#at this point it's gotta be deliberate i mean come the fuck ON

[robocracker]

casualty twitter account dropping a preview clip of ryan advising cam to try mirroring jodie to get close to her and ryan and cam are literally mirroring each other as he says this, i swear to god if this tedious excuse for a love triangle doesn't end with ryan and cam getting together i'm gonna start a riot

[lornasaurusrex]

I miss you Lorna… this is such a mess

This is an old message and I had several other similar messages, but I miss you guys and hope you’re all doing well!! I’m sorry to see nothing has improved.

I saw I was kindly mentioned by @awesomefringey and some other commenters the other day, so just wanted to log in and say hello and log back out for a few more months. 💕

Sending so so much love to all of you. Take care of yourselves and each other, please.

The video is still on YT.

[cxrdycxps]

Decisions • Abby Anderson

Main Masterlist • Abby Anderson Masterlist

☢️ Canon typical violence • angry sex • Abby is mean • angst • hurt no comfort ☢️

“Shh, you gotta keep quiet.” Abby whispered into your ear and you squeezed your eyes shut, attempting not to make a sound.

She moved her hand up over your mouth, pressing closer against you. You were breathing heavy but you couldn’t help it. At this point you were pressed together tightly. Your back was against her chest and she had one hand wrapped around your waist and one hand over your mouth.

You shuddered in her grip and she pressed you against the wall, flattening herself against you. You couldn’t stop the whine and Abby hushed you again quietly.

That was when you heard it. The ominous clicking that signaled almost certain death. You could feel your tears running down your face and along the seam where Abby’s hands covered your skin. You weren’t supposed to be here.

“It’s okay.” Abby whispered, barely breathing the words against your ear. “Relax your breathing.”

You tried your best, releasing slow, measured breaths so that you were no longer sniffling. You couldn’t relax all the way but it was better than you had been.

You barely had time to flinch when Abby released you, her knife puncturing the skull of the infected with a sickening squelch. She was back in your space in seconds, crowding you gently, her hands cupping your cheeks. “It’s okay, it’s dead. You’re okay.”

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline still pumping through you or how closely she had held you while she protected you. You surged up on you toes to kiss her, arms around her neck. She made a muffled sound of surprise at first before moaning, her hands falling to lift you up her body.

You didn’t need instruction to wrap your legs around her and she pressed you tight against the wall of the small storage cupboard she had hidden you both in.

“You okay, baby?” She asked when you pulled away to press kisses to the edge of her jaw, ducking awkwardly to reach. “What’s going on in that pretty little head ofyours?”

“You always fucking-” you didn’t want to pause in your kisses but she freed one of her hands to grab your jaw, fingers digging in to force you to make eye contact. “You’re so fucking capable, Abs. So fucking brave and strong and you protect me so well.”

Abby knew that desperate whine that was clawing out of your throat. The babble of praise you offered up to her without shame. Usually you were riding her strap or she had her face buried between your thighs. Never like this, never while she had blood splatter on her clothes and you were scared out of your mind. “Is this some new kink?”

“I don’t know but if you don’t fuck me right now I might cry.” You whispered against her neck and she grunted when you tugged at her hair. “Please Abby, I need you. Please.”

“We don’t have time. We can’t, it’s not safe and there’s not enough time.” She whispered and sighed when you whined pathetically. While she had her usual cargos on, you had a pair of soft sweatpants because you weren’t supposed to be here. Abby was supposed to be mad at you.

“Please. I’m sorry, I know and I’m sorry. Please Abby, I can’t bare it. I need you.” You were begging through gasped breaths, dangerously close to sobbing. She wanted to soothe you, she wanted to bend you over and fuck you. She wanted to wrap you up and never let you go. Mostly she wanted to strangle you and Owen both for this stupid plan.

She pulled you closer and your head tipped back in a moan, her belt buckle pushing against you just right. It hurt, just a little. A bite of pain that only fueled your arousal. “Hurts, Abby.”

“Does it?” She asked, grinding into you more deliberately, moving her own hips so that you felt everything. Your face looked like you had found nirvana and planned to stay there. Your fingers clutched Abby’s shoulders while you hiccuped a sob this time. “You know what hurts? Coming back to an empty room.”

Abby pushed against you and you whined, choking off into a moan. She leaned forward and rested her face in the space where your neck and shoulder met. “I’m so sorry. Won’t do it again. Won’t.”

“I don’t fucking believe you.” Abby was moving with purpose now, grinding into with her belt, listening to your hitched moans. Your pained whimpers turning into groans of pleasure. She hadn’t ever wanted to hurt you, not really. But this, torturing your poor pussy while driving you to orgasm? This was something that let her exert that helplessness she had come to when Owen had told her how they’d lost you.

Scars had scattered the group, running for cover and Owen had lost sight of you. He had come straight to Abby and explained how he had stupidly brought you out and now you were lost. Abby was prepared to murder everyone that got in her way. For the good luck of everyone, none of them had tried.

You had your head back at this point, humping against her like a bitch in heat. She laughed meanly, fisting the front of your sweat pants and pulling them tight against you. “Oh fuck! Please, hurts so good. I’m sorry baby. Make me feel it. Make it hurt tomorrow.”

This wasn’t normal for you both. Sure there had been desperate moments where you both had to have each other but nothing like this. Abby was always delicate with you. Always worshipped your body like the gift it was. But there was something about you begging for the bite of pain, for the feeling of her even tomorrow. She wanted you to limp. To wince every single time you stood up or sat down. She wanted you thinking about this moments for days.

She pushed against you faster drawing small uh, uh, uh’s from you as you just took what she gave you. You were so beautiful and so precious to her. She needed to keep you safe, she needed you to know how scared she had been.

Like you could hear her thoughts you apologized again, a mess this time. Tears spilled down your face and you were sweating with the exertion of your movement. “‘m so sorry. Never again. I deserve this Abby. Give it to me hard.”

Abby circled her hips and you shuddered against her, gasping. She did it once, twice more and then you whined, high and loud and she pressed until you pushed against her shoulders. She didn’t move. “Hurts, hurts, hurts.”

“Does it?” She moved her hips slowly and you moaned, shaking your head. “Too much?”

You nodded and she circled her hips again, listening to the choked noise of pleasure you let out. There was a safe word in place. You could stop her with that. Even a firm no would do it. But you didn’t use either, hitching sobs as she continued circling her hips in exquisite torture. “You wanted to feel it tomorrow. Feel it now.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Love you.” Abby had never felt this urge before. She had never wanted to hurt you, to unleash her anger on you. Maybe it was wrong of her, to make sure that after this it wouldn’t be a pleasurable pain. You would remember that she had done this. This was the pain she had caused because of how you had made her feel.

Abby hadn’t felt helpless in a long time and she took this feeling and gave it to you, grinding harshly until you clamped your hand over your mouth and muffled a scream as your second orgasm was pulled from you. Because it wasn’t gentle, it hurt and you felt raw but the pleasure, the pleasure. Well it made it all the better.

“From now on you listen.” Abby had her hand clasped around the back of your neck, squeezing to get your attention. “When you come out you do it armed, you wear your gear. You don’t ever fucking swan off with Owen for a stupid fucking record player.”

“It was for you. For your birthday.” You mumbled, hazy in the aftermath. Your eyes were unfocused and you whimpered when Abby shifted and accidentally rubbed against you again. Abby’s breath catches in her throat and something in her just snaps. “I wanted it for you.”

“That makes it worse. So much worse. Do you know what it would’ve done to me that you died getting a fucking birthday present?” Abby gasps, the realization washing over her. She would’ve known. Owen would’ve told her.

She lets you down slowly, taking a large step back when you reach for her. You pause in place and she shakes her head. “I did this once before. I lost my important person. I can’t do it again. I can’t watch someone I love put their life at risk over stupid decisions.”

“Abby, come on.” You step closer but she only shakes her head, backing away. You swallow roughly. You knew she’d be mad. Of course you had known but it was supposed to be easy. In and out. Owen said so. “Abby, don’t do this.”

“It’s better if we stop this. Cut it off now. I can’t do it again.” Abby doesn’t wait for you to understand and turns away. You follow her and wince, the pain between your legs becoming decidedly less sexy. “When we get back to the compound I’ll move back into my room with Manny.”

“Abby. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” You begged, reaching for her but it was like she knew, pulling her arm away without looking. “Abby.”

“I won’t survive losing you like this. If this is what it takes for you to understand what you’ve done then so be it.”

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

MODERN!ANAKIN SKYWALKER who's got a bit of a situationship with you. It's not like him, he's very new to it all and its rules, which means some key details get lost in translation with him. For most, the "talking" stage consists of the ability to still see other people during, keeping your options open so to speak. For Anakin, he expects a sort of unspoken faithfulness he had no reason to define until now.

Now, as he stares at two words. "she's busy." A text he's been deliberating over for an inappropriate amount of time. What could possess another person to answer your texts for you? A glance to your contact name confirms it, just in case he was losing his mind. He kinda wishes he was. He taps your name, and calls you. Three rings. An answer on the other line, that is most certainly not you, invades his ears.

"Yo," the deep voice says and Anakin doesn't say a word as he hangs up. Without a second thought, he pulls up your Snap Map which you've stupidly left on. You do that a lot. Sometimes he checks on you only to see what you're up to. Some days he watches your little Bitmoji happy on it's map at that little cafe you like, and he calls you to see if you'll tell him the truth of where you are.

He gets in his car, and tracks you down.

His fingers drum against the steering wheel, just like his fist drums against the front door when he gets there. It shakes the whole fucking house. He takes a step back, resting his hands on his hips, and his tongue forms over his upper lip.

The door opens, and he comes face to face with the guy he presumes texted him, and answered the phone. This is his place. "Can I help you?" he questions with an attitude Anakin doesn't fucking care for at all.

"I don't wanna talk to you, I wanna talk to her." Blunt as ever, Anakin comes off as unstable to your companion, who obviously bucks up in your defense.

"The fuck? No. What do you think this is?" he responds, and the escalation of raising voices causes you to recognize who your friend is talking to. So you come downstairs, and see that familiar head of golden curly hair.

"Anakin?" you question in disbelief, slowing your descent down the stairs. At your arrival, Anakin's attention completely shifts onto you.

"Hey." He nods up. "We need to talk." His finger points to the space in front of him, as if calling you over like a dog. Oddly and subconsciously compelled, you make your way closer to him. Your friend's arm rests on the door frame, cutting in between you two. Apparently he didn’t want Anakin slipping inside. You only notice how much taller he is compared to your friend. If he wanted to, he’d put him on his ass with a well-placed one-handed push. You try not to think about that now as you approach, standing directly behind your friend’s elbow.

“What the hell are you doing here?” At the end of your sentence, Anakin’s massive hand snatches your upper arm, and your friend goes to separate the two of you with a commotion of “woah, woah!” You appease him, tell him it’s alright, that you’ve gotta take care of this, and allow yourself to be drawn away from the door step and closer to the street.

Once he has you where he wants you, he releases you, and you jostle from the loss of support. That hand wipes down his face, the most irritable you’ve ever seen him, and he gestures to you as he steps closer, “If you’re pulling this shit, let’s just call it.” he tells you, dismissing entirely the existence of the man who owns this house.

The crease in your brows deepen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—“

“You do, and if I’m competing with other guys I don’t want any fucking part in it.” The towering figure before you stoops to get eye level with you, “Either get smart or fuck off, alright?” You hate to say that his low voice sends shivers down your spine.

His direct ultimatum makes you indignantly blink at him, taken aback at his sheer tenacity as you weigh out the options. He doesn’t give you enough time, scoffing at you, and turning his back on you. As if he could be so bold as to expect to be the only one you’re talking to, expect to treat you this way.

And yet, somehow, you end up back at his place. Impossibly fat cock driving into your insides as he picks you up by your hips into his thrusts. Knelt onto the bed, he rocks forward, while your cervix is getting bruised into submission. You squirm, arching your back off the bed with your pretty legs stuck straight into the air. “Who’s fucking pussy is this, huh? Who’s fucking pussy is this?” Skin smacks skin, harder than before. His tongue forms over his upper lip, brows pinched in focus as he fucks you like he means to beat you into the shape of his dick.

You don’t even hesitate. “Yours!” You whimper. “Yours, Ani, all yours.” You’re lifted almost entirely off the mattress, he straps his hands over your thighs to keep your ass pinned to his abs that sheen with sweat. Cunt stuffed to the brim as he relentlessly bullies it, creating an empty fucking vacuum that screams at you every time he pulls out. You really are fucking obsessed with this entitled behemoth of a man and what he can do to your body in a few strokes.

“That’s fucking right, baby, and don’t you forget it.”

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 9

Holy shit I don't think I have ever felt more relieved watching the penultimate episode of a Thai BL than I did this week. I was expecting doom, I was expecting gloom, and while both were absolutely present, we did not linger there.

This is just my opinion but to me that alone is proof of how much Mame has grown as a writer because for a second there I was fearing another Don't Say No situation.

BUT THIS AIN'T ABOUT THAT LET'S YAP ABOUT MICROEXPRESSIONS

I need to start with my baby because after the horrors last week, seeing her smile means everything to me. Gotta hold onto it as long as I can because we all know what's coming.

And speaking of smiles, this situation is TERRIBLE there are delinquents coming at my man with 2x4's but this feral smile from Mahasamut?

This one is purely for Meena's benefit, to comfort and reassure her but it is genuine, Fort's eyes are very sparkly. He switches gears very quickly when the getaway bike arrives for the thugs though so however chill he seems, he absolutely isn't. He just wants to keep the baby (and Vivi and her friend) calm.

It's very disconcerting to see Vivi this serious.

We're 2/2 on smiles for other people's benefit. My poor girly.

*stares at Viviana* You did this.

This look of pure murderous intent may be one of my favorite expressions Mut has had over this whole show, especially because it's paired with that clenched fist. And I'm going to give extra praise to Fort for it because he doesn't clench his fist until after Tongrak apologizes for what happened and he doesn't open his eyes until his hand is practically trembling from holding it so tightly.

This response doesn't come when Rak tries to blame himself for the beating; it happens when he apologizes for it. Mut isn't angry in the abstract and he isn't angry at Rak, he's angry for him.

I don't like this face, Khun Tongrak. I actually had a moment where I thought to myself, "why can't I read your face right now?" and of course it's deliberate on Peat's part. Even without knowing what we know from the preview, this face would have told us that Something was about to happen.

Or maybe that's just me, I don't know. I've been staring very hard at Peat's face for the past two months.

Watching Tongrak desperately try to steel his nerve after entering the snake pit that is his sperm donor's house is heartbreaking.

As much as I hate to subject you (and myself) to more of Jak's face, I'd like to point out that like last week, his face is in shadow while the face of the person he's speaking to, in this case Tongrak, is catching the light. Also worth noting that Rak's back is quite literally against the wall in this scene.

We see this play with light/shadow again when Rak has a flashback of him from his childhood. Jak has always been a vile, psychopathic snake and his true feelings and intentions have always been hidden behind shadow.

It's horrible to say because there's so much anguish behind it but this is such a beautiful expression. There's a split second where he tries to look angry but it just doesn't work.

I think there's a tiny part of Tongrak that truly believed that tearing up the contract would be what made Mahasamut leave and on the flip side of that, a part that was afraid that the contract was truly the only thing making Mut stay.

GODDAMN THIS IS THE SEXIEST THING MAHASAMUT HAS EVER SAID ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

For people like Tongrak and for people who can relate to Tongrak in the sense that one or more of the parents we pulled in the great gacha of life are horrible and shitty, there comes a moment where you realize that they aren't actually these huge indestructible monsters. They're human.

And when you realize that and look at them, it's like you're seeing for the first time. There's a weird sort of pity and whatever the opposite of awe is that you feel that's hard to describe. It's a feeling of "...Is that really it? Is that all there is to you?"

That is what Peat is portraying so incredibly in this scene.

BLINDING LIGHT OF LOVE LET'S GOOOOOOO

WILD HORSES, YA'LL! WILD FUCKING HORSES!

Pouty Tongrak face, as a treat.

Mook and Mahasamut were talking about Tongrak and what Mut would do if he got rejected when all was said and done, but Mook's face when Mut says he would accept the rejection tells me she's also thinking about herself and Vivi.

I actually really wish she would've talked to Mut about it directly because god knows girly pop needs to talk to someone about Vivi. Or better yet, Vivi herself.

As for the preview next week, do not even sweat it babes because you know what?

THERE ARE COLORFUL PATTERNS ON TONGRAK'S BODY!

I LOVE GETTING EVERYTHING I WANT!

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 40 part one

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Agree to Disagree

The juniors are arguing because Sizhui said that some demonic cultivators might have good intentions. According to Jin Ling that means that Sizhui is celebrating the murders of Jin Ling's parents, or something.

(Actor) Peixin Qi uses forehead-squinching as a primary acting tool, which would be perfectly fine if he wasn't playing a character with a red dot between his eyebrows.

He goes on to say that Wei Wuxian is the evillest of them all, way eviller than Xue Yang. Which in sheer numbers of victims, is probably a fair point. But Xue Yang was way more of a dick.

Ouyang Zichen is all of us when he asks Jin Ling to chill the fuck out.

Sizhui apologizes even though Jingyi is ready to throw down on his behalf. It's unclear if this helps, because Hanguang-Jun chooses this moment to arrive. He immediately defuses the situation with the power of stinkeye.

(more after the cut!)

More Than Meets the Eye

Many differences between CQL and the novel are adaptational choices - Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's deep, early friendship; the yin iron plot, Jiang Cheng being loveable, etc. Changes like that, I normally don't point out, because adaptations are AUs, in my view, and can be enjoyed separately from their sources.

Other changes are driven by censorship, however, and in those cases I think it's fair to look to the novel and its less-censored adaptations for a peek at what's happening off camera. Particularly when there are scenes and interactions in The Untamed where the show seems to be deliberately pointing to the novel to fill in the blanks.

This moment on the stairs is one such scene. In the show, Lan Wangji carries liquor upstairs to Wei Wuxian, and the juniors react with shock; Jingyi drops his chicken out of his mouth and Sizhui stuffs it back in there.

They are shocked because he bought liquor, and that's the extent of their reaction.

In the Donghua, Manhua, and Novel, Lan Wangji is dragging Wei Wuxian up those stairs, having drunkenly tied him up with his headband.

First he stops to show his prize to the juniors, who have basically the same reaction in every version of the story, including Jinygi dropping his chicken and Sizhui stuffing it back in his mouth. In the novel, however, Sizhui does that to stop Jingyi from saying anything to Lan Wangji & his captive.

The liquor, in all versions, is a clear sign of how much Lan Wangji has mellowed since his youth. In case we need another reminder, we learn here that he let Sizhui get a tattoo on his finger.

Every parent will tell you, you gotta pick your battles.

Returning to to the timeline in which no visible bondage is occurring, Wei Wuxian is sitting around in the room upstairs waiting for Lan Wangji. Wasn't he busy talking to Lan Xichen when Lan Wangji went into the inn to shut the kids up? How did he get upstairs before Lan Wangji? Never mind, never mind.

Wei Wuxian goes to look out the window and Wen Ning appears, hanging off the roof like a dork, or like someone who has seen that one Spider-Man movie and is hoping for some upside-down kissing.

Wen Ning asks if Jin Ling is the kid he halfway orphaned, and Wei Wuxian says yes.

Then he hears Lan Wangji coming, and Wen Ning falls to the ground for no reason.

Wei Wuxian urgently shoos Wen Ning away, trying to hide him from Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning acts way too clueless for someone who spends so much time third-wheeling.

There's no in-world reason for Wei Wuxian to hide Wen Ning; They fought side-by side in Yi City, and they were all together for A-Qing's burial. There's not a problem between him and Lan Wangji.

Once again, the novel provides the missing information. Wei Wuxian is hiding Wen Ning because Lan Wangji is hella jealous even when he's sober. Wen Ning fell to the ground because drunk Lan Wangji leapt through the window and kicked him.

In the novel, Wei Wuxian & Lan Wangji's evening ends with a game of tag that's loaded with sexual tension, followed by a kiss...followed by Lan Wangji literally knocking himself out to avoid taking advantage of Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji does everything in the most extreme way possible.

In the live action, the most sexually charged part of their interaction is this positively sinful hip thrust that Wei Wuxian gives when he turns around at the window.

If you've seen Xiao Zhan dancing, you know this is not an accident.

Unlike the novel's perpetually clueless protagonist, live-action Wei Wuxian clearly knows he's on a date right now.

...and he's enjoying every minute of it. He's delighted that Lan Wangji has provided *good* liquor, rather than the rotgut he's able to afford himself.

As he pours for Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji points out that both of their brothers know who WWX is at this point. Wei Wuxian isn't happy about it but he says they can't do anything. Which is...not correct.

He tries once again to get Lan Wangji to tell him how he recognized him, and Lan Wangji responds by asking him why his memory sucks so much.

Wei Wuxian says "you try dying by falling from a great height TWICE and see how your brain likes it." That's what he should have said, anyway.

This whole thing about his memory isn't actually important in the live action, even though it keeps being mentioned. He's forgotten the name of their song because he was delirious when he heard it; otherwise his memory seems perfectly fine.

I think this might be another instance of the live action giving a wink to novel readers in the audience, because in the novel Wei Wuxian forgot Lan Wangji's confession of love. Which, like WangXian, was presented in a cave while WWX was delirious; Lan Wangji is not great at choosing his moment.

Anyway, this may be why Lan Wangji seems to take Wei Wuxian's memory problems personally, despite having very little in-show reason to be upset.

Lan Wangji changes the subject by asking Wei Wuxian to go to Jinlintai with him, to search for Nie Mingjue's head. Sounds like a perfect romantic getaway for a boy and his favorite necromancer.

Just as Wei Wuxian starts to ask what Zewu-Jun will think, Zewu-Jun and his cheekbones come into the room.

He's taken time to think things over--a concept the rest of the cultivation world could stand to learn about, incidentally--and he agrees that they should investigate.

Note: the non-CQL illustrations come from the MDZS manhua, which is complete online (mangadex.org includes the uncensored extra bits), and is about halfway through being published in English by Seven Seas. It's delightful and I highly recommend it.

Bonus: Lan Wangji and Sizhui enjoying some tie-in cup noodles. (A few in-character ads are included in the Viki version of the show.)

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you are still taking questions, could I ask about Uryuu? Or Mizuiro, I have always loved him and wanted to see more of him.

The day after The Stabbing Incident in which Ichigo's Shinigami Powers were activated, Lunchtime:

--

"Rukia!" Ichigo called from the door. "We got a club meeting!"

"What? Oh, right!" She giggled, all bubbly persona, which immediately vanished in the hall "-You signed me up for a club? Ichigo, you know I don't have time for extracurriculars!"

"Calm down, this one doesn't assign homework. We just meet on the roof for lunch." He explained, marching resolutely against the stream of traffic in the hall.

"Oh? Up to something illicit are you?" Rukia teased, ducking behind him to avoid being swept away.

"Nah, we just meet on the roof so Kon can join us." Ichigo shrugged kicking open the door to the roof.

" 'SUP NERDS!" Ichigo bellowed affectionately at the gaggle of teenagers already assembled on the roof. "Okay Rukia, this is the "I Can See Ghosts And It fucking Sucks Club", guys, this is Rukia."

"Hi miss Rukia!" Waved a readheaded girt that puberty had hit like a truck.

"-Rukia is a shinigami like the freak that used to live in my dad's attic, and last night one of those bigass monster ghosts attacked my fuckin' house and Rukia kinda accidentally-on-purpose stabbed me and now I got fuckin' shinigami powers, which is mostly being able to ditch my body and summon a bigass sword to kill the monster ghosts with."

Those assembled stared at him in silence.

There was a rattle and Kon appeared at the top of the chain-link fence around the roof. "You know Ichigo, I think I know why your Literature class grades suck." the cat sighed. "Rukia got injured and used her magic sword to transfer her powers to Ichigo to fight off the hollow, and accidentally gave him too much and now she's stuck here until the Shinigami skills bleed back out of Ichigo."

"Ohhhhh..." the group nodded.

"-By stabbing me." Added Ichigo. "I feel like the stabbing part is being lowballed here."

"Welp. time to reset the counter." Sighed a lightly disheveled young man with brown hair, and the youthful looking lad with black hair beside him opened his laptop, typed for a few seconds and then turned the screen to show the group a digital counter that read

DAYS SINCE OUR LAST SUPERNATURAL NONSENSE AND/OR GRIEVOUS BODILY INJURY: 0

Previous streak: 17.324 Days.

"Thanks. Very helpful." Sighed Ichigo. "Tweedle Dee and tweedle Dumbass here are Mizurio and Keigo."

Ichigo pointed to the brunette. "Keigo here comes from a long-ass line of psychics and has been documenting every instance of supernatural activity in Karkura town going back to the middle ages since he was like. Ten? Don't let the fact that he's deliberately failing out of school fool you, he's probably the world's most brilliant moron."

"Iiiiiichigoooo, why you gotta make me sound like a loser in front of the actual-factual ghost girl?" Keigo whined.

"I'll stop making you sound like a loser when you stop being a loser." Ichigo huffed, and pointed to the black-haired youth beside him. "Babyface McGee here is Mizurio, he's our other technology geek, and he can cast Summon Gun."

"Pleasure to meet you Miss Rukia!" Mizurio said, extending his hand politely. "If you need some armament against the- what did you say they were called? Hollows? - I can provide you with something. First one's on the house, as my Uncle says."

"Oh!" Laughed Rukia. "By 'summon gun' you mean you have a way of purchasing weapons! I thought for a second you had the magical ability to spontaneously manifest guns or something ridiculous like that!"

The group collectively grimaced at her, except for the silent Giant, who was too busy snuggling Kon.

"Have you ever fired a weapon like a handgun Miss Rukia?" Mizurio asked holding his hand up beside his head, as though holding up an invisible object.

"Uh." Said Rukia, staring at his hand. ""...No."

"In that case I'm going to reccomend a Glock-17 lightweight pistol-" Mizurio nodded, and a small, bright blue light ignited in his palm, swirling and drawing Reishi into it, forming a physical object.

"-it's very reliable and easy to sight accurately, and doesn't have much of a kickback so I'm confident you'll only need a little practice to be able to handle it reliably!" He smiled cheerfully as the object finished manifesting in his hand, and he easily unloaded it with a practiced motion, set the saftey out of habit and offered it to Rukia to inspect.

"UH." Said Rukia, recoiling from the weapon with alarm.

"Oh don't worry!" Mizurio chirped. "Any gun that I make- And I make them, not summon them- has infinite ammo once the clip is loaded, and it's perfectly effective against hollows! You'll be perfectly fine using it!"

"I- You- I mean-" Rukia sputtered, staring wide-eyed at the gun. "-Did you. Learn? to do this?"

"Hm-..." Mizurio frowned at the gun. "Well, I've gotten better at it over time, but it's not like anyone taught me, if that's what you mean."

"Uh-huh." Rukia nodded, teeth bared in an attempt at a smile that completely failed. "You. Uh. You got any German ancestry?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know!" Mizurio laughed. "I don't actually know who my father is, and I strongly suspect he doesn't know his father either! Why?"

"...Mizurio, I think you're a Quincy."

---

Downstairs in the lunchtime meeting of the Karkura High School Crafts Club, Uryuu Ishida sneezed in the middle of a demonstration of different stitch types, and knocked over a large bottle of glitter, coating the entire room.

"...That's a bad omen if I ever saw one." Muttered one of the girls, sparkling.

---

"What's a Quincy?" Mizurio asked.

"It's a- Okay, before I start an explanation, is there anyone else here with weird supernatural powers?" Rukia asked.

There was a whirl of energy behind her and she turned to see the Silent Giant that had been cradling Kon had manifested a strange, sleek armor over his right arm. Kon was still cradled like a very spoiled infant in his left arm, purring.

"Hi. I'm Sado Yasutora, but I go by Chad." he spoke, voice barely above a mumble as he cautiously peeked up at Rukia through his bangs. "This is my punchin' arm."

"...Great." Whimpered Rukia.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Hello! I just saw your Matriarch post! Can you possibly do a prologue about her backstory and her going to the other dimension with a batfamily and batmom that are still alive and together? And possibly a part 1 where she just walks into the Batcave one night after she sends out an all-call to the bats and the league and once they all start questioning what is going on she comes out and tells them about her backstory and how she'll prevent her future from happening by offing the rogues one by one and saying something like "I'm the only one who could ever succeed in doing this. And do you know why... it's because I know exactly how each and every hero and villain alike think. I know every plan and protocol in place that both sides of the gallery (i.e. meaning the heroic side and villainous side) have in place, how to stop or outsmart them, and every single possible move any of you could make against me. If you think you can stop your wife, mother, friend, or whatever else I am to you, then by all means... I invite you all to play my game, if you can capture me AND discover my plan, then I'll stop for good and go back to my time. But should I be victorious, well, the world and all of you are MINE."

Sorry for it being so long! And for the long monologue!

[Damn, that is good!!]

[Matriarch Au]

Notes.

In this au (Y/N) pretends to be a hero for the public sake. A part-timer of the league in the future.

Bruce doesn't know (but has suspicion) she is killing or torturing almost half of his rouge gallery.

She's afraid that Bruce won't love her become of his no-killing code.

There's technically a "(Y/N)" in this timeline who meets Bruce and falls in love. But, The Matriarch technically killed her before she could meet Bruce.

But here's another question. How does this (Y/N) interact with the Batfamily?

Since (Y/N) knows of each horrible thing that has happened to her children and lover. Batmom is very protective then most other Batmoms.

She still wants to give her children freedom, but also knows that when she did... They were beaten or almost killed for the sake of protecting others.

Batmom decided to mess with this world's timeline so it would be better than her own. But still deliberately decided to let some things stay the same.

1st Example, Dick Grayson. Now depending if Batmom came around before Dicks parents demise is up to you. But in this instance where she did, Batmom would try to save his parents but it doesn't work out.

2nd would be Jason, this is where it gets kinda fucked up.

Batmom is a very caring individual but Matriarch isn't.

Batmom would do whatever she can to make sure Jason will never know of his mother being alive. Batmom will even go out of her way to guilt-trip Jason and emotionally manipulate him. To the point where he doesn't care if his real mother is alive or dead.

But, if Jason does end up curious and decides to find his mother. Aw hell he ain't gonna be free from Batmoms protection. Including Matriarch.

Batmom will get Bruce on her side to not let Jason out of the house or better yet city to look for his mother. It will take a lot of convincing and emotional manipulation part two. Anything regarding Jason's mother or possibly anyone close to bearing resemblance is wiped from the Bat-computer database.

If Jason managed to find a way to convince Batmom or escape Gotham. You are three steps ahead as Batmom or Matriarch.

The only way Jason could even wind up dead is if Batmom was a second too late.

From that point on if that happens, it'll be a much worse for the latter members and friends of the Batfam.

(Y/N) has and will install trackers on everything and anyone. Your always listening, always alert.

You'll put on the facade sure, but the truth of it all is that.. You're no longer just "scared". No you're terrified, to the point you have the smallest threat or villain is your biggest enemy.

-

[I'll write more for Batmom/Yandere/Villain reader! I swear! If you guys want more let me know, I still gotta describe how Matriarch Au deals with villains.]

[Maybe even write a angst dead dove do not eat fic later hopefully. Thank you for reading!]

[meta-squash]

I really wish there had been one more episode between Adrift and Fragments in series 2.

I know Adrift isn't really a favorite episode but it leaves some huge unanswered question and does some really interesting character advancement for Gwen. But because Fragments comes next, nothing gets done with any of that.

One of the unanswered questions is: Do Owen and Tosh know about Flat Holm? I think it's easily plausible both ways.

If they know about it, they also are probably very aware of the limitations of such a facility and also the potential consequences (emotional and security-wise) of letting civilians or family members know about it. I wouldn't be surprised if they were told that Flat Holm was need-to-know. (I wouldn't put it past Jack to tell them separately, so they both think no one else knows.) In any case, if they know about Flat Holm, I think by this time in series 2 they would also be able to gauge what Gwen's reaction would be and how she would try and push the limits of this project, when it's already pretty much as good as it can get, considering the nature of, well, everything.

On the other hand, it makes sense that Ianto knows about Flat Holm if he's doing secretarial duties like expenses and supply runs and things like that, and that it was hidden from everyone else.

And then, if they didn't know about it before, were they told about Flat Holm after? Did Gwen tell them? Or Jack? Or Ianto? I imagine they would react in a more reasonable way than Gwen. Perhaps they'd offer some suggestions for changes but I don't think they'd push much.

The other question is, what's Ianto's motive? And what was Jack's response? We know Ianto pointed Gwen to Flat Holm and we know Jack figures it out, but we don't see them talk about it after. Did Ianto give her clues because he knew she wouldn't stop pushing? Did he give her clues because he thought her knowledge of the facility would be helpful? Was he trying to teach her the exact lesson that she learns in the end? How did Jack react when he got back? What was the conversation between them? It's the first time since Lisa that Ianto deliberately defied Jack and went behind his back about something. That's gotta be a pretty intense blow to their relationship and trust, at least in that it will bring up old wounds.

And the entire episode like I said is some interesting character advancement for Gwen. This is the first time her pushing truly and spectacularly blows up in her face in a way that cannot be fixed at all. For the most part every time she fucks up or goes to far either Jack/the team are able to save the day, or she fumbles it back. This time, the damage is done on a level that she can't undo, and she learns that sometimes you can't do more, that it's better not to know things, that sometimes her actions of "caring" do more harm than good, and learns that there's a lot more to Jack and Ianto and the whole business of running Torchwood than she thought.

I just wish there was one more "regular" episode in between Adrift and Fragments, where we get to see how those realizations might have altered how Gwen saw or functioned in the job, and how Jack and Ianto's relationship might have been affected, and stuff like that.

I mean, I know that's what fanfiction is for, of course, but I'd be so interested to know what the actual showrunners would have done with it. Mainly because the trajectory all the characters were going in in the latter half of series 2 was actually pretty interesting, and then it just screeches to a halt.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

hey mate I enjoy your writing and I think you're good at it but have tou not heard that calling Drifter 'Rat' is p racist? (he's Chinese and so the word has got quite a loaded history)

Ok, well, I suppose it's time.

Cut for length and to respect those who don't want (or cannot mentally afford) to engage with this topic.

Fair warning in advance: My blog is not a platform for hatred. People being shitty to each other in comments will get blocked, regardless of whether you're for or against what I have to say.

And I absolutely know some people are going to block me over talking about this at all. I am saddened by that, but I accept your judgement. This is something I feel everyone needs to think critically about and come to their own reasoned responses, not just knee-jerk outrage react, even though I know there will be knee-jerk outrage reactions. I still love you even if you must go. I will miss you.

If you feel the need to quote me and shit on this post on your blog (or in Discord or wherever), I can't stop you. If you choose to do this, I hope you have the decency to actually engage in what I am saying rather than deliberately misinterpreting my words to mean something they do not. But the lust for ragebait attention is strong so I am not going to be surprised when it happens, just disappointed.

First, the obvious:

Racism fucking sucks. It's systemic. It's a gross disease of human culture based in power dynamics and cruelty, and it's extremely shitty: up to and including the use of racial/ethnic slurs to describe a group of people.

The use of rats, mice, cockroaches, locusts, and anything that falls under the umbrella of 'vermin-type animals' as derogatory ways to describe any group of people of pretty much any racial or ethnic background that isn't whatever group is privileged and in power at the time (usually White, but not always) is a well documented historical fact.

It has happened. It has happened a lot. Many, many times. It has never not been shitty. It will never be ok.

It has been used against people of Asian heritage. It has been used against people in the Middle-East. It has been used against Indigenous people on every continent except Antarctica. It has been used by racially White groups against another White groups but predominantly it's been used against People of Colour.

It is a thing. It has always been a thing. It is a thing right now. People do this right now. It is not funny or irrelevant. It is objectively wrong. It would be nice if humanity could get to the point where we aren't shitting on each other like this but I'm not holding my breath on that one and neither should you.

I live in Canada. My grandmother was a Residential School survivor. If you don't know what that is then don't look it up unless you've got a strong stomach for mass child abuse and genocide. The abuse from my grandmother's experiences continued generationally. I have had so much taken from me because half of my heritage was considered to be literal vermin (written into the laws of the country I am a citizen of) and determined to be in need of being 'civilized.'

The other half of my heritage is Ukrainian: a White ethnic group that has been seen as vermin, had their culture erased, and is currently dealing with another, more powerful White ethnic group taking over their entire country by force in the name of 'bringing order.'

Both groups in my own personal ethnic background have historical documentation referring to them, specifically, as “rats” in the ethnic cleansing “gotta call an exterminator” sense and both groups have been victimized by regimes who treated them (and still are treating them) as exactly that.

I am speaking to you as a person who is intimately familiar with the effects and consequences which happen when one group of humans dehumanizes another, considering them vermin in need of extermination (or “colonization” or "relocation" or "civilization"), and treats them as such – including, and in particular, the word “rat.”

I have also looked very closely (with a full academic literature education background training me to look for these things) at all instances of the word "rat" within all the Destiny 2 lore I have been able to find.

The Drifter's Asian heritage and features (I believe he is canonically at least partially Vietnamese but that is based on some very fuzzy details) in the game are depicted in loving detail. Aspects of his ethnicity are well researched and beautifully represented. He is not a racial stereotype. He's a glorious instantiation of several tropes combined with some genuinely unique, complex, and interesting character depth, breadth and development.

The insult of "Rat" when used for him in-game is based upon his behaviour, his mannerisms, his professions (salvager, skeezy fight club organizer, criminal, etc.), and his individual character history. He is also not the only person with Asian features and/or heritage in the game. No one is running around calling Ana Bray a rat.

There is also an extremely strong and direct reference being made by the specific use of "Rat" for the Drifter: It's a shout out to The Stainless Steel Rat, the intergalactic criminal and con-man main character in a series of Science Fiction books written by Harry Harrison in the 1970s which the character of the Drifter is clearly based upon. I read every single one of those books as a child.

In addition to all that, the Drifter's specific situation, where he became a complete murderhobo/Dredgen for a while from the sheer trauma of living through humanity’s collapse in the Dark Age is eerily reminiscent of what happened Universe 25, a famous Psychology/Behavioral Science experiment on societal collapse, in particular the collapse of a utopia, performed on rats. Don't look that one up unless you have a strong stomach for animal cruelty. It's not nice.

Based upon my own personal lived experience with my own personal background having a very relevant relationship to groups of people people being systematically treated as vermin (and in particular called “rats”) and based upon the use of the word in-game being specific to that character, to his circumstances, to the character in another book which he was based off of, and the likely influence of an infamous animal behaviour experiment, I genuinely do not feel that Destiny 2's use of "rat" as an insult-turned-loving-pet-name for the Drifter is racially or ethnically based.

But, ok, what if it's not intentional? Is it still just blanket-not-thinking knee-jerk always-forever unacceptable to ever reference a character with Asian physical features as "Rat" in any fiction ever, no matter what the circumstances, because historically that group was one of the many groups in human history who have been called rats?

I don't think so, but I do feel this is something where the logic gets far more fuzzy and indistinct.

And before I get into the reasons why I feel this way I need it noted here that because I am not, myself, a member of the targeted group, I understand that some people will feel that anything I say about the matter should be disregarded.

And I further need it noted: that opinion, while I do not agree with it, is valid, should be listened to, has weight, and is something that not only should be, but must be, handled with respect and empathy.

Microaggressions exist. They happen. And they don't have to be intentional.

Just because I genuinely believe that calling the Drifter "Rat" within the Destiny 2 universe is not racist doesn't mean it isn't hurting someone. And furthermore, it doesn't mean I'm not wrong.

The root of what I believe on this topic is that, by using the same logic, any non-white character in any situation referred to as any sort of vermin-type animal would then be a racial/ethnic slur.

Furthermore, (and this is the contentious part): unless it is racialized in context of its use, I feel calling someone vermin is not a de-facto automatic reference to ethnicity.

And yes, I know what a dog whistle is. I just don't think this is one.

I don't feel use of "rat" toward an individual is the same as other clear and well-documented racial slurs because its use isn't specific to any individual group. (I'm not listing them - but you can look up on Wikipedia for a list of documented known ethnic slurs. And, please note, "rat" isn't on there for the same reason: it's been applied to too many different groups of people in human history to be pinned down to any particular one.)

Is calling any group of people "rats" and referring to them as vermin due to their heritage racist? Yes. It is. It absolutely is. No argument. This is true.

Is one fictional character calling another fictional character who isn't White "Rat" automagically racist regardless of context because any connotation of any non-White person with vermin becomes instantly race-based no matter what? I don't think so, no.

And I further believe that restricting the range of creative expression to only "safe zones" to avoid offending people "just in case they misunderstand and get the wrong idea" results in "only-good" stereotypes and creates depictions of fictional People of Colour that don't ring true as people at all. It causes any POC characters to become flat, boring, poorly written caricatures, which runs counter to good representation in fiction and is, itself, a form of racism.

But (and I cannot stress this enough) just because I feel this way, and feel strongly and have tried to be diligent with my research, and think critically about it, doesn't mean I'm some sort of authority on this topic. And just because someone else, regardless of their ethnic background, feels differently, doesn't make them right (or wrong). Because this is one of those situations where objective and/or technical right and wrong don't actually matter all that much. What matters is how people feel and why they feel that way.

I have observed that the bulk of the commentary around calling the Drifter "rat" comes from, broadly, three main mindsets. Some of them are well meaning, and others really very much not.

Some of us have workplaces with strong equity diversity and inclusion policies. I work in one of them. People who rage against EDI and similar initiatives are toxic asshats who need to sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. The "just don't go there in case you might offend someone" approach is absolutely the correct one for a workplace. It doesn't matter if you're right or not. If someone says that calling them something offends them in the workplace you stop doing it. Period. That's basic human respect.

Calling the Drifter "Rat" as a deliberate insult from one character to another in fiction is not the same as speaking to a real person in the real world. If I worked with the Drifter out in the real world (putting aside the fact that the work would probably either be highly dangerous and/or illegal) and I called him "Rat," a trip to HR would absolutely be warranted and it wouldn't matter whether or not I was right regarding my use of it. I would be contributing to a hostile workplace environment and my job would absolutely be justified in firing my toxic ass.

But Destiny 2 is a videogame. It's a fictional post-apocalyptic world full of robots and aliens and space wizards. It's not a workplace. It's art. Art needs to be able to use things like allusions and metaphor and poetic resonance and dramatic effect and it needs to be able to depict things like insults and harassment and complex interpersonal relationships that absolutely would not be ok in a workplace. I believe it is acceptable to depict such things in fiction and for them not to be inherently racist just because someone points a finger and goes “that word is bad!” Context matters and I feel that, while it is well-meaning, this argument is reductive and not accurate in this situation.

The second reason I see people being 'concerned' about fictional characters calling the Drifter "Rat" being racist has nothing to do with racism and it’s the reason I see most often (although I probably have considerable selection bias in play). The bulk of the time I've seen this argument, it does not appear alone.

And I'd like to take a moment to thank the person who asked this question for not being like this. Their question was asked from a position of empathy and I recognize and appreciate that. This is not about them.

But this is another situation where context matters, and it matters, not in the use of the word in the game or in fanfiction. It matters in the context of when the argument comes up online. When you see people talking about calling the Drifter a rat being racist, take a look at their statements before and after they say that. The vast majority of the time someone brings this up (from what I have seen), it's in the same vicinity as an attack. It doesn't take much to see that this argument's primary use in the wild online isn't about racism at all: it's just a convenient excuse to hurt people. This specific flavour of criticism of the use of a term in fiction is overwhelmingly brought up to only be followed by (or preceded with) unrestrained shittiness targeting a non-fictional real-life human or group.

This is not the first time racism has been raised as a pitchfork in "shipping wars" but one quick glance around every time you see it mentioned should be enough to show you that it's absolutely a major tool in the arsenal of a particular subset of people who, for whatever reason, really really hate the idea of two specific fictional people kissing. Because yes, most are already blocked by this blog (or already did me the favour of blocking me - thanks!), but there are some people out there who hate the concept of Drifteris so much they attack real live human artists, writers, developers, and anyone else that so much as hints that they like the idea of those two characters being in a relationship, with any and every possible verbal assault they can think of, including accusations of racism. They openly celebrate when these humans lose their jobs to layoffs. They insult them on social media. They send abuse and threats and feel not a shred of guilt over it.

Because to this sort of person, it doesn't matter if there is any truth to their justification. Critical thinking left the building long ago. What matters it that they hate something, and in their minds anyone who loves the thing they hate no longer gets to be treated like a human being deserving of empathy or respect. By coming up with racism as argument for why the person they are attacking ‘deserves it,’ they've now given themselves carte blanche to be a 'hater' and spew venom in white hot catharsis and cruelty.

And that particular (and unfortunately quite popular) use of the 'issue' of calling the Drifter "Rat" in D2 is not only just generally shit behaviour that should be grown out of well before people reach an age where it's legal to be on most websites (never mind being old enough to play Destiny 2) it's also excruciatingly shitty to use the very real, very much happening right now out in the real world, problem of racism to try and win internet outrage points in a petty tantrum over the 'wrong' fake people kissing.

But, that aside, there is a third reason people get concerned over calling the Drifter "Rat" and, in my opinion, it's the most valid one, because it comes from a position, not of fear of offending the morality police, not of hatred of fake people kissing, but from empathy. And that's the fact that regardless of whether or not I think calling the Drifter "Rat" is racist, there are victims of real-world racism, harassment, and general human cruelty who might encounter the use of the term and feel targeted and/or triggered by it.

I am non-neurotypical and have my own triggers. I don't need to agree with you in order to respect yours. The argument of "when I read this, it makes me uncomfortable" is not something you answer by telling someone "your feelings are wrong." It's something you listen to and, if you have a shred of empathy within you, try to find a way to accommodate.

While I do not agree that calling the Drifter "Rat" is racist, I absolutely want to make sure that anyone who does feel that way can still feel safe reading my writing, and I've taken the approach of treating it how I would want my own triggers treated: with appropriate tagging so that if someone does find the use of the term upsetting (or even just offensive) they can filter all instances of it out and not have to deal with seeing it. I've shifted my use of the #moonrat tag to reflect this on Ao3, Bluesky, and here. Unless I've screwed up (I am human and make errors but I've tried very hard to check thoroughly for this), if I use "Rat" to refer to the Drifter in a story or its title, I make sure it is tagged as #moonrat so that it can be filtered out. If I reblog something that references it, I tag that with #moonrat the same way I try to tag anything that someone has told me they find upsetting. Like the content I can't read without getting a panic attack, the point is not censorship, it's respect.

At least, that is the intent.

So while I don't think that the context within which the term is used within in the game (which is the context I am mimicking with its use in my fanfiction) is ethnically based, I also don't think I get to decide how other people feel. And I hope anyone reading this who feels I am wrong at least recognizes that I am attempting to engage with them with empathy and respect, not dismissal or derision (unless you're using accusations of racism as a weapon in shipping wars - then absolutely I have nothing but derision for you - fuck off and don't come back until you obtain a healthy dose of emotional maturity and figure out how to not treat people as things).

Microaggressions, racial slurs, and treating humans like vermin are heavy topics that need to be treated with respect and empathy. They have hurt me personally. They hurt other people every day. If you feel that calling the Drifter "Rat" is racist, I'm not going to argue with you. But, like all appeals to emotion, I invite you to think critically about it and, even if you disagree that there is context and nuance involved, please treat other humans who think differently from you as humans with basic dignity.

I find the way that Eris' calling the Drifter "Rat" has shifted in D2 from pointed insult to cherished affection to be exquisitely beautiful. I feel it honours their bond and displays a complexity that other terms cannot. I use it in my writing because it matters to me. The Drifter's ethnicity is likewise beautiful and something to be cherished and appreciated. The way the writing within Destiny 2 has developed "Rat" has been to move it from something initially derogatory and personally cruel to something that is gentle and kind, signifying affection and acceptance and care. That is the context in which I am intending by its use in my own writing. However, I understand that I don't get to decide how other people feel, and again, I respect (and want it respected by others) if you feel otherwise.

I write what I write out of love. My fanfiction is a gift. If my gift is not to your liking, that is ok. If you feel that tagging instances where I use the term is insufficient accommodation, that to use "Rat" to refer to the Drifter at all is propagating racism and that there can never be any other interpretation for it, then that is your belief and there is nothing I can do to change that.

Reason is an ineffective argument against an idea based in belief.

However, this is me here and now telling you that my stories are made with love… for the characters, the story, and the readers who interact with them. In my mind, racism, dehumanization, and treating humans like vermin is not part of the love I am putting out into the world. I feel I have a reasonable and logical basis to support my own beliefs about this. Yet, I am cognizant that, for me, that, too, is a belief, and perhaps I am wrong and am emotionally attached to the term because of my own lived experience which informs how Eris calling the Drifter "Rat" makes me feel.

But art is about how we feel, is it not? That's the point. That's the difference between a human and an algorithm that just regurgitates ideas stolen from others, vomited up in a predigested remix based on what someone types into a prompt.

I write what I feel.

I love the Drifter. I love his ethnicity. I love how he and Eris are written within Destiny. I love writing stories about them loving each other. I love and cherish everyone who reads my words. I want to send more love into the world.

If I have failed, and my attachment to the beautiful use of a term others deem unacceptable taints everything for you, then so be it.

But the love is still there. And to me, it is the love that matters.

Aiat.

[marley-manson]

I'm very fond of Coming Home despite how awkwardly silly it can be at times.

Going with the obvious assumption that the furies voice your own deep-seated desires/insecurities to fuck with you, because that's how things like this work in fiction, Ares' interactions with them are so good. The way fury!Xena mocks him for his vulnerability as a mortal and plays on the fact that he is legitimately, physically scared of her. "You were barely a match for me as a god," as his own fears voiced is such good shit. And he demonstratably was! Ares' only advantage against Xena as a god was his ability to teleport away lol.

Also I love when fury!Xena first walks in and we don't know it's not the real Xena yet, and she starts off perfectly in character but still playing on that insecurity, joking about Ares needing her to rescue him from a fly.

His like, screaming teary breakdowns with the real Xena are also delightful. Love how pathetic he is, love the "You don't bring me flowers anymore," ref, LOVE him calling her mean while she's goading him into killing her. It's such good phrasing, childish but earnest. This ep has me going "aw, Ares" a lot lol.

Bold plot of Xena's, to die for a minute for him, but he did do them a huge solid lol and it's pointed out early on how much they owe him, so I get it. The chakram hitting the furies after she dies, like 5 solid minutes after she threw it was ridiculous but so fun lmao, silently cheered at that.

Loved the Dumb and Dumber ref a little less lol but Ares' "ow" when Xena gives him a pity goodbye kiss was perfect.

In other news, Eve/Varia real, and this is one of the few eps where Eve's characterization is like, good lol, so I appreciate that too. The way she gets caught up in the boasting competition with Varia and brags about destroying an entire village... god I would've loved to see her evil side come out more. Shake off some of that christian brainwashing and find yourself somewhere in the middle, girl.

Also lol I read an interview with the writer (Melissa Good, the ascended x/g bnf) and she mentioned that she didn't deliberately write x/g subtext into her episodes because she was being a team player and didn't want to look like she was catering to her own tastes, but it ended up in them anyway while filming lol. And I do gotta wonder if she played up the Eve/Varia vibes instead. Kudos if so, and if it's another thing that just happened on set, kudos to the actors.

[umemiyan]

Was that overstim and /p i s s/ in the tags 👀 bc if so please continue I'd love to learn more

yes, yes it was!!!!!!! i just think that method of humiliation might be a useful tool when it comes to your little bro haruka 😌 it’s about breaking him down and forcing him to lay a part of himself out for you. he can’t emotionally run away or hide when he’s being laid out bare like that, and even if he struggles with it, it’s almost necessary in a way.

stripping him down to the basic, dirty human version of himself that he always subconsciously thinks is so impossible to accept. but if you accept it, it starts healing a little part of him.

maybe you’re mean about it at first to get your foot in the door. he’s an abrasive individual and will try to stomp out deliberate acts of care and kindness, so you kinda have to match his harsh energy initially.

keep his back pressed to your chest, secured by an arm wrapped around his own even if he wriggles beneath it. your other hand keeps pumping his worn-out cock, wet and sticky from the cum you’ve milked out of it, but he’s still letting you of course, despite being able to break free if he wanted.

he’s a fucking overstimulated mess, caught between pretending like he doesn’t want it and very, very much wanting it, loving it, craving more. you have to use that knowledge to your advantage, saying things like “see? you love getting wrecked like this. your pretty cock adores the attention.”

and when you’ve overstimulated him to the point where his brain hardly works, where he’s still writhing but it’s sloppier and slower in nature, his body can’t tell what’s what anymore. there’s a pressure release again, but this time it’s in a warm, watery stream that splashes against his lap and thighs while he drools and looks down it horror at what you’ve made him do.

haruka’s practically limp at this point, far beyond being able to fight back or do anything but wallow in his humiliation. you say, “did you just fucking piss yourself?” while squishing his face with your hand, both your gazes directed down at the mess. “filthy, filthy boy.”

(but you gotta kiss him really hard afterwards to let him know just how fucking hot it was to watch him make a mess like that 👌🏻)

[t0rturedangel]

lanyon with someone who's from the future and deliberately traveled to past claiming that their gadgets are from magic just to piss him off? afaik in the novel he doesn't support supernaturalism and jekyll's balderdash so the intereaction would be funny lmfao (could be platonic or romantic depends on you)

take care!

-🦋 anon

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 '𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤'

⠀⠀⠀: ᯓ 𝟎𝟎𝟐.⠀ LANYON X READER

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟑. SYNOPSIS, Lanyon just doesn't believe in magic and you're not making it any easier

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟒. WARNINGS, none apart from maybe out of character historically wise.

› 〉 𝟎𝟎𝟓. AUTHOR'S NOTES, I'm happy to do another Jekyll and Hyde request!! :) I may have went overboard.

「 ★ 」 ⠀・At first Lanyon is gonna be very skeptical of you, I mean you're this random person (dressed in some really weird clothes btw) preaching to him about how you're 'magical', it's slightly insulting to him.

⠀「 ★ 」 ⠀・He questions you a lot, mostly the basic ones like "who are you?" and "where did you come from?" and of course, the classic "what do you want from me?" I mean lets be serious it is slightly tiring because he keeps repeating himself.

You sighed, clearly annoyed- Lanyon kept asking you the same damn questions and it was eating away at your brain, who knew someone like this would be so irritating to be around? You sure as hell didnt. "Lanyon, Lanyon- please just stop, I already told you I'm NOT an alien, or some freaky monster that's gonna come after you... jesus" "I don't believe you" you deadpanned, wow- how the actual fuck does this guy have friends "Well then why do you keep asking me these dumb ass questions?" you retorted, leaning back on your chair, blowing a rasberry to the cieling of his room.

"Well pardon me for questioning the person who just broke into my home, you should feel lucky I havent even informed the authorities." his comment made you laugh, did everyone in this time period seriously talked like this? It sounds stupid, like no one from your time line ever speaks like this, no one calls the feds the 'authorities' unless they're older than 60. Your laughing seemed to make him extremely upset, though it wasnt like he could do anything he tried when you arrived: he tried to shoot you out of terror but the moment the bullet came closer to you it disintigrated. "Don't laugh at me." "My deepest apologies my dearest gentleman!"

「 ★ 」 ⠀・Thats pretty much how your 'friendship' started, and from then on you wouldn't leave him alone, always talking about how magical you are and use your devices to annoy Lanyon. Whenever you two are alone he tries to study you to see if you're lying or telling the truth

「 ★ 」 ⠀・Since you're always around him you've got to meet his friends; Utterson and Jekyll, who liked you (but thats only because you didn't act the same as you did to Lanyon). Jekyll esspecially found you interesting but you avoided him- after all you know his secret and dont really wanna get involved with stuff like that PLUSSS you gotta keep Lanyon company.

「 ★ 」 ⠀・speaking of, whenever you're around Lanyon you use a phone, which freaks him tf out because what the hell do you mean you can text people in RUSSIA within seconds? That's impossible.... to him.

"[name]?" you heard the voice of lanyon call out to you, in turn you lifted your head and met his eyes "Yeah?" "What is that?" he pointed to your phone "It's my phone?" ... "what is a phone?"

Yeah you loved explaining a phone to him, watching his eyes buldge out of his skull as you kept talking about the internet and what Wi-fi is. Then everyday, when you two would have a chance to talk you'd show him other devices you owned, to which he'd allways call you a 'witch', whether it was a joke or not you really didn't care.

「 ★ 」 ⠀・When Lanyon found out about Hyde and Jekyll being the same person you were there, making sure to keep him as sane as possible and safe in case Hyde or Jekyll tried anything- after all you and him grew closer over the months you were with him. You did also video everything with a secret camera just incase of anything.

「 ★ 」 ⠀・You expected him to not get as sick as he did originally because you were there and shocked him but unfortunately you couldnt stop it. He was going to end up dying, and in a sad way you blamed yourself; you did force the plot forward.

"[name] I dont need you here okay? I'll be okay, my servants will take care of me" "Bullshit! they don't know anything about medication or taking care of someone" You agrued with Lanyon, staring at him solemly- he was dying and you could tell, you've seen people die like everyday (while you did glorify the future world to Lanyon it was all just you projecting, your timeline is just as bad as the medieval one). "I still have a bunch of stuff I can try to use" You rummaged through your bag after calming down, not daring to look at your friend's sad expression, it would make you emtotional too.

"If nothing can help me from your items, let alone mine, then I'm not worth it... I just still cannot wrap my head around everything." "Then dont, it will only make you worse Lan" You finally had the mental strength to look at him, seeing his pale and tired face made your heart ache, maybe if you never came he's be okay?. no of course he wouldn't be, he'd still die except it would be alone. You just thought that with your arrival and your tech you would be able to at least numb his reaction a bit but I guess seeing a murderer transform into one of your old friends would cause everyone to live in shock, or maybe not. "[Name] listen, promise me, that if I die... which I will, will you keep Utterson company? I fear at the thought of him.... or you being alone after my death"

When did he become so fucking sentimental? with a sad chuckle you responded "I thought you hated me? becuase I'm magical?" "No, I mean, I still find your antics slightly frustating but nothing can be done now. Just please promise me" "okay... fine Lanyon, I promise" ... it took him a while to answer you but he did "Thank you [name], not for just that but for being around me? I suppose your company brought me some sense of joy....." "Thank you too Lan"

「 ★ 」 ⠀・It did break your heart to see Lanyon die, but you had a promise to fufill, and that you did. You kept Utterson company until the day he found about everything too and eventually accepted everything. Even though he gave you chacne to leave him alone you didn't, afterall you had made a promise to Lanyon. What kind of a friend would you be if you didn't keep your promise? a terrible one.

「 ★ 」 ⠀・You justed hoped that Lanyon was at peace.

[qqueenofhades]

people online proudly declare themselves communists and wonder why that's not an effective political strategy and why the dems don't take what they're saying into consideration and it would be funny if it wasn't so disturbing. i don't know what this insistence on certain language comes from but i wish these people would take a step back and look at the bigger picture instead of doubling down.

You know, at some point you've just gotta conclude that they're really fucking stupid, and they like it and don't have any plans to change. You can explain it a thousand times, you can invoke the historical context, you can introduce them to (gasp) non-American perspectives on the world, you can cite hard data about how much of a turn-off this is for the Mushy Middle, you can explain the American political system, you can point out that engaging in a thoroughgoing critique of late-stage capitalism doesn't mean old-school twentieth-century communism is any better, you can make all the reasoned emotional, economic, historical, and political arguments you want.... but if it still does nothing, and they keep doing it, you gotta conclude that they are deliberately stupid and they see their beliefs as a totem to justify their inaction and keep infidels out (i.e. anyone who might challenge them or point out that they are, indeed, weapons-grade morons). So. Yeah.

[sonarryx]

billie eilish – hit me hard and soft (review)

as i mentioned in my chappell roan review, i'm a pop music bitch now. here's the proof.

i bought this album on a whim because my best friend was also buying it. i'd been meaning to give billie eilish a fair shot since i unfairly rejected her in high school for the crime of being really popular, and yeah, it took me until she made a song about having sex with girls to get into her. i won't deny that that's a big part of my motivation. but i'm here now and i gotta say, i picked a fantastic album to start with. this shit rules. i'm giving it the full detailed treatment it deserves.

"skinny" is a perfect opener, effortlessly dissecting several heavy topics at once. the lyric "people say i look happy, just because i got skinny" is a one-hit kill.

"lunch" was the only song i knew from the album going in. it's got a great beat, a seamless journey through a very simple premise, i love it. but it was quickly overshadowed by what's become one of my favorite songs of all time, a perfect storm of the right time and the right listening environment. i have no idea if anyone out there has the level of affection for "chihiro" as i do, but dear god i love this fucking song.

i didn't really crack the code on why it clicked so well with me until the third or fourth listen, which took place in the middle of the day. until that point, i'd been playing the album exclusively after dark, while working closing shifts at my pizza delivery job. those two high points in the song (calling them choruses feels inadequate, the structure of this song doesn't fit into traditional verse-chorus structure at all) hit me like a truck every time, but suddenly in the daylight, it wasn't quite so monumental. coasting through dark streets with little to no traffic to disrupt the flow of the song is an essential element to my enjoyment of the song. darkness helps, driving helps, but both at once add up to an experience you just can't get otherwise.

the way "chihiro" starts out soft and builds up to those high points, the way it transitions between at least five distinct parts, in an unexpected, unconventional but clearly deliberate order—it's all set up so perfectly it makes me want to scream. the section of the song that genius lyrics calls "verse 3" right after the line it calls an interlude, where these fuzzy, airy hi-hats come in, it's like this moment of realization, aligning perfectly with the lyrics "there's a part of me that recognizes you, do you feel it too?" it's like the whole song snaps into focus. then, everything else fades away for the return of that instrumental again (to call it a drop feels like an insult, though it's the closest comparison), this time with the vocals far in the background, nothing else to focus on but this swell of perfect intensity.

listen ok. i love this song. i put it on every night i'm working after dusk. i never want it to end. but there's 9 other songs on this album too, and a lot of them are really good too. all of them, actually. i love every single track on this entire album.

"birds of a feather" is an artfully constructed little tune, clearly intended for the radio play it's rightfully getting. "wildflower" is somber and ominous, with an echoey, lingering ending. "the greatest" is an even more dramatic increase from soft to hard (the title of this album is very literal) than chihiro, more extreme in both directions. the end of this song is the peak in energy of the entire album, and it spends the entire song getting there, stringing you along for over three minutes before the incredible, blissful payoff. it never fails to give me chills.

"l'amour de ma vie" has an elegant melody, and the switch to the second part of the song is unexpected and wonderful. "the diner" is probably my second favorite track on the album. every element is creepy as hell, which is exactly the point. the beat has the slick self-assured obsession of the stalker perspective that billie sings from, and the return of the bass at the end of both choruses is just perfect. "bittersuite" is another song that plays fast and loose with song structure to great effect. it's the perfect penultimate track with a seamless transition between it and the final track, "blue," yet another song that is actually multiple songs in a trenchcoat. there's these pitched-down vocals in the second part that i can't get out of my head.

final thoughts: hit me hard and soft is a fucking masterpiece. nothing feels out of place. the sound is very mature (especially in comparison to her breakout album—holy shit this is such a step up), and many of the tracks feature some impressive experimentation with song structure. it's all so subtle and effortless, and fits together perfectly. there's a clear love for and dedication to the craft exhibited in every element of the production. i love this album more every time i listen to it.

[britcision]

Someone very special to me has not died for another whole entire year so to celebrate… well, I heard this song, and my heart went “DORIAN”

So

Enjoy?

@ekwolfwood 10/10 great job also do not die next year please

Brian Falduto fucking gets me I’d never have found this song again if not for the album name

———————

Hottest Guy Here

Varric and Dorian exchanged knowing looks. They’d been observing… well, some truly disastrous flirting between Lavellan and their own good commander from across the bar.

It had been great. Varric got them a couple bowls of peanuts, there was a free show, Cullen went at least six shades of red once he’d worked out that Lluciano was in fact flirting.

And then the commander had downed his drink, said something neither of them caught, and left.

Lluciano, poor guy, was still sat at the same table, sipping his own drink and occasionally glancing around.

Finally Dorian sighed.

“He still thinks Cullen is coming back, doesn’t he?” He asked rhetorically, already resigned to the answer.

Varric chuckled into his ale and downed it.

“Look at him. Is that a man who knows he’s been walked out on?” He shot back, then set his mug on the table and stood. “C’mon.”

Dorian hesitated a moment longer, looking from his drink to the still happily waiting elf. Lavellan was kicking his legs under the chair now, not a care in the world.

“Oh Maker I didn’t think you’d want to get involved,” he whined, quickly finishing his drink too. Varric gave him a slap on the shoulder that nearly made him drop it.

“Someone’s gotta, or the kid will wait at that table til the sun comes up and Cadash will have all our asses.”

That was inarguable, and Dorian may have still grumbled, but he didn’t delay further. Although apparently he didn’t quite stand fast enough for Varric.

“Besides, he’ll be sadder if no one tells him. D’you really want to leave him to work it out on his own?” The dwarf asked and Dorian heaved another sigh, shoving away from the table.

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point. He’s far too pretty to be left moping.” And quite possibly would wait for Cullen well into the next day.

Eagle eyed as he was to identify plants in the wilds or spot an attack, Lluciano Lavellan was completely fucking oblivious to all else.

Especially the discomfort of a certain blond man in armour who couldn’t handle the addition of pretty young men to his preferences.

Frankly Dorian thought that the sooner he made up his mind the happier they’d all be, since Lluciano adored him. And didn’t seem to have noticed that the friendly flirting he’d apparently always engaged in had begun to mean something rather different to the commander.

Dorian blamed Cadash. Not because he thought the dwarf had anything to do with it, he just liked assigning them the fault for any inconvenience.

It wasn’t like they did anything but enthusiastically agree.

Lluciano greeted them warmly as they approached, just a hint of pink tinting his green veined cheeks. He still looked happy as could be, even if he did glance at the door Cullen had left through.

“Hello! Would you like to join us? Cullen should be back soon, we were just talking,” the elf said brightly, nodding to the other two chairs at the table.

Varric slipped deliberately into Cullen’s, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“I don’t think the commander’s coming back, Petals,” he said softly, under the hubbub. Seemed to notice something on the ground, his brow furrowing.

Lluciano just looked adorably confused.

“What? No, we were having such a good time, he’ll…”

Dorian couldn’t bear it. He threw himself into the seat on the other side of Lavellan, tossing an arm around the skinny elf.

“I’m sorry my dear Inquisitor, but I’m afraid it’s true. Very rude of him not to say goodnight and all that, but the man has fled.” He tried to say it as nicely as possible, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

A little too fresh off the talks with his father, perhaps. His patience for this brand of intolerance was at an all time low.

He regretted it as Lluciano’s face crumbled.

“Did I do something wrong?” The elf asked them both, looking from one to the other in desperate entreaty. It drew Varric’s attention back to him and the dwarf reached out to quickly pat his hand.

“Nothing at all, Petals. Not your fault,” he hurried to reassure their herald.

Dorian huffed, his own grip tightening almost defensively around the man, pulling him back against Dorian’s chest. Lluciano let out the most delightful little squeak.

“The good commander has likely only just heard the scandalous rumours about you and I and finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you are actually showing interest when you flirt with him. How it took this long is a miracle to me,��� he added darkly.

Cheeks now very flushed, Lluciano did his best to turn and face Dorian without actually pulling away.

“Scandalous rumours? About us?” He asked, voice just a little higher than usual.

Dorian should have stopped. Drawn back, apologised, he was fully aware of it. But he’d downed more than half a pint of ale on top of the three he’d already had with Varric trying to forget his father existed.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on Lavellan’s shoulder.

“Oh, you know. I’m the devious Tevinter magister who wormed my way into the Inquisition by seducing the good, pure Herald of Andraste,” he purred, and there was no way he couldn’t have felt the shiver that ran through Lluciano.

Well shit. Maybe the elf had been flirting with Dorian with purpose too. Dorian had hoped, but Lluciano was just so eager to flirt with anyone and everyone.

Not that he was going to think any better of Cullen for possibly not having noticed the same.

Lluciano was speechless for a long moment, but it most certainly didn’t feel like a rejection. Varric disappeared briefly under the table and for a hazy moment Dorian very seriously considered setting the elf on top of it and showing the whole tavern what Cullen was missing.

Then Varric resurfaced, slapping something down onto the middle of the table and startling Lluciano into jumping right out of the mage’s arms.

“Well look what I found!”

Dorian very seriously considered sending some choice spells his way, but those considerations vanished immediately when he saw what Varric had found. A nasty smile tugged at his lips.

“Well, well. Is that the good commander’s coin purse?” He asked innocently.

Lluciano seemed surprised, like he’d forgotten Cullen had been there at all. Well, good for him.

“Oh no, did he leave it? Maybe he will come back after all…” it wasn’t quite the same hopeful tone as before either. Even better.

Varric shook his head expansively, scooping the purse back towards him.

“No, no, this is clearly an apology. He doesn’t want his issues to ruin your night, so he’s left it so he can buy you some more drinks,” he explained with complete certainty.

Lluciano still looked a little sceptical, but Dorian was definitely picking up what the dwarf was putting down. He nodded vehemently, turning and waving to the bar.

“Shots of your best whiskey for the table, on Commander Cullen. Actually, shots for the whole bar!” He decided, to a round of cheers.

Cabot looked a little sceptical, but Dorian caught his eye and gave him a significant look. After all, it wasn’t him who’d be tipping, it was Cullen.

Teach the man to run away from his problems. And besides, he was Skyhold’s military commander. The only reason he paid for anything in the fort was because he was too polite not to.

There was a run on the bar for the free shots, but Cabot made sure that they got theirs first. Cutting through the crowd and swatting hands, he delivered the three smaller glasses and a bottle.

“Gonna take a while to clear that lot. Seems like you gentlemen may need refills.” His usually gruff tones did absolutely nothing to show if he’d caught on, or what he thought of the ruse.

If it even counted as a ruse, since Cullen had left his coin purse himself. They had just found it, and like good friends they would return it to him.

A little lighter than they’d found it, perhaps, but that was the finder’s fee. And a little extra for trying to disappear without a word on a sweet man who hadn’t even done anything differently from their past dozen conversations.

Whatever reluctance Lluciano may have had on finding the purse disappeared in the face of the benefits and he took his shot eagerly with Dorian and Varric.

And since they had their own bottle, the next round didn’t even have to wait. Or the one after that.

The singing started in around the fifth round of shots, which Dorian once again decided to share with the rest of the bar. They did a rousing toast to commander Cullen as the bar once again disappeared behind bodies.

The bard hadn’t quite finished her little ditty to their good commander, but the Inquisition was fast developing its own drinking songs, and once they persuaded her to share what she had

(Cullen’s coin purse once again a factor, in the form of an extra strong bottle of Dalish wine)

They all took turns ad-libbing their own verses. Lluciano’s was rather sweet, for all that it ended in an ode to the good commander’s ass.

Dorian’s follow up was a little less touching, but it wasn’t like he’d had much time to get to know the commander. Other than that he was also an excellent cheat at board games.

Both got cheers though, as did every other attempt to sing the praises of their military leader. The tavern was about half full of soldiers and mercenaries, the usual mix, and common folk who’d either sought refuge or made a pilgrimage to Skyhold.

What lucky souls had made it by tonight would certainly have some tales to tell.

The commander’s generosity was only one aspect of the night, though it was a strong unifier.

The Iron Bull’s Chargers arrived en masse not long after the party really got going (which may well be the first time Dorian had seen proof that they existed outside of the bar), and they had some excellent songs of their own.

Dorian found himself rather taken with Bull’s second in command, a handsome fellow named Krem who dropped by to greet their Inquisitor as a personal friend. Lluciano made the introductions eagerly and suddenly Dorian was surrounded by all manner of sweaty mercenaries.

Entertaining people, though. Fond of sharing stories, extravagant drinking games, and encouraging entirely-too-drunk elves to dance on tables.

Dalish led Lluciano in something that looked like river dance, involving a lot of bouncing and kicking in place. Lluciano wasn’t exactly great at it, but given how drunk he was just not kicking all their drinks off the table was a feat.

Dorian firmly refused to join in, but that didn’t stop the Chargers from sweeping people far and wide into their raucous dancing. Varric joined in enthusiastically enough, although as far as Dorian could see he was doing a different dance entirely.

All in all, it was one of the most enjoyable nights Dorian had had in years. Lluciano was happy, his exuberance shining like a star in the festivities.

Not that Dorian would ever admit that something so small would make warmth glow in his chest, but. It did. And took some of the urgency from the part of his mind plotting dire revenge on Cullen.

Maybe just a stern talking to. A reminder that it was no one’s fault but his own if he got up his own arse. And a much lighter coin purse, which should do the trick.

And, well, now that he knew Lluciano was receptive to his own attentions? Dorian took a moment when most of the Chargers had passed out and the party was finally winding down.

Lluciano wobbled his way to the bar and Dorian followed, giving Cabot a broad wink behind the elf as he tried to order another round of ales.

“Actually, Luci, I was thinking it’s time to turn in for the night,” Dorian purred, leaning up against the bar beside the elf.

Who jumped like he hadn’t known Dorian was there, turned, and pouted with the widest puppy eyes Dorian had ever seen.

“Oh, d’you have t’ go?” Lluciano asked, words running together in a combination of drink and pleading.

Dorian would very much have liked to kiss him, the sweet little man, but he was a gentleman. He would ask first.

“Well, I was rather hoping you’d accompany me,” he offered with his most charming smile. Lluciano blushed cherry red again and clearly forgot every language he’d ever known, mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

Finally he gave up on speech and nodded, slipping his hand through Dorian’s offered arm and tucking himself in close.

Fantastic.

Dorian was quite sure he couldn’t perform at his best, he’d had plenty of drinks of his own, but dammit he had a sweet and willing partner, his father could go to hell, and it wasn’t like either of them would remember the night with all that much clarity.

Waking up in the same bed the next morning could hopefully lead to some fresh encounters all their own, which they’d both remember.

Hell, if Dorian did his best, maybe Lluciano would stop mooning after Cullen entirely, and they’d all be happier for it. Except Cullen, once he worked out what he’d missed.

There had been rumours that at least one of the Heralds had been cavorting on the war room table. Dorian could probably take Luci there loudly enough to make Cullen turn all sorts of interesting colours.

Tonight though, Dorian was going to do his level best to finish off an excellent night with at the very least bloody good sex, Lluciano following him eagerly across the courtyard and back into the main keep.

Stumbling a little, clutching each other for support, they made it up the stairs and into the opulent chambers Dorian had fashioned for himself.

Lluciano threw himself enthusiastically onto the sheets and Dorian didn’t bother hiding his laugh, swaying back without the anchor of the other man’s weight.

Paused when Lluciano didn’t move.

Was he alright? Had he somehow injured himself on a bed? The man was trouble prone enough, Dorian wouldn’t have been stunned.

He was even pretty sure he could identify a healing potion if needed.

Stumbling closer, he prodded with the exaggerated care of the very drunk at Lluciano’s shoulder.

The elf let out a loud snore.

Dorian stared down at him for a while, this information sinking slowly through a haze of drunkenness and half-anticipatory excitement.

Of course.

Of course that was how tonight ended.

Sighing to himself and then dissolving into helpless giggles, Dorian kicked off his boots and threw himself into the bed on the other side of Lluciano.

Who dipped and rolled towards him as the bed sank beneath his weight, but the mood was well and truly broken. Dorian let him tuck himself up close, and just about managed to drag one of the blankets over the both of them.

“‘Rian?” A sleepy mumble came from somewhere under the mess of red hair now pressed to his chest. Dorian pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head.

“Go to sleep,” he told Lluciano, and absolutely did not feel a blossoming fondness in his heart when the elf immediately threw an arm around him, nuzzled closer, and started snoring again.

**

Dorian’s resulting hangover was light enough that he was almost feeling charitable as he approached their good commander’s office.

He certainly hadn’t been pacing himself, but that Skinner woman from the Chargers had told him to balance his wine with water and it seemed to have helped at least a little.

Poor Lluciano was still in Dorian’s bed, whining whenever the sun shone through the crack in the curtains. Later, Dorian would have to see what he remembered.

And maybe take the chance to actually follow through on what they’d missed the night before. Gods, they might even both remember it if they weren’t uproariously drunk before.

All in all, he was in a rather good mood as he sauntered up the stairs, across the battlements, and pushed Cullen’s door open.

Cullen looked up from his paperwork just in time for his coin purse to land on the desk in front of him.

“You were utterly awful to Lavellan last night,” Dorian told him cheerfully, not beating around the bush, “but don’t worry, you’ve already made it up to him.”

Cullen’s brow furrowed, his face freezing half way through what looked rather a lot like guilt. He looked back down at his now notably much lighter coin purse.

“Dorian, what did you-” he began, suspicion beginning to build to something which Dorian frankly didn’t have the time for.

“Well first Varric and I had to inform him that you wouldn’t be coming back, since he’d have waited for you all night long,” he cut the other man off sharply, raising a brow.

Cullen’s mouth snapped shut. And yes, that was definitely a look of contrition.

“And then we made him feel better,” Dorian continued, satisfied that Cullen seemed capable of shame and decidedly smug about it. “You bought drinks for the tavern last night, Commander. Very charitable of you, and I’m sure our new recruits will be feeling right at home.”

He paused for a moment, considering, and then shrugged. Cullen had bought very generous drinks for the tavern last night.

Some of them might have forgotten they’d joined.

“Well, once they can tear their arses from their mattresses, anyway. And then I took Lluciano to bed, since that’s something those of us who aren’t afraid of the woes of being seen with a man can do,” he added nastily, looking down his nose at the commander.

A sudden hot flush bloomed across Cullen’s face and he stared down at the paperwork again, unable to meet Dorian’s eye.

Dorian almost considered letting him finish collecting his thoughts, just to see what he might manage to say. But then, where was the fun in that?

Dorian quite liked to roll by, drop some pointed commentary, and roll on. And he had a rather lovely young elf to get back to.

It wasn’t like Cullen needed to know what had or hadn’t actually happened in Dorian’s bed the previous night.

“And I’m going back to rejoin him, and don’t worry. I’m quite sure he won’t even remember your name by the time I’m through,” he added cattily, swanning out the door again and leaving it open behind him.

He heard it close again when he’d almost reached the door at the other end of the battlements.

Well, good. Let the asshole chew on that for a while. And the next time he wanted to push a sweet young man aside, maybe he’d at least have the balls to say it to his face.

Dorian, meanwhile, had some hangover cures to procure.