#and so distrusting of people but at the same time too trusting

[housemdork]

house md rewatch: 2x17, "all in"

hit it, lady gaga. does it count as a poker face if you're talking over the phone, though?

and if i said this is my "three stories?" would that break your trust in me?

it doesn't do the same story work as 1x21, nor is it all that innovative in its presentation, and YES, it's a bit gimmicky, but i love her (2x17). next to 5x04, it's probably my most watched, which is why i was surprised when i realized i don't have a ton to say! one of 2x17's strengths is its directness/efficiency, so this recap may just read like a big appreciation post, more than anything else.

and what i want to appreciate first is how wonderful everyone looks :)

foreman is kinda real for that lol ^

second, i think someone told the writers' room what "haunting the narrative" meant when they started drafting this episode and they Ran with it. apart from reinforcing house's addiction to the puzzle and reaffirming his godhood along the way, i couldn't decipher much more about the old patient esther. the king james bible dictionary (lmfao) says that the name comes from the old persian word for star, "satarah," which could allude to a sort of northern star situation; something that house strives for. but it's also a stereotypical old people name, and house as god is actually deconstructed by the end of 2x17, so who knows.

at a textual level, what i liked the most about 2x17 was its self-awareness about its driving theme/allegory: gambling & games of chance is like diagnostics. audiences are fully down with the sickness atp, so to speak; this isn't news for us. but the kid patient ian and his parents are NOT down with this. every time the team unveils a new potential diagnosis, the parents try to roll with the punches but grow increasingly restless and distrustful of house. fair enough!

the team's stress mounts as ian begins tanking just like esther did twelve years ago, and right around the time that the party has about 2 hours to go, so does ian. their desperation turns to a numbers/instinct game, with house having a very Always Bet On Black moment with his repeated erdheim chester diagnosis. it ends in his favor; his celebration is very much that of a gambling addict, too. but remember this for later!

back to self-consciousness: house and wilson have a very interesting conversation when rehashing the esther saga from twelve years ago. wilson, because he's a theatre/literature/pop culture nerd (a man after my own heart), reasonably compares esther to house's own personal moby dick. house replies with a short tirade against metaphors:

"you do realize that the point of metaphors is to scare people from doing things by telling them that something much scarier is going to happen than what really will happen? god, i wish i had a metaphor to explain that better."

first, i have to laugh because house does nothing but use metaphors every chance he can to describe things from the mundane to the medically complex. but more importantly, here, house md is directly acknowledging the shakiness of the metaphor of gambling/doctors. its anticipating the audience's renewed anxiety - will my health be reduced to such a turbulent guessing game? - and maybe even taking a stab at repairing that anxiety. i think this is so clever!! i love manipulating and acknowledging the genre!

this discomfort translates to house, too, like i've alluded to above. esther really does haunt his narrative, and we've never seen him outwardly celebrating cracking a case like this one before. he himself is unwilling to admit to the gambling/doctoring dichotomy, either, because it would reinforce his fallibility. even when cuddy directly (and rightfully) attacks him for hijacking the case, he doesn't totally relent.

"sometimes you lose, house! you're not god!"

very, very true and important and telling!

house's fallibility isn't just thrown in his face via dialogue or inward self-doubt, however. it's obviously unusual for house specifically to be dressed so formally ever since the vogler/lab coat debacle. but as the case progresses, the pomp and circumstances of the poker tournament fall away. while the fellows don their lab coats and Doctor Gear, house strips down:

his second to last iteration is the sterile gown he wears while sitting next to ian with cuddy. i like how this transfers this motif to cuddy, too. they're both without their pretty poker night outfits, united in a cleanroom with concern. that happens a lot - the patient's urgency trumps their tension/pettiness. subtle but forever mounting moments of solidarity between them.

the revelation that it was, in fact, erdheim chester all along in ian and esther's cases superficially restores house's poker face. he's reclaimed that godhood card - on the surface. wilson delivers cuddy's same point in another instance of vulnerability like the cleanroom moment. this time, the text of 2x17 hands wilson the self-consciousness reins. he forces house to confront the immense gamble he won, and their resulting laughter is one the audience can join in:

in Every Way, this scene is stripped back. the hospital is actively disassembling the poker night decorations/paraphernalia. they aren't using poker chips anymore. their clothes are in equal states of disarray; i don't quite understand why wilson hung back for so long lol. and house's cigar is lit, whereas in the first poker game, it was a prop to irritate and see through wilson and cuddy's poker faces. now wilson can see through its literal smokescreen.

this is also the first time house/wilson and cigars makes landfall. i'm obsessed with this motif.

better yet, house doesn't call. he doesn't try to read wilson - he's too busy being read for filth himself. i truly love this scene, especially when you think about all the pseudo-marital problems they've been having lmfao.

finally, i need to address the Hudson Psychosexual Games of it all. they play THROUGH wilson. the trifecta is trifecta-ing. for now, this reads as an isolated incident, and showcases how well these 3 know each other. i like that it finally invites cuddy into the mix since she'll quickly become integral to house and wilson and all the rest in a way that's not fully realized yet. more than that, i like how she and house can see through the communication barrier. above all, however, i'm obsessed with the thrill wilson gets from the arrangement. freak. obviously there's more to come on this matter >:)

i just love this episode. 10/10. no notes. and look how happy he is that he won the tournament! never mind that he couldn't have done it without house's help! he beat burman, from business affairs! (i can recite his dialogue here from memory).

i'm gonna throw up.

[hayatheauthor]

12 Red Herrings to Keep Your Readers Distracted

I’ve seen mystery/thriller authors use the same handful of red herrings too many times to count. So here are some (hopefully not as common) red herrings for your writing. 

1. The Unreliable Narrator's Bias

Your narrator can play favourites and scheme and twist the way your readers interpret the story. Use this to your advantage! A character portrayed as untrustworthy can really be someone innocent the narrator framed, vice versa. 

2. The Loyal Traitor

A character with a history of betrayal or questionable loyalty is an obvious suspect. They did it once, they could do it again, right? Wrong! They’ve actually changed and the real traitor is someone you trusted. 

3. The Conflicted Expert

An expert—like a detective, scientist, or historian—analyses a piece of evidence. They’re ultimately wrong, either due to bias, missing data, or pressure to provide quick answers.

4. The Overly Competent Ally

You know that one sidekick or ally who’s somehow always ahead of the curve? They’re just really knowledgeable, your characters know this, but it makes it hard to trust them. Perfection is suspicious! But in this case, they’re actually just perfect. 

5. The Misleading Emotional Clue

Maybe one of your characters is seen crying, angry, or suspiciously happy after xyz event. Characters suspect them, but turns out they’re just having a personal issue. (People have lives outside of yours MC smh). Or it could be a cover-up. 

6. A Misleading Alibi

At first this character’s alibi seems perfect but once the protag digs into it, it has a major hole/lie. Maybe they were in a different location or the person they claimed to be with was out of town. 

7. The Odd Pattern

Have a seemingly significant pattern—symbols left at crime scenes, items stolen in a specific order, crimes on specific dates. Then make it deliberately planted to mislead.

8. The Misinterpreted Relationship

A character was secretly close to a victim/suspect, making them a suspect. Turns out they were hiding a completely unrelated secret; an affair, hidden family connection, etc.

9. A Forgotten Grudge

Create a grudge or past feud and use it to cast suspicion on an innocent character. Introducing an aspect of their past also helps flesh out their character and dynamics as a group + plant distrust. 

10. The Faked Death

Luke Castellan, need I say more (I will)? A supposedly innocent character dies, but turns out they faked it and were never a victim in the first place. They just needed to be out of the picture. 

11. The Mistaken Eavesdropper 

A character overhears a threat, argument, etc. They suspect B based on this convo, but turns out they just came to a false conclusion. (Or did they?)

12. The Forgetful Alibi 

Someone confesses to hearing/seeing a clue, but turns out they were mistaken. Maybe they thought they heard a certain ringtone, or saw xyz which C always wears, but their memory was faulty or influenced by stress.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!

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[dreamerimpossible]

Tokyo Revengers Jealousy Scale

Warnings: A little toxic

Mikey 7/10

Totally petty, he'll get upset if you pay attention to someone else and depending on the timeline he'll act differently depending on the potential threat. But in all of them he's partially jealous, he could be a lot more, but he's always very busy with his own business; so, for that reason he doesn't give many jealous scenes.

Kazutora 10/10

He's not even funny. He's usually always on the defensive, so you can see bad intentions everywhere. So, it'll be hard to deal with his jealousy and accusations that you'll leave him. It can get tiring, but he makes up for it by being charming for most of the relationship. So, he's not that bad.

Baji 4/10

He'll only get jealous if he witnesses an interaction that clearly has ulterior motives. Only in that scenario will you be able to see him being insecure and jealous. But it's the only time, because he has a lot of trust in the people he chose to be with, so he doesn't distrust them often. Pretty calm, in general.

Sanzu 6/10

Too mindful of his own business. He consciously chooses to trust you, so if you don't give him reasons, he'll give you some freedom. But he's very cunning, and always on the lookout for the slightest stimulus, so if he sees something strange, his toxic side will come out. And that won't be nice at all. Not for you or the other person.

Izana 10/10

If he chose you, it means that you are totally valuable in his eyes. He will realize that others will see the same thing he saw, so he expects you to be with him at all times to avoid getting too controlling (although he gets that way anyway). He'll only put up with it if you're close with Kakucho, but up to a certain limit.

Ran Haitani 2/10

He's very observant, he'll quickly know if he needs to feel threatened. So if he sees that you're crazy about him, he won't be worried and he won't feel jealous at all. In fact, it can be annoying to a certain extent, as nothing seems to make him feel jealous. If I'm honest, you're probably the jealous one in the relationship and not him.

Rindou Haitani 4/10

He might only feel a little jealous of your interactions with his brother. With the rest, no, he just can't feel threatened by them, as he considers himself better. Also, he's very sincere, he doesn't waste time with scenes, if you spend a lot of time with someone, he'll ask you directly and expect total sincerity. If you reassure him, everything will be fine.

Kisaki 7/10

He's jealous, but he doesn't waste time confronting you. He sees someone strange in your life, gets rid of them, and is smart enough to evade your questions. He's silent and unfazed, so you'll never know that he's actually jealous. It's a bit annoying too, as he will always hide his feelings and you'll never know that he goes crazy when he sees you with someone else.

Hanma 4/10

He feels too good about himself. Plus, you'll always be by his side, as he always has something fun to do with his time. He'll always keep you entertained and in love with him with his crazy antics. So, he himself will realize that you have no time or energy for someone else. Both win.

[g1rlken]

┏ Like real people do ┐

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

summary: The reader is Aemond’s new bride, a match fixed some time before Viserys’s death. Daemon’s daughter through Lady Royce navigates through a difficult now into a new chapter of being married to the one eyed prince, council and war.

warnings: daemon being an awful dad, Luke’s death, attachment issues, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage

word count: 5.1k

Part 1. Part 2

-

Worlds changed, dragons spew fire, flowers burnt and flowers bloomed, children born and doomed. Y/n, Daemon Targeryn’s first born through Lady Rhea Royce. A child he had despised ever since her birth, just an extension for his hatred towards Lady Royce in the first place. He could never stand her, having been forced to his duties he hated her even more. He was never around for the aftermath of anything, the rogue prince who knew no bounds. The child wasn’t even half a year old when he mercilessly put an end to Lady Royce. The ‘accident’ left the child at the kindness of pitiful wet nurses and the castle staff.

King Viserys however couldn’t stand such tragedy over and over, he generally refrained from interfering his brother’s life. He did regret his decision of marrying daemon to someone against his will but he could not have anticipated such a harsh counter reaction via Daemon. Especially after the babe, Viserys thought the child could perhaps soften the coldness of their relations but it only got worse. The king wished to seek some atonement at least for the sake of the child. Y/n, the princess, away at the grasslands of Runestone. He arranged for her to live at the red keep, a motherless child with an absent father would do better within her present family. The King’s children through alicent were mere babies themselves. The maids, the kind Queen herself, would do well to look after the infant. After all the red keep was her house just as much as it was Daemon’s despite his grievance towards it. Her dragon too was well looked after through the keeps instead of Runestone staff. Her dragon was just a hatchling as y/n too was a baby herself.

Alicent, younger at the time. The keep’s staff, mastered in squalling babies and fussy infants. Y/n wasn’t a bother at all. Not that she were to remember but Queen alicent was kinder to her than the fates had been, she nursed her like one of her own. Such fondness and softness towards daughters, it was nice enough. At least for a while. Y/n was six by the time daemon had come for Rhaenyra’s wedding, then off with Laena. No familiarity between the six year old y/n and her father. Too young to understand her family setting and Daemon still rancour.

Daemon had two daughters with the driftmark princess, viserys deemed him capable enough to raise y/n then. He decided to send little y/n back to her father, viserys wanted his brother to accept his daughter. Alicent had a smaller voice at that time yet she tried to reason with her husband to let y/n be at the keep. Daemon had to accept his brother’s whim anyways so he did. Viserys was as relieved as Alicent was anxious that y/n was in Pentos. King made the decision in good faith, if only he put a bit more distrust in daemon than he did trust. Daemon was still the same, y/n, still a child and he did nothing to make her feel included or at home. She learnt to keep to herself how she had seen Haelena do. Still quite young to comprehend where all such distaste came from, all these different people, different land. She longed to call a place home, her memories of the red keep, Alicent, the others it kept fading because she was but a baby back then. Her father wouldn’t teach y/n how to ride on dragon back how he did with her half sisters. But y/n had taught it to herself. Watching she learnt, she didn’t have to be told explicitly what to do. She fell a lot, on her face and back but she learnt anyways.

As years passed nothing changed between y/n and her father, her half sisters were company enough time to time but she was always in their orbit and not as close. All until Driftmark, they lost lady Laena. Y/n was in her early teens and she tried to be there for Baela and Rhaena. She stood by their side through their mother’s funeral. She understood the gravity of such tragedy, she lived with that grief all her life for her mother who was a stranger she never even met. But she mourned her longer than she’d known her.

Reunited with Alicent, gaining a distasteful look from Daemon. “You’ve grown so much” Alicent remarked as she pulled the girl into her embrace. Both of them looked so much different from when they last met each other. The girl had distant memory of the queen but her warmth was nicer than she had known anyone else’s. Despite the occasion alicent was brought some peace of mind seeing Y/n, she didn’t look her best but at least not the worst. She didn’t have to ask y/n to know if Daemon spoke to her, if she felt at home. She reintroduced y/n to her children, some of them y/n didn’t even remember through faces if not for name.

“She was such a small babe.” Helaena commented as she greeted the young girl. It had been years since Helaena had seen her. Aegon and Aemond just stood with disinterest, Aemond trying to mask it otherwise regardless.

After the tragedy that was which followed Laena’s death upon the nightfall of her funeral. Aemond’s eye was taken and it was a rather gruesome unfolding. A night which left a permanent distance between families. A mark which shaped Aemond for years to come.

As the years followed, dragonstone proved to be just as dreary and awfully lonely for y/n. None of her half siblings were her own or ever treated her as such, unsolicited kindness was all she would get here and there and she had accepted surviving it. Thinking of lives far away, a place where life would begin. But it was perhaps never. As King Viserys’s health worsened the queen and hand took matters into their own hands bit by bit.

The queen, declared that it is but the king’s wish for Aemond to be married with y/n, Daemon’s firstborn. Viserys was asked about it, surely, his decision was firm and wearily elated about the marriage so what does it matter who pitched the thought as long as the king agreed. Aemond was agitated. He did not want it, at all. For the ever present and abiding Aemond he had a rift with the thought of marriage to y/n. But he kept his shortcomings to himself.

Even more so mortified was y/n, she didn’t remember how exactly was her childhood at the red keep but she did recall that ever since driftmark, that family would surely not have a soft heart for her. “Father please don’t-please don’t make me do this” she pleaded Daemon.

“It is the King, my brother’s wish.” Daemon said in a disregard of her wish, surprisingly he was fine with his brother’s second hand wish too. Daemon was aware that the Hightower queen and Otto is who pulled all the strings and his brother was a bed ridden king but this was a decision in his favour as long as he could be rid of y/n.

“You cannot marry me off like this!” She exclaimed, for someone who rarely expressed thoughts to daemon. Something she learnt in all those years with being met with cold shoulder all of life, she had to fight for her life as of now. “Not to Aemond, please father please, I do not know any of them-“

“You do. You have spent most of your childhood at the hip of that Hightower queen you will be just fine.” Daemon scoffed with a bit of condescension in his voice. Indifference as he referred to Alicent.

“I do not remember them” y/n tried to reason, any wet nurse could show sympathy to a high born motherless child she did not account to be in a marriage with that sympathy at this stage in her life. “They are complete strangers, father, please I will stay wherever you ask please don’t marry me off!”

“You are of age, y/n. This is a fitting decision for you!” He exclaimed with growing irritation at this conversation, daemon never paid mind to her moreover chose not to and hence he had expected her to show nothing but compliance.

“For me or for you?” She asked with a bitter huff looking away from her father already losing hope in this conversation, she couldn’t stomach this decision without letting him know her repulsion of it. “You are so eager to wash your hands off of me as if I have ever wronged you, all my life, I’ve never asked for anything-“

“Haven’t you?!” Daemon said loudly, his rage visible in his tone “The fact that you exist is asking too much of me as it is. You are an awful reminder and a mistake. I have been subjected to duty and honour and it is only fair if you are too. It is your duty, if not to me then to the King.” With that the door was slammed as the rogue prince walked out, an ironic vision of her life.

A bitter goodbye and an uncertain life with little to no hope y/n was set for the red keep, glancing back at dragonstone for one last time. She didn’t know if she held any homely softness for that place in her heart but she presumed the life which awaited her would be more dreary than the stone.

The wedding was an intimate affair, a small ceremony but still a lot of strangers y/n had never seen. Daemon refrained from attending but it was no surprise. She was met with warmth and affection from her mother in law and her family but not her husband to be, they were all a strange set of people down here in the south from the maids to the king himself who didn’t even sit on the throne yet made decisions.

Even the most beautiful flowers would wither away at the heavy heart of the new bride of new title, the princess. She couldn’t stand her person she was becoming or moreover the mere idea of what she had to be. Aemond wouldn’t even share the same bad as her, almost every night for the first week. He’d rather sleep on the sofa or some nights he’d just never return from wherever he wandered off to.

Barely getting the grasp of it, small domestic solaces just everytime she was with Halena and her mother in law, tending to her niece and nephew. The only time she felt less alone but she was familiar with the loneliness, that wasn’t the problem. It was the nerve wrecking confusion and uncertainty that followed after, eating her alive every night that she would lay. Within strangers now, she felt a stranger to herself too.

Days passed, circumstances arose: the king fell. Aegon was declared the king, a restless unease of an upcoming war. The hand’s very first decision was passing daemon’s seat on the council to y/n. “What?” She asked wide eyed as the hand and queen pitched it to her. “Why, me? I’m not even that learned…” she trailed off.

“You spend most of your time in the library, you happen to have a knack for reading. I’m assuming you can write too?” Otto questioned, if more number of people on the council were his own to mould and speak for the rule would be so much easier.

“Yes but just letters and scrolls..” she trailed off with a sigh, it was rather strange they would approach her for something as important as the council in the first place.

“We need sharp mind of a soft heart on the council.” Alicent said as she caressed her daughter in law’s cheek, with a smile to put some confidence in her. Despite her father’s motives of having y/n on the council, Alicent believed y/n would prove to be rather fruitful and genuine.

“It is also your birthright, through your father’s seat on King Viserys’s council. It is only right if you were to be a part of it.” Otto added in an encouraging manner. The pieces were being set already, as the blacks were processing their own steps.

They had Aemond set to go meet lord Dorros the very next morrow, with a bribe of the crown’s coin and loyalty. The forces set, Aegon’s coronation done. Just one last afternoon council left. Aegon, riding the high of his coronation wasn’t present in this one.

Everyone took their respective seats, it was an eventful morning’s slow afternoon. The coronation was as eventful as it was unpleasant with the beast beneath the boards. Sending out scrolls to other lords, the council discussed it. Y/n didn’t say anything, just listening. Writing out the needed scrolls, Alicent quietly remarked her beautiful hand at the words.

The door slammed open as Aemond entered, he was enraged at his wife’s seat on the council. “Aemond.” Alicent said as the room stiffened.

“What is this?” He asked with as his brows furrowed, he felt very wronged and partially frustrated that his lady wife had a seat on the council above him.

“It’s a meeting.” Otto declared as he looked back from the board back to Aemond, “Not yet done, what is your business here?”

“What is she doing here?” Aemond inquired as he leant over a chair, more belonging in this room than anyone else. Especially his wife, he thought to himself the other members with an awkward look on their face.

“She has a seat extended on the king’s council after her own father, daemon.” Otto filled him in on the subject, visibly disinterested.

“Daemon’s claim on the council died with my father’s death. She holds no such extension.” Aemond reasoned calmly, very much opposed to the irritation rising inside him.

“I’m still a hand to the king aren’t I? Your mother is on the council. Lord Tyland-“ Otto replied back but was interrupted by Aemond midway before he made his point.

“None of them sworn against Aegon. Daemon has called for the pretender hence his seat on this council holds no significance.” Aemond scoffed looking down at his wife who sat, scrolls lay in front of her and a pen in her hand. She felt overwhelmed with such necessary distaste, the hand to the king and queen mother herself asked her to join the council yet Aemond had an issue. It’s not as if she were to act against the interest of the crown or make big decisions to begin with.

“She is the princess. Your lawfully wedded wife, in the eyes of the gods and all the members of this very council and more. Despite Daemon’s treachery and your incoherent jealousy she belongs here.” Otto said breaking Aemond’s mouth, he knew which nerve to exactly hit. Saying Aemond was jealous, of his lady wife’s seat in front of everyone. It was enough to send him seething back and he was right. With a huff as he stared down at y/n, he turned to his heel at left.

Everyone had their accustomed part with a potential war brewing. Aemond had to leave to meet lord borros next morning. Y/n assumed he would be calculating and supposedly busy with his task at hand yet he found time to cause a scene at the council. Y/n knew that nobody on the council saw her as a threat because they all knew of daemon’s indifference for her. The black sheep. In truth she didn’t owe her father any loyalty either so their calculations were correct, her husband however.

She planned to avoid him regardless, spending the rest of the day with the twins, Helaena talking her ear off about her fixated spider and y/n loved that too. Jaehaera was playing with y/n’s hair, adding her toys into it making improper braids. Jahaerys running in circles and hoarding his toys in y/n’s lap as she enjoyed a conversation with their mother.

Alicent walked in, for a moment just taking in the domesticity of the scene. The serenity, the girls laughing. It was rather rare before y/n to see Helaena at peace like this. She entered with a soft knock greeting everyone and she took a seat next to y/n, “Children you must retire your auntie now, it’s rather late!”

“It’s alright mother, it’s not that late.” protested, Haelena she enjoyed y/n’s company as much as the whining children, Jaehaera caged y/n in her tiny arms from her back to not let her go. However through alicent’s hesitant eyes y/n realised she must have some sort of business to discuss.

“Forgive me my loves I am growing a bit tired…but I’m not going anywhere I’d be back soon enough!” She said with a sigh as she kissed the twins goodbye, both of them a bit protestant but let her go eventually. “Good evening, Helaena.” She smiled and bid her goodbye as well and exited with her mother in law.

After they were out in the hallway, secluded of other ears Alicent proceeded “Are you alright?”

“Yes, your grace” y/n replied with a non hesitant nod, in an instant with a smile confused why would that question come up.

“Mother.” She corrected her stopping on her way to turn to face her.

“-Mother.” Y/n said with a soft smile rephrasing her title.

“After…today’s council. You have been avoiding Aemond?” She asked searching for y/n’s dreary eyes.

“No-that is not the case” y/n shook her head trying to formulate a better answer given she hadn’t asked that question to herself. Because in a sense she was avoiding Aemond. “I—“ she breathed “I am rather anxious.”

“Of what? Does he speak to you in an ill manner? Do you wish for me to talk to him?” Alicent inquired concerned for her hesitation of Aemond’s lashing out or whatever it was she was trying to avoid.

“No-no it’s not that…I just feel guilty. He wants an authority, his opinion to be heard at council level and I get that place before him, we’re not at the best terms to begin with and now he must be cross with me” Y/n explained her worry with a sigh.

“And? It is your right, y/n.” Alicent said as she took her hand into hers in an affirming way, “you must never feel guilty for claims that are solely yours.” She explained, “as of Aemond, he can be difficult sometimes, but I assure you he isn’t malevolent. He loves you.”

The Queen mother’s assurance felt it came from a place of gentle constitution and the motherly naïveté of overlooking some things but y/n was more than aware that Aemond did anything but love her. She was familiar with lack of warmth, affection, just so far from it she could almost find strange ways to dwell in it. It was an emotion she knew for so long, from her father’s house to her husband’s, bricks of her old life and no love.

But she did not tell alicent of her wearies, after all she did not worry about it she was at terms with it. But she was worried meeting Aemond, as of now, she walked the hallway to their shared bedchamber with heavy breaths. Aemond was looking out the giant window, he had a journey to make the next morning to the baratheons yet he wasn’t resting or preparing. Much to y/n’s demise she hoped he’d be off somewhere else. She closed the door behind her as she entered, Aemond never talked to her generally. She never spoke unless spoken to but today silence weighed heavy between the two of them.

“The meeting ran late did it?” Aemond asked without looking back at her, he could tell from the soft stride who entered their chambers.

“No, I was with Helaena…” She trailed off growing strangely anxious because she felt answerable to him. As if it would compensate him and that was her burden to bear. “The meeting was rather trivial”

“Was it now?” He scoffed in a bigger way and turned to face her, “You must have provided the trivial meeting with your other worldly wit and understanding of warfare.”

“Aemond” she said taking in a sharp breath, meaning to tread carefully “I know you are upset. Believe me I did not know beforehand of the planning nor was it offered to me, the hand-queen mother they deemed it as my duty and right and I did not have other choice otherwise I would’ve asked you…”

“Asked me what?” Aemond interrogated crossing his arms as he leant against the stone pillar, her feigning nonchalance and false sympathy irritated him to no end.

“To take my place” she answered. She meant it in a genuine sense because she did not hold the same passion or want for a seat on the King’s council the way Aemond did. It was far from her. “I’d rather you take my place, I have no wish for authority on the council. I could ask the hand to-“

“You truly are the imbecile I presumed you to be.” He said assertively as he stiffened, his shoulders tight. “Are you that naive? Do you think I would need your help to put myself on the council? Yours?” He said as he huffed, berating her was his intention. Y/n remained silent, unmoving in her place no matter however she tried and help him or soften the rift in their marriage he was always imbecile from it. In the meantime he walked a bit closer to her, towering over her given his taller stature he leant forward by a bit to make himself appear intimidating.

“My apologies then.” She muttered lowering her gaze from his because she felt rather scrutinised by him as if she was at fault for something, as if she had wronged him. “Excuse me” she said before he could reply and attempted to retreat away to the adjoint bathroom. Wait out him falling asleep or leaving. The newlywed with their peculiar marriage of indifference.

-

Aemomd’s return from his errand with the Baratheon lord contained of a difficult detour nobody had anticipated. Rather difficult, to navigate such a blow through warfare. The council, y/n merely heard and spoke four sentences on an average, was shocked. No idea of action status not war treading. Circumstance heavy on everyone. Shame and disregard.

Sitting by the burning lamp, late evening, the scrolls and letters were to be written with such urgency after what happened with lucerys y/n had to take it to her own desk. Too busy with the works she barely processed the loss yet, she did not know Lucerys as a brother but an acquaintance who was rather kind to her all those years.

She barely looked up when the door opened, only when Aemond drew closer. Rather too close to her desk, he leant on the table where she was writing. Close to where she was sitting he breathed heavily. Putting the pen down and the scroll aside y/n looked up at him. “What did the king say?”

“The king?” Aemond repeated with a small laugh, he was still getting used to the new titles but referring those even behind closed doors was somewhat strange. “Aegon, he is not the most serious about it. Collateral damage he said.” Aemond repeated the words, he was never fond of the bastard himself but he never planned to take such drastic step. “Grand sire had a lot to say and mother, she is disappointed. Perhaps everyone is disappointed?” He asked emphasising ‘everyone’ referring to her. He did not know of his lady wife’s connection with the Strong boy but his own mother had a dislike for him and yet she was disappointed.

“I don’t know warfare as good as the lot of you, but” she nodded to his previous implication of being disappointed in a way, such loss must be difficult to stomach for those really close. “It is a lot…”

“Do you grieve him?” Aemond asked, his tone non threatening nor interrogative, subtly calm.

Pausing y/n thought about it for a moment, she was quick to side with the hand’s cold and calculative decisions as her mother in law suggested writing Rhaenyra letters instead, y/n herself weighed heavy on practicality as if grief was non existent. In a way it was. “I don’t know” she said puzzled “We were never close but he was kind to me, not all of them and not everytime but whenever he could be…” she trailed off. “He was easily anxious about a lot of things, scared.” Last time she had seen him it was the dinner for King Viserys upon the discussion to heir of driftmark. The scene that followed that dinner was distant in y/n’s mind until now. The same inferior fright was in Luke’s eyes that day.

Aemond did not say anything, her words made him feel guilty even more so but he would never display to anyone. He fought for his life debating to the council, to grandsire that it was an accident however not enough for him to take accountability of it as if he had done something wrong. He knew he had, but he did not show it. He could not. It did not come from a place of sympathy nor altruistic intentions but an ambush of unsolicited guilt. “Is it true?” She asked him.

“What is?” He replied as her voice pulled him out of his thought and his gaze met hers, she still sat on the desk the soft orange hue of the lantern on her face.

“You hold no regret?” She asked him referring to the conversation he had with the council when he was confronted about what happened. He did not owe his truthfulness to anyone, especially not the council.

The heavy silence between the two of them told her more than his words could, her eyes softened as he pondered his unsaid exoneration. Nobody would believe him but she might just, “I did not mean for that to happen, nor did I plan it.”

There was a crack in his demeanour, very different from how he presented himself back in front of everyone else about the the whole ordeal. Accountability seeping in and he should know, “Acting bigger than the situation won’t provide you with the atonement you are looking for.” She told him, forgetting herself when he asked for her advice and she assumed in such delicate state of mind he would rather lash out than listen but he did not. He was present, here to listen. To her? So far he had made it so very clear that he held no regard for her whatsoever.

“I am not looking for atonement.” He said more to himself than to her in a gentle tone and a hint of lostness in his expression. He longed for something, some consolation of some kind but he did not know exactly what and he felt restless with heavy emotions.

“You are.” She answered for the question he did not ask out loud, however the epiphany of it was not lost on him as he looked at her like an open wound. He did not protest her because she was right, she held the answers to herself. She could think for him despite of what he did and it unsettled him in some way because he had never felt such softness of anyone else. To know that he had done something he would have to seek atonement for and…hold regard for him still?

“Do you see me differently then?” He asked, small fright creeping him on the inside if she affirmed his answer.

“No” she replied without hesitation nor enthusiasm, she did see him less ruthless and uncaring than she had previously known him to be but she did not tell him that in this state of mind of his. However the heavy silence and the remorseful tension was too much to bear. She stood up from her chair seemingly to leave and attend some other task, just then realising he stood rather close. Before she could attempt to move away he stopped her. Holding her by her wrist he pulled her close but he was already close enough, the distance shortening this small for the first time since their wedding.

“Do you truly, not see differently?” He asked again with searching eyes. He couldn’t do with her short no however affirming as it was it wasn’t absorbing. It did not feed to his shame and guilt.

Y/n did not know how to soothe his wearies, she never thought her perception would matter to him at all. The walls within their marriage came crumbling down as he held her wrist it seemed, she wasn’t going away yet he kept a hold of her. To ground himself more than her. After staring into his eye for what seemed like an eternity she simply pulled him into her embrace, in a tight embrace. Her arms holding his broad stature the best they could, raising on her toes to bring him as close as she could.

Aemond was stunned to say, for a moment. He could not fathom she would want to tread so gently with him after what he had done he did not expect such, such softness. As he enlaced his arms around her waist, hugging her back as he raised her closer to him. His person. He had never felt such warmth and love of hands that would show soft affection even after knowing his ugly work, he was met with her comfort when he deserved retribution. It nestled his spirit in a serene place, he worried the place would vanish if he let go off her so he didn’t. He kept holding her close to him, closer of it was possible as he buried his face by the crook of her neck.

After a while she pulled away but not entirely, resting her temple against his. His soft breath on her as she sighed closing her eyes. He followed to, until he met her gaze again. His impulse wanted to touch her face to make sure she was real, that this moment was. So he did. Fixing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear he cupped her face. She did not move away, heart racing in such gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a first and he did not want her to extend her boundaries for his sake but he could not stop himself, he brushed his lips against her.

Indulging in a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands as if she was made of porcelain. It was the first time somebody had held y/n with such fragility. Such affection was very foreign to her all her life, even the kiss on their wedding day felt forced and ceremonial. But this felt real, it was. She kissed him back and held him close, standing in the light of a desk lantern, the moonlight seeping in and lovers who might just be alright.

—

—part 2.

I am sorry if this feels rushed, i skipped season 1 bc i want to do all of s2…please let me know what you think in the comments 💕

If you want to be in the taglist pls comment AND go drink water RIGHT NOW ILY SO MUCH !!!!!!!!

-

[somewhereincairparavel]

Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.

after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.

annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.

let's start off with the lost hero

when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.

-----------------------------------------------

this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.

both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.

They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.

they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.

we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.

moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.

jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.

while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.

and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.

annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.

whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.

annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.

they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.

fatal flaws:

annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.

and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.

as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.

she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.

and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote

[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]

which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.

jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].

both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.

annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)

they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.

speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.

this is sort of irrelevant but I'll add this anyway, in boo, athena also immediately liked jason for calling out zeus's unfairness to apollo, saying something like 'the boy is right' and she gave him an approving/appreciative look for his wisdom, which is pretty rare for athena to say or do to literally any demigod ever. this makes me wonder if she ever saw jason as someone who had some sort of athena legacy in him, which is why she was so pleasantly surprised with him. ugh we could've so gotten jason and annabeth as potential sibling figures bc of how many parallels they have, too bad that the percy/jason rivalry narrative was pushed too hard.

I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!

@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms

[rmbunnie]

I see so much of "is post-crisis Robin Jason an innocent little sweetie-pie or a mean aggro delinquent" and after reading through all of his batman and detective comic issues post-crisis I think i can safely say he's... an introverted and distrustful, but altogether friendly teen boy who has convinced himself to the deepest level that he is an Adult Man, and also does not hold a particularly good view of adults.

The sweet little babypie characterization falls a little short (assuming we aren't being too silly with it, there's plenty of that in the comedy issues of tec) because it disregards the part where he's a jaded teenager who is constantly going off and trying to take care of his own problems like "his own man" and reacts negatively to any breach of trust or move to take care of him. But negative doesn't mean "violent and rageful." The delinquent angle is incorrect because not only is his disposition peppy, silly, and agreeable most of the time, but assuming the problem upsetting him isn't a predator or the guy who killed his dad (and three out of four canon instances it is a predator to be clear) he reacts to emotional turmoil with Bruce by bedrotting, sulking, communicating through notes, and overall being avoidant. The only times he lashes out are when Bruce is calling him out or after Bruce told him to his face that he chose to look for the Joker over looking for him, and that case of "lashing out" is just getting a little snarky.

More than anything his main personality trait (besides being silly, a robin staple) is kinda coming into this parentified as fuck. Not that it's Catherine's fault, but it really shaped his character, like one of the first things he says to Bruce (after he promised not to turn Jason in to the foster system) is that he kept her fed and warm as long as he could like he wasn't her ten year old child when he started. It's why he views himself on the same level as adults and why he gets all closed off at any insinuation that he needs to be taken care of, both of which heavily inform his dynamic with Bruce. He's constantly checking in on Bruce's wellbeing, like half of Batman: the Cult is just him taking care of Bruce while he recuperates from being brainwashed. (Side note, he's also constantly asking Bruce stuff like "what's your relationship like with this woman or this rogue or the concept of religion, how did that play out, how do you feel about it?" he is Very chatty like that.) The first thing he does when Sheila tells him her (revised to exclude medical malpractice) life story is hold HER and try to affirm her struggle. After a while he starts to act more childish with Bruce (although he doesn't really stop trying to brush off attempts to care for him) but as soon as Bruce admits he prioritized crimefighting over Jason and didn't show up to look after Jason like Jason assumed he came there for, Jason snaps back to acting very independent and rejecting any attempts to be looked after on any terms other than some kind of "equals" thing, which he isn't, as he's a 15 year old boy. Like. He's very sweet to his former neighbor, but also he refers to being a homeless child and the sole provider in his condemned building living situation as "getting by" to her.

He's definitely not. some bloodthirsty delinquent, at least to anyone who's not an uber-misogynistic predator, and he like demonstrably is a pretty sweet kid. It's just that when people say he's a sweet kid they kinda just jump to "untraumatized eight-year-old who grew up in a loving family and just got a new puppy from Santa" instead of "good hearted and curious teenager who has trust issues and is deeply uncomfortable with being taken care of, so kinda just compromises by pretending his dad is a Friend Doing him a Solid and acts like his kid only when he has plausible deniability so he can't get the rug pulled out from under him." Of course. He does kinda get the rug pulled out from under him despite all that. So there's that.

[fafodill]

The exact wording of the ask I got was: 'what if someone was asking deprived!Snape (read my whole essay about him) to "break them off a piece of that KitKat bar?" How would they go about it?'

So today we're going to discuss this. Buckle up people.✨

SO his reaction will largely depend on the context and their current relationship but one thing that will happen FOR SURE every time before anything else is that he's going to think they're messing with him.

What else could it be? This man had been so heavily bullied as a teen his self-esteem is buried and has its own tombstone.

"Here lies Snape's self-image. Spit to pay your respect."

We don't have any canon proof of it happening but many people headcanon that some of the bullying might have been people being dared to come up to him and fake attraction or compliment him (so funny omg) only for him to realize they were just messing with him. It's totally the kind of immature stupid shit kids will come up with (speaking from personal experience here). Not funny but deeply scarring for one's self-image. So being told he's attractive would trigger him in his adult life. Any potential suitor asking him out would be welcomed with him immediately closing up and getting angry at them. They'd need to find a way for him to believe them first.

If you're thinking "this already sounds like a pain", yes it is. Welcome to deprived!Snape. Welcome to Snape, basically. If they want a piece of him, they have to brace themselves for the long run.

He will get angry and leave a lot. Fleeing the situation - since it's a very vulnerable subject for him - will be his go-to move. The whole ordeal will require patience. So what should this person do?

Friend or Stranger?

If it comes from a DE he'll think it's an angle. If it's from a member of the Order, he'll think it's a joke. If it's from a colleague at Hogwarts, he maaaay be a tad less suspicious? In any case, it will depend on how close they are. The more time they have spent together, the closer he'll be to not flip out... too much.

I'm a bit torn about his reaction if it was coming from a stranger. Either it's easier because he can lean into the idea that maybe they're lying about their attraction and he doesn't care (and if he's horny then why the fuck not, it won't affect him as much since they both now they're here for physical release) OR he might not be into it at all because he actually needs a real connection (and I think this is more realistic). Severus is a feral cat, he needs time to trust people.

What else? He could also maybe open up faster with someone not from his usual inner circles (a foreigner or a muggle) as the interactions wouldn't be charged with the same deep-rooted habits and expectations.

I also believe he'd unconsciously feel way more at ease with someone coming from a modest background. A pureblood aristocrat hitting on him would have little chance of getting past his natural distrust of them (unless he knows them very well).

So what should they do?

Build trust

The quality of their interactions and conversations will have a huge impact. Do they have an interesting personality? He needs someone capable of taking him on and keeping up intellectually. Can they keep up with him and challenge him?

Severus has a temper. Can they deal with his bullshit and not give up on him at the first scowl? Argue with him? It doesn't mean they can't be nice, but I don't see him get worked up over someone cowering under his gaze.

They need to be stubborn. He's a Capricorn and he's got the horns. He's hard-headed. They need to not back down when he bites or dismisses their attempts at flirting. One of Severus's classic tactic is to hurt people so they leave him alone, so they need to be able to dodge the attack, make fun of him or retaliate.

If they manage to deal with his temper, they will start to see what's on the other side of the snarky exterior. Then, they'll be able to start kneading the dough (Severus is the dough).

Convince him the attraction is real

That person could go the gentle/honest way, assuring him they're not kidding and explaining what they find attractive about him (he'd be super wary and need days to digest it - if he can). Genuine compliments could work quite well as he's good at reading people but it would be a process and it shouldn't be too much at once. He's NOT USED to compliments so if the person goes too hard, he's going to get overwhelmed, distance himself and reject it. A good trick would be to compliment his intelligence and magical skills alongside physical traits. A 2/3-1/3 ratio would be a good start. He would trust compliments about his big brain way more than anything regarding his cute butt.

Complimenting his presence, aura, voice might be good too as it's not directly related to physical traits. Else, physical starters could include hands and eyes. But I also love the idea of taking him by surprise and complimenting his nose. Might weird him out in a good way.

Or they could go the blunt way (or what I now refer to in my mind as the @maxdibert way) and be like "dude, I really think you're hot, deal with it" and leave him to sort his feelings out like a big boy.

The two strategies can be mixed of course. But at the end of the day, the real problem is that Severus as approximately a thousand confirmation bias in his mind telling him this is not happening. So what could they do to help ease this process?

Make him horny

Less overthinking = more chances to get this piece of ass.

Severus Snape needs to be warmed up. And as stated in my previous essay, he's plagued with the core beliefs that he's ugly, ridicule and undeserving. These beliefs need to be kneaded and challenged enough (not healed, this would take decades and it's not their job), so that he can relax and open up to the idea of intimacy.

Here are a few strategies to do so.

First, de-dramatize the subject. Making the topic less taboo by talking about it in a lighthearted way (no flaunting! certainly not!). A good move would be to joke about it. Deprived!Snape isn't comfortable with the subject but it's because it's evaded him and then he convinced himself he wasn't concerned or interested.

-> Here are some of the things he could benefit from hearing: that sex is not a big deal at all and we can laugh about it. It should be fun, a shared moment, trials and errors are part of it and there should no be judgment about experiences and preferences. People with a high 'body count' aren't necessarily good lovers, it's all about presence and intent etc.

His potential partner could share funny mishaps that happened to them and - when there's an opening - ask him what he would expect from a pleasant intimate moment (that's a very advanced move, don't forget he's bad with words)(it would only work in my opinion if they're both drunk and have been going at it for a while).

Also sharing experiences is a great way to build trust and intimacy (and arousal). He thrives on knowledge so learning more about his potential partner might ease his mind in some way (and give him some free intrusive thoughts). See it as added ingredients to make him simmer.

Though they shouldn't talk too much about the number of partners they had and said partner's skills. This might make him retreat. Again: low self-esteem and always on the lookout for an excuse to sabotage it.

Wait what about drunk!Snape you say? That's a trope we enjoy around here. Although I headcanon him as not being a heavy drinker (if a drinker at all because of his father) it would be a great way to lower a bit his inhibition. A DE would have a hard time sharing a drink with him, same for an Order member (he never stays after meetings but could be coerced), but a colleague could maybe drag him to the Three Broomsticks with other members of the staff and then leave early with him. wink wink Come on, rub his foot under the table and look at him choke on his ale. He'll skin you alive with his eyes and you can just raise a suggestive eyebrow back.

Persistence, persistence.

Of course a bit of physical baiting could help with his dusty libido. After all, they'd kinda be dealing with an teenager, experience-wise. Nothing too bold (though I headcanon that his sooty Cokeworth self would get way more worked up over unabashed desire than delicate courting but he's buried a bit too deep at the moment) but a nice cleavage, some leg showing, a fitting pair of pants or robes might not be a bad move. Since he might be uncomfortable with words, they could flaunt the goods in his face! The man has eyes, let him look and scold himself for looking. Also a few heavy looks, biting a lip and lingering fingers could go a long way for such a deprived man, especially if it's directed at him.

At the end of the day, the trick is to make him able to put his worry aside (or snap, if you find the word sexier).

They could go the provocative way, being insufferable and making him want to shut them up.

They could try some endless teasing until he's a lost hot mess, unable to express what he wants except by going 'fuck it' and going for it.

They could go slower and create a safe space with a weekly ritual (every Friday night meeting for a drink/to grade essays/to hang out) which can lead to a late night snog (floating candles optional).

They could be blunt and go 'I want to kiss you so bad right now' as they leave Hogsmeade together and are walking on the dirt path towards the castle. A gust of wind will prevent him from hiding himself behind his hair and they'll see the flush creeping on his face.

They could hammer the compliments and validation, because Severus craves recognition (is there a praise kink in there? yes). So first it could be his mind, his work, his skills... then the way his cape suits his frame so well, his silky voice... and then bam, hitting the nail on the head with complimenting his mouth. Blabbering mess guaranteed. Might flee but blush deliciously. Or might stop dead in his track and then it's time for them to claim these lips.

Kissing

Clumsy. Tentative. Awkward.

But earnest.

He might freeze at first. Wait, these lips knew how to do that once upon a time... how does it go again? He'll need a bit of time to remember but the best way to (re)learn is practice.

It will be a lot for him. As he's extremely touch-deprived he'd be literally rediscovering human contact. So much to feel, the supple of the lips, their shape, the softness, the wetness.

Honestly, deprived!Snape could get really worked up just from kissing.

(They could honestly make him cum just from this and some grinding. Amen. If he does he'd need reassurance after and still might flee and hide and snarl for a few days because male performance blahblahblah. Hopefully they'd be able to skip this step at this point in the relation.)

But I believe he'd enjoy it greatly and this might be a step he'd want to stay at for some time before going further.

Undressing

I headcanon deprived!Snape as being very self-conscious about revealing his body so it might only be possible with someone he really trusts. It might be painfully difficult for him (might require dimmed light if not obscurity but I mean come on, they're here to look at him and it'd be better for him to rip the bandaid... but giving him the option might help).

Either he'll be too aroused to care (or act as if he doesn't) or he'll feel very self-conscious and look for cues to confirm his belief that his partner will find him disgusting. It's the right moment for them to express their desire.

If for some reason he gets too triggered and leave, they wouldn't be back to square one but again, patience is key. He needs time. Or maybe they could convince him to stay and try to resolve the situation by stopping the intimacy and just talk about something else. It could be good practice to show him this isn't a big deal and that everything is fine.

But at this stage, complimenting him sincerely (no coddling) whilst not hiding their arousal could work nicely. Sprinkling some of the fantasies they had about him as well. ('I've been dreaming about these hands on me', 'You have no idea how much I've been wanting to kiss these lips to make you shut up', 'I laid awake at night thinking about touching this part of you'). Showing appreciation with touch could convince him more though and it has the advantage of preventing him to think too much.

But really, he won't like to focus on his appearance as it's something he has no control over so they should -unfortunately- bite their tongue and keep the flood of horny compliments to themselves at first. A new one might be fed to him once every two weeks to slowly build his confidence.

In Bed

Deprived!Snape is: prideful, yearning for control and very sensitive.

Now honestly I could make a whole other post with the different scenarios where he'd be more top or bottom. Instead, I will focus more on what would happen either way.

He'll want to learn. Because Severus is nothing if not a scholar. He's got a very curious nature regarding topics that interest him so if his partner is showing him how they like something, he'll get super serious about it. He will try to touch them in the exact same way at first and he's a fast learner so once it's mastered, he'll experiment. And he's going to be good at it.

That man got dexterity and an inventive mind. And that's canon.

But his focus on his partner might also be a way to keep control during this highly new situation. Depending on how self-conscious he is about his inexperience, shifting the focus on him might be a challenge. Maybe letting him take the lead could be a good idea. But maybe shoving him against the mattress and seizing control is the way to go here.

Now, he will be very sensitive, won't he?

Yes, he might. He might be a whimpering mess in no time. His partner should be cautious and gentle with him. Severus letting his guard down and letting them touch him is a very big effort coming from him so they should savor it and be sure to make it feel safe if they want this to happen again. Help him relax, let him breathe, don't hesitate to pause if he gets nervous. The walls will be destroyed, moan after moan.

But what if he isn't sensitive?

That's a possibility as well. He's been by himself for years and his wariness of intimacy and people is wired in his cells at this point. He's disconnected from his own body and never pays attention to it. He might also tense heavily once in bed with his partner, the vulnerability of it accentuating the disconnection. He might not feel pleasure, might get frustrated and feel angry or inadequate.

This situation - which I find very interesting and seems like a realistic follow-up to him wanting to kiss for a long time and struggling with undressing - is tricky and will require diplomacy and more patience.

But maybe this could be a dealbreaker for him. If the payoff isn't worth the discomfort, he could easily take it as a confirmation bias that intimacy isn't for the likes of him. The best course of action could be to focus on non-sexual aspect of intimacy.

But this essay is way too long already so I'm going to stop here.

What should I write about next? Is there something you wish I had addressed here? Is there something you'd like me to discuss next?

UPDATE: so a few people seem to be mad at me, demanding I keep on elaborating SO. Let's say I'm done here for the 'how to bed him' part (which was the premise of this essay) and I'll do another one following thoughts and possibly... focusing on the different roles in bed (top/bottom/switch) for our dear Severus. See you there.

TLDR: He's gonna be a pain, his partner needs to have calming draught for their nerves but in the end it will be very rewarding because he's starved and inventive.

[bamsara]

Would Tyren ever hurt The Lamb, or does he genuinely have [what he assumes to be] their best interests in heart?

He genuinely (in his own mind) has their best interest at heart.

Tyren being one of the most trusted flock members and one of the closest they have aside from Finor puts him in a position of seeing more of the Lamb then they are willing to share to the rest of their flock in a more proffesional manner (but no where near to what extent Narinder sees, not that Tyren knows that)

He, like the rest of the flock, does not like to see the Lamb in distress or be stressed and genuinely cares for them, sticks up for them in cases of dissention, and dislikes Narinder for the same reasons a lot of people do: distrust due to the cat's off-putting mannerisms and violent history. He doesn't like that Lamb is spending quite a lot of time with Narinder, someone who Tyren sees as a threat both in a saftey AND jealously type of way.

He's one of their most trusted, perhaps a loyalty enforcer or (now with the new feature in the update) even could be a diciple. Tyren is not just one of the Lamb's trusted, but the Lamb's friend.

So he might take it upon himself to make sure his dear friend and focus of his affection won't concern themselves any longer with anything that might put them in stress, say like: helping with cult chores, or cleaning outhouses, managing strong responsibilities like the food distribution during a famine or re-educating a dissenter, or the presence of a three-eyed cat that always seems to hover in their shadow that his dear leader is just too 'kind-hearted' to kick out or kill.

Even without the loyalty necklace, he was always a little...this. The will is there, but there is a laspe in understanding he does not realize he has. Something something The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions.

So he thinks he has his friend's best interests at heart. He knows the Lamb as his friend. He does not know Lambert.

[cloversnstrawberries]

this may sound very weird and everything but could you do a platonic yandere ada wong and leon kennedy parent duo sorta thing. like ada and leon are readers parents

platonic!yandere!parents!ada w. + leon k & gn!teen!reader [headcanons] ! !

masterlist !

additional notes; hello!! this isn't weird at all :]] thank you so much for requesting this,, i've been wanting to do parent duo sort of requests for a while, but got nervous because. i have... experienced things, being in fandom for a while... oh god the shipping wars. but i feel much better knowing that someone would actually read/want something like this :D i hope i did it justice ^^ i'm also sick, so my brain is cooking in my skull. i apologize if this is worse quality that usual </3

warnings; overprotectiveness, (slight) possessive behavior, soft yandere, mentions of Leon & Ada's jobs/what comes along with it, temporary imprisonment, manipulation, gaslighting, love-bombing, distrust, and if there's anything else i missed, please let me know!! I forget stuff the second i write it down :(((

w/c; 1.7k

Whether not you're biologically their kid, adopted as a baby, or adopted later; they'd treat you all the same. The difference comes with the way you react/how quickly you accept and adapt to their behaviors.

With their jobs, they're usually away for long periods of time. When you were younger (like, younger than 13), they would try their best to alternate their gigs-- sometimes it wasn't possible for one of them to stay with you, and when that happened, you'd stay with either Claire or Jill for a while.

It was just how it was, and you were fine with it-- you thought they'd give that up when you got older, that they'd trust you to take care of yourself.

That was never the concern with it, though-- it wasn't that you couldn't take care of yourself,

They were afraid that being their kid would put a target on your back. The older you got, the more missions they went on-- the more scum-of-the-earth they met, the more careful they got with you.

Leon is extremely protective, and while Ada seems to be more lenient; I'd actually argue she's the worse one to have worried. She absolutely pulls in favors to 'keep an eye on you', and does her best to keep tabs on where and what you're doing whenever possible.

Ada is extremely charismatic, and definitely uses that to her advantage. Meanwhile, Leon is so painfully and genuinely kind, that people can't help but trust him more often than not.

Because of that, it'd be hard for you to convince anyone, maybe even yourself, that they're absolutely insane when it comes to you. At some point, it goes beyond just wanting to keep their kid safe for their own good.

Neither are particularly selfish in general, especially not Leon. Ada has her own goals, but she has a moral code and has been known to go out of her way to help others from time to time.

However, when you get involved, that changes entirely. For Leon, he wants to keep you safe because he doesn't want to lose you; he's already lost too many people he cared for, and he'd be devastated if you were added to that list.

On the other hand, Ada's motivations are a bit harder to place. She cares for you a lot, something she isn't used to letting herself do because of her line of work; she's far more used to isolating herself rather than throwing herself full force into any type of relationship.

You were that one exception-- even with Leon, she tried that routine of keeping herself detached to try and minimize the chance of 'gaining a new weakness'.

Eventually she gave in and stopped doing that, and while that doesn't happen with everyone, it's happened before as well. Ever since she became a spy/mercenary, she hasn't allowed herself to attach to someone as quickly as she did with you.

It's on principle that she doesn't want you hurt because of it. You're the once exception, the one person to have ever gotten her to let her guard down immediately. There's no way she's letting you go because of it, and she'd rather let herself get into tight situations if it meant keeping you safe.

Both Ada and Leon share one thing in common with their attitude towards you, though. And to you, it's probably the most annoying thing about your parents, and nothing could top it.

If they feel the need to, they'll literally just go against your wishes. They won't listen if they get even an inkling that something could go wrong-- and when you were younger, they could easily convince you that it was all for your own good.

Neither Leon or Ada actually enjoy manipulating you, far from it-- Ada is more accepting of it, but Leon had a lot of hang-ups about it at first. Ada was eventually able to convince him that it was okay,

In that way, Leon is worse than Ada in this regard. Ada will only manipulate you as a last resort (though, her definition of 'last resort' can be pretty loose in of itself),

But Leon? You better bet he's pulling it out every opportunity-- because he feels like there's nothing wrong with it. Ada is at least able to recognize that it's not the best thing to do, gaslighting your kid into missing out on friends birthday parties just because of a 'feeling'--

Leon however, is extremely deluded. Partly Ada's fault, and partly not. Yes, Ada nudged him towards believing that it was okay, but it was ultimately Leon who took the leap. It was his reasoning with himself that actually convinced him that it was a good idea.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like they isolate you completely! Ada actually encourages you to go out to events, and make new friends.

Though, maybe that has something to do with the fact that when she encourages you, there's always a feeling someone is watching you that accompanies you throughout the entire event.

When you get older, you start considering sneaking out. Your parents actually didn't expect this-- you'd been doing well with how they've been treating you, and they assume you won't rebel.

You've always seemed accepting of it, but maybe it's on them-- that they don't realize the slight distrust that starts showing up in your eyes. They don't feel a need to look into it any further, if they do notice it.

Maybe you were able to sneak out a couple times before you were caught, or maybe you were never able to successfully pull it off. You don't know about your mom's actual job-- they'd worked hard together to keep that a well-hidden secret from you--, so you don't have any advantage over them.

If anything, you have a massive disadvantage. Considering your parents are a government agent and a spy/mercenary, you probably never even stood a chance.

After you get caught, either dragged back home from wherever you snuck off to-- or hauled out of the open window you'd been halfway through hopping over-- you don't get a scolding like you think you will.

Instead, you get dragged down to the 'guest bedroom' in the basement and locked in there for a little bit. You knew of it's existence, but it never made any sense to you. The house you live in is large, and while your parents don't get a lot of guests, it's happened before.

But with a whopping 4 above-ground guest bedrooms, there was no reason to build a 5th one down in the basement. The fourth above-ground one never got used anyways, it just never made sense to you.

But now, it really, really does. It was never a guest bedroom as much as it was a holding cell. You should've known, considering they put it together when you were around 12/13. A preemptive measure, you realize now.

They didn't think they'd actually use it, but they were glad they'd done it regardless. You've never been in it, but you remember when they were getting the furniture and items to put in it, and when you were barred from entering the basement for a little while the contractors were down there--

You'd seen it from the outside, too. It looked normal enough-- if you ignored the deadlock on the outside, which you absolutely did not notice. It was weird, the addition to the house-- but it wasn't weird enough to look any further than a glance every once in a while, when you were down in the basement doing your laundry and whatnot.

Surprisingly, they don't keep you down there for very long. It's not a permanent thing right now, is what they told you.

That, however, left the very terrifying idea that it could become a permanent thing if you weren't careful. Ada called it 'just punishment', and Leon, ever the dork, called it 'time out on steroids'.

He'd been trying to cheer you up when he said that, and you just barely kept yourself from cracking a smile at it-- you were supposed to be mad, after all.

For the punishment to have worked, you'd have to have been on some kind of break. So, let's say it was spring break they decided to put you in the 'guest bedroom' (holding cell, is what you were internally regarding it as)--

They let you out the night before school started up again, and your first dinner back in the actual house was tense-- to you, it was. But to your parents, they were treating it like every other day.

It pissed you off, to say the least. And for a few days after, you avoided your parents the best you could; but it was a hard thing to do on multiple fronts, even if you were genuinely angry at them.

A part of you wanted to tell people about it, about how they'd trapped you in the basement-- but that was a surefire way of getting the cops involved,

And you weren't really afraid of being taken away or anything,

Instead, you were deathly afraid of how your parents would react to the possibility of you being taken away from them-- Best case scenario, they'd succeed in weaseling their way out of it via Ada's silver tongue or Leon's influence--

...Worst case scenario, your parents would be on the CIAs most wanted list and flea to some remote part of Europe; and you'd probably never see the light of day again, without both of their full attention and supervision. Or not at all, maybe.

Safe to say, you're keeping quiet about your time in the '5th guestroom' down in the basement. That doesn't mean you forget about it, or ever fully forgive your parents for it. You aren't sure if they realize it or not, that you're still mad at them for it.

It's not like you forget about it-- you don't necessarily move on either. You just... focus on other things, is what you tell yourself. You try your hardest to hold onto the anger, but eventually it fizzles away; sometimes it flares up, but only for a few seconds before being cast aside. And only when you're already mad about something else.

It's hard to stay mad at your parents, especially when they try to hard to make up for it. That was their plan-- spoil you with attention and gifts so you stop zoning in on the 'time out on steroids'.

[gachagon]

Eva's isolation from the rest of the class and the status quo

I want to talk about how the other students ostracized Eva the most out of anyone in the class in Edens Garden so spoilers down below

I think out of any Dangan game, Eva was the most isolated and ostracized. I've seen some ppl compare her to Sakura in THH however the circumstances surrounding Sakura's isolation were vastly different than Eva.

Eva lied *once* about her Ultimate Talent which isn't something new since it's happened before in Dangan games, and she tried to hide that lie from the others in a pathetic attempt to make them not look at the watches and check the report cards.

Granted, they were right that maybe Eva lying about her Ultimate Talent, and then trying to make it so nobody looked at the watches could've potentially caused more harm than good, since they're in a killing game. However, I will remind everyone that this same cast has stated that they're not going to participate in the killing game at all and will just wait for their rescue. Why would they need to "make precautions to keep everyone safe during the game" if they're supposedly not going to be playing the game at all? It's hypocrisy because they hate Eva for lying, while also lying themselves about participating in the game.

And all that aside...what Eva lied about wasn't that bad. She only lied about her own talent and didn't want others to know about it more, and when everyone found out about it they began to mock her for it. Pretty relentlessly too, almost like they're still upset about her calling them naive in the beginning of the game. Or for being outwardly distrusting of other people.

When the motives are revealed, they blame Eva for Tozu's own actions and decisions because Tozu claimed that she inspired him by what she said about the watches (she said that any one could use the watches to learn secrets about other people which was true and exactly what people used the watches for, and then Tozu introduced the motives.)

It's unfair of them to blame Eva for something like that especially since Tozu admitted to Damon that all the secrets were all secrets that everyone had already revealed unknowingly, meaning that Tozu was just being an ass when he said Eva gave him the idea. He knew everyone disliked her, and just said that to add fuel to the fire.

The way the rest of the cast treated Eva aside from Damon and Diana is gross and bad. There was no reason for Wolfgang to try and keep them from investigating, nor was there a reason for him to suggest they were untrustworthy because of their difference in opinion about the Killing Game.

The truth is that the rest of the cast would much rather lie to one another about their intentions and how much they trust one another, than simply be honest about how they really feel. When Damon and Eva call them out in the prologue they're met with coldness and open distrust from everyone else.

But the rest of the class is more covert about how little they actually trust one another, proving that they know Damon and Eva were right the whole time.

In a way, they ostracized Eva the most because she questioned their status quo the most out of anyone, and it was easier to mock her or not take her seriously because of her talent.

AND they're hypocrites for mocking her talent because Damon was the one who claimed "not all talents are equal" in the prologue, not Eva. They all disliked Damon for saying that, but when Eva was revealed to be the Ultimate Mathlete instead of the Ultimate Liar, they resorted to treating her talent as lesser than their own. You know, exactly what Damon was doing in the prologue. But the difference is that Damon had the decency to be honest about how he felt then even if it made the others not like him for a short while.

In short, yes Eva is a bad person, but nobody else in the class are exactly "good" either. You can even tell their masks are all slipping by the way they all cringe at the end of the trial when Diana gives her speech about adapting.

These people don't want to "adapt" and change to the circumstances, they want things to have a steady pace and anyone questioning that steady pace gets shut out.

[dark-l-angel]

so, pretty much everyone agrees that Damian Wayne isn’t a touchy person, but do you have any fic ideas on just how much touchy is too much? And how he would communicate that? Plz and thank you for your time

Damian Wayne and physical affection? It’s one of those things that’s almost more of a power struggle than an emotional need for him. He's that tightly wound ball of distrust and stubborn pride, so touch? That’s not just personal space violation.. it’s a potential vulnerability he’s not ready to expose.

Now, when people talk about Damian being "touchy," I think they miss the nuance. He’s not the type to throw himself into a hug or happily accept a pat on the back. He’s that one kid who, when you put an arm around his shoulders, will either freeze up or awkwardly push away. Not out of hate, but out of this primal instinct to keep control of himself in a world that’s never really given him a chance to feel safe.

The whole "too much" thing? Yeah, that line is thin. It’s not like he’s a robot who can be calibrated. His reactions are a bit of a mixed bag. On one hand, he’s had to learn how to not be affectionate, so any touch, even the smallest, might send him into defense mode. But on the other, he craves connection in that weird, twisted, "I don't know how to ask for it but want it" kind of way.

If you look at how he might communicate it.. his words would likely be sharp and full of that "you’re annoying me" bravado. Think: "Stop. I don’t need this." Or, "I said don’t." It’s never gentle because Damian doesn’t do gentle. But in the rare moments when he does show vulnerability, it’s in these awkward, almost childish ways that are wrapped in pride.. like flinching away when someone brushes against him, or standing stiff as a board when Bruce tries to pull him in for something resembling a hug.

Now, if we’re talking about how Damian would handle it once he realizes he’s got no choice but to deal with it, I think there’s a learning curve. He might never be fully comfortable with the concept, but there could be that rare moment when he tentatively accepts a touch. Imagine, after all his tough guy act, he might actually reach out "just a little" toward Tim or Alfred, trying to match that same softness they show him, but struggling with every second. That moment when he wants it but doesn’t know how to ask.. it’s gold in terms of character depth.

So, to me, the line of "too much" isn’t about him being incapable of affection. It’s that his whole identity is built on control. And any touch, any hug, is a potential breach of that control. What makes it too much isn’t the touch itself.. it’s the vulnerability it demands. Damian doesn’t need affection, but damn, does he need to let down his walls just enough to trust those around him? That’s the hard part.

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

How do you think L would handle an outgoing, adventurous lover who was a little too trusting? Like, the type to accept party/event/trip invites from people she's just met, including spur of the moment ones ("come with me to x"). Since L is so distrusting and suspicious, I just wonder how he'd handle it

To me, this falls under the same personality-umbrella as Blabbermouth! Reader, so this is technically going to be another oneshot of that. Enjoy!

"I'm going out," you call from the doorway, slipping on your shoes. L peers past the wall from the couch, eying you curiously.

"Where are you going?"

"Well- okay, so, Jenny, right? 'Member Jenny?"

"I do."

"Well, her boyfriend has a friend, who has a girlfriend, who's having a big birthday party, and Jenny said I could probably just stop by since it'll be so big, they won't even notice I'm there."

"Do you...know this friend's girlfriend?"

You reach for another shoe, balancing on one foot to slide it on. "Uh...no, not really."

His eyes narrow. "Do you know anyone attending? Is Jenny going?"

"Uhhhhh...no."

"...I'd rather you not."

You cross your arms. "Why not? It's just a party."

"Many things can happen at a party."

"It's just like a club, no different."

"Clubs aren't particularly safe, either."

"L," you say, stern.

You lock eyes, a battle of wills.

A puff of air leaves his nose.

You've won.

"Keep your phone on."

"Kay!" You grab your wallet and keys.

"And call me when you've arrived."

"Alright!" You reach for the door.

"Watari can drive you."

"Oh, okay." You set down the keys.

"Perhaps he should accompany you."

"Ugh, no, just let me go!" Watari was grand and all, but you weren't going to a party with a 60-something year old man.

"Fine. Is your phone charged?"

"Yes, yes, all of those things, can I please leave?"

He eyes you up and down. Such a pretty outfit. You were too irresistible for the masses, what if you were kidnapped? Murdered? He knew all too well what happened to pretty girls in dark places. "Please return home at a reasonable hour."

"Of course. I'm leaving now."

"Yes."

"My hand is on the knob."

"I see that."

"I'm turning the knob"

"Your point has been made."

"MyFootIsOutTheDoorSoIfThere'sAnythingElseYouNeedToSaySayItNow-"

"Go, please. Have a good time."

"Love you!"

"I Love-" the door shuts behind you, cutting off his sentence. "...You...Hm."

It has been a while since you've gone out, he admits his worrying has deprived you of your favorite pastimes. You were a social creature, albeit far too trusting. He knows his constant nagging over your safety has deterred you from bothering, your need to avoid arguments and tiffs taking precedence over your need to see other people. This would be good for you, he decides, a way to let off some steam.

He opens his phone, and checks your location. You were fast, already on the move in the limo. The location tracking was one of many agreed upon safety measures, a product of his elusive nature. He needed to do some work, but all he could think about was you. You'd drink if it was offered, and with your inhibitions even lower than usual, who knows what you'd do? You enjoyed dancing and singing, what if you stood on a table, danced like nobody was watching, fell, and fractured your skull? What if your brain dislodges, and you go into a coma? He immediately reaches for his phone, but stops. There was no need to panic. You were a grown woman. You could take care of yourself.

Over the hours, he manages to do a few tasks, distracts himself with a puzzle, has a few snacks...but he was always thinking about you. You did call when you arrived, but since then, he hasn't heard back.

It was only 10...he'd hate to bother you...this was necessary. He nabs his phone.

It rings.

And rings.

And...rings.

"Hey!"

He opens his mouth.

"I'm not at the phone, so...leave a message!"

Right. He waits for the tone, and decides to do just that.

"It's getting late. I was wondering how you were. Call Warari or myself when you're ready to leave."

He doesn't say more than that, his tone doesn't betray his nerves. He stares into nothing as he hangs up, his hands clenching and unclenching around his legs. Logically, the party would be loud. You probably aren't on your phone. You wouldn't hear the ringing. But also, logically, anything could happen. Terrible, awful things. Things that people like him look at in high-definition photos, or examine in plastic baggies.

It took ten, deafening, terrifying, stomach-turning minutes for you to call him back. He was immediately met with the sound of cars whizzing by, you were outside.

"Hiiiiiii babyyyy," you croon.

"I called you," he says matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I didn't see, but um, I'm good to come home." Your words slurred, unfocused. You were clearly drunk.

"I see. Watari and I will retrieve you."

"Waitttt will you stay on the phone with me? I'm bored out here and I don't wanna go inside."

"Why don't you want to go inside?" Was someone bother you? Harassing you?

"I fell earlier and everyone laughed at me."

Oh. "I can stay on the line, but you'll have to wait a moment while I call Watari."

"Kay."

He picks up the hotel landline, and dials for Watari. After a short and clinical conversation, he's set to go and get you.

"L," you whine, drawing out the single syllable.

"Yes?"

"I miss you..."

"I'll be over shortly."

He makes his way out of the room, down the hotel hallway, into the elevator, soothing you all the way through.

"And I'm hungryyy."

"Would you like me to pick up food on the way over?"

"No, get here quick...but can we get food on the way back?"

"I suppose."

"Ugh, it smells like weed out here..."

"That's unfortunate."

"I miss you so much, baby."

"You've said that, yes."

"Well do you miss me?!"

"I do."

He exits the elevator, crosses the threshold of the lobby, and meets Watari at the car, quick to settle in and start navigating.

"What?? Oh, I'm talking to my boyfriend..."

"Who's there," he asks softly.

"Nobody, just this guy I met...he's like totally into me but it's okay because I loveeeeeee you."

"...we'll be there very soon, please notify him of this."

"Kay. Y- yeah, my man's gonna be here soon, so like, y'know, shoo."

He sighs. Speeding doesn't seem like a bad option...but if they were stopped for a ticket, it would only slow them down.

He didn't have to worry for long, within 5 minutes they were pulling to the curb of the mid-sized home, blaring with music and lights. You were sat on the sidewalk, phone to ear, pout on lips.

The second you recognized the car, you bounced up, rushed to the door, and slid it open.

He watches as you tumble in, into his lap, peppering his face with kisses. He holds you steady with a hand on your ribs, and reaches past you with the other to shut the door.

"Hiiii."

"Hello."

The car jolts forward, and you slide backward, not yet settled. He reaches for you once more, but you clamber into a seat next to him.

"How was the party?"

"Fun. Are we going to get something to eat or not?"

"What would you like?"

"I want McDonald's...or Taco Bell...or Wendy's..."

"I'll tell Watari to stop somewhere close."

he slides open the divider between the driver and passenger area, relays the message, and is swathed by you the moment he settles back. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kiss his cheeks and neck, and eventually writhe your way back into his lap. He really can't do much other than hold your waist.

"You're so handsome," you mumble, your words vibrating against his neck.

"Sit down," he sighs, patting the back of your head.

You reluctantly remove yourself from him, and settle in a proper seat. He does you the favor of buckling you up. "Are we almost there?"

"Yes," he nods. You won't know the difference anyway. "How did you fall?"

"What?"

"Earlier, you said you fell."

"Ohhhhh, yeahhh, I was dancing on a table."

He knew it. "Are you injured?"

"I don't think so."

He frowns. "Do you have any bruises? Bumps? A headache?"

You look down at yourself. "A few on my arm...no, and...no."

Two out of three wasn't bad. He nods, just as the car begins the slow. They've reached food.

One hour and a 10 piece chicken nugget later, you were safely tucked against L's arm, on the couch, half asleep. "You're so sweet to me," you coo, drawing circles on his thigh. He sighs, patting your head with a heavy hand.

"I wish you were more cautious in the things you do."

You grin, slow and lazy. "I don't need to be, 'cause if I get in trouble you'll come and save me."

He gives you a long side eye. You're too busy invading his personal space to notice, gluing yourself to his side. "Perhaps you're too reliant on my affection for you."

You blink. "Do you think I'm pretty."

He blinks back. "yes."

"How pretty??"

"Very."

"In what way?"

"In every way. Does that satisfy you?"

"...No. Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Like you mean it!"

"I love you."

"...thank you."

[mcytanti]

manehare analysis i looooove this freakish duo.

on the surface this team seems very sudden and doesn't make sense i mean they were enemies for such a long time, however, i think they make Perfect Sense Actually.

manehare makes sense because both of them gives what the other wants while acknowledging the place they are coming from. they have a distrust now but i think if they play it right they can have something that lasts across seasons.

we got confirmation today manepear really just loves his little chunguses. (his comment about being a mama bear really stands out to me it was awesome). we saw it earlier in the server with zam, then later with wemmbu and bacon. but all 3 of them didnt satisfy mane in the way he wanted. zam was friendly with the brothers but he was for the most part self sufficient, mane let wemmbu into the bandits thinking he would have to be taken care of but it turns out wemmbu was secretly good at pvp and while he lazy could take care if himself in a fight. bacon never wanted to play ball with mane and refused his advances.

however kab is perfeeeect for mane, she needs his help and his protection but she isnt lazy like wemmbu was. she's intelligent, cunning, and willing to learn so he gets all if the ego boosting of taking care of someone who wants his help but none of the annoyance of a resource drainer (sorry wemmbu but its true 😭).

mane is also perfect for kab, he's filling the void clown has left.

since the start of the season kab has wanted a powerful ally who can stand beside her when she wants them to, someone who can guide her, but someone who is also willing to crush her enemies when asked. she thought clown would be that but when given the opportunity he's been lack luster in the role. she then turned to zam as a guide and a teammate, but he didn't want to be her guiding light and thought it was far too sudden to team plus he was unwilling to do her dirty work so kazam fell apart.

mane, however, has a deep blood lust (wanting to death ban all the revived people is the most notable example of this) so he's perfectly fine with carrying out kab's plans as long as it means they agree on killing. he's also willing to train kab without her having to prove herself like she has to with clown (its in my personal opinion kab would have never proven herself to clown. not because she isn't good but because clown simply isnt interested in her development but thats another matter).

in my opinion the 14 killings is actually really good for this team! it means that kab cannot idolize mane the same way she did clown or zam because she knows that no matter what, mane is dangerous, he's able to kill her and is more than willing to kill her. and for mane despite the 14 killings kab still being willing to work with him must give him a crazy amount of validation because it proves that no matter what happened before kab needs him now

i think as long as the focus on their shared goal they can build a real trust with each other. not like a "i trust you not to kill me" trust but a trust the older lifesteal pairs have, that "i know how you think i know you inside and out and no matter what happens we will comeback together" trust.

however they still have all the potential in the world to fall apart in a pretty spectacular way. like if one of them gets too paranoid and betrays the other, or if they're influenced to betray by people outside the dynamic, or maybe kab's planning to betray from the start and we're all fools for thinking manehare could ever work, or simply losing sight of their shared goal and becoming enemies again. all those things could still happen!

no matter what i just love manehare as a duo. they indulge each other's deepest desires but they have so much potential to fuck it all up it a horrible terrible way. its such a careful balance with them im so excited to see where they go from here

[defectivehero]

The hero is taking their nephew trick-or-treating tonight for the first time, and they’re a bit nervous. Their nephew, Danny, is a great kid and well-behaved. The hero just isn’t used to acting as a guardian.

But as the afternoon begins, they start to relax as they see how much fun Danny is having. They watch as he runs up to a rather nice house, returning moments later with candy.

Then the hero sees the homeowner motion for them to come closer. They see that familiar form—almost seeming misplaced in civilian clothing—and their heart drops. Out of all the people they could’ve encountered… they just had to find the villain.

Gritting their teeth, the hero tells their nephew to run to the next house and stay within eyesight… before they walk up to the doorstep of the villain’s house.

“I didn’t realize you had a child,” the villain hums casually.

“Don’t,” the hero warns them.

“What?” The villain asks, having the audacity to look offended. “It was just an observation.” They blink innocently.

“He’s my nephew.” The hero spits out. They must be doing a bad job of hiding their distrust, because the villain sighs theatrically.

“Trust me, if I were up to something, you’d know,” the villain huffs. “Besides, I have… other priorities tonight.” They glance to the side and, in a few seconds, a child heads towards the doorway. The hero blinks. This must be the villain’s child.

“Um. Hi.” The hero says awkwardly, still reeling from the realization that the villain has a child.

The kid has the same eyes and nose as their parent. The resemblance is startling. “That’s a bad hero costume,” they remark helpfully. “You’re missing the amulet.”

They are missing their amulet, ironically. The hero self-consciously puts a hand to their collarbone before sighing. The villain looks endlessly amused, and also a bit wary of them—as if worried about their behavior in front of their child. The hero resists an eye roll at that, before glancing down the sidewalk. Their nephew is running back to them, bouncing on his heels impatiently as he evidently wonders what’s taking them so long.

“Hi,” the hero greets their nephew, placing a hand on his shoulder. He settles down a little, but still looks eager to go to the next house.

“Hi.” He answers. Then he looks curiously at the other child and smiles at them. The villain’s child smiles ever so slightly in response. The hero studies them for a moment, taking in those familiar hazel eyes on someone far more innocent and pure hearted than their enemy. Then they notice the kid’s costume and the slight frown on their lips and wonder if the villain has taken them trick or treating yet. It doesn’t look like it, actually—and that would explain the envious glances the kid is shooting at Danny.

“You know,” the hero says, crossing their arms over their chest. They’re already making the offer before they can think about it. “I was going to take Danny here trick-or-treating anyways… I’d be happy to take your child too.”

The villain studies them for a long, long time. The tense silence is only broken by a movement from the child at their side, who hesitates for a moment before crossing the threshold of the doorway and standing next to Danny.

“Do you want to go with them, Kel?” The villain asks; their child nods brightly in response. The villain lets out a long-suffering sigh, turning their attention to the hero. “Very well. I’m trusting you to ensure their safety.”

“Of course,” the hero responds sincerely. “I’ll have them back by curfew at 7.”

“6:30,” the villain argues.

The hero squints at them skeptically, before glancing down at their watch. It’s only 4:45 p.m. That’s plenty of time. “Fine.” They agree.

“If anything happens to them-” The villain starts.

“I know,” the hero interjects, before they can utter any threats in front of the children.

“I’m trusting you,” their enemy repeats gravely. “Don’t make me regret it.”

The hero nods, understanding just how much faith the villain is placing in them. Then an idea comes to mind. “Get your phone out.” The villain stares at them for a moment, before doing as requested. From there, the hero gives them their phone number. Then they reach into their own pocket and turn their phone’s ringer on. “Okay?” They ask, looking at them pointedly. The message is clear: Call me if you need anything.

The villain is staring at them with a complex expression on their face. “Okay.” They respond. Then they look to their child. “Have fun, alright?”

With that, the hero turns their back on the villain and watches as their nephew and their enemy’s child excitedly race ahead to the next house. They can feel the villain’s gaze watching them, even as they turn the corner and head out of sight.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

thanks for reading! happy halloween!!! 🦇🧛🏻

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[writingjourney]

⛧ WIP Wednesday ⛧

as of now untitled Secondo fic based on this premise – 2.9k words, fem!reader, third person pov, suggestive, inexperienced!reader talks about sex, 18+

edit: here is the finished fic

excerpt from: I – Confession

It is late, his duties almost over, and it is not a rare thing for someone to purposely arrive at this hour, usually when the matter they seek to discuss is of an especially delicate nature. Before he can speak, however, the Sister on the other of the lattice already falls into her confession.

“Forgive me Papa, I know the hour is late and you have lent your ear to many Siblings already but I must–” A deep breath and he sits up straighter as he realises who is talking on the other side. “I must confess that your kind words a few days ago have encouraged me to ask for your counsel in a matter that has been giving me many sleepless nights as of late.”

With no small amount of confusion he realises that she too must mean his brother. He is unaware of such an incident as the one she is describing and last he saw her – this very evening when she left her office with that heavy bag slung over her shoulder – she did not give a hint at being weighed down by something else.

Before he can make himself known, she is already continuing, the words flowing out of her so fast that he can sense the nervousness in her speech. “Perhaps I should start by telling you that I know, as you said, that there is no shame in inexperience and I am aware I am far from the only one who might be insecure about these things. However, the fact of the matter is… there is someone rather experienced who I have become infatuated with. A man, to be precise.” Another deep breath. “He doesn’t know about any of this and he might not even feel the same way about me but still I fear that he might be sorely disappointed if he… if he ever did decide to be intimate with me and found out how very… lacking I am. And I am not talking about sex, per se, it is rather… It is rather that I have never performed a specific act during my past encounters and I know that I will struggle with it.”

“And what act would that be?” he asks, without thinking.

She audibly startles, though she is trying to hide her gasp. For a second she says nothing, then she stammers out, “Oh, this is– Papa– I don’t–”

“Mi dispiace, sorella, you may have expected my brother to be here tonight. I can assure you, however, that you can confide in me just the same.”

Hurried breathing, he fights off an amused smile at her reaction. “But– because we work together–”

“I assure you of my discretion,” he replies. “I have done this for many decades, sorella. None of what we speak about in here will leave the confines of the confessional.”

She takes a moment to consider, perhaps feeling trapped now which is not his intent. He gives her time, the quiet settling once again. After spending so much time together he can’t shake that hint of disappointment that she’d go to his brother of all people, that she still seems too wary to confide in him.

“It’s just–” She takes a deep breath and he fights the urge to take a look at her through the lattice. “Will you be disappointed in me that I feel ashamed of my own inexperience?”

Ah. Is that what kept her from confiding in him? That fear that his good opinion of her might change? “I will never be disappointed by something like this, sorella,” he assures her. “I am only disappointed that you still distrust me so.”

“I trust you,” she stresses. “I do trust you. I think you’re the person who knows me best in this ministry but I do not want things to change between us. You’re… you’re the closest I have to a real friend.”

He cocks his head, surprised by this admission. “I promise you this will not change. I am here, cara. Take your time.”

For a second, she does not speak, shifts around on the bench. He hears her take a few shaky breaths and while this is not out of the ordinary it is unusual for her. Secondo did not take her reluctance for insecurity before tonight, confident as she is in her work, in dealing so well with him of all people. It is endearing to him, makes his heart ache inside his hollow chest in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“I have been with people,” she says, then, “but it wasn’t… it wasn’t ever anything special. Some… some fumbling, kisses that escalated and ultimately just a sort of disappointingly quick conclusion. I’ve not been very adventurous, it is hard for me to trust people so intimately with my body.”

“And there is nothing wrong with that,” he assures her, glued to her every word.

“Thank you for saying that.” Another pause. “It is just, now that… there is this man, I realised that I am lacking the skills that… that he might be used to. He is experienced and he knows what he wants which is something I find very attractive. And yes, this should not change his feelings for me, if he has any feelings for me, but if he does not want to take things beyond the physical nature of it then this might put a quick end to whatever is between us. Before I have a chance to convince him.”

“I see.” Secondo tries not to be vexed by this, the idea of helping her to please another man. “Sorella, dolce ragazza, will you tell me what it is that you are so intimidated by? Is it an usual thing this man wants from you?”

“No, that’s the thing, Papa. It is not unusual at all, it is… Satan, this is pitiful.” She groans into her hands. “It’s the fact that I have never pleased a man with… with my mouth.”

“Ah.”

“I know this is… it is such a basic thing,” she rambles on. “I am embarrassed, I should not be so worried about it but it’s that I… I am sort of sensitive if you understand what I mean and I’m afraid if I tried… it’d just end in a pathetic performance and he’d decide that he can do better.”

He can feel the blood draining from his face, pooling lower into his body. Only briefly is he irritated by this, being aroused by the mere fraction of the idea of feeling her gagging on his cock. But he can’t indulge this now, not when she is this upset about it. “Sorella, I do not have to tell you that he is not worth your time if this is his reaction.”

“I know and he might not– this might not happen. But with this fear, I’m sure my nerves will make it even worse. I just don’t want to get hurt.”

Secondo takes a deep breath and shifts to sit more upright, leaning towards the lattice now. “As I see it, there are two ways to soothe your worries, sorella. You must confess to him when the time arrives and you wish to please him – and you must tell him truthfully. If he is a man deserving of you he will neither laugh nor judge but guide you with patience. But you must want it, sorella. Remember that every act of sin in Lucifer’s name is one of great enthusiasm, not one of pressure or a sense of duty. If you never wish to perform this act for discomfort or any other reason then he must be understanding of this as well and respect your wishes.”

“But what if he isn’t, Papa? What if he doesn’t want to be with me when he finds out?”

“Then he is not a man that should ever be allowed to touch another person, let alone you. If this should happen, sorella, or if he forces you to do things you do not want, then you will come to me, yes? Promise me.”

She seems taken aback by his vehemence, quiet for a while, but then he sees the shadow of her nodding her head. “I promise.” He hears a sniffle, one that tears right through him. He hasn’t noticed her crying. “But… but what is the other way, Papa?”

Closing his eyes, he fights off the urge to step out of this booth and properly comfort her. He has ulterior motives, of course, biting at him like tiny parasites, not necessarily a bad conscience, he does mean to help her, but the urges underneath are anything but good.

“If you truly wish to learn, then they key is practice – with your hands, with a safe tool or perhaps… an experienced guide.”

He waits for her reaction now, hoping he did not overstep, that he has been reading her right and despite her feelings for another man she still harbours this attraction to him that he’s sensed when they work. He should not be toying with her in such a vulnerable moment, no, but if it would help guide her into arms he knows will keep her safe?

“A guide?” she asks.

He fights off a satisfied smile, curious as ever. “Someone you trust, sorella. Someone with experience and patience to show you how it is done.”

“I could not ask anyone of such a thing, Papa. They’d think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Would they?” he replies, then, unable to hold it back, “Who would you ask, sorella? My brother?”

“No!” Her voice rising. “It’s not like that, Papa. I did not– I just wanted reassurance from him, not to– I don’t think about him like that. And I don’t imagine anyone would voluntarily offer to be subjected to shitty blowjobs for a few weeks.”

“Sorella, you trust me?”

This time, she does not hesitate. “I do, Papa.”

“Then will you come over?”

“Come ov– right now?”

“Yes.”

He hears the wood creaking when she gets up, the soft opening and closing of the door to her booth. In front of his door she hesitates and he almost thinks this is the moment she’ll run away but then, with a visibly shaking hand, she opens. Moonlight streams in, illuminating her face that is still streaked with silent tears. He holds out a hand, and although it is a tight space she fits perfectly into his lap when he drags her there. If she notices that he’s already half-hard she does not comment, secured with a hand around his shoulder.

“Sorella,” he whispers, wiping at her cheeks. “It pains me to see you like this. You should have come to me a long time ago.”

“I know, Papa.”

“Will you let me help you now?”

She glances away, tensing. “I– Would you truly want to?”

“Yes.”

“And not out of pity?”

“No pity, cara.”

She eases in his grasp, allows him to cradle her face in his warm leather gloves. He knows they feel good on the skin, smell of the woodsy oil he uses to keep them soft. It tugs at him, that she is so distressed because of a man who is most likely not even worthy of her. No one is, though, that he knows. And he’d keep her alone if he could, their days spent down in the basement, sorting through his collection between bouts of frantic sex and good food. He’d show her everything, patiently, make her feel so good she’d never think about another man’s cock ever again.

“I’m scared to disappoint,” she admits, then, unusually small.

“I know,” he says. “You want to be good at everything you do, hm? I have noticed this with your work. But we cannot be good at everything right away. I was not, I assure you.”

“You’ve done it before?”

He nods, thumbs stroking over her soft cheeks. “I have done many things, some of which I was good at some of which were just not as good as in my head, hm? It does not matter if you are the best at it, ragazza mia, it matters that you enjoy it just as much as the man who receives it. Or at the very least that you do not mind doing it for someone you like.”

She smiles and he can see her finding back to herself, her gaze stronger, her hands on him firmer, assuring him that she does want to be here, do this with him. Shifting his weight a little he leans back so that she can rest more comfortably in his lap, leaning against the wooden side of the booth. His fingers stroke along her  jaw now, one hand moving to her hip while the other traces the curve below her ear, then forward to her chin, over to the other side. He does it until she’s relaxed, used to his touch.

Then he toys with her mouth. She tenses only shortly, allows him to part her lips, completely enraptured by his ministrations. It’s how he’s seen her look at him during mass, one of the few Siblings who never misses any of those he leads. A smile spreads on his lips, pride that she does indeed trust him, perhaps even longs for him, the intimacy he offers, his company. Slow movements, a finger tracing her bottom lip, feeling her teeth against the tip of it.

More daring, he pushes his thumb inside, makes her spread her mouth open wider. She shivers but allows it, her eyes never leaving his. The muscles in her jaw are tense. After a moment he removes his hand, tugs at his glove until it comes off. Perhaps tasting skin will make it more familiar and he has to admit that the thought of feeling her warm mouth on his finger makes his own heart speed up, that heat in his lower belly simmering on a steady flame.

“Is this good?” he asks.

She nods.

“Words, my dove, I need to hear it.”

“It’s okay, Papa.”

“Brava.”

He begins by tracing her lips again. This time, he inserts his index finger, longer, pushing further inside. When he sees that she tolerates it he adds his middle finger, a little deeper once again. He does not let it deter him when she gags right away, just retreats a little before going back to where she was comfortable. His fingers are big, he is aware of it, and she has never taken anyone into her mouth, something that thrills him more than he wants to admit to her face. If it takes him a long time to get her to take all of him then it only means that whatever man she was talking about will slip further and further from her mind.

“Not everyone is comfortable taking things in their mouth,” he explains. “It is only natural for the body to fight off the intrusion when unused to it, hm? It is for survival, sorella, it wants to protect you and you cannot blame it for that. But if you wish it so then we can practice and it will be easier with time. Do you want that?”

She nods, mumbling an affirmative around his digits. He smiles, lifts his other hand to pet her jaw encouragingly. Once again he presses down a little harder, goes a little deeper, and this time she is prepared.

“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs. “Relax your muscles, it makes it easier.”

She tries, he sees it, feels her breath against his knuckles. But it only lasts for a short time before she gags again, sensitive just like she’d said, perhaps even more so than he’s expected. But it is good, he thinks, this is perfect. He can show her, the ideal excuse to be close to her like this.

“Shhh,” he coos when she struggles to breathe, removing his fingers to the tips of her lips. “We will get you there, my dove. Do not worry any longer, your Papa will help you. You only have to trust me and you do, do you not?”

Another nod. At his raised brow she speaks, “I trust you, Papa. More than anyone.”

“Good. We will not go any further now. I want you to think about it, sorella, make sure this is what you want, yes? The next time I see you we will try again and perhaps we will try more if you are ready. We can go as slow as you need, but now you need some rest. I do not want to hear about sleepless nights again, at least not if I am not the cause of it.”

She nods, shifts in his lap, the arousal sitting uncomfortable between her legs and he knows he mirrors this discomfort, unable to keep his hips completely still. It is not for tonight, however, too much for her to work through already. But she looks grateful, he thinks, her eyes stay dry and the relief is palpable as her body finally relaxes.

This time, she does not forget. “Goodnight, Papa,” she whispers and leans in, pressing her face to his to exchange those wet cheek kisses. He holds still, waits for her to kiss his first, loudly, before he reciprocates. When she breaks away a hint of mischief is laced into her smile. “And thank you.”

His hands tighten on her hips for a second, keeping her there in his lap and holding her gaze with all that he wants to promise. Satisfied that she returns it without as much as a flinch, he releases her and she slides off his lap, leaving the booth without another sound.

“Goodnight, indeed,” he whispers, adjusting the bulge in his pants underneath his cassock. When he picks up his book the words swim on the page. He still has another hour.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

i am SO excited to hopefully share this fic soon, it's finally inspired me to write lengthier again and yeah, it's one of those cases where i was suddenly at 5k words after part I of V. so... it'll be a chonker!

[dippindaz]

Relationship HCs

Still unsure of how I wanna write the Sinners characters so forgive me if these are a bit choppy, I'm working on it!

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, and very slight arson, brief mention of sexual talk(Stack), mentions of crime, brief mention of a gun(Smoke), mention of stalking(Remmick obvi), manipulation(Remmick), control(Remmick), kinda gaslighting(Also Remmick, damn this guy's a catch), AFAB reader in mind though it's mostly gender neutral, I think that's it

Characters: Smoke, Stack, and Remmick

Elijah "Smoke" Moore

His life has been full of corruption, backdoor deals, and distrust in the system. That's just how it is for men like him. Smoke reads people like newspapers, and you earn his trust slowly. If you're "not from around here," he watches you like a hawk at first.

On the other hand, Smoke doesn’t "date"—he courts. Expect slow-burn tension built through lingering glances, quiet walks through town at dusk, and handwritten notes left tucked in a book. It’s old-fashioned in the most soul-stirring way.

He doesn’t open up quickly. Early on, he watches you more than he speaks to you—measuring your words, your reactions, your soul. But once Smoke trusts you, his emotional depth is staggering. He doesn’t say "I love you" often, but when he does, it lands like scripture.

He isn’t the type to grandstand. He protects you with subtleties—walking on the side closest to traffic, checking the locks twice, noticing when your mood shifts even if you don’t say a word. He’s like a steady hand on your lower back guiding you through a crowd. And he'd kill for you without a second thought. But you’d never know—his threats are silent. Just a hard stare, a slow stand, a calm "We done here?"

Smoke doesn’t announce his anger. He doesn’t rant, or threaten. He watches. Measures. Files it away. If someone hurts you—really hurts you—he doesn’t need to raise his voice. He’ll simply make sure that person’s luck runs out. Even if that's simply pulling out his pistol.

Smoke likes smalls rituals. Consistency. Getting up at the same time, making the bed, making coffee, sitting down to eat. He’ll invite you to share those rituals, not to control you, but because sharing sacred things is how he shows love.

You'll never have to guess what he wants. Despite not being a talker, Smoke isn’t a game player. But you will need to read between silences. In return, you get loyalty and devotion that feels elemental.

He's not PDA-heavy, but behind closed doors? Smoke’s hands say everything his mouth doesn’t. He holds you like he’s grounding himself. It's deliberate, reverent. Like he's memorizing every part of you.

Elias "Stack" Moore

Stack falls fast and hard—if he's into you, everyone knows. He’ll drag you into a whirlwind of chaotic plans, late-night drives, half-baked schemes, and sweet nothings mumbled against your neck at 3AM.

If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, he’s ready to throw down. You're his, and though he’d never cage you, he makes damn sure you feel claimed—in the best, most delicious way.

He can sweet-talk you into anything—an argument, a kiss, a stupid adventure. But beneath the charisma is someone who feels everything too much, all the time. You’ll be the calm in his storm, but Stack needs someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to him, too.

He’s the kind of guy who says "I love you" mid-fight, throws his jacket over a puddle for you, and would absolutely get you anything you ask for, even if it's mentioned in passing.

A stolen locket. A nice coat he bought for you. A flower plucked from the cemetery fence. He shows love like a fox bringing gifts to your doorstep—part concerning, part suspicious, but still all sweet.

Physical affection is constant with Stack. Arms slung over your shoulders, kisses on your temple mid-sentence, rough hands tangled in your hair. Stack loves hard, and he needs to feel close to you to function.

He uses every possible term of endearment for you—"doll," "sugar," "honeybee," "sweetheart," "babygirl," "pretty thing." He’ll call you "trouble" with a grin and whisper sexual things under his breath in front of others just to see you blush.

You spend most nights at the Juke joint together. He thrives in low-lights with the blues playing and whiskey flowing. He’ll take your hand and twirl you through a crowd like you’re the only person alive. He might get into a fight. He'll likely win. He’ll definitely make it look like it was for you—even if it wasn’t.

Stack takes things personally. You cry? He’s already on his way to break somebody’s jaw. He doesn’t think first. He reacts. Wildly, passionately. His love is loud, so his vengeance is louder.

Stack's temper is a match waiting for a strike. But with you? He softens. Even during the fights you may have, he'll barely raise his voice, if at all.

He is feral about making sure you’re taken care of. He grew up knowing pain and hunger, and you’ll never feel it if he can help it. Even if it means going back to a life of crime.

Remmick

At first, he waits. Watches. Learns what you like, what you dislike before you ever know his name. Then, Remmick woos like a gentleman—pulls out your chair, quotes poetry, knows exactly when to laugh, when to lean in, when to say your name like it means everything. But it’s never just romance—it’s strategy. Your reactions are data. Your affection is leverage. At least, that's how it started.

Everyone else is expendable, usable. But you? You’re different. Once you’re his, he doesn’t let go. He might test you, manipulate you, but it always comes with that unsettling devotion. You’re not part of his plan. You are the plan.

He'll act like some upper class man in most scenarios, folks trust easier that way. But when it comes down to it, he fights like someone who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. Because truthfully, he did. That duality is part of his draw—and his danger.

With enough motivation, he can find anyone. And if they hurt you or insult you, you won’t hear a word about it after the fact. You’ll just see a headline the next day about a new missing person. And his only comment? "I warned 'em."

Whether you have money or not means nothing to Remmick, he doesn't want that. He wants your loyalty. Not the easy kind. The kind forged through shared secrets and dangerous truths. If he has your trust and you have his, he’ll kill the whole town for you. Burn the world for you.

He's possessive, but not always openly. You won’t always see it. But you’ll feel it when someone else touches your hand too long. That cold silence. The next day, the person is gone. "They had debts," "Shame, really."

Remmick doesn’t control in obvious ways—he guides. He convinces. Suddenly you’re wearing what he likes, avoiding who he hates, echoing things he’s said. But he frames it like care. And maybe to some extent, he believes that's what it is.

He doesn’t believe in second chances. Betrayal is met with ruin. But if you wrong him—hurt him, lie to him—he can’t let go. Not really. He might punish, withdraw, twist the knife—but he won’t walk away. You’ve been branded into his soul, and he hates that as much as he craves it.

Someone talks bad about you? They’re scared shitless later that night. Touches you without permission? Their business burns down. Hurts you? They vanish. He doesn’t just get even—he erases.

He trusts almost no one. Most people he keeps close are pawns and usually not even people. But you? You’re the one person he doesn’t use, even if he manipulates the world around you. He’d kill for you. He’d die for you. And though he'd never let it happen, he expects the same devotion.

You’ll never get the full story (At least not while you're human). Not until it’s too late. You’ll know pieces: his banjo, the letter in a foreign language he hides, the night he came home covered in blood with calm eyes. You’re not sure if he’s trying to protect you—or protect himself from what you might think.