#but while exploring some AU thinges I came to conclusion

[s-dei]

The drawing itself is kinda a meme redraw, but honestly - don't get me started on this theme seriously. I will go feral

[hivemuthur]

The Ugly Thing

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! smut, love confessions, D/S dynamics (if you squint or if you know what I'm talking about), pinning, dom!viktor (but also not, if you squint, something something), Viktor-centric, AU college/university + modern era (again, you have to do some squinting for it to be relevant)

word count: 4,9K

summary: Yet another self-indulgent one-shot of Viktor and Reader. It's just an exploration. I want to believe this is erotica, but you tell me. Subspace/Domspace if you squint. Just squint, alright?

Cross-posted on AO3

—

Viktor was, at the very least, difficult. That was what he had called himself, and he relished the label, as it allowed him to be all things at once—sweet, shy, bold, cruel, smart, oblivious, observant. He walked through life making observations and turning his conclusions into actions, placing people exactly where he needed them, ensuring they couldn’t place him somewhere he didn’t want to be.

His relationships were fleeting moments of leniency—sometimes even kindness—offered only when he felt inclined. Occasionally, the kindness transpired twice, or three times, but never more, as the risk of forming a one- or double-sided attachment was undesirable. Viktor’s desires lay elsewhere, and in his pursuits, he indulged the weakness of the flesh while keeping his ultimate goal—recognition of his brilliant mind—crystal clear.

Always polite, so that nothing could hurt him. His armour of politeness and astute behaviour shielded him from the lingering hands that sought to cradle him through the night, from the tender offerings of morning coffee, and from the quiet intimacy of shared silences. Viktor didn’t crave these things. He made sure his politeness was cold, detached, and practised—a skill perfected to keep others at bay. There was no warmth in it, no invitation to linger.

From time to time, he indulged in fleeting encounters, moments where he allowed himself to surrender to the pull of human connection—physical, but never emotional. Emotional, but not lasting. It was a necessary recharge, a way to quiet the body’s demands, but he was always one step ahead. He ensured his partners understood that whatever fragile universe they built together in the night would dissolve with the first light of morning, leaving no trace beyond the cooling embers of his skin.

All that was left was being polite—a polite smile in the hallway, a pencil lent during a lecture, an elevator held for his perishable lover rushing to class. Their names never forgotten, but their warmth never wanted again.

Until you. Until you invaded his orbit and refused to be erased. Until you befriended Jayce, making it easy to keep meeting him, keep looking at him, keep exchanging amusements and something more than politeness—exchanging kindness. Until it turned out you were smart and driven and managed to scare him once or twice by pinning him with your joke.

Until he had slept with you, giving you his mediocre self—not the calculated, observant one, but the needy, touch-starved, pathetic one that moaned your name and groped you with begging hands. All during a completely unorchestrated evening in your dorm room, still half-clothed, just lustful and impatient. Just really fucking hungry in your mutual understanding, though you understood absolutely nothing. Oblivious to the ugly thing in him. Oblivious to the concept of boundaries. Oblivious to the need to protect yourself from prying eyes that might see the truth of what they were.

And the way you stared at him afterwards, gave your body a long stretch, and your limbs flopped back onto the mattress. And the way you said, “It’s ok if you want to go,” an understanding smile cracking across your face—yet you understood absolutely, utterly nothing. A way out he craved, but he wanted to carve it out for himself with his politeness, not with this—this knowing, wise look in your eyes that came from nowhere, because you knew nothing. He almost wanted to stay, just to spite you, but found himself only nodding, scrambling to his feet to fetch his brace and cane, and bidding you goodnight with a polite nod.

And the way you remained friendly. Not friendly—the way you two remained friends. The long nights spent in study groups, pulling straws to determine who was doomed to coffee duty, your head slumped in sleep on Jayce’s shoulder, his head resting on Mel’s. Your bare, cold feet stretched out, toes brushing against Viktor’s thigh, sending ice through his veins—and the way he didn’t mind. The way he contemplated cradling your feet in his palm, warming them against his better judgement.

The way your touch lingered on his arm when you grabbed him in the corridor to show him something funny on your phone. And the way the thing on your phone actually was funny—a picture of Jayce passed out in the library under a mountain of plastic cups balanced on his shoulders. The way his own laugh startled him, made his chest shake and his face lean in close to yours.

The way you would fall asleep in the common room, watching old horror films, your throat vulnerably exposed on his lap. And he just wanted to grab it, squeeze it tight, choke the confession out of you—that you lingered because you wanted more, because this friendship was unthinkable.

The way you got upset when he was mean, and the way he went out of his way to apologise with a childish, shit-eating grin. His arms reaching out for you, your palm pressing his face away in that same friendly gesture.

When he flushed his system with alcohol, all he could think about was fucking you senseless. And when your gaze lingered on him, burning all the way down into his ugly thing, you would ask what was on his mind, and he would say, “Physics.” And you would laugh his lie out.

The way, once, he gave you a lingering kiss on your doorstep and stopped himself. But seeing the question poised on the tip of your tongue, he sunk back in, turning the kiss into a sloppy, drunken mess, so you would be the one to push him away. A gentle pat on the shoulder, sending him off with the unspoken instruction to come back sober. And how he never came back for that.

All of this made him so fucking angry. His carefully mended self, constructed from sweetness, shyness, boldness, cruelty, wisdom, and oblivion, was crumbling under your pensive eyes—and the way you floated atop the pissed-off ocean of his mind.

And oh, he loathed himself on that evening, loathed the way his feet carried him to your room because he was feeling vaguely sad and distracted. He loathed his feet for doing so, loathed his finger for pressing the elevator button, loathed his knuckles for placing a quiet knock on your door. It was all so gross, so out of character, and he loathed it all.

And there you were, opening the door, your face full of dinner, hair messy, cheeks puffed out as you curled them into a closed-mouth grin and gave him a wave to come inside. A quiet “hi,” followed by a chuckle as you tried to swallow before chewing—and a cough when the gulp was too massive for your throat.

“Are you busy?” Viktor found himself blurting out, scanning the room. Your flatmate was gone for the weekend—her bed made, her shoes and coat missing. Observed, concluded. His eyes flicked over to the other bed: messy but cozy, notes scattered across it, a steaming cup on the bedside table, and a laptop propped in the leg area playing background noise. Studying, of course.

“I am always busy,” you grinned at him, your teeth bare and beautiful like the rest of you, as you dropped your dishes into the sink and put the kettle on. “Watching Dexter and studying. Do you want tea?”

“Maybe,” Viktor mused, biting his lip. He negotiated silently with himself, wondering what it was he hoped to find in this room that might sweeten his sour mood—and why his mood was sour in the first place. His hand wobbled on his cane, the traitorous thing, and he leaned against the doorframe to deflect, refusing to decide whether to step fully in or out.

“Okay, what’s gotten into you today?” you huffed, picking a mug you deemed suitable for him. Good Vibes Only, with a middle finger printed on the bottom of it, seemed fitting.

“Meaning?” Viktor cocked an innocent eyebrow, feeling the burn of your inquisitive gaze. Oh, to yank that lovely head by the neck and shove it between his legs, to ease the torment in his mind.

“This is the third time you’ve bothered me today. It’s the weekend. You usually work on the weekends. You’re being vague but resistant to probing. Did something happen?” The countdown of his sins, and it was only the count of one day. Nothing had happened, and that was the issue.

“I suppose I’m feeling… down?” He shrugged, the movement worn down, defeated. His brain ached, and he felt lonely. It had started to feel indecent to pursue others—and for that, you deserved a whack as well.

“Do you need a hug?” A mocking snort reached his ears. A long pause as the scales tipped between a ‘no’ and a ‘yes.’

“Yes.”

Another long pause, as you blinked and scanned him for any signs of a sham, your expression still uncertain. You had to make sure again. “Do you need a hug now?”

“No, in fifteen fucking minutes.” His undignified huff earned him a pair of raised eyebrows from you, and a remark already rolling off your tongue—but he cut it short. “Yes, now. Come here.” His head hung low, and only his hand made a beckoning gesture.

You smiled, disarmed by the black cat of Viktor, finally trying to scramble into your lap after months of teasing and playing around—head bumping and blinking at each other from afar. You walked up to him, your hands hesitant, as if this open display of need was unthinkable.

Before you could settle, Viktor snaked himself around you, his cane propped by the door, his frame bent and draped over you, leaning his body weight forward. It was the grabbiest, the neediest hug he had ever given—or that anyone had let him have. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, smashing his nose against your skin, and inhaled you deeply, through both mouth and nose.

His palms, open and wide, raked as much of your body in one go as they could. They slipped under your clothes, seeking the taut skin stretched across your back and shoulders. He wanted to go lower but could only squeeze.

You weren’t hugging him; he was hugging you. Caging you in his grip, controlling when the hug would end—and as far as he was concerned, not ever. You stilled under his touch, your hands resting obediently on his chest as he rubbed his face on yours, purring like a cat.

“Viktor?” Your voice was barely a whisper, bouncing off his mouth, an inch away from yours. “Would you like me to kiss you?” He sang his swan song in that moment, almost asking permission, granting you the illusion of control, the illusion of choice—when in truth, it was him silently begging for the kiss to happen.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Of course. A deflection. Nothing he wasn’t prepared for.

“I asked you first.” A cruel blow, almost childish. He pulled his face back a few inches to watch you wrestle with the indignity of the situation. The whine you tried to suppress at the loss of contact didn’t go unnoticed, and the snake in Viktor’s belly coiled its head up, smug and poised.

But then you did the thing he didn’t expect—twisting the serpent’s head off and tossing it aside with quiet defiance. You moved closer, nudging his chin with your cheek, your wide eyes pleading for his plea. His resolve shattered instantly.

He held you in place, his lips hovering just above yours. His whisper was longing, desperate. “Can I kiss you?”

A silent ‘yes.’ He only knew it was a ‘yes’ because he felt the movement of your lips on his—but he didn’t let you finish. He sank into your mouth with a disturbing, possessive urgency, pressing his tongue inside, licking your beautiful teeth, biting your beautiful skin.

He kept you locked in, pressing you down under the weight of his kiss. His mouth drooled into yours obscenely as he breathed heavily through his nose. It was the ugliest kiss he had ever given anyone—the ugliest anyone had ever taken from him. And yet, it was taken with such grace, such gratitude, that he wanted to give you everything else.

With inhuman strength, he pulled you both apart and placed his thumb on your lower lip, still glistening with his saliva. He traced it lazily, transfixed by the shimmering reflections on your skin. His heart swelled as he observed the redness blooming around the spots he had bitten. He wanted you bruised by his love—for everyone to see.

“What are you doing tonight?” Another plea, another promise, fell between you. Viktor cursed himself for being so open, so exposed. Because even though you knew nothing, you would understand this question.

“Watching Dexter and studying,” you said in an absent voice, your eyes following his, following the path of his thumb. The silence stretched between you, taut, until you felt the need to fill it. “Do you want to watch Dexter and study with me?”

“No.” The word escaped him in a croak, sung low and jagged, as if he had only just realised this wasn’t what he wanted at all. “Are you wet?” was all he wanted to know.

“What?” The word escaped you, surprised, almost appalled. Viktor braced himself for you to pull away, so he tightened his grip—but you didn’t. You just stared at him with those beautiful eyes on your beautiful face, your pupils dilating at the vulgar perversion of his question.

“I think you heard me. Are you wet right now?” He leaned in to whisper the filth into your ear, feeling his snake grow out a new head at the full-body shudder that went through you.

“What if I said no?” you asked shyly, your eyelashes brushing against his cheek.

“I would demand proof,” he murmured, holding the sides of your face as he poured his poison straight into your ear, his voice so quiet and rude that your eyes fluttered closed.

“What if I said yes?” You found some bravery in yourself, tracing your fingers along Viktor’s neck, just under the line of his hair. You smiled at the feeling of goosebumps rising under your fingertips. He couldn’t have this, of course.

“I would demand proof regardless,” he responded, his lips grazing the shell of your ear before licking it, slow and deliberate. He craned his head back to look at you. You appeared frightened and excited all at once, and if Viktor had no restraint, he would have run his fingers through your hair to soothe you. Instead, he placed a flat palm on your stomach, fingers pointing down, waiting for your permission.

He received a timid nod, but it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words.”

“You can check.” You closed your eyes and exhaled, as though allowing yourself to be judged for your crime. And as the crime was that of lust, Viktor, somewhere deep down, knew he didn’t really need proof, and that your punishment would be light. Because he didn’t truly want to punish you. He wanted to love you in an ugly way.

He slid his hand down, down beyond the waistband of your pants, down your lower belly straight to your womb, palming your cunt through the underwear and gasped, “Oh lásko, look at you.” His chest fluttered at the first touch, with joy and accomplishment, but also because he was right, when he slid the fabric to the side and ran his finger through your slit. Warmth dripped onto his fingertips, and he felt himself grow hard beneath the restraint of his own clothes.

“Do you really like me this much?” he cooed, so pleased that just one ugly kiss had managed to drench your knickers and make you feel so ashamed you nearly flinched away.

“Viktor—” You looked at the floor, your brows furrowed, your face burning from being so exposed, so naked. And you looked so, so beautiful.

“I am not mocking you,” he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on your cheek and caressing it gently. It was almost a praise, though he dared not say it yet. “What makes you want a cripple so much? Is it your heart that longs for me, your mind that thinks you can change me, or just your body?” he mused, revealing too much merely by asking.

You looked almost offended by how blunt he was about knowing what you wanted, just not knowing why. His fingers now parting you, playing at your entrance, teased you but you wouldn’t flinch. You just searched his face hesitantly and as Viktor grew tired of waiting, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them, mercilessly bumping your wall, forcing you to flinch. He really wanted to see your eyes roll back into your skull, and he really wanted to hear his name distorted by a breathy moan.

“Which… would be the worst?” Your breath fanned his face as you steadied yourself on his shoulders. Truly, you weren’t ready for any of the options to be soured.

Viktor thought for a moment, his fingers slowly retreating, almost absent-mindedly. When his answer was found, he pushed back in, smiling innocently, his face moving close to yours. “The first. The second,” he mused, another slow, unbearably so, thrust. “I could fuck out of you. The third, well…” A gentle kiss on your lips, almost loving. “I see no fault in the third.”

“Of course, you don’t,” you scoffed, your grip on his shoulders tightening with each minute. “And what brings you back to me over, and ah,” a gasp escaped your mouth when Viktor brushed his thumb over your clit. You closed your eyes and evened your breath. “Back to me. Heart, mind or… body?” you asked, your brow furrowed in concentration against Viktor’s efforts to throw you off course.

“Which would be the worst?” He quirked his lips against yours and chuckled at another concentrated huff. He could feel your unrelenting grip on his shoulders, was convinced that it would leave a mark, and it made his cock twitch in his pants. To be marked by this gentle creature, a dream.

“Any of them, without the others,” you quipped, your eyes shut. Viktor’s movements stilled at that. You had managed to surprise him. Again. Of course, you would want to devour him as much as he wanted to devour you. Eat you whole, spit out the bones and build a shrine out of them. Ugly.

He retreated his hand and chuckled at the muffled whine that followed. He licked his fingers clean once your eyelids fluttered open, making sure you were watching. Rude. But he was going to kiss you with this mouth.

His hands snaked back up your spine, your body pliant against his, providing him with warmth. His teeth and lips got back to work on the swell of yours, and you fell right into it, mouth open, when his tongue pushed itself down your throat as Viktor began his meal. “I will die if I don’t fuck you,” he rasped. So fucking dramatic over nothing, over just a kiss and some unfinished fingering, and a clipped conversation about what he wanted.

He could abandon it here. He could walk out; he could sit on your bed and just study and watch Dexter. He could drink his tea, already cold, he could make you blush all evening, bid you goodbye and go back to his grimy room to jerk off and fuck off. But he couldn’t stop.

“Please, I’ll be so good to you,” he prayed to you, your hands so warm on his waist as he kissed you till he was out of breath. “You don’t know what you are doing to me.” Pathetic, moronic wail escaped him. And he knew you only grew wetter and wetter, your lips getting hotter on him. Panting, you pulled him by the belt and walked the two of you over to the bed, leaving Viktor with no other support than yourself.

He had never rid himself of his clothes so fast. Everything he had on, tossed and crumpled by the bed, next to your own little pile. All the layers of the second, the third skin abandoned, his brace, his pants, his boxers, embarrassingly soaked with sweat and precum, when he crawled on top of you just to keep kissing you and biting your neck, leaving nasty marks everywhere. He panted, his own breath betraying him as your skin came in contact and Viktor whined simply at his cock rubbing against your thigh and he wanted more.

“If you want to stop, tell me.” Another raspy, absolutely dishonest, but a proper plea, asking for the complete opposite. Please, never ask me to stop. “Do you understand?” You nodded, again—not good enough. Your eyes so wide, he could barely see the colour. When you were splayed flat below him, he could see your heart twitching, your chest contracting. A minuscule movement, but he could see it.

“Words, I need to hear your words, lásko,” he growled, stunned by his own impatience.

“I understand.” A kindness in your voice enveloped him. He slid you down the mattress by the ankles, his cock rested against your slit. With clumsy hands he put on a condom, stole a pillow from under your head to support his bum leg and adjusted his crooked crouch. You had the audacity to chuckle at the commonality of his movements and he bit your calf in response.

Absolutely unhinged, you hooked your foot behind his neck, and he immediately loved the weight that pulled him down, steadied him, as he teased your entrance. You held a breath; he had forsaken the privilege of air long time ago.

The first thrust was just blissful. He could feel the crease on his forehead relaxing, his mouth opening, his jaw hanging heavily, just joy and warmth, him awash in it. He felt so full, so complete, yet it was you who was full of him as your bodies slotted together easily, differently to the last time, which left him feeling awkward and ashamed and unfinished.

You rested your hands on his hips, gripping the sharp angle of his bones, your fingernails leaving crescent marks that he would run his fingers over in the morning. “You are doing so well,” he whispered in awe, and it was honest, and you loved it, he felt it in his cock getting squeezed in a silent gratitude.

He felt his ugliness leaving him with each pump of his hips, each sloppy sound of your bodies bumping against each other, his cock twitching inside you, and he needed one more thing to make this even less ugly.

He brushed his thumb over your clit, stretching it, teasing you and taking in all your huffs and puffs, your contorting stomach muscles, your tightening walls. A longing look and an echoing question followed. “Do you love me?”

“Viktor, don’t be cruel,” you answered so fast, he almost retreated. How could you think so? A childlike curiosity creeped onto his face.

“I am not. I really ought to know. Just say yes or no,” Please, just say yes. He felt you twitch at the question, and it made him think he was right. But he could have also been completely deranged. Brain burnt by lust and all the ugly things.

“Viktor—” you pleaded at the loss of his thumb on you.

“I can feel you. Yes or no?” A hard thrust, right up your guts. You yelped, and he could see the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and the sight was something to behold, keep in the palace of his mind forever.

“Then, why are you asking?” You were ready for filth. For his erotic weirdness, for his awkwardness, for all the want he would suppress every time you interacted. You felt it all in his fleeting touch, in the warmth of his thigh when your naked toes rested against it idly, unintentionally, though very intentionally. But this was how you coax a cat. And this was not how cats responded.

“You will see,” he promised, more to himself. “Do you love me, now, in this moment, when I’m fucking you? Yes or no?” Another twitch of your cunt at ‘love’. He left himself unguarded, shielded only by the mould of your womb.

“Yes.” A tiny, shy ‘yes’. But it fell right into Viktor’s heart and there it grew into a big promise, and he would keep it and take care of it and cherish it.

His body bent in half, his mouth seeking yours. A sloppy kiss, painful, with teeth at your tender lip. Another, earnest, slow and careful. Another, quick and fleeting, before he found your ear. Between them, “I love you,” whispered back like a secret, like a prize for your struggle.

Your breaths grew frantic, you wanted to keep him close. You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging him in, so you could lick the sweat from his neck, bite it and claim it. Your leg slipped onto his hip, and you curled it around him, his bone digging into your thigh.

“Do you see? How it feels?” he rasped into your ear, gripping you tight. “To be loved while being fucked? Tell me how it feels.” Viktor moaned with each of his thrusts, holding back getting harder and harder. His cock getting more swollen. Your walls getting tighter.

“Amazing,” you whispered, pulling his mouth back to yours. “I love you.”

Viktor’s eyes rolled back into his skull. He slumped onto you, his hands snaking behind your waist, and he could feel your sweat merging with his as your chests pressed together. “I love you,” he cooed weakly. “You can come now, lásko.”

He felt your thighs clutch on his hips, a long spasm twisting your spine underneath him. You came with an orgasm wrenching breath out of your lungs, leg bending, blinding. The ‘I love you’ falling from your lips over and over again, and Viktor could finally let go and spill all his ugliness out. He came with a loud moan seconds after, his brain fucked out, his heart swollen, as he came loved for what he was.

He held you tight through it, chests heaving, when he felt a quiver and wetness on his cheek. “Are you hurt?” he whispered.

You sobbed onto his chest, hands caged in his arms as you tried to release them and wipe the tears away. “No, no,” you shook your head. “What is this… feeling?” It had no name. For Viktor, it was a dumbing bliss. He could cry too if he wasn’t so warm.

“How do you feel?” He wanted to know what it was like on the other side. No one ever told him, no one ever shared this with him.

“Hollow. Ah… fuck. Empty,” you struggled to find the words, trying them out on your tongue, but they felt wrong. “I feel like you took something… bad from me. And now I don’t know what to do with the space left—” you gasped between sobs as Viktor rolled you to the side and pulled your hair to expose your neck.

You buried your face in the curve of his shoulder. Tears fell on their own, and Viktor wanted to drink them and cry them out himself. When the sobs transformed into clipped breaths, and clipped breaths transformed into one long exhale, you asked carefully, “Viktor, you don’t really love me, do you?”

“Well, do you really love me?” His chest was swollen, his head heavy. He was triumphant. He was so invincible he had it in him to love you.

Silence, for a while. Viktor nudged you gently with his chin and whispered a soft command, “Go to the bathroom, I’ll be here.”

You looked at him, the practicality of it spreading a strange warmth in your belly. Wordlessly, you got up and disappeared, still naked as day, and Viktor watched your feet shuffle in the creak of the bathroom door. He got up, put on his underwear, and drank his cold tea in one go.

When you got out, a relief glimpsed through your face, as if you were expecting him to be gone. He waited for you with a cup of tea and a clean sweatshirt, beckoning you to slide into it. Once you both had a singular piece of clothing on, he pulled you back into bed and cuddled sweetly into you. “How do you feel now?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair.

“I feel… like I really need you to love me right now,” you let it slide out. Even though your sweatshirt shielded you from the chill of the room, your soul was still completely bare and shivering. And Viktor loved this nudity, the weirdness of it, the feeling of belonging it gave him.

He found that is was his hands that were lingering now, that the tender thought of the morning coffee was no longer distorted by fear, the quiet and the silence became comfortable in a good way. He felt so wanted, so beautiful in your eyes. He felt all the right things and none of the wrong things. His ugly snake was skinned and turned into a beautiful object. In this beautiful space only beautiful words seemed fitting. “I really do love you right now.”

[hulloitsdani]

In today's episode of cleaning out the wip backlog, we got an attempt to reimagine the Alfonse brave alt that got totally derailed by the Elden Ring DLC soundtrack! I have been chipping away at this for MONTHS now, and will probably continue to do so, but I think it's at a stage where I am willing to share it.

But uh, to say that I only drew this would be a big fat lie. So if you would be so kind, come with a journey under the cut as I show you some of the methods to my madness.

With me? Awesome. Let's get a little weird.

So I initially intended this to be a one and done drawing. Similar to the outfit prompts. I had an idea and only intended to make one illustration of it. Since it was on the brain at the time, I wanted to reference the Miquella and Radahn shot from Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree. That resulted in this sketch:

Fun! I had a good time with this one.

So during the time of Alfonse's Brave alt release, there was conversation about how, despite how pretty the art was, it was not quite fitting for Alfonse's character. And I was inclined to agree. Alfonse had a loaded relationship with his dad, and giving him an alt that was strictly him in his outfit didn't work in the same way it did for a character like Ike. So I was playing with how to solve for that here, went through a few options that aren't visible anymore, and came to the conclusion to keep the silhouette but change the details. Alfonse, a not very tall or buff guy, didn't really look right in Gustav's chest plate. So I threw on the dragon scales back on and things started falling into place. Neat!

Problem: I didn't really want to be working on this sketch anymore. Happens. Sometimes you reach the maximum amount of fun you're going to have with a piece and it's healthier to just leave it where it is. But I was still having fun with the idea of a Miquella and Radahn power dynamic with Kiran and Alfonse. Maybe not as fundamentally and delightfully fucked, but running with the idea of how bad it might be for everyone involved if Kiran was able to put their friends under contract.

So here is when I opened up a new file and started brainstorming.

So is the premise for this au(?). I guess this is an au! Cool! Idk I was just having a little bit of fun. This is also as clean as these sketches are gonna get. If messy doodles and thumbnails are your thing, you've come to the right place.

So something I wanted to explore right away was how, unlike Miquella and Radahn, both parties are still somewhat mentally present in this new state they're in. It gets a little weird, as Kiran is in Alfonse's head so often that it starts to become unclear where one starts and the other ends. But they're in this predicament because their loneliness issues got the better of them. Overriding the other's thoughts and presence would defeat the point. So they'll have moments where you can see them... separate, for lack of a better way of putting it. Where Kiran will pop up from their apparent malaise and check if Alfonse is (physically) alright.

Next up is spectral arm time. I imagine that Kiran has a jack pot of different powerful abilities, but they're not a fan of using them. Got this visual in my head of them summoning these hands to cover more weapon types, but doing so makes them physically recoil. The force of it tries to push them away, but it can't, so they come back to rest, more winded than before.

These marketable plushies are often bought together please do not separate!!! Idea here being that if enough damage is dealt to Alfonse to knock him down, Kiran will get PISSED, grab the axe, and go nuts. A little spooky considering that it wasn't clear that they could leave Alfonse's side up until that point. Is definitely the most emotion we've seen on them so far too. But while in their frenzy, Alfonse, upon realizing the god on his shoulder is gone, will grab the bonds connecting them and pull them back. Very desperate moves from the both of them. Rational thought has left the building.

Last but not least, hey this looks familiar! Found the sketch for initial illustration. Neat! Genuinely forgot that I initially sketched it here, and then copied it elsewhere to make a full illustration. But that's her!!! That's the bones!!! Kinda crazy looking at it now considering how long I've been tinkering with this one.

Also I couldn't fit this anywhere, but before I forget, Kiran can't really see? They're having an Everything Everywhere All At Once moment where, if not grounding themself via Alfonse, they will be blinded by the infinite amount of everything their divine domain now ties them to. So they look out of it a lot of the time because... well they are. Alfonse is seeing for the both of them.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! This was rotating this in my head for a while and I'm glad to have it finally out there :D

[raw-lesbian-energy]

Attention

Summary: Seraph is busy with work, but V wants her attention.

Fandom: Murder Drones (The Explorer Drone AU)

Pairing: Sera-V

Features: Self-Insert Character

Word Count: 2,212

Warnings: This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, just keep scrolling.

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It was a quiet night in Seraph’s housing unit, the explorer drone seated at her desk with her tablet and a stack of papers. She was once again grading student assignments, carefully scanning over each art piece before filling out the digital rubric and moving on.

It was tedious and time-consuming work, but it was something Seraph had grown accustomed to. Plus, she was able to find some joy in it when she noticed one of the students listening to her suggestions and making improvements. Of course, there were still some who refused to properly try, happy to skim through with barely passing grades just to be able to graduate.

A grimace found its’ way to her face as Seraph marked off Darren’s assignment, filling out his rubric before a low groan reached her audio receptors. Her gaze flicked to the ceiling, figuring one of the pipes was settling until her bedroom’s vent grate swung open and a figure dropped in. Seraph snapped up as the sudden visitor landed elegantly on her bed, hardly making a sound as she sat down and kicked her legs over the side.

“Hey, Seraph~” She said, grinning widely. Seraph’s expression quickly turned annoyed.

“V, I told you not to just show up through the vents.” She scolded. “What if I had someone else in here?”

“Free food, I guess.” V replied, still grinning. Seraph annoyed look only deepened, but she simply sighed and leaned one arm against the back of her chair.

“What are you even doing here?” She asked. V merely shrugged.

“Got bored.” She answered bluntly. “N’s asleep, so I’ve got time.” Seraph’s expression changed slightly, seeming less annoyed before turning her attention back to the papers in front of her.

“Well, unfortunately, I’m currently grading papers.” She told her. “So you’ll have to wait until I’m done.” V’s grin faded immediately, and she flopped onto her side on Seraph’s bed.

“Oh come on,” she groaned, “grading papers is boring! Come have fun with me!” Seraph’s processors halted momentarily as a few ideas for ‘fun’ slipped through them, but she shook her head.

“Sorry V, this can’t wait.” She said firmly. “I need to have these all graded by tomorrow.” V’s tail flicked in irritation, a loud sigh escaping her as she rolled onto her back.

“Seriously?” She complained. “It’s Just a bunch of papers! Who cares?”

“The school board.” Seraph replied, not even glancing at her. “And I have to, if I want to keep my job.”

“Well, if I cared about my job, you’d be an oil splatter on the wall right now.” V countered, turning her head and grinning wickedly. Seraph stopped her movements momentarily, the image flashing across her internal screen before she spoke.

“Touché.” She admitted, a sigh following. “Look, I’m about two-thirds done, I just need twenty minutes and then we can do whatever you want.” V perked up slightly at the offer, rolling fully onto her side as her eyes remained focused on the explorer drone. One minute passed, then two, and soon V came to the conclusion that twenty minutes was still too long to wait.

“This is boring.” She whined. Seraph didn’t even look up.

“Then go find something to do.” She said in a deadpan tone. V pouted once more before jumping off of Seraph’s bed, moving right up to the brunette’s side.

“But I want to do something with you!” She grinned, trying to convince her. “Come on, you know you hate this stuff. The stupid school board doesn’t have to know!”

“V, seriously-YEE!” Seraph’s annoyed tone turned to a surprised squeak as V had tried to grab her arm, the murder drone’s fingers accidentally grazing her ribs. The reaction caused V’s eyes to widen, while an embarrassed blush started to form on Seraph’s visor. This stirred a memory in V’s processors, soon realizing what was going on and turning her confused expression into a wicked grin.

“Seraph~” The teasing tone in V’s voice was more than enough and Seraph shoved off her desk, launching herself clean across the room. V grinned excitedly and dove after her, barely missing the explorer drone as she leapt from her chair and rushed out the door.

“Get back here!” V shouted, her hunting programs kicking in as she gave chase. Seraph didn’t even look back as she ran into the main room, sliding under the dining table in a quick attempt to hide. A few seconds passed before claws reached around the underside of the table, earning a startled gasp and sending Seraph rushing out from the other side. V had been hoping for this, however, her tail rushing down and wrapping around Seraph’s ankle before she could get away.

“WH-oomph!” Seraph hit the ground as she was tripped, barely managing to roll over before V pounced on her. Her visor held that iconic ‘X’ before switching back to her usual eyes, but her sinister grin remained.

“Nice try~” She purred as she straddled Seraph’s hips. “I appreciate the little hunt, though~” Seraph opened her mouth to protest, but quickly snapped shut as the tips of V’s claws gently glided down her side. The action sent a rush of tingles through her nerve system, her body twitching as she clamped her hands over her mouth.

“Oh no, you’re not holding out on me~” V spoke as her tail unwound from Seraph’s ankle, her claws changing back to her normal hands and snagging the brunette’s wrists. Seraph tried to hold her arms in place, but V was much stronger and easily pulled them over her head, securing them with her tail so she couldn’t pull them down again.

“V, c-come on!” Seraph managed, a small blush tinting the edges of her visor. “I still have-EEP!” She quickly snapped her mouth shut as V gently wiggled her fingers over her stomach, causing her to squirm.

“Ooh, does someone have a ticklish belly?~” V cooed. “Come on, you’re only making this worse for yourself~ I’ll find the spot that breaks you one way or another~” Her tone caused Seraph’s blush to increase, her eyes shutting as she clenched her jaw to hold back her giggles. Her feet kicked and pushed against the floor, trying to worm her way out from under V, but she didn’t have the strength with the tickling distracting her.

V wasn’t making it easy, either. She moved from Seraph’s stomach to her sides, swirling her fingers in a way that made the explorer drone squeak and thrash. She bit her lip to try and hold her laughter back, but a wobbly smile stretched across her face as she was already starting to near her breaking point.

“Aww, are you gonna laugh?~” V continued teasing as she crept her hands up to Seraph’s ribs. “I just know you’re about to break~ Maybe I should try right… here!~” In a flash, she started spidering her fingers up and down her ribs, catching Seraph by surprise and causing her to squeal. The tickling quickly spread through her nerve system and she started laughing, tossing her head back and kicking her feet against the floor.

“Nooohohoho-haha!” She cried. “V-hehehee!” The murder drone’s grin stretched wide across her face in triumph, her fingers continuing to dance over Seraph’s ribs and earning more laughter.

“There you go!~” She said in a teasingly sweet voice. “Aww, look at you~ You’re just a giggly mess, all from a little tickling~” Seraph’s laughter shot up in pitch in response, a steady line of blush covering the bottom half of her visor.

“Don’t tehehease! Hahaha!” She squealed, trying to hide her face in her arm. “I stihihill have-haha! H-Hahahave wohork to dohoho!” Her pleas were unsurprisingly ignored, as V kept tickling up and down her ribs to find which spots were more sensitive.

“Nope, no work.” She replied simply. “You chose work over me, so now you face the consequences~” She slipped one hand closer to Seraph’s shoulder joint, her fingers grazing under it and earning a loud shriek of laughter.

“NOHOHahAha nahat thehehere!” Seraph howled, her laughter turning into cackling. V took note of the almost psychotic sound that her laugh held, finding it rather endearing and wanting to hear more.

“Not where?~” She replied, acting oblivious. “You mean here?~” She moved both hands up and started tickling under Seraph’s shoulder joints, earning more hysterical cackles. The explorer drone was slamming her feet against the floor at this point, tossing her head from side to side as the tickling overwhelmed her nerve system.

“V-HEHEHAHAHAA!” Seraph’s laughter echoed throughout the unit, her visor glowing from her blush and a wide grin spread across her face. V wound up staring at her for a moment, a faint blush dusting her own visor before she collected herself and chuckled.

“Seems I’ll have to keep a memory file on this spot~” She mused, continuing to trace and tickle under her shoulder joint. “Especially if it allows me to hear your adorable laugh~” Much to her surprise, Seraph shook her head even faster in disagreement.

“IHIHIT’S NAHAHAAT!” She managed, causing V’s eyes to widen. A spark of challenge went off in her processors, and she pressed her fingers a bit harder against the sensitive spot.

“Are you really trying to argue with me right now?” She questioned. “Maybe I’ll just have to keep tickling you until you admit your laugh is cute~” She didn’t give Seraph a chance to respond as she sped up her movements, skittering under her shoulder joints and over her ribs in a full-on tickle attack. A loud shriek escaped Seraph’s voice box as a result, soon dissolving into frantic cackling and thrashing.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHA V-HEHEHEE!!” She could hardly speak from how hard she was laughing, her visor practically glowing from her blush. V could feel her trying to pull her arms out from her tail’s grip, prompting her to tighten her hold just a bit more.

“All you have to do is admit it and I’ll let you go~” V practically singsonged as she kept tickling, keeping note of which spots got stronger reactions and focusing on them. Despite how hard she was laughing, Seraph seemed determined to hold out, not wanting to give in and tell V what she wanted to hear. It was clear her nerve system was getting overstimulated though, as her visor briefly flashed with a warning symbol that prompted V to slow down.

“Wow, you’d rather face overstimulation than admit it?” She said, both impressed and concerned. Her hands remained still over Seraph’s ribs, but the explorer drone was still able to calm down and catch her breath.

“My… m-my laugh is not adorable.” She managed, panting. “A-And you started this! I was just trying to do my work, but you pulled me away from it!” V’s expression quickly turned to a pout.

“Oh come on, you and I both know this is more fun than work!” She argued. Seraph opened her mouth to protest, but her voice box failed and she blushed again. She shut her mouth and turned her gaze to the side, the silent action telling V all she needed to know.

“See? You agree with me.” She said, a smug grin crossing her face. Seraph’s blush worsened further, but she let out a small sigh and looked back up at V.

“Okay, yeah, I do.” She admitted. “But I still have work to finish, V.” The murder drone gained a look of annoyance, clearly not happy with Seraph’s response. The brunette felt the hands on her ribs twitch slightly, and she realized she had to act fast.

“Look, I’ll be as quick as I can!” She tried. “And once it’s done, I can give you all the attention you want! Promise!” V’s hands remained still again, and she quirked an eyebrow while scanning Seraph’s face.

“You promise?” She pushed. Seraph quickly nodded, a slightly nervous expression crossing her features before she felt V’s tail loosen. Her arms were soon freed, and V slid off of her to allow the explorer drone to get back to her feet.

“Fine, but you better be quick.” V told her, standing up. Seraph got up off the floor and gave her a thankful smile.

“I will.” She assured her. “I’ll be no more than fifteen minutes.” V still held an annoyed expression, but she nodded once, reluctantly agreeing. Seraph felt a wave of relief at this, her smile growing.

“Oh, I’m locking the door though.”

By the time V processed what Seraph had said, the explorer had already rushed back into her room, the door shutting behind her. V ran up and tried to pry it open, but it held firm, proving she’d been too late.

“Seraph!” She shouted, hearing the brunette’s laughter on the other side. She let out a growl before folding her arms, glaring through the small window on the steel door.

“If you’re not out in fifteen minutes, I’m coming back through the vents!” She warned. Seraph only giggled in response, but she knew better than to test V and quickly got back to work. She pulled up the next assignment and got to grading, one thought hanging at the back of her processors as she did.

She definitely hoped V would want attention more often.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

Thank you Michelle and @bonheur-cafe for asking! ❤️

Rhythms - I'm only two chapters into posting but the whole thing is written and I do think (alongside Where All This Love Comes From), it contains some of my best writing. It's the story about how Carlos came to write his wedding vows to TK, how he used to write poetry as a closeted teen and the adventures that accidentally ensued, and how he might pursue poetry again with TK's belief in him...

Where All This Love Comes From - The most ambitious I've been with a fic. Lots of flashbacks from TK and Carlos' relationship and pre-canon, as well as 'current day' scenes to handle. I wanted to combine exploring TK's addiction with Carlos' own trauma, while staying as close to canon as possible, and it all came together as I hoped.

Fire Island - TK and Carlos go to Fire Island, where they are befriended by an older gay couple who tell them about life at the height of the AIDS crisis in 1980s NYC. I'll never forget reading this out loud to my boyfriend and both of us crying, and the feedback in which people shared their own memories of how AIDS touched their lives. It's my most meaningful fic on a whole other level. TK and Carlos do not die or get sick in this fic - I know some people were worried about that because I got anons about it, but to reassure, it does not happen.

When Soulmates Swim - An  alternative first meeting AU. TK and Carlos' relationship blooms in many pools as they both heal from workplace injuries. It's smutty, fluffy, angsty and silly. It was such a fun one to write and I desperately want to write a sequel. I have an idea! I just need the time!

Suddenly, In the Silence - This fic was a challenge because I needed to write a satisfying conclusion but also ambiguity, designed so readers decide if they think something happens or not. Based on comments, I think I pulled it off! Also, this was the first fic I wrote after finishing Where All This Love Comes From. I was panicking that I'd never write again because I was spent. So, very grateful to this fic for arriving in my brain when it did! Which was really thanks to a conversation with @thisbuildinghasfeelings - in turn showing how helpful and inspiring this community can be.

[king-crawler]

Recently when I tried to figure out why Turbo went, well Turbo I realized something. At first I came to the conclusion that it was because of his code, but then I remembered the plot of the movie and completely scrapped it (though there might still be some merit with it). Then i thought that “hey, this fucker has been surrounded by picters of himself since he was plugged in, hes the star of the show, so of course he would get a huge ego out of it, said ego also being his subsequent down fall, but why diden't Felix also fall in the same trap? he was the hero of his game too”. And I think it's because he wasn't alone. Now I'm not gonna overshadow the twins. They're there too but considering how Turbo treated them in the little screen time we got to see them together I doubt that they were on good terms, they might have been in the games early days but I digress.

Felix, unlike Turbo, had friends within his game, a small community to look out for him just as he does for them. They made him pies, dedicated parties to him, cherished him, but Turbo?. Who was gonna bake him pies? Who was gonna throw parties for him? Who was gonna cherish him? The Twins? FUCK no. And i think that's what tipped him over the edge, his ego made him push oway his friends and coworkers just to get a sliver of stardom. And when he had all the attention ripped oway from him by another racing game had to have been his last straw (you saw the face he pulled in the flashback. God, just imagine seeing one of your neighbors destroy their own career live, in broad daylight too, must have been horrifying). I love a good character that just dooms themselves to the narrative with their own actions (Turbo was a whore for the limelight).

Going a bit of topic here but “going Turbo” wouldn't work if it was any other main character in the movie, “going Ralph” just doesn't work. Could be because “Turbo” isn't really a name, it's a word, the name of his game, “Turbo Time”. So my proposal is that whenever there is an au where say, Calhoun game jumps (for whatever reason) they call it solo mission. “You're not going on a solo mission are you?” sounds more riveting, to me, and in character for Calhoun. Perhaps that was the last thing she said to her men before she left. For Vanellope id imagen something like “going on a sugar rush” and something about crashing. Because when the sugar rush ends you typically crash.

And that gave me another thought, how many “Turbos” are there out there? How many characters went outside their game or against their script on working hours. How many of these incidents were considered bugs or glitches (how many were turned into creepypastas). It feels like a huge liability risk and the only instances of us hearing about it is with Turbo, which I find strange. Is it like a silent rule? That no one is allowed to leave their game and that's it? That's a super thin line, like yeah you can argue that its there to keep them alive but who told them that? And the second movie doesn't help that, it's just, eurghhh, i don't like the second movieeeee… But it does give the homeless game characters a chance to find a potential new home. There's so much out there in the wilde wilde internet to explore and find new potential in, to not be tied to the arcade has to be a bit liberating for some :)

Sorry for the sudden rant, I just got a kick and could not not write this down.

DONT BE SORRY !! GO OFF!!!! THESE ARE REALLY COOL DISCUSSION POINTS

The whole turbo vs Felix thing really stuck out to me. Turbo Living in a game with only 2 other people who hate him ? While Felix gets praise and attention from dozens? No wonder Turbo went haywire 👀 like do you think he envied Felix ………

[kitsunefaux]

All Ships Week - Final Day

Thank you all for checking out my little ficlets this week! It saddens my heart to bring an end this AU, but here's 1k words to wrap things up. It's definitely a candidate for further exploration when I have one less fic on my plate. Enjoy!

Fandoms: Yu-Gi-Oh, A:TLA

Ships: Gemshipping + another one

Prompt: Free Day, anything goes

Parts: 1, 2, 3

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Arms encircled Ryou like the coils of a constricting snake, more a cage than an embrace. Warnings flashed through his mind, one after the other, all the times he’d been scolded for venturing too deep into the undergrowth. Didn’t he know what manner of creature lurked within the shadows of the forest?

Yes, and that was the point, he had thought in those moments. Now… Well, it was too late for regrets.

Rain drizzled, lessening its flow, though Ryou's clothes had soaked through, clinging to his thin frame. Bony fingers sifted through his hair as the cozy warmth of the creature’s presence encompassed him. Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions. The spirit had yet to do him harm.

Perhaps he was deluding himself. The grip around him tightened at his slightest attempt to wriggle free.

“I have a solution to your distress, Ryou. A way to dissolve your undesired betrothal,” the spirit said, his voice smooth and low. A hand caressed Ryou’s cheek as dazzling red eyes captured his gaze. “Marry me instead.”

Ryou choked, his face flushing with heat. “I-I, um… I don’t think…” He clapped a hand over his mouth to silence himself while he waited out the shock. He couldn’t afford to misspeak and cause some unknown disrespect. Clever words would serve him much better than a gut reaction. “May I know what manner of creature wishes to court my hand?”

Bakura tipped his head, and white hair swayed. “Can you not tell?”

Dammit, of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Ryou swallowed, running back over the information available to him. A shapeshifter, but Bakura hadn’t used his form to try and lure him to his death. It had been a trick, more mischievous than malicious, a way to get Ryou into his arms where Bakura seemed content to simply hold him.

Considering the fire that seemed to dwell within him, Ryou had an answer, but this creature came in two flavours.

“You mistake my meaning,” Ryou said, coaxing a hesitant smile to his face. “I wish to know whether my suitor is a good fox or a bad fox.” Zenko or yako, the two breeds of kitsune. The distinction wasn’t really moral, more to do with the way they treated—

Fingers pinched his chin, tilting it up, pulling Ryou from his thoughts. White, fluffy ears sat atop Bakura’s head as if they had always been there. Red eyes fell half-closed as his hand slid to Ryou’s cheek, cradling his face. 

“Oh, Ryou,” Bakura said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in. “I’m a very bad fox.”

Lips pressed to his, soft and sweet, and Ryou forgot what it meant to breathe, freezing in place. Bakura chuckled as he drew back, stroking the skin of Ryou’s cheek.

“I understand you may need time for consideration. Don’t worry; you’ll have plenty once we’re back in my den.”

White fur meant nine tails, a kitsune’s ultimate form. Ryou could see them now, fanning out behind Bakura as Ryou stumbled backwards, freed from a suddenly lax grip. He couldn’t simply say no thank you, mister fox, and be on his merry way.

Ryou looked up at the sky, devoid of rain, but still engulfed by a thick covering of black clouds. A stick cracked beneath his heel, and he flinched, hesitating at the edge of the pond. The wheels of his mind churned as lazy red eyes followed his movements, the gaze of an unchallenged predator. Ryou hadn’t said no, and as long as he didn’t try to run, the spirit didn’t seem inclined to chase him.

No moon meant his fire ghost didn’t have the power to manifest, but maybe…

He reached for the water as if to bend it. The moment his chi touched the pond, something else grasped back, and a wave of relief passed through his heart.

“Ryou.”

“Bakura,” Ryou said, happiness encased in that simple word. The ghost’s presence overlaid him, and Ryou’s head moved without his input as they glared at the nine-tailed fox standing between them and the forest.

“You,” Bakura said with Ryou’s voice.

“Me,” the spirit echoed as a grin split across his face. “Have you come to play the white knight for your matrimonially shackled damsel?”

Bakura moved into a defensive stance. “Scram, fox. This is my pond, and you’re not welcome anywhere near it.”

“Your little lover came to me, thief.” The spirit examined a clawed hand, his multitude of tails swaying behind him. “Why should I give up what belongs in my arms?”

Bakura punched at the ground. A searing pain travelled up Ryou’s arm as white flames sprouted forth, forming a barrier between them, burning clear, illuminating the surprise flickering across his suitor's face. "Get lost. Even you have to respect boundary lines."

The spirit laughed, extinguishing the fire with an effortless flick of his wrist. “Well, well, isn’t that a neat trick.” He clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward. “Very well, I will respect your wishes. It matters little. Ryou will return to me when he feels the chains of duty twisting around his throat.”

There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke. The spirit was there, and then he was not.

Ryou’s knees weakened, and he fell to the ground, shivering as a breeze flew through damp clothing. He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging the ghost whose touch he longed for now more than ever.

“Thank you.”

Warmth stirred in his veins. “Your arm…”

Ryou lifted his hand, studying unblemished skin. He moved his arm, and water followed his guidance. He let it go, and it splashed back into the pond. “I’m okay, I think. How…?”

“I don’t know.”

Ryou nodded as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sorry. I need to go. If I’m not back before dawn, the house guards will notice.”

Bakura hesitated for a moment, and then asked, “You’ll return?”

A soft smile crept onto Ryou’s face. “I will.” 

“I’ll be here,” Bakura said, a bittersweet promise as he slipped from Ryou’s body. “I’ll always be here.”

[elisaintime]

The post-episode 3 shift

FRESH POST!

So we were talking about how AMC's Interview with the Vampire Season 1 handles their choice of making Louis a black man in the early 1900s. This is a really cool change the show made in its AU version of IWTV, and it brought in a whole lot of subjects to explore that didn't exist in the books, making the TV show a very different work of art. But all the initial ideas for this show came from a cishet white man, and while he down the line had assistance from poc collaborators, I still think the show had areas where it could have done better with regards to some of the story beats, character arcs, and plot progression. The other thread got unwieldy with multiple reblog trees, but it's here for reference: https://www.tumblr.com/elisaintime/748738811357462528/woah-i-must-have-missed-something-why-are-people You can see everyone else's discussion in the notes.

I love discussions like this! Please talk to me about vampire chronicles! I live for it! I'm posting this now because I am disappointed that a few people seem to not be understanding several things I said. Maybe I said it unclearly, or maybe they're projecting and jumping to conclusions.

Kind of like how this poster does:

I deleted/banned every single comment on my videos that talked negatively about the show making Louis and Claudia black or deriding it for trying to be woke (and there were a bunch!). I delete block and ban all forms of hate speech. My channel is absolutely not a safe space for racists or bigots of any kind.

As you can see in the screencap, there is nothing in these comments that is about the race changes. These comments are talking about other changes the show made from the books and don't touch on race at all. The poster who screencapped them is jumping to the conclusion that these commenters liking the books better than the show automatically makes them racist, and that these are racist comments. And this screencap is specifically what I was referencing at the beginning of the other thread. Several people have said this now, that my YT comments section makes a safe space for racists. But these are not racist comments, and there is no evidence that the commenters are racist. This is projection and assumption. If you DO ever notice a racist comment on any of my videos, that I somehow missed, please bring it to my attention so that I can immediately delete and ban the user from ever commenting on my channel again.

But back to the show itself and my critique of it. I'm always here for talking about vampire-related writing! Let's go!

I still stand by what I said in my videos about the few issues I had with the show's scripts. If you watched my videos or follow all I've said about the show here on tumblr or elsewhere, you'll know how excited about this show I've been from the very beginning, how obsessively into it I am, following every aspect of production and behind the scenes news. You may even be in one of the multiple discord servers with me where we talk about the show constantly. There was much I really enjoyed about season 1, which I was outspoken about in my videos, and people keep seeming to forget. My videos had a greater percentage of positivity in them than negativity. But yes, I did have critiques as well, just like I do with every single piece of vampire media I discuss on my channel--it's the entire point of my channel!--and those mostly had to do with inconsistency in the writing.

What I've said is that the DRIVING FORCE of the plot wasn’t about Louis's struggles with chafing against society as a black man after episode 3, not that there was no more racism. I said he was obviously still immersed in systemic racism all around him, which the show showed us with visual details in the background, despite no one talking about them. This is fine, we don't need it spelled out for us. TV is a visual medium, and that's what the images are there for. But my discussion is about his character MOTIVATIONS on a writing level. His want vs need. His goal vs obstacle. If you're unversed on the techniques of story writing and plot structure, I recommend Blake Snyder's book Save the Cat as a crash course. In ep 1-3, for Louis, it was about being respected as a man equal to others among his society, the citizens of New Orleans, his colleagues and business rivals. Fighting for social opportunities that were limited to him because he is black. That story ends with episode 3 and a new story begins. I’m not saying this is a bad thing. I just said I NOTICED it.

After it all burns down, Louis stops focusing on society respecting him as a human being (which was ironic to begin with, because he’s not human anymore) and his driving plot becomes about making and keeping a family and such. Obviously race is still an element of that in a mixed marriage, but it’s not about his business or social standing anymore, these parts of his life that were SO IMPORTANT to him in the first three episodes. In the books, vampires stop caring about that kind of stuff the second they are made, but the show changed it to take Louis a few years to get there instead of it happening instantly.

Obviously racism doesn't magically disappear or stop mattering once he accepts his vampire nature (which Lestat kind of promises him it will), but it does shift to being a background element for what we see on screen. He is not focused on it anymore, when it used to be the primary driving force of his plot. We hardly even get to see Louis interact with (racist) society again til the finale (and I made this observation on episode 5, which the end-of-episode credits told us was written by a white person). For example, the police that come to their door are bigoted to him and Lestat because they’re gay, but meanwhile, they act completely colorblind. At this point, Louis’s character motivations are about fear of them being caught for murder, and his emotions regarding how Claudia is struggling with her eternal child body and lashing out--about keeping his family together. Not about his racial struggles as a businessman and citizen in outward society.

Yes, we all know there were non-white people in the writer’s room (thank god! Can you imagine?? If there weren’t any, we’d all have been raging from the very beginning! Did you read RJ’s episode 1 script draft before it got revised with the input of black/queer/female editors? OOF), but the choice to completely shift Louis’s driving character motivations away from his impassioned societal race struggle to something different after 3 episodes was part of the original season outline made by white people before any poc were brought on to the team. 

And again, I didn’t say it was a bad thing, it was just something I NOTICED, and the way the show executed it felt very abrupt and clunky. Did I want the cops to not be colorblind and get in some racial digs and microaggressions while they were at Louis’s house? Ew no. But I did NOTICE that they didn’t do that, and how it was so different from the way Louis was spoken to by white people in the first 3 episodes. Did the white writer of this episode perhaps feel uncomfortable going there?

The season told two different stories for Louis, with an abrupt turn in the arc after episode 3. It didn’t feel like an arc at all, but a sharp angle. Starting with Claudia, Louis’s primary drives and character motivations completely change. He no longer wants to be an important businessman respected in society, he becomes “the housewife,” and never once seems to miss his desperately-fought-for social status at all. This comes back to what I said about the show being weakened by trying to shove in too much book stuff. Ep1-3 were all these cool new original ideas from the show with Louis having entirely new character motivations based on the show's changes to his background. They were naturally driven by what him being black in 1910 now meant. But after that story was done, it abruptly shifts back to more of how he in in the books, and trying to suddenly pull him back to his book personality/motivations/goals after giving us this whole new organically-evolved self in 1-3 was notable. I noticed it.

All in all, I think it probably would have worked much better on a writing level if it was treated as two separate mini seasons instead of presenting itself as an attempt at one coherent whole.  

[petitelepus]

FOX’S WEDDING, PART 3

KITSUNE!RENGUKO KYOJURO X FEM!READER

Summary: You and Kyojuro head out to a convenience store and on your way back you stop by the park to talk.

Warnings: None

A/N: Female Reader, Kitsune Kyojuro, Kitsune Senjuro, Kitsune Rengoku, Monster Musume!AU

PART 1 II PART 2 II PART 3 II PART 4 II PART 5 II PART 6 II PART 7 II PART 8 II PART 9 II PART 11 II PART 12 II PART 13 II PART 14 II PART 15 II PART 16 II PART 17 II PART 18 II PART 19

You were on your way to the closest convenience store called 7-Eleven that you had found on your phone's GPS. What couldn't phones do these days? Kyojuro was amazed by how handy the little device of yours could be and you were honestly amused by his reactions.

"So that little device helps you to find your way to places?" He asked and you nodded, "Yes. You can also use it to listen to music, watch videos or explore the internet, though, it's mostly designed to be used to call someone."

"My, how technology is amazing these days!" Kuojuro exclaimed, "Internet? Like ones Jorōgumo's make?"

"Wait, what?" Now you were confused. Luckily, Kyojuro didn't seem to mind your lack of knowledge and he nodded, "Yes, they are demihumans, usually called as spider-ladies."

"Ooh, now I know what you mean!" You smiled and nodded, "Internet is a little different. It's not physical, but you can access it with electronic devices. You can find probably anything from there."

"How intriguing!" The fox nodded, "Can you teach me and my brother to use this net?"

"Yes, it shouldn't be hard." You said, but then you thought about it a little bit and you came to the conclusion that the Fox brothers would need some electronics of their own.

"Remind me that we get you and Senjuro your own phones and computers." You told him and the fox looked at you curiously, "What is computer?"

"It's a device you use to explore the internet."

"Oh, like the phone?"

You nodded, but also corrected him, "Yes, but the computer is almost solely used for exploring the internet while the phone's main job is to call someone else with a phone."

"So if I have a phone, I can call you or my brother and talk with you?"

"Yes."

"No matter where I am?"

"Mostly, yes."

"How handy!" He shouted happily, "So I don't need to send crow messages anymore?"

"No, you don't need to use bird mail anymore, and unlike birds, the messages you send with the phone arrive in the other device in the manner of seconds." You explained, before yawning a little. While it was nice to teach Kyojuro new things, you were slowly feeling the lack of proper sleep creep close by.

"Are you tired, my Hime?" Kyojuro asked and you yawned one more time before shaking your head, "No, or, well, maybe a little, but it's alright."

The fox nodded and he looked like he wanted to say something, but that was when you noticed the bright lights in the short distance and you grinned, "I think we are here."

Kyojuro looked ahead and you grinned a little as you saw his gorgeous eyes widen a the sight of the brightly lit convenience store. The look in his eyes reminded you of the saying like a moth to a flame.

"I guarantee, it's more amazing inside." You said as you gently took his hand and your words and actions seemed to snap the Kitsune out of his mind. He turned to look at you and you smiled as you escorted him inside.

The moment you made it inside, Kyojuro was amazed by all the different foods and drinks all around the store. The place was empty save for the cashier who was reading a magazine behind the register so you and Kyojuro were able to shop in peace.

While the fox gawked at all the treats on display, you grabbed a basket for you and one for your companion. You had to nudge him a little to get his attention and once you had it, you pushed the basket to his hands.

"Fill it with whatever you want me to buy."

"Whatever I want?" Kyojuro's eyes almost sparkled in excitement and you had to look away or risk turning blind.

"Yes, I'll grab some things so you can do the same." You nodded and he smiled as he moved to forward to explore the store. You smiled as you watched him look around and you went to pick up something to make for breakfast.

You grabbed the most basic things there were, such as cereals, milk, orange and apple juice, a carton of eggs, some bacon, and other things that could be counted as part of the breakfast table.

Once you were satisfied with your basket, you sought out Kyojuro who had a basket of his own filled with food and drinks he was curious about. Speaking of curiosity, he was by the register, staring at something intensely. You approached him and carefully tapped his shoulder so you wouldn't startle him.

"Ah, my beloved bride!" He exclaimed and you wondered how the cashier didn't react to him. Kyojuro looked ahead and pointed at some food inside the vitrine next to the register. "What are these buns?"

"They look like they are steamed." You thought out loud as you read the product's description, "Yes, they are steamed buns with pizza filling."

"Pizza?" Kyojuro looked at you and you nodded, "It's a fast food like the hamburgers we had earlier. It's very good."

"In that case, may I try some?"

"Sure, I don't mind." You shrugged and looked at the cashier behind the register, who was still too engaged with his magazine to notice that he had customers. You cleared your throat and the young man glanced at you and the moment he saw he had customers, he sighed and got up.

"Welcome to 7-Eleven, how can I help you?" He asked and you almost winched how lifeless he sounded. You grabbed the older fox's basket and lifted it alongside your basket on the desk between you and the cashier.

"We would like to buy these and...!" You turned to look at the vitrine to see what there was. There were 6 buns left and by what you had learned today, Kyorujo had a bottomless stomach.

"And rest of your steamed buns."

If the cashier cared then he did a good job hiding it. Honestly, he probably didn't give a shit about anything. Maybe he served you because he wanted you gone quickly so he could return to read that magazine of his.

You watched as he scanned your groceries, put them in the bag, and placed the pizza buns in a separate bag, before he asked you to pay, he glanced at Kyojuro, "You cosplaying or something, dude?"

"Cos... Play?" The fox tilted his head in confusion and you shook your head, "Forget it, I'll explain later."

The cashier nodded before asking you to pay. Which you did. Once you were done, you handed Kyojuro his buns and picked up the grocery bags and left the store, and entered the night again.

"You have so much to carry!" Kyojuro noted, "Let me carry them!"

"No, no, you focus on those buns and then you can help me carry these!" You snapped, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but you were having none of that. The fox looked around and suddenly exclaimed, "There!"

You nearly dropped your bags, you were so startled by his sudden shouting.

"Wha-?" You were about to ask when Kyojuro grabbed you and pulled you with him to a small playground. You blinked as he took the groceries from your hands and placed them on the ground by the swings as he took a seat on one.

"We can sit here while I eat!" He said and you honestly had no energy to argue against him. "Okay, sounds good, but we can't stay for long since it's so late and Senjuro is alone at the house."

It was maybe around midnight and you didn't want to leave the house empty for too long since Senjuro was there all by himself. You took a seat on the swing next to his and lazily kicked your legs, making the swing move a little.

"Yes, I'll eat quickly so we can head back quickly and safely!" Kyojuro exclaimed as he fished out a hot bun from the bag and took a bite.

"TASTY!" He shouted and you winched a little by how loud he was being. "Please, try to be a little bit quieter so we don't disturb any residents nearby."

"My apologies my bride!" He nodded as he took another bite, yelling TASTY again, but notably quieter. You smiled as you watched him eat bun after bun while shouting TASTY after each bite he took. You don't know for sure why, but watching him enjoy something as simple as steamed buns so happily made you feel happy also.

But as you watched him eat, his earlier words popped up in your mind. His bride. You? You honestly still couldn't quite believe it. You? Seriously? You glanced at the man who sat next to you and asked, "Hey, Kyojuro?"

"Yes, my beloved?" He stopped eating to look at you and you suddenly felt pretty insecure. "Can I ask something?"

"Please do!"

"Earlier today, when we first met, you said you chose me to become your wife..." You were filled with uncertainty as you looked down at your hanging feet, "Out of all the possible people there are, you really chose me?"

"Yes!" He said without a pause or hesitation.

"Why?" You cleared your throat as you figured out another way to put your question, "Just...! Are you sure you want me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm not the prettiest or smartest woman there is. Don't you want your wife to match your high status?" You frowned, feeling saddened by your own thoughts and words... And Kyojuro didn't allow any of that.

"But you do match!" He exclaimed and you were startled by how honest he sounded, "What?"

"You are beautiful and kind! I could tell that the moment I saw your picture and I knew that moment that you're the woman I want to marry!"

"But I'm-!"

"Gorgeous, unique, and honest!" Kyojuro nodded, "You could have turned me and my brother away, but you accepted and welcomed us right away!"

It wasn't like you could refuse, you had signed the contract, but you guess he was right, you could have been nasty to him and Senjuro, but you weren't raised to be like that.

You grew up always giving people a chance and being open-minded. That, and you couldn't tell why, but you got his good feeling when you looked at the Rengoku brothers. Like you were all meant to be together.

"You're awfully honest." You chuckled as you were getting a little of your more hopeful and positive attitude back. Kyojuro nodded happily as he smiled brightly, "As your fiance, it's my duty to love and care for you!

Fiance... The word brought up so many feelings and so many questions. Well, you were already talking about these things so why not dive deeper into the conversation and learn more about him?

"How do you feel about getting married?"

"I'm excited!" Kyojuro said happily, "I wish great things from marriage, just like my father's and mother's!"

"I see." You got curious, "So your parents are also Kitsunes?"

"Yes, both father and mother have all nine tails they can acquire!"

"Wow, so you and Senjuro are pure Kitsunes?" You asked and Kyojuro nodded, and you expected him to talk about their family line, but instead, he fell quiet and you got worried. It didn't feel like a normal thing for him to be this quiet.

Finally, he spoke, "Now as we are talking, I must admit, there is another reason for my marriage than just to strengthen our Yokai's and humans' bond."

"Oh?" You felt like this was a sensitive topic so you didn't try to pry, but you found out you didn't need to as Kyojuro continued his tale.

"Long time ago, our mother fell ill. Every yokai tried to help her, but there was nothing to be done... With each passing day, mother turned weaker and weaker and she became all skin and bones..."

"Oh no..." You frowned as you listened to this sad story of his.

"But then, a human appeared one day and offered their help to us. Father didn't believe in humans, but we were losing hope and getting desperate so we allowed the human to try and help our mother." Kyojuro nodded as he turned to look at you and he smiled.

"That day, our mother ate for the first time in ages and she started to slowly gain her strength back. She would have no doubt died if it wasn't for this one kind human who brought her the medicine that cured her."

"Oh wow, that is amazing...!" You murmured happily as you heard that the story had a good ending. The Kitsune nodded happily, "So the reason I wanted to marry a human was because of both gratitude and love."

"But I'm not human who helped your mother," You frowned, "Shouldn't you marry them instead of me?"

"While I am eternally thankful for that human, they passed away a long time ago. Or, well, that is what I heard. Instead, I wanted to marry one as kind and genuine as the human who helped my family." Kyojuro turned to look at you, smiling like a sun in the middle of the night. "Someone just like you."

"Wh- what!?" You stuttered as you blushed. You wanted to talk, you wanted to reply, do anything, but it appeared that your brains weren't functioning right when given such sincere compliments.

"So...!" Kyojuro got up from his swing and you watched eyes wide how he humbly bowed to you. "Thank you for taking me and my beloved brother in and caring for us!"

"P- please don't bow to me! Aren't we equals?" You asked, remembering what he had told you earlier that day when you had called him Lord.

"Ah, pardon me!" The Kitsune straightened up and nodded, "I just couldn't help myself from expressing how happy I am to be living with you!"

"W- well..." You were still blushing as you looked aside, "I don't mind, you are very kind to me and Senjuro is so sweet."

"You're so kind and caring!" Kyojuro smiled proudly and nodded, "Truly, you would make a perfect mother!"

"W- wait, what!?" You snapped your gaze at your fiance, feeling your cheeks burn like there was lava below your skin instead of blood. The damn fox had the guts to laugh, "You look adorable when you are embarrassed!"

"Mother!?" You cried out, "W- We barely know each other and we are already talking about having kids!?"

"To be fair, you know much more about my and Senjuro's past than we know about yours!" Kyojuro pointed out and you winched. He was right, so far you had heard about his past, but you hadn't shared anything from yours.

What to tell, what to tell...? You wondered what you should tell her about your past, but that is when you noticed the empty bag that was filled with steamed buns just a little while ago.

"Are you done with the pizza buns?" You asked and the man nodded, "Hm! Yes, I ate the last one quite some time ago! They were delicious!"

"Then we should head back to the house, in case Senjuro wakes up and can't find either of us there." You said as you jumped off the swing and grabbed your grocery bags.

Kyojuro looked like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue and rushed to grab the bags from you. "Allow me to carry them!"

"I can take at least one of them-!" You were saying as you reached for the other bag but the fox yanked the bags away from your reach, "No, as a man I will carry my bride's belongings!"

"Kyojuro," You said and he nodded, "Yes my Hime?"

"I promise, I will tell you about my past once I can." You promised as he stared at you with those gorgeous eyes of his. Finally, he nodded, "I trust in you to do so."

"I just have to warn you, it's nothing as interesting as your family's story!" You chuckled lightly as you looked forward to the road. The man nodded, "It doesn't matter if it's interesting or not! One day you are going to be my wife and I want to know as much as I can about you!"

You blinked, once again finding yourself gawking at how open this fox was about his feelings. You grumbled a little as you continued your walk toward your shared house... Only to see that all the lights were on in the middle of the night.

"What the-?" You blinked and that is when you remembered that Senjuro was alone. Fearing for the worst, you rushed inside, Kyojuro following just behind you.

"Senjuro-oO!" As soon as you opened the door and stepped inside you felt something hit your stomach and you went down like a dead tree. You felt the air being knocked out of your lungs as your back hit the ground and you groaned, hitting the back of your head on the floor.

"Senjuro!" Kyojuro gasped and you looked down... And saw a small and most adorable fox lying on your stomach. You blinked as you and the fox stared at each until you noticed the familiar golden and red eyes.

"S- Senjuro?" You asked and suddenly there was a puff of smoke and you groaned, feeling the weight on your stomach turn heavier. Once the smoke dissolved, you saw Senjuro himself sitting on your stomach.

"Senjuro?" You called his name and the poor boy was on the brink of tears.

"I- I woke up but no one was here so I tried looking around and I got scared when I couldn't find you two...!" He stuttered as he tried his hardest not to cry but it was a battle that he was losing.

Out of nowhere, you felt your maternal instincts kick in and you quickly pushed yourself up so were sitting and hugged the dear shy boy, who pressed his face against the crook of your neck as you held him in your arms.

"I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have left you alone, it's my fault..." You murmured as you gently rocked him from side to side while petting his golden hair, minding his tall ears that were pressed so low against his head.

"No, I'm the one at fault in here!" Kyojuro exclaimed as he kneeled next to you two, "I shouldn't have left you alone like that. I'm so sorry Senjuro...!"

"It's- it's alright..." The younger fox nodded as he pulled away from the hug, "I- I'm sorry for being like this..."

"No no, nothing is your fault..." You said gently as you smiled, "Being here alone must have been so scary, but you are so brave!"

"I am...?" He blinked and you smiled, "Yes, you are. Much more than you may believe."

"Can I...?" The young fox sniffled as he glanced at the older fox, "Can I sleep today with you brother?"

Kyojuro smiled and nodded immediately, "Of course!"

The man helped his little brother up on his feet before helping you up as well. You looked at the two of them and smiled, admiring their brotherly bond. Suddenly you felt like yawning, but you held it in and took off your shoes.

"You two go ahead and get some sleep." You smiled as you looked at them, "I'll put the groceries away and then go to sleep also."

"Promise?" Kyojuro asked, referring to your earlier promise about sleep that you didn't exactly keep. You raised your hand up and another over your heart, "I promise and I mean it this time."

"Go ahead and into my room Senjuro. I'll be right there." Kyojuro said and his younger brother nodded as he climbed the stairs up and disappeared from your view. You glanced at the older brother who was looking at you with this gaze you didn't quite know or understand.

"What?"

"I told you that you would make a great mother." He said with a kind smile before wishing you good night and following his brother upstairs. You blinked as your brains registered his words and a soft blush to your cheeks.

A mom... You shook your head, trying to chase those fluffy feelings away before you grabbed the grocery bags and went to take them to the kitchen. It didn't take long before all the bags were empty and the fridge was half full with some proper food and some snacks that Kyojuro had picked out of curiosity.

You glanced at the clock on your phone. 1 am. Boy, you were late out there. You stretched your arms high up in the air, feeling those tense muscles on your shoulders ease up a little bit. After your shoulders felt better, you made your way upstairs, but on your way to your room, you stopped by Kyojuro's room and carefully opened the door to take a peek.

The brothers were soundly asleep, Senjuro in his big brother's arms, safe from any harm that the world could inflict on them. You smiled at the sight before closing the door gently and going to your room.

Boy, what a mess it was with all the moving boxes. You would have your hands full for the next couple of days and not just with your stuff, but also teaching the foxes how to live in the modern world.

Somehow, you weren't that scared of that. No, you were looking forward to it.

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I have been thinking about the au where the mentors possessiveness over their tribute save them so I got an idea on that by making the mentors possessiveness over their tribute more visible where they start arguing with each other Infront of the tributes about it maybe it's between pup and Persephone going: no lamina is the one who deserves to go home she's a lot more kind and better than the other tributes

Persephone: no mizzen is the one who deserves to win he's too young and has a full life ahead of him

And it's what gets the tributes angry And stop the argument by calling out how hypocritical both of them are being and how all the tributes are children who don't deserve to die and lamina and mizzen talk about how much coral and treech mean to them and that they too deserve to go home, none of the tributes deserve to die they are all just kids and a repeated pattern of this continues until the mentors get the idea

I feel like this could work even better if the mentors came to the conclusion that all the kids deserve to live by themselves? Just by virtue of realizing their friends care just as deeply about their tributes as they do about their own and slowly starting to see the way the tributes care about each other too because they're now paying more attention to tributes that aren't theirs. Don't get me wrong I love angry tributes and a few of them will definitely get pissed, I think it would be especially great for Lamina and Mizzen to get angry (because I see Lamina as overall emotional in every way, not just sad crying, and Mizzen is a kid so of course he'll be a little more open with his feelings), but in my head characters like Treech and Panlo would be more... defeated than anything else. Sure, there's resentment bubbling under their skin, pain and suffering and fear, but above all there's hopelessness. This knowledge that whatever they could try to do is futile because despite the Capitol's arrogance they're right about one thing: The kids can't escape. Not because they're not smart enough to though, like the Capitol thinks, but because they're a bunch of starved children in a zoo enclosure with guns pointed at them 24/7.

Anger can have impact, but I feel like absence of outward anger could be just as telling. So while some kids get mad, others... don't. They don't have the energy to. Lamina angrily comes to Treech's defence to Pup, and when Pup sees the way Vipsania seems to genuinely care for the boy despite using him like a tool and starving him for her own gain just days prior he realizes the truth and feels horrible for how mean he's been to Treech (both mentally and vocally). He expects the kid to blow up at him the way Lamina had, perhaps even more agressively so since Lamina is so sweet and gentle, but Treech just smiles at him awkwardly and tells him it's fine. His shoulders are obviously tense and he looks nervous, even a little wary and he clearly doesn't believe that Pup's being genuine in any way, but despite that he doesn't make a fuss at all. When Pup presses him, Treech just shrugs.

"But- I was horrible to you. Aren't you mad at me or something?"

"Mad?" Treech laughed humorlessly. Empty. "Of course I'm mad. But what's the point? It's not gonna change..." He gestured around the zoo vaguely. "This, is it? I-" He hesitated, shrinking in on himself slightly. "I'm just so tired... But it's fine, it's not like my feelings matter," he grimaced. "I'm going to die in a few days anyway."

And I feel like that attitude would be even more of a slap to the face for the Capitol if it comes right after anger. Seeing that these kids have been broken so badly by these so-called 'superior beings' that they don't even have the energy to let their resentment show... I don't know, I just love to explore the different reactions people have to hard situations and this is one of them.

Also wouldn't it be so funny if Harrington Sr witnessed this reaction and saw the youngest peacekeepers under his command during the rebellion in Treech? Especially when he says he's tired. Now that would be interesting to explore, especially given I have several fix-it AU's (and Even-More-Painful-Than-Canon AU's) where Pup and Treech are a couple (in the making).

Maybe I should post that fix-it HarringTreech + VipsaMina AU that's been collecting dust in my drafts for months now...

[divinecomedyproductions]

RWBY: Saints of Remnant notes: Spectulative Theology

WARNING: CONTAINS TOPICS OF RELIGION, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Now anyone who has been following my blog is well aware I am a Catholic and my reimagined RWBY AU, RWBY: Saints of Remnant, is set in the Narnia Multiverse.

Why I did this was because I felt the best way to incorporate my faith into RWBY was to turn to the likes of CS Lewis and learn to think like him.Not that I consider myself on par with him or the rest of the Inklings.

Supposed Remnant was another world created by God in the same multiverse as Narnia/The Space Trilogy, and The Triune God(The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit) revealed himself there, what would that look like? How would it change the nature of Remnant?

Which I came to several conclusions

Humans and Faunus, like Humans in Narnia, are descended from Humans from Earth's past who had stumbled into it by God's will

Things like Aura, Semblance, the existence of Faunus, Dust, are a configuration of Deep Magic of this world

Christ and The Holy Spirit appear in this world by different appearances and different names and The Father created Remnant through Christ as he is the creator(Colossians 1:16)

The Grimm given their nature must exist as some kind of Satanic force within this world and are connected to the fallen nature of Humans and Faunus

So I will go into each one briefly so let's start with the first one

This one is plainly obvious given the setting Im implying its set in, humans and faunus are descended from Humans from Earth. To be exact humans around the world dating from the days of the Roman Empire up to the late Victorian Era/Gilded Age during times of war, exploration, and persecution.

Remnant itself, formerly known as Omnibus, is older than Narnia but younger than Charn. And it's also set after The Last Battle so Narnia is long gone by the start of the story. But it should be noted the Ragnarok War which shattered the world takes place at the same time as The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.

Second. Deep Magic

As I understand it, Deep Magic in Narnia is basically the Supernatural Law of each universe which is in different configurations in each world and thus have different results.

For Remnant's case, Deep Magic would probably be responsible for the odd hair colors of people, it would transform some humans into faunus(thus making them Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, an offshoot race of humans), and giving both the potential of semblance and aura. And the Maidens and Wizard(who are among a total pantheon of 13 individuals in this AU) are of a deeper magic.

3. How God(The Father,The Son, and Holy Spirit) reveals himself in Remnant

This is obvious, I tried to do what CS Lewis did and come up with a supposed incarnation of Christ/Aslan in Remnant, and borrowing ideas from @vitamaeternum

I present The Storyteller(art done by @magiesheartlove)

sent by the mysterious Author Allfather to "tell" Omnibus into existence and proceeding from The Author Allfather through The Storyteller an entity known as The Ink of Life which works a lot like Aslan's Breath.

4.The Nature of Grimm and the connection to Original Sin and the nature of evil

We all know Grimm are drawn to negativity and how they are soulless abominations.

What if the Grimm are a manifestation of original sin that Satan and his horde of demons use to ravage and corrupt Remnant?

St. Augustine of Hippo describes Evil as privatio boni, evil exists as a corruption, negation, or absence of Good for Good is substantial while evil is not. It exists only as some kind of sickness, a cavity in your tooth, the hunger of an empty stomach, a festering wound, a black hole.

And I will go into this when I explore grimmified humans and faunus, The Grimmborne.

But basically Remnant is a wounded world, the Grimm exist as a corruption/negation of creation that festers in said wounded world and has increased after the Ragnarok, and the negativity from sin, corruption of the four kingdoms, and the tragedy of the increasing death rate of hunters exacerbates it("Always Winter, and never Christmas!")

I don't want to reveal too much, but I wanted to give you all a taste of what I have in mind.

[kpop-addict25]

Regarding the real life MCSM AU I have in mind, the poll I did a while ago ended up in a tie between Virginia and Florida. Then I remembered that according to my headcanons Jesse is born in Los Angeles, California so it makes sense that the AU will take place there.

But as a whole the Witherstom is rather... large so I came to the conclusion that it needs to take on more than just one state. I decided to use the poll results like this:

Redstonia will be located in Virginia

Boomtown will be located in Florida

And Soren’s fortress will be located in Texas (since it was the third most choosed option)

Another thing that I want to specify is that The Nether and The End still exist in this AU. The Nether still exist because this way Jesse and Axel/Olivia can go to Virginia/Florida faster and more efficiently.

I really hope this makes sense and that I will be able to explore this AU because I have some interesting things in mind for it.

(Also the next few post will be regarding background information for the character changes I will be making through this AU)

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

Your Villainess!Jennette hc's?🥺

Villainess Jennette headcanons part 2

Jennette wants to create an utopia for Athy. Her final goal is to take over the mind of every human in Obelia, strip them of their free will and control them like dolls. After turning back time just to meet Athy and lose her in the most gruesome ways possible, she came to the conclusion that she's exhausted every other option and the only way to prevent Athy's death is by erasing the will of others and imposing her own will on them.

Later she does childish things like turning her fanfictions into reality by using humans as puppets to act out her fantasies when she is bored. She doesn't feel guilty at all. On the contrary she thinks it's beautiful when she makes two people who used to hate each other fall in love with each other and make them have a baby.

Jennette doesn't like any form of negativity as she is hyperempathic (unless she choses to turn her emotions off) and rapid shifts in a mood can irritate her. That's why she programs every citizen to be in a perpetual state of bliss. They are always smiling. It's very creepy.

once Jennette has complete control over the citizens of an area Athy gets to explore it with her. Jennette writes down some extra scenarios so the day will be eventful and fun for Athy. Otherwise the people would run around like sims left on autopilot.

instead of using her black magic unconsciously and turning it on and off again, she is now using it consciously 24/07 meaning she burns tons of mana. Anastacius build her to be energy-efficient, she needs less magic than a normal magician needs for a powerful spell but in this case Jennette is messing with fate itself and playing god. She's making the impossible possible. In an AU where Athy still has her mana Jennette is metaphorically and figuratively addicted to her. In an AU where Athy isn't her main energy source Jennette is pulling mana from everyone (humans and animals) and everything (plants) around her and shortening their life spans by a day or a week or a month or a year.

The more people she has under her thumb, the less mana is taken from each of them (the less they suffer from it and the less guilty Jennette has to feel about about any untimely deaths in the distant future) that's why Jennette strives to have as many people as she can under her control. At least that's what she's telling herself when in reality she does it because she is a mana junkie. It's also in her nature wanting to be loved and worshipped by everyone.

would create friends from black mana for Athy and then get jealous of them, alternatively she picks some noble girls to be friends with Athy and removes any undesireable traits from them. Athy is very confused why Jennette's friends change personalities every few weeks and why the girls who used to bully her are suddenly so nice. She sticks to Jennette since she doesn't trust the change. Jennette is satisfied with it.

she condemns Anastacius for his theft of mana yet she uses the same method when she forces stolen mana into LP Athy's body to restore her magic and make her immortal. All this happens without Athy's knowledge or consent. She's very nonchalant about it too. One day Athy notices "hey Jetty, why am I not aging?" and Jennette is like "Surprise! I have been feeding you foreign mana while you were asleep for 15 years. Now we can be immortal together. Give me a kiss. Praise me. 😊"

although Jennette is very possessive of Athy she understands from her own experience that isolating Athy in the Ruby palace with no human company but herself will do her no good. She doesn't like to stand in the way of love either since this would make her feel like the villanious rival in a second-rate romance novel. That's why Athy and Ijekiel are allowed to be together under the condition that Jennette has to know every single detail of what they are doing. If Ijekiel wants to move his relationship further than hand kisses he either has the choice between terrible threesomes or voyeuristic sex. Athykiel are experiencing the horrors of a couple that is friends with an rpf shipper who wants to smash them together like barbie dolls. I think sometimes Jennette would compel Ijekiel because she thinks he is shy and she is helping him by giving him a little push.

Jennette is a lesbian but Roger has fucked her up so bad she thinks she is in love with Ijekiel and continues to sleep with him to please the elders. In a way she feels entitled to him. Plus she thinks siblings are supposed to share everything.

Jennette has main character syndrome. If she isn't the center of attention she gets mad. If Athykiel make Jennette feel excluded (aka if they aren't constantly showering her in love and attention) she'll get very jealous. Visiting rights will be revoked for half a year and Jennette will get clingier and even more overbearing than she was before whenever she visits them separately.

Jennette leaves Snowy/Snow White (her black mana pet) to guard Athy when she has to leave to do her duties as Empress. Athy is never alone. She always has a piece of Jennette with her. Before that Ijekiel had been Athy's assigned guard but then Jennette got paranoid that they'd grow even closer than she is with Athy and that they would keep secrets from her.

one of Jennette's many talents is that she is an excellent tracker and hunteress. Should Athy run away she could chase her to the end of the world and she would treat it like a game of tag. She's also an animal whisperer and very good at beast taming. When she's freed of her work and isn't spending her time with her beloved, you can see her riding out at midnight into the woods to set a trap and catch another pet for Athy. She wants to cheer her up after Blackie disappeared.

her favourite color is blue, the color of Athy's eyes.

the sculptures of the Emperor's concubines in the garden of the Ruby Palace are replaced with gold statues of Athy. Every day is Athy simp day.

Obelia becomes a culinary paradise. The most well paid professions are cooks and bakers because Jennette knows how much Athy loves to eat. Jennette spends more time practicing to make sweets than taking care of governmental affairs.

Athy gets a Siodonnian dancing teacher, Jennette hopes it will combat her depression and that reconnecting with her mother's culture will make it easier to forget about her father. Half of Athy's wardrobe consists of loose clothing from Siodonna. It's more comfortable to cuddle Athy if she isn't restricted by hoop skirts and layers upon layers of fabric, finds Jennette.

among Athy's gifts are never chokers or heavy bangles, because it reminds Jennette of the time when she was lead to the gallows restrained in iron shackles. Her blouses are never completely buttoned up. The maids are instructed to always leave the last buttons open. Jennette wants to see Athy's skin and feel her warmth to be assured that she is still alive.

she has a weird relationship to Claude. She hates him for what he did to Athy, but he has always been good to her. She was raised to love him and to her he was the closest thing she had to a father. After she had killed him, she ripped his body apart and scattered them to the four winds, but she kept his heart in a jar in her room. She still refers to him as her father and insists that Athy refers to her as a sister.

Upon Jennette's orders Penelope's remains were taken from the Judith crypt and transferred to the Imperial tomb. She was declared Empress posthumously. A memorial of the concubines who died during the slaughter of the Ruby Palace was comissioned as well and a recompensation for the families of their servants was paid.

The portrait of Penelope hangs above a desk in her office. Soon a new portrait of herself and Athy will follow.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

hermann gottlieb: on lunar exploration & lying to lab partners

Newton still has... moments. Fortunately, Hermann has become something of an expert.

Drafted this at work yesterday while my students did some freewriting. Five word prompt, and this AU came to life almost instantly. 1.539 words.

"I think I hate this."

 "I know this is asking for the impossible, but could you please shut up?"

 "No; I definitely hate this," Newt decided, plowing ahead as if completely unaware of Hermann speaking. The latter silently seethed, once more damning Fate and his father and every other confounded thing that had led to him being stuck here with this... menace.

 Hermann turned from the observation screen with a scathing remark at the ready, but felt it deteriorate immediately upon seeing the distressing state of his partner.

 Newton had situated himself on the floor, picking listlessly at some loose grout along the baseboard. Hermann frowned at the motion- the grout in question had developed a disturbingly bright, violet patina; as their lab and quarters were from the original base, it was likely a few decades old already.

 And Newton, their alleged “expert” on microbes and fungi, was poking his bare fingers into it.

 Wonderful.

 The irritation was easily dismissed however, replaced by a flicker of concern as Hermann observed the repetitive action, realizing that this wasn't Newton's usual restlessness. 

 The pattern was too familiar after spending so long working next to the man- the way Newton had pulled his lower lip between his teeth, the subtle way he had shoved his entire body into as small a position as possible, right arm curved protectively around the folded legs, chin was only millimeters away from resting on his knees.

 Stars help him, but he had seen this far too many times before.

 "Newton, have you taken-"

 "I mean, I know we're not in that much danger out here, I know that, but every time someone goes out there I get so caught up worrying about what might happen to them or what might come back with them or- It's- It's stupid; I’m being stupid, but it's like I can't stop and-"

 His leg would give him hell for this later, but at the moment, he couldn't care less. Hermann carefully took a seat on Newton's right, before promptly wrapping his left arm about the younger's shoulders and hauling him into something resembling an embrace.

 Newton stuttered out the beginnings a protest, but it fell away just as quickly, and he relaxed slightly. With a mild sense of victory, Hermann allowed himself a small smile, thumb tracing light fractals onto Newton's upper arm, the ridges in his skin snagging slightly on the Mylar of Newton's uniform.

 "I must look pretty bad right now, huh." It was an only observation, a passing rhetorical, but Hermann couldn't help but hum an assent anyway, Newton letting out a small sound of frustration.

 "I should be better than this by now. Hell I- I'm on the actual Moon! How is my anxiety still this bad?"

 Hermann took a moment to consider how he should answer- _if _he should answer. But at Newton's subtle behest… Well, something was expected.

 He was humbled- Newton trusting that Hermann could offer him a solution, that he could read the man better than Newton himself and offer some quantifiable, justifiable conclusion which could finally set his mind at ease.

 But the human mind wasn't so simple as that; he knew firsthand how damnably un-simple it was.

 Before one could even be considered for being stationed at Lunar Outpost GQ-654, they were required to take part in strenuous mental and physical examinations (with some notable exemptions), and well-

 While he, in his own humble opinion, did an admirable job of concealing it, Hermann's mind was also filled with- as Newton had once phrased so eloquently- a “big ol' bag of cats.”

 Another smile, this one unbidden, as he recalled that evening, watching Newton fly about the lab in his excitement, rambling (only partly-coherent) about the new water samples collected by Commander Mori's team on their latest mission. Captain Beckett had been visiting and surveying with fond amusement as Newton carried on, his tirade having shifted to something minutely conversational, dragging Raleigh into a debate about- A children’s game?

 Oh, it was an age ago. Hermann couldn't recall every detail, but the core sensations of the memory remained: warmth, affection, familiarity.

 And familiarity- perhaps acknowledgement?- was what Newton needed most.

 "I don't much care for the dark side, myself."

 He felt Newton stiffen slightly; had it been too long since he'd spoken last?

 No... No. the coordinates for Mako's team showed that it had only been a few moments, barely any time having passed at all since he had taken a seat on the floor.

 Newton was quiet, frame still coiled with tension that was edging towards contagious, Hermann's own fears starting to-

 "Somehow I always seem to forget you're just as much a mess as I am."

 Hermann couldn't repress a sardonic huff of laughter at that, letting his head fall back to rest against the cold wall, eyes fluttering shut as he sang softly. "'Misery... Misery loves company.'" He paused, resumed in his normal tone, almost conversationally. "Or so they say."

 Newton shifted, relaxing and stretching out his left leg, letting out a pained noise as his knee cracked. Hermann winced in sympathy; their pending approach towards middle age was agreeing with neither of them. 

 After a few short breaths, he could hear a tease in Newton's voice. "Never woulda pegged you for an Anthrax fan."

 "I'm not," Hermann lied easily. "But when you insist on playing that incessant caterwauling at all hours-"

 "Hey-"

 "-is it so hard to believe I would find at least one or two things that are somewhat tolerable?"

 Newton's stunned silence- no matter how brief it would likely be- was a proverbial point to Hermann. He felt his smile grow, and could practically envision the consternation eclipsing the other's face.

 "Herms..."

 Oh. Oh dear, no. That wasn't the correct tone.

 Alarmed, Hermann straightened, eyes wide as he tried to assess the condition of his crewmate. "Newton?"

 Bright, hazel eyes were angled upwards to meet his own, and there was-

 Oh, bugger him to hell.

 -that damned smirk.

 "You just admitted you like my music."

 "I admitted to no such thing. I simply suggested-"

 "Lie all you want, dude. I know now," Newton elongated and deepened his words, a practiced attempt at mimicking a villain from some cheesy B-rated sci-fi film. Hermann was surprised that Newton didn't punctuate his words with a-

 "Mu-wha-ha-ha-ha."

 -There it was.

 "You're a bloody juvenile."

 "Shut up; you love it," Newton chirped, voice finally peeling in its normal register. A little humiliation on his own end perhaps, but it was worth it to see Newton bouncing- quite literally- back on his feet, bright smile in place, holding out a hand to help Hermann stand.

 "In small increments, Newton. Small increments," Hermann found himself acquiescing as he took the proffered hand, wincing as he avoided placing too much weight on his right leg.

 He hoped Newton hadn't-

 "You good?"

 -Oh of course he had noticed.

 Hermann waved off Newton's concern, awkwardly ambling back towards his work station. The screen shifted to follow him, intuitively adjusting for the most convenient angle of its intended viewers. "I'll drop by Medical for more painkillers after J43-G3R is back in the docking bay."

 As much as it ached, Hermann was still in charge of monitoring his Robotics' programming whenever one of the teams was out. If there were any faults or coding errors, then he needed to-

 "I'll get 'em for you, dude."

 Newton's voice cut off his train of thought, eyes dragging away from the observation screen. "Pardon?"

 The other man offered a small shrug. "You asked me earlier about my meds, and I really did forget this morning. Figured I'll save you the wait and grab yours while I'm there."

 Fondness settled like a small weight in his chest, and he internally sighed in relief. "Thank you, Newton. I would be most grateful."

 Newton offered him double finger-guns as he shuffled backwards out the door. "Anytime, my guy."

 Hermann started to turn back to his computer, the long lists of data that he would be sorting through come tomorrow, before he heard familiar footsteps once again.

 "Hey Herms?"

 Hermann didn't look away from his screen, only slightly tilting his head in Newton's direction. "Mm?"

 "Thanks for earlier. I don't say it a lot, but I don't know how I'd get by without ya."

 Hermann felt his entire body stutter at the spontaneous introduction of sentimentality; it was one thing to offer a loved one a physical gesture of comfort, but words-

 Newton was watching him with that fond, foolish look he knew well now. Oh, it had dimmed for a time, somewhere between their first attempt at friendship and becoming begrudging research partners, but it had long since become so synonymous with all things Hermann now considered _Newton _that he couldn't help but offer a reflexive smile back.

 "Get out of here, you blasted menace," he ordered, words still holding a tad too much fondness.

 With a backwards shuffle and a mocking salute, Newton's expression shifted into a mischievous grin, the man almost side-swiping the doorway as he finally departed.

 Hermann rolled his eyes before turning back to his work, lightly humming along to a song he most definitely wasn't a fan of. 

[thekingwhowouldhavebeen]

Into the Backrooms (Stanley Parable Au) Part 1

I feel like I wanted to have a proper step into the Stanley Parable fandom! I am currently writing a fanfic, and looking for some roleplays (please check out my other posts on that) but I feel like making a whole ass au for this funky little game that has now decided to take up an infestation in my brain. 

And you all are gonna suffer with me.

While I am not an artist (a far cry from it really, truly is a disappointment), what I AM is a Writer. Like my dear Narrator! And for the moment, dear readers, you are all to be MY Stanley’s as I take you through an adventure as I make these two experience quite the ride if I do say so myself. 

Interested? Well I sure do hope so. Come along Readers and Stanley’s! Off to an adventure!

Content Warnings: A crucial part to every AU, the content warnings! This is purely here to make sure nothing affects the readers too badly. I wish to make you cry, not permanently traumatize you. Though, I must admit, this is a relatively mild AU. Need not fear, there should hopefully not me anything too drastic here! -Normal Stanley Parable existentialism  -Creepy Eldritch like abominations (includes fan works of the monsters of the Backrooms!) -Monsters, Violence and General Horror alike! Anything specific you need to know going forward?  Why yes of course! While there isn’t much, the most crucial thing you should keep in mind is this: The Narrator does not remember resets. Our dear Stanley does. Remember this. This is important....like this fern: 

Though I do feel like the Fern is much more important.

Any who, I am finding myself Rambling! If only there was a skip-what? Oh, we don’t speak of that? Are you sure? There’s a note? [papers rustle] Ahh! There it is, yes, we don’t speak of that. 

Apologies readers. Please ignore that. Anyways, lets reset! [snaps fingers]

This is a story of a man named Stanley...

-Stanley was a normal office worker. No wife. No kids. A simple 9-5 job with shitty co-workers and an even shittier boss. Stanley really had nothing going for him, an average man in a, while quite sad, average life. That is why it seems to be a surprise, when a man like Stanley seemed to ‘no-clip’ out of reality. As the gamers would say. 

-Stanly wasn’t sure what to do with himself. In fact, all he could do was simply stand there for a while as he took in the bright yellow walls and the familiar humming of florescent lights. In fact, it was almost familiar! ‘Why, I must just be at my job!’ Stanley thought. Though he seemed to be ignoring the quite blaring signs that this was, in fact, not his office. 

-After a few moments of strict contemplation, Stanley finally found himself in the urge to move. Though he wasn’t crying out for help, much to our confusion. Was it that he was too scared to shout? Or was it that he simply at no voice at all? Whatever the case, we only watched. Though we could see the hairs on Stanley’s hair stand up. ‘I am being watched’ Stanley thought, but despite looking around, he could not find us. 

-As Stanley started to explore these yellow walls, more and more did his mind come into the terrifying conclusion that this wasn’t his office. Obviously. Oh shush you. There was almost no desks, and the few he found were almost completely broken down. One in fact, with an ever so gentle touch, entirely broke down to smithereens! It wasn’t a very nice desk though, and no one was sad to see it go. Still, Stanley pushed forward. 

-Yet despite his countless wandering, there seemed to be no end in sight for this madness. There was no difference. Not even a dead end! Every wall felt entirely the same, and Stanley could never figure out if he was simply walking in circles or truly making any progress. And through this entire time, Stanley still seemed to be keenly aware that something was watching him. It’s strange for him to notice us. He seems to notice you more. 

-After what felt like hours, or maybe even days, Stanley came upon another desk. One that is almost brand new in appearance. Something that looked like it came just out of the box. Pristine as ever, and not even a single scratch in sight! It truly stood out against the ugly yellow of these walls. 

-What was even better, was the evidence of other people inside this desk. Various papers that contained information that Stanley had no idea existed. What seemed to scare him more, was the unsettling thought that he wasn’t alone. No...this world seemed to have monsters. ‘How can one survive a hell like this’ Stanley thought, fear coursing through him. ‘How am I, a pathetic office worker supposed to survive this hell’.

-The papers described a few entities. Ones that can be found on this ‘level’, to which Stanley made a note to himself. There are more levels. The first paper described a humanoid creature known as The Hound. The very image itself seemed to terrify Stanley, and the sheer thought of having to stare at it to get away made Stanley pray that he would never have to encounter it. 

[Art by oxslittlehorrors]

-The second monster was called the Bacteria. Though this one didn’t seem to concern Stanley too much. He had no friends to communicate after all, which is very sad and depressing for Stanley, as one deserves to have friends. Alas, he must suffer through unimaginable horrors...all by himself. Stop being melodramatic. He came in by himself, which is normal.

[Art by DarkAudi1728]

-The third monster seemed to terrify Stanley the most, and rightfully so. With a twisted smile and unnatural eyes, this was truly a creature straight out of Stanley’s nightmares. And the very thought of nightmares made Stanley wonder, ‘Maybe I am dreaming?’ he thought, ‘maybe if I opened up my eyes, this all would disappear’. Oh. If only it were that easy Stanley.

[Art By Rerochu]

-It was the last file, that interested Stanley the most. In fact, it seemed to have interest him so much, he decided he would read the entire file! ‘The Watchers’ it was simply called. 2 beings who seemed to only watch and never speak. We can speak Stanley, you simply aren’t ready to hear us. From what the creator of this file can gather, he believes that there are 2 watchers, mostly concluded that the entities that are watching him feel different when each do it separately. There is a third. They are much higher than us though. They are the one truly writing this story.

-Stanley didn’t like that these Watchers were in fact watching him, and wondered what was so interesting about him that they feel as though they should watch him. After all, wasn’t he just an average man who lived a uneventful life? What was it that made him so special? Out of all these creatures though, the only ones that were considered entirely harmless were the Watchers. So maybe, he could be content with their staring. If only they could maybe give him some privacy when he-oh I am not repeating that! That is entirely disgusting Stanley! I understand you humans have various bodily fluids that need to be purged from the system but to think I would want to watch that! The gall Stanley, the utter insolence to believe that I wouldn’t allow yourself some-oh your not even listening Stanley. Not yet anyways. 

-Despite his fears and worries, Stanley pushed on. This never-ending maze drove on and on, as Stanley seemed to desperately search for anything that may free him from this hell scape. To allow himself to return back to the reality he wanted. ‘Maybe this will be the motivation to finally quit my job!’ thought Stanley. Maybe this will finally be the reasonings of why he will finally pull a life together that wasn’t quite so average. That wasn’t quite so dull. Maybe Stanley could finally get out of that terrible rut he was in. 

-Though as Stanley thought about it, it wasn’t the job that truly made him so dissatisfied. No, instead it was the crushing loneliness that truly made him dislike the life he lived. He had no wife, nor kids after all. No friends or even family that Stanley was close too. He was alone in life, and now maybe he will be alone in death. Your never alone Stanley. I-we are always here. You will not die alone here, we are watching you.

-As time passed, and his exploration continued. Stanley seemed to suddenly freeze in place when he heard the sounds of vents crashing. Vents he wasn’t even aware of in the first place. There was snarling and growling, and then in front of him fell a large lump of flesh, fur and hair. The Hound. A great beast, and so much bigger than Stanley could ever have thought possible. It had fallen quiet clumsily, and seemingly unaware of Stanley’s presence as he pulled itself back up. Bones creaking unnaturally, and soft snarls escaping its gnarled lips sent a much different shiver up Stanley’s spine. 

-’Hide! Hide’ Stanley thoughts seemed to cry, ‘He needed to hide’ and yet all he remembered with the long yellow halls and corridors that led to nowhere. What was he to do, what could he do with this horrifying monster was right in front of him. Yet, Stanley persevered. Keeping this amalgamation of twisted limbs and grotesque stench in his eye sight as Stanley slowly walked backwards. Though, it really didn’t take long for the Hound to find the office worker. 

-Yet despite it’s entire attention was on Stanley, it seemed as though it was frozen. Just like the file said, stare at it and it will not move. Stanley kept slowly inching further and further back, desperately praying that there would be somewhere for him to hide. Somewhere to run and lose the monster that wants to tear him apart. With one flick of his eyes, looking to spot the freedom from this danger, the Hound lunged. 

-Stanley was lucky, he was far enough away to dodge from the monsters attack. Scrambling for his life, Stanley found himself now running back through these office walls. Both familiar and not familiar at the same time, and yet there was one key stark difference. A silver locker. Stanley didn’t question it, he was running for his life after all. That locker wasn’t there before. Shut it.

-Stanley was desperately trying to catch his breath, ‘this was a lot more than I bargained for’ thought Stanley, ‘how am I going to survive this?’. The Hound walked past his locker, and he tried to be as silent as possible. He didn’t want the monster to find him, to tear him apart like the file said it would. He didn’t want to die, he was young. He had so much left to live for. He wanted a family, a life that he truly enjoyed living. He wanted-Stop rambling and continue. Oh come on! It’s a great time for reflection!

-Yet the Hound kept moving on. He kept continuing and the sounds of crunching and snarling and slobbering faded into the distance. Stanley was safe...for now. There were many more monsters and horrors that awaited him in this endless maze. Stanley had much to go, but with surviving the first encounter, Stanley felt confidence. Is it confidence, or arrogance? You always think confidence is arrogance.

-After this terrifying encounter, Stanley took a little bit to pull himself together. Much to the Watcher’s annoyance, as they were starting to grow bored of just watching this plain office worker walk around. The Hound finally brought a bit of entertainment but really, it wasn’t much.

-Why don’t you watch the entities then, if your so bored? They are even more boring...much more predictable. Then stop complaining. 

-But eventually, Stanley had to get moving again. He wondered how long he was exploring. Now that the first locker had appeared, there seems to be much more popping into place. ‘More places to hide’ Stanley noted. There even started to have more desks pop into place. Desks that had more items, such as food and water. Survival needs that for a moment Stanley seemed to forget he needed. 

-He encountered more of the creatures and each time was able to survive against whatever they had to throw at him. It seemed that even if one was a basic office worker with quite a sad life, he had the necessary skills to survive this place. Yet all Stanley thought to keep him focused, was the thought of going home. A hopeless endeavor. You will never leave Stanley, not until we want you to. Don’t we want him to win? Win what? The game?

-’Hello?’ Stanley suddenly thought. Looking up as though he heard two voices. Did he hear us? That would be the first? He can’t be ready yet. ‘I can hear you though’ Stanley thought again. Can you hear both of us? ‘There is only one voice...are you the watchers?’ It seems like he cannot hear me. Strange. The few who made it this far could hear us both. ‘Hello?’ Stanley thought again. ‘Are you still there?’ We are still here Stanley, well I am still here. We are simply wondering why you cannot hear us both. ‘So you are the Watchers’ Yes we are, of course we are. What else would we be.

-Stanley seemed to contemplate that. He went silent as he crept into his thoughts, searching the crevices of his mind to figure out if there was any way to explain this situation. Though this couldn’t be any more abnormal than the abomona-’Why are you narrating me?’ Stanley suddenly thought, pulling himself out of his tangent.

-What? Stanley you can hear that too? You shouldn’t be hearing that, oh no. This is very wrong. Stanley could you hear me the entire time?

-Stanly had only shook his head, his face frowning in a sort of confusion as he stared up at the ceiling. As though that was where he thought this mysterious voice was coming from. ‘I only just started hearing you now’ Stanley said, in response to the voice’s question.

-How strange Stanley, that you can only here me. Hmm, well as I try and figure out what is happening, how about you go one and try to continue finding your way out?

-Stanley suddenly shook his head, waving at the ceiling to try and get the voice’s attention back. ‘Wait’ cried Stanley, ‘Wait come back! I don’t want to be alone again!”

-Stanley, you are never alone. We are always here, always watching over you. 

-’Then tell me your name at least...what's your name’ Stanley asked, and the voice went silent at though. There was a sense of unease in Stanley, as though he may be hearing it narrate, it was taking a long time to respond to what he thought was a simple question.

-I do not have a name Stanley, I am only here to watch. Rarely ever interact.

-’Then what should I call you? If theirs two Watchers, how can I make sure I ask for the right one?’ Thought Stanley, as he stood there. Still staring up at the ceiling.

-Well I shall leave that choice up to you Stanley. I am not good with names, I only know yours and the others that came through here. None to call my own.

-Stanley contemplated that. It was a difficult ask, as what could you possibly name an entity that is beyond what seems to be human. A god in of itself who watches your every move and knows your every thought. What could he name something that speaks your-’Narrator. I am going to call you Narrator.’

-What a fascinating name Stanley! It is good to meet you!

[sweetmage]

Dom or sub Abdirak?

Sorry anon, I let this rot in my inbox all day for the reason of uhh.... I was not sure 😅 Ultimately I think I'd say switch, but I tend to write him leaning more submissive? I should note that everything I am saying mostly pertains to my Tav!Abdirak, I haven't given as much thought to him outside of that AU 😅 Anyway, I came to the conclusion that I HC this for a few reasons: [Under the cut because NSFW!]

1.) He can mention a few different times/ways that he tends to prefer to worship with his own pain but that he can provide his services to others. Ultimately that probably doesn't really mean much of anything, I just used it as a basis for the headcanon. 2.) I mostly write him with Astarion and while I do certainly think there are many scenarios in which Astarion can benefit from letting someone else have control in that situation, I personally just have more interest in Astarion getting to set the stage and pacing and play out his power fantasies in a way that's safe and controlled. With Shadowheart uhhh... mixed opinions and feelings and stuff on that one but that would get into late game spoiler territory so I'll save it unless asked specifically to go into it.

3.) There are some serious traumas that I've written into his backstory and because of things that would take too long to explain here, I personally just HC that under these circumstances he would find it most cathartic to explore that sort of intimacy at the mercy of someone he could trust in a safe environment.

4.) Related to point 1 and 3, I also HC that he does have a preference for being in a submissive and receiving role when it comes to pain, but has basically never experienced it from anyone but himself due to not having that sort of trust level with others before meeting Astarion and Shadowheart and getting close to them.

Those are just my silly little thoughts and opinions! Thanks for the question <3