#doesn’t even meet the basic requirement

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hello everyone and welcome to another wip wednesday ❤️ I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter and I am tagging:

@bougainvillea-and-saltwater @dirty-bosmer @captain-of-silvenar @lucien-lachance @pocket-vvardvark @theoneandonlysemla

@firefly-factory @ladytanithia @sulphuricgrin @changelingsandothernonsense @umbracirrus @moriche

@hircines-hunter @scholarlyhermit

So I have been encouraged by some lovely friends (you know who you are ❤️) to explore a Modern AU Theomar as spies. Have no idea if this will end up on ao3 as life is in a strange place right now but I've been playing around with how to incorporate events of Skyrim into a modern context. But this snippet is mostly them flirting at the bar 😛 Under the cut because suggestive a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up whore ass behaviour

“Can I get a between the sheets, with Colovian brandy if you have it?” 

“I’m afraid we’ve only got Cyrodiliic brandy and Geef.” They have Geef but not Colovian? Puzzled as to how the brandy from Morrowind is more common here, she orders the closest of the two.

“I’ll take the Cyrodilic.” As her suspicions were correct, the bar is almost empty save for a figure on the other end, it takes no time for her drink to appear. “Thank you.” 

The citrus of the orange liquor is delicious and burn from the brandy is familiar, thoughts of having five or six more tempt her; nursing a hangover at work was not the worst. That too was familiar, once she had even given a briefing to the Director after an attempt to empty the city’s sujamma supply. Wretched headache but she was good at her job. If not for the fact there was a meeting scheduled for first thing in the morning tomorrow, a meeting to establish the collaboration with those Altmeri Dominion diplomats, Theodora would have thrown her uncharacteristic caution to the wind. But tomorrow required everyone to be at their most professional to be thrown into the den of vipers, as her colleague Dram put it. Dramatic as always. Yet, she harboured a few concerns of her own. An odd way to describe them as even she knew they were not here in the spirit of diplomacy, that was evident based on her prior interactions with the Thalmor in Cyrodiil. Sarce they were, but it was obvious they had a need to put their golden hands over everything. The war hadn’t stopped, it just became hidden. 

As she finishes the drink, the last of the liquid is not yet swallowed when another is brought to her. 

“From the elf over there.” Too focused on drinking and thoughts of work, the agent forgot such a basic skill in her line of work: observation. Bringing the figure from her periphery to the centre of her vision, her concerns about the Altmer she’ll meet tomorrow are exchanged with intrigue at the one looking at her. Looking at his strong jawline and thinking about how satisfying it would be to grip his black tie, it doesn’t matter that he has a buzzcut. Different in very many ways he was. Offering him a smile and downing the drink, she approaches the stool beside him, sitting as she starts the conversation. 

“What are you drinking?” It’s almost unfortunate how handsome he is, now close enough to see the details on his face. Only somewhat knowledgeable on guessing a mer’s age, she can tell his over one hundred but beyond that she’s uncertain. Not that it matters. The slight chuckle he does is attractive, as is his voice. 

“Supposedly a Fine Elven Wine.” Very fitting she thinks. “Yet it is neither fine nor a wine, certainly not Elven.” Taking the glass from his hands, swirling it for a moment before she sips. Gagging at the taste. The mer laughs harder now. 

“Gods, that is disgusting. Here, let me get you something better.” Once again flagging down the bartender, she orders him a Collequiva, a fancy imperial wine. Watching as he has a taste, it seems it is satisfactory. 

“Hmm, better than I expected. Thank you…” Ah names, might be good to do that now.

“Theodora” she says. 

“Ondolemar.” 

Introductions out of the way, names all that needed to be exchanged; personal details kept under wraps due both to the secrecy of her work and her desire for privacy. Any other information he would need could be figured out after. In the event she found herself in his lap she could let him know what treatment she expects; deciding to start leading them there, she asks him a question. 

“Do you often buy human women drinks from across the bar?” His people in particular frowned upon such relations, would be good to gauge where his thoughts on the matter lied. 

“Would you believe I do not?”

“I would actually.” Why did he then… 

“You look too exquisite to sit alone at the bar, I have a feeling that this was not part of your original evening plans.” A bit taken aback but such a compliment as she was used to very different words from men, but the rest of his response is curious. It was a leap in logic to assume that off of what she is wearing alone, but it was correct. How did he know that?

“And what would you know of my plans? Maybe I wanted to get dressed up just to sit at the Winking Skeevar?” He dryly chuckles, drinking more of her recommendation. 

“Well then. I would say there are better bars to do that at. This one leaves much to be desired.” 

“Then why are you here?” She says. 

“My residence is nearby, it is convenient.” A reasonable enough answer, she had done many things because it was convenient at the time, many men fell into this category. Not the best but around. Good enough for the job that was pleasing her. Perhaps her eyes should not have lingered on his forearms, the neatly rolled fabric that was tight around the middle of them. Not lingering now, they trail up and over his torso as she imagines ripping the white button up off, let the buttons scatter and litter the floor. 

Returning to his initial comment on her appearance, she questions the word he used. 

“So I look exquisite?” A straightforward start, she’s curious where he’ll go with it. 

“You do, that is a lovely dress.” A straightforward answer, safe. It’s too safe so she amps things up a bit with a little test to figure out what kind of guy he is. 

“Hmm, well I’ve been told before by men that it does not leave much to the imagination.” 

“Then they do not have a very good imagination, now do they?” Another sip, more than a sip, a full mouthful and then he continues. “A simple man imagines merely the body, they neglect to think all which you can do with it.” Her widened eyes have him mistaken that he overstepped in his words, something which could not be further from the truth as she is imagining all the things she’d like to do with him. “I may have already had too much to drink.” 

“Oh I wouldn’t say that, Ondolemar.” Her hand reaches for his tie, tracing her hands along the complex knot securing it and enjoying the fact that although he is smirking, how he tenses does not go unnoticed. “I like a man who is forward.” 

[lostryu]

im going to kill you with hammers

angy cause you don’t like being exposed for transmisogyny, huh?

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R��s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

[julietsbody]

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations. 

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love 

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic,  he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone. 

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess. 

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else. 

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you. 

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?” 

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board. 

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said. 

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.” 

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, ��hey, luke.” 

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.” 

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.” 

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own. 

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more. 

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.” 

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is. 

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?” 

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.” 

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?” 

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly. 

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again. 

“have you finished the paper?” 

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea. 

“you should help her, luke, with the work.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away. 

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen. 

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze. 

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.” 

“what?” 

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.” 

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow. 

“like what?” 

“like you’re hiding something.” 

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.” 

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him. 

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“ 

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke. 

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?” 

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.” 

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked. 

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now. 

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless. 

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?” 

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.” 

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.” 

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to. 

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother. 

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.” 

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“and you need to grow some balls.” 

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.” 

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.” 

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door. 

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is. 

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words : 

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face. 

“are you okay, luke?” 

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.” 

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button. 

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut. 

dear god, save him now. 

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?” 

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.” 

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?” 

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..” 

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer. 

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“ 

“with me?” 

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well. 

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes. 

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.” 

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position. 

“have you touched a girl before?” 

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.” 

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his. 

“are you sure?” 

“‘course i am.” 

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.” 

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees. 

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out. 

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits. 

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..” 

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?” 

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.” 

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen. 

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“ 

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.” 

“that’s— a good thing.. right?” 

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers. 

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this. 

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements. 

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred. 

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again. 

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…” 

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier. 

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips. 

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick. 

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet. 

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you. 

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words. 

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!” 

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne. 

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague. 

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters

(basically non-yuu pairings I think about instead of my inbox :p)

Ignyhide vice!Mc x Jamil Viper

Mc is probably twisted from one of the little demon goons, and it makes your contrast with Jamil charmingly obvious. You’re both vices in the basketball club with an outside connection to your wardens (you figured a physical activity’ll ward Idia’s eye away) and you both hate your jobs to a comedic degree. The connection is actually really sweet and subtle!! Atleast until book 6 when Mc is complaining about their ego trippy boss while basically eating out of Jamil’s hand, feeding him information like the layout and hierarchy of styx,, as Idia’s super exclusive assistant it’s only fair to give your guests a full tour!

“geez! And he just gets so flippy-floppy, yknow? He’s got this thing about energy drinks now so I’ve been diluting them, it’s such a pain!”

“It might just be a defect with housewardens. Have you ever heard of the incompetency theory?”

Card soldier!Mc x Malleus Draconia

okay picture this- Mc is comepletely wasted and coming off the high from a holiday party that was totally killer. You wander into the woods past campus and find yourself at a little abandoned cottage, it’s like 100% cozy enough to chill in before stumbling back to the dorms. You continue heading there for pregames/drunken shenanigans, meeting up with some hot guy that hangs around sometimes. You’re fully blindsided when your “little buddy” is kicking heartslabyul ass during a spelldrive tourney..

“Yoooooo, Mally, you must be really fun at parties. Want ta’ go with me?”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to a “rager” before, but it sounds.. enjoyable. I accept.”

Ignyhide freshman!Mc x Deuce Spade

You’re a shaking mess during your first track meet. It’s a graduation requirement to take at least one gym class before the end of freshman year, and you’d rather die than take flight class with all those scary seniors!! Your vice had enough sense to convince you into not dropping out, he’d said that “track is low stress!” And “you’ll enjoy it” >:( you can’t believe he’d lie to your face like that!! (Is this the AI revolution??) You guess it’s not too bad though, you’ve even started strength training with a new friend. He’s a little short tempered, but it could be a lot worse.

“hey, I had no idea ignyhide kids were into track! I thought it’d be too much sun,,”

“We’re not vampires. I wouldn’t clown on you for the tea in your thermos, so lay off.. heh, there’s totally a dormouse in there.”

Scarabia housewarden!Mc x Leona Kingscholar

It’s pretty rare to see Leona of all people in your reserved pool chair, but plenty of weird stuff’s happened during your senior case study. You’re this close to getting your big shiny diploma- and a little rest now and then won’t hurt anybody! Savanaclaw’s housewarden has only had his position since last year, and you’ve held yours through all four. After knowing of each other for so long, it’s only logical that you’d become good friends! (Not that he calls you that)

“So you’re graduating, huh? Hope that brat you chose’ll fill your shoes, you’ve worked pretty hard.”

“awh, you’re such a sap,, I’m sure you’ll like Kalim, he’s no idiot. I promise to visit whenever you decide to graduate, but it’ll be a lot easier if i get that job in the castle!”

Octavinelle sophmore!Mc x Jack Howl

Poor Jack has to deal with everyone else’s business on top of his own education, when does he get a break? That ramshackle prefect’s looking for leads on how to beat those twins in the water, and only one face comes to mind. You’re his coworker at his temp job, and you owe him a favour (atleast from your perspective, he doesn’t hold it over your head) because with your grades Azul’s got it out for you. He’s begging for you to help him out- and who are you to deny those puppy eyes?

“Jack you can’t tell him! The housewarden’ll make me quit, I need this job! :(((“

“woah, it’s not like I’m gonna blackmail you.. what kind of guy do you think I am?”

Savanaclaw freshman!Mc x Epel Felmier

You’re lost, stressed and so confused in your first year :( it feels like everything is going wrong all the time!! It’s probably like 10x worse because you’re very tall and so built, but nobody cares to peer up at the cute giraffe ears on your head! You’ve been challenged by so. many. seniors. (and you win against all of them, you’re no pushover) but you’re tired of the beef. Epel just thinks you’re the coolest person in the room, and is always saying he wants to get freaky fridayed with you. But he doesn’t get the struggle!! Atleast Jack cares enough to tell him you’re just not liking it at school, and it makes Epel kick into action- he’s not letting you drop out, so please wait until he transfers!!

Pomefiore Junior!Mc x Rook Hunt

You’re convinced that Rook c. Hunt is the worst guy in all of twisted wonderland (C for creep)! And it SUCKS because he went from your rebellious savanaclaw boytoy to.. whatever he is. (How’d you miss the warning signs when you were tongueing him??) You can always see his stupid bob in your peripheral- but you’ve rationalized that if you watch him, then he only sees what you want him to see! It’s keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, just until graduation. And it does work, until you realize you’ve given Rook an inch that he’s turned into a mile. You’ll probably never get rid of him now, but what’s the point anymore?

“Ah, mon cher! You always enchant me with your passionate gaze, I’m honoured to be the object of your attention!”

“uh.. sure thing, hon. Whatever you say.”

Diasomnia Senior!Mc x Idia Shroud

You’re a highly educated noble from the mysterious land of Briar Valley. You are poised, weirdly formal, and utterly incompetent with your newest area of study- contemporary technology. You’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s pointless, they don’t even use it at home! But if you want to travel anytime before the collapse of human civilization, it must be done. you’re insatiable with your thirst for knowledge, and completely enamoured with having first hand experience with every era of mortal tech. It also happens to be almost impossible to revive your “Kno-Keya” once it has decided to die. That is where Idia Shroud comes in.

“In exchange for the revival of my electronic mailing device i am willing to offer an extensive dowry befitting of your station and technological necromancy skill. Will it suffice?”

“I literally only charged your phone, uh.. WOAH, A DOWRY?? I don’t have the space for five horses!! I’m totally not prepped for the marriage route, I haven’t seen the wiki yet!”

[heart-eyed-love]

Spaghetti and Sacrifices

Summary | An obscene amount of candles has you thinking something that Eddie hadn’t intended, at least there’s some spaghetti to make up for that

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing, Mentions of not being a virgin (lies! but dw, it’ll come up again at some point), Eddie has hopeless romanticness running through his blood and doesn’t even know

Pairings | BestFriend!Eddie x BestFriend!Reader

Word Count | 1.2k

“You know, I made enough for multiple servings not because I wanted you to eat it all.” Wayne eyes Eddie as he slides his coat on getting ready to leave for the night and head out to work.

“Why make so much if you’re gonna judge me for eating it?” Eddie turns his head back to look at his uncle.

“I’ve been seeing Y/n’s mom around less and less, I made enough so maybe you’d invite your friend over and get a good meal in her.” Eddie looks up from his plate of spaghetti and out the window to your trailer, right across from theirs. To no one's surprise the night was getting darker and your mom’s car is still gone. The only light on in your home was through the window that led to your bedroom.

Wayne right. They’ve been seeing less and less of your mom, it’s not like either one of them really went out of their way to seek her out. But she’s your mom, so the casualties were basically required at this point in the friendship.

They wouldn’t be all the surprised if you had seen her just as much as they had lately. You had informed him a few weeks back that she had gotten a new boyfriend and that she seemed to prefer to spend her nights with him now.

“Okay, well I’ll see you in the morning.”Wayne says as slips out the door, out into the night.

Eddie looks down to his plate, he could definitely go for seconds… but he’ll make sure to go get your first. He pulled another plate out of the cabinet before shoveling another slice of the garlic toast into his mouth before heading to the door.

He looked back to the living room area where he would hopefully be sitting with you for the rest of his dinner, but something was missing.

He headed over to the closet in the hallway, grabbing some candles and walking back into the living room. Wayne had a surprising amount of candles and Eddie was gonna use that to his advantage. He set them up on the coffee table in front of the couch.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the candles were needed, he just did. A nice spaghetti dinner, in front of the Tv, with his best friend… yeah, sure. Why not?

Maybe he went a little overboard with the amount of candles but the ambiance was nice so that's all that really matters.

He threw on his jacket and Wayne’s slippers and slipped out the door. Making his way over to your window, tapping on it lightly.

You hear a small tapping at your window, pulling you from the book you were reading. Setting it down and walking to your window you already knew who was gonna be on the other side. You pull it up anyways, with a smirk on your face.

“My mother’s not here, Edward. You can use the front door.” You tease and he’s narrowing his eyes at the use of his full name.

“Yeah, well where’s the fun in that?”

“What is it you need?”

“Wayne made some dinner, spaghetti. Thought you might want some…” He says, finger twirling the ring round the other.

“Is there any garlic bread?” You question, as if it’s a deal breaker.

“You know there is.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in minute.” You say as you turn to slide your shoes on and then turn back in an attempt to shut your window.

“Wait, just climb out the window.” He says, stopping you from shutting it.

“Why?” You laugh in disbelief.

“Your mom’s never home, you never even have to try and be rebellious, just come out the window, it’ll be like you're sneaking out to come meet me.” He smirks, raising his brows.

He held your hand to help you down, you took it begrudgingly, rolling your eyes as you say, “As if I’d ever sneak out to meet you.”

“You know, sometimes you’re a little pain in my ass.” He says once you’re fully out of your window, he takes the window and shuts it.

“Well, good. I’m glad I was able to fulfill my true role in this friendship.” You smile brightly and he’s flicking your forehead. You shove his back as you both walk over to his trailer, he barely budges.

Hopping up the steps of his porch he opens the door for you, shoving your back into the trailer in return. But once you’re in you freeze at the sight.

Candles. So many candles.

The room is relaxing and the smell of Wayne’s meal makes you feel at home. Eddie walks past you and into the kitchen, “You want me to warm the spaghetti up for you?” He asks as he retrieves the plate he had gotten out for you.

You ignore his question, turning to look at him in the kitchen with an arched brow, “Is Wayne here?”

“Uh no…” He scratches the back of his neck, “no, it’s just us….”

“So it’s finally happening, huh?” You ask, causing Eddie to furrow his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re finally giving in to all the rumors people spread?” He’s still confused as you go on, “I’m not a virgin, you know?” And he freezes as you say that statement, the smirk on your face feels like you’re taunting him. He’s VERY confused now. Cause that’s like… that’s huge. He is also trying to connect why that’s important right now, and he’s also trying to understand why the thought is making him feel slightly sick.

But quickly you add, “So, I’m not so sure how well this virgin sacrifice will work for you.” He finally rolls his eyes at your teasing and walks back into the living room, shoving your plate over to you.

“You’re so annoying you know that?”

Only causing you to smile more, “So I’ve been told.”

Eddie watches you as you walk into the kitchen, filling your plate with the spaghetti, throwing a piece of the garlic toast on as well. But as he watched you he couldn’t help but think back to what you had said.

That was a joke too, right? The whole you not being a virgin thing was also part of the joke, right?

You walk back into the living room, shoving a whole forkful of the spaghetti into your mouth as you sit down next to him. “So what’s with the copious amount of candles?” You ask, mouth still full of spaghetti. Sometimes he wonders if you guys are too comfortable with each other… it’s not like it bothers him anymore, your little quirks, he just wonders if he’s getting too deep into this.

“Wayne likes them.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure he does, but maybe not all at the same time.” You giggle.

“It smelt weird in here.” He lied.

“It’s two men living in a small trailer, it always smells weird.” Not even looking at him as you say it, like it’s just common knowledge. Obviously, you’re teasing, but sometimes Eddie has a hard time catching on.

“No, it- Wait, does it?” He asks a tad bit more frantically than he would’ve liked to come off. Causing you to let out a loud laugh.

“Jeez, it’s just too easy with you.”

He’s rolling his eyes, hiding the small smile fighting to make its way on his face by retrieving the remote and turning on the Tv, “Just shut up and eat your spaghetti.”

@evileyeandthecattywhumps

[boringbones]

A Letter to Talented Creators

I've been part of this community for 20 years, watching artists rise, fall, leave for new journeys, or simply stop playing or creating. We've received amazing content, but we've also missed out on much.

I wonder how many of these artists could still be creating extraordinary content if they had the support of their communities. It’s common to encounter cliques of creators who vilify anyone considering making a living doing what they love. They’ll use every trick to convince you that not only do you NOT deserve it, but that pursuing it somehow taints you.

With every new friend and artist I meet, my first advice is always: FIND a way to monetize what you do. I believe that if you have the chance to make a living doing what you love, you gain MORE TIME to do what you're great at and, especially, what others love.

Besides, you don’t need everyone’s support—just those who, like me and many other players, are willing to contribute to ensure you have the time you need to keep producing and delivering something only you can create. There are ideas that haven’t been thought of and projects that haven’t been started. Life brings unexpected situations, and we never truly know what goes on behind the scenes for each person who shares their art with the world.

Let me tell you, people are willing to support you. In reality, there are more people willing to support a creator than those who aren't. The difference is that those who are willing don’t make as much noise, but they genuinely enjoy helping an artist who continually exceeds expectations.

I know some people think, “If I make money from this, I’ll have to commit to a level I’m not willing to.” And if that’s the case, that’s fine. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. However, I see this commitment as something positive, but I respect those who disagree. As an artist, you want a certain level of "healthy" pressure. After all, art requires it—not too much pressure, but not too little, either.

Criquette, for instance, is one of the best creators for The Sims 2 in my view. He made incredible things that nearly every player has used. He was ambitious on a level I’ve rarely seen. But he’s been inactive for years. I wonder how much more he could have created if he’d been able to monetize his work—cover household bills, put food in the fridge, or handle basic expenses. How much more time he might have had to create and share? How many brilliant things we could have today in The Sims if he were still here? But he wasn’t monetized, and maybe he was never interested in it, and that’s okay!

For every artist who monetizes, there are many who prefer to do it as a hobby. And that’s wonderful. There are many runners who do it for well-being, pleasure, social connections, or the benefits it brings to life. However, there are those who run professionally. They commit to a level an “amateur” NEVER would. They undergo training that a casual or hobbyist runner would NEVER endure. They maintain diets that others would NEVER tolerate. But the fact that some monetize running and turn it into a career doesn’t prevent others from running for love, fun, or enjoyment.

So, what I’m trying to say is: it’s all okay. If you believe monetizing your talent would give you more QUALITY time to sit and produce what you love, give you the chance to take someone you love to a special restaurant simply because you can, or allow you to be BETTER at what you do because it frees you from worrying about adult responsibilities—then do it!

Be prepared for the noise others will make, but remember that those people aren’t your target audience. Even if they make noise, they don’t consume what you produce. And if they do, they might do so in secret—because attacking a creator and consuming that creator’s work is contradictory. But believe me, there’s often more inconsistency than consistency in this world. And that’s okay!

Remember that on the other side, there are many kind people who don’t mind contributing a small, medium, or even significant amount to support a creator they love, appreciate, and benefit from. Keep this in mind when considering monetization, no matter which version of The Sims you create for. If there’s even one person willing to support you, that’s all you need to start.

I am sure that with this, you’ll have more time, more quality of life, more joy, and a healthy commitment to push yourself in a positive way to give back to your audience for the support and love they have for what you create.

If I have time to create and contribute today, it’s because of these people. They’ve changed my life, shown me that I have the chance to live the life I genuinely want for myself rather than the life circumstances might have dictated. They show me daily that I can LOVE what I do and make a living from it, and that monetizing it doesn’t take away my love for it—instead, it enhances it. I hope you consider my words.

In the end, remember this phrase: “Beyond daily life and what others think of you, what do you think of yourself?” Your value is something only you define. People will respect you to the extent that you respect yourself. If anyone says you don’t have a place “here,” remember, we’re always speaking about ourselves.

We can only give to others what we have, what we are. Trust in your talent and find a way to monetize it, whatever it may be—whether it’s making jarred cakes, selling pudding door-to-door, or creating content for The Sims. I’ve done all these things, and if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that our circumstances change according to our sense of worth. When we recognize that every job has value and that there’s nothing wrong with making a living if you’re providing benefits to others with what you have to offer... So follow your heart. Take risks, give it your all, and be the artist you want to be, because there are people ready to support you. You deserve it, and you will succeed. I hope this letter reminds you of your worth.

Never forget that each of your creations is a unique expression, something only you can bring to the world. May that value and uniqueness always guide you and give you the confidence to keep doing what you love.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello!

I love your writing, so I wanted to request one where Alastor finds out that the reader is pregnant (it can be romantic I.e it’s his child, or it can be platonic, I.e the reader is his close friend.) I just thought it would be a cool idea!

For real… why do one when I can do both! Demisexual romantic Alastor in the buildinnggg~! Let’s see how Al handles this!

Alastor- Fresh Meat

Platonic

Well… this is very awkward. Alastor finding out that you’re pregnant

Alastor will buy you cute presents for your baby: clothing, toys, a pram. Anything he can, he may be uncomfortable by the fact you’re carrying a baby but he’d be a moron to just not help you

Alastor wonders what name you and your partner will give the baby and he gives you ideas whenever you two hang out

Alastor refuses to let you move too much. First week or the last month, he’ll get something like a trolley or a carriage to push you in so you can relax and not stress your body out

Alastor will fold into your food cravings. If you want Jambalaya, he’ll cook it whilst you’re over. Anything he can do to make you more comfortable, he actually cares about it and your baby’s comfort— he totally doesn’t just care for you to shut about wanting potato salad

Alastor lets you stay with him when you have an irrational moment with your partner and need somebody to vent to. He is right there and he’ll be your rock, he is your bestie after all

Alastor congratulations you and your partner for the baby and he gives you three presents regularly. Just like before you gave birth, he is doing it again and it’s his rewards for the baby coming out. He is happy for you!

Yes, Alastor attended the Gender Reveal party you and your partner threw and was basically the first person there and the last person to leave, and he was the one keeping everybody under control. Thankfully, Angel Dust didn’t shoot the fireworks that could have blown up the house or set the house on fire. He is protective over you, your partner and your upcoming baby

Alastor wants to meet the baby. Please, let him visit you first and don’t invite anybody else. Let him come over and meet the baby, he needs to. He wants to hold them and see what you have pushed out

Romantic

Alastor banged you one time… and now, you’re carrying his baby?! As much as he is so shocked and amazed by it, he is actually quite afraid of it and isn’t exactly ready to be a father

Alastor can’t stop himself from also folding into the fact he has a baby in your oven and he’ll just lay his head on your growing baby bump and kiss it, feeling the kicks of the embryo and just holding your swollen stomach with his heart swelling with pride

Alastor is guarding you so damn fiercely. You’re not going anywhere alone, no matter what stage of your pregnancy you’re in, you require proper protection and he will make sure you don’t even go down the street without him right next to you

Alastor loves cooking for you and he refuses to let anybody else feed you. He knows what you like and basically all of his food can actually go down with you. It’s wonderful

Alastor is already envisioning the baby boy or baby girl you’ll push out eventually. Will they have his deer features? Will they use voodoo when they grow up? He is so curious and when he sees the ultrasound pictures, he dies a second time

Alastor basically acts like your eager little servant. He’ll rub your shoulders if your back is sore, he’ll carry you around if you’re tired, he’ll bend over backwards to make sure you’re happy. The second you want to cry, he’ll kiss and cuddle you to calm you down

Alastor is quite good at handling your irrational and emotional states. He’ll just rock his baby mama and his baby until they fall asleep after either are having or about to have or had a temper tantrum, and like that. His loves are knocked out like a light

Alastor is freaked out when he sees you using Voodoo magic… it must be the baby! He is so amazed and he just watches it everytime you summon a black tentacle to pick up a water bottle left on the counter

Alastor is a man of control and controls himself very well… but the moment he is allowed into your hospital room and is given your and his baby by the Nurse, freshly after you have given birth to him/her. He cries. The Radio Demon openly cries and he cries with so much pride and joy at how cute the baby boy/baby girl is!

Alastor cannot put the baby down when he has him/her in his arms. He loves him/her so much and he loves you so much. He may have been afraid to be a dad and he is still afraid to be a dad but he can’t reject the life he and you produced and he is so in love with him/her already…

[idk6123]

Puppeteer The Puppeteer (Homelander X Male Reader)

With The Seven constantly being on the hot seat, Homelander only wishes one thing during days like these, control. He wishes there were a way The Deep do less dumb stuff. He wishes A-Train wasn’t some junkie that relies on drugs to use his powers. He wishes he could actually trust Starlight. He wishes Queen Maeve actually would listen to him and stop hating him. He wishes Translucent was still alive. He was fine with Black Noir.

With the lack of a member, he wishes someone more reliable to have in the team. Someone that meets all of his requirements, strong, obedient, trustworthy, basically everything that lacks with his current team. Thus, he got Ashley to scout for potential heroes.

“…And by doing this, we will be keeping up with the trend for more inclusivity.”

Homelander frowns and drops the information file on his desk. “You really think someone blind and in a wheelchair would fit the team?”

“She may be handicapped, but she’s strong. Besides, we never had a handicapped person in The Seven.”

“True, but we do have one in the PR team.” Homelander ruthlessly comment. Without even looking at the offended Ashley, the blonde looks through the files of how he finds interestingly enough to take even a peek.

“Luckily, we many other candidates. I’m sure we can reach a compromise-” Homelander drops the files on the side. Then he gestures to Ashley to give him the files she’s holding. She’s quick to give it to him, making him to look again. “We have plenty of strong heroes who will make the public-” She then stops talking when Homelander stops browsing to look at one file in particular. Judging by his face, he found his new hero. “Who’re you looking at?”

With a satisfied smirk, Homelander continues to look through the file. “We got our new member.”

-

“I highly advice to not get him.” In the hallway, Ashley is following Homelander, who’s meeting his new teammate. “He just made his break as a hero. He only got 11 followers on Instagram, most of them being family members. He caught only 2 burglars. He’s an introvert and I’m not surprised he only leave the house to do grocery shopping. The only good thing is that he’s gay, but I got 100 gay guys on my list.”

“I don’t care about them. I want him.” Homelander insist. He doesn’t stop walking. Not even looking at Ashley as he talks. “And if you’re going to have trouble having him good PR, that is your problem.” With that, Homelander enters his office, with Ashley following him with stress.

Inside of the office, Homelander is quick to see the young man, who looks a bit nervous. He stands up to give his new boss a nervous smile. “It’s an honor meeting you, sir.”

Homelander accepts his hand, smiling back at him. “Please drop the formalities. Please treat me like you treat your friends.”

After introductions, Y/N sit back on his seat, while Homelander is sitting opposite of him. Ashley is standing at the side, wondering what her boss is up to. “I have to say, I’m quite surprised I received a call. I just started all of this, and I’m already being recognized by The Seven.”

“There is a reason for that.” Homelander shows a kind smile. “You got a gift like no other, Y/N. “I never seen a telepath that has such potential like you have. I know you’re an amateur right now, but I can see in front of me a hero that will save millions of lives.”

Y/N blushes a bit, didn’t expecting to receive so many complements from his idol. “T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you don’t mind, I would like to see you demonstrating your powers. I want to see how good you are right now.” Homelander requests. “I want you to tell me something embarrassing of Ashley.”

Ashley looks alarmed, with Y/N being taken a little aback. “…I don’t use my powers on people casually unless necessary.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine with it.” Homelander brushes it off. Although not wanting it, Ashley merely forced a painful smile. “Besides, considering this is about your future, don’t you think it’s necessary?”

Y/N knows things seems off, but this is ones in a lifetime chance. So, he uses his powers. Within a second, his face looks disgusted. “What kind of BDSM shit are you in?”

Homelander looks amused as Ashley looks even more embarrassed. “I don’t even need her to confirm it that you did it.” He then leans over. “Now for my final request. I want you to use your mind control power, take over Ashley’s mind and do something ridiculous in the hallway.”

“Wait-!”

Before Ashley could beg for Y/N not to, he did, though he feels a bit guilty. Her entire face only shows some hollowness. As she walks to the hallway, Homelander smirks and stand up. Both men get out of the hallway to see what’s going to happen. There, Ashley stands in the middle of it, with people passing by, not knowing what is going to happen.

“Attention! People! Attention!” Every worker in the hallway looks at her. “I need to confess something! Yesterday, we had a party back at my house, but I didn’t invited most of you. I want to apologize for sleeping in front of some of you and I was advised to go to the doctors.” Every worker frowns at hearing her. “I also want to apologize for the… ‘bathroom’ incident. I shouldn’t drink that much, and I got karma for it. I puked over some of you… and I’m sure you also saw me shitting in my pants at the same time. Again, I’m apologize, and I’m hope we can work normally from now on.” With that, she walks away. When she’s gone from the scene, Y/N let go of her mind.

Homelander looks proud at him as he put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Congratulations teammate. You’re in.”

-

Somehow, Ashley managed to create a story surrounding the new Seven member. Y/N apparently helped Homelander during a mission as a rookie, without knowing the big hero were there. Because of it, Homelander took the newly hero under his wing and train him. The whole spin is basically a sidekick and coach relationship, which worked well for the public.

Right now, it’s the first interview for the new hero. As he awaits in the lounge room, he nervously thinks through the interview, playing it in his mind. Homelander walks in, knowing Y/N is stressing.

“You don’t look too good, buddy.”

“…I never got interviewed before, that’s all.” Y/N nervously steps on the ground. “Especially not one at national tv.”

Homelander gives him an assures smile as he walks over to him. “Remember you can just be yourself. It’s alright to be shy. In fact, Ashley would love to represent someone more introverted on the big screen. Just be humble, nice and honest, exactly how we met. Think you can do that?”

Y/N hums. “Yeah. I’m not one for scripts to be honest. But I’m fine lying if it makes you guys lives a bit easier.”

Homelander looks proud. “That’s my sidekick.” He put an arm around the younger man, who looks a bit nervous. “And don’t worry. I’m going to sit right besides you if you need me.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

-

Y/N been accustom quiet well in The Seven. He and Starlight became quick friends. He took training sessions with Queen Maeve. He and Black Noir often spend time together, since both aren’t much talkers. He got stamina training from A-Train. He doesn’t talk to The Deep because he’s currently off the team because he raped someone. Y/N isn’t one to judge people quickly, but he makes an exception with him. That leaves Homelander, who spends the most time with. He helps him train his powers, his fighting moves and helping him PR wise. The boy often views Homelander as his mentor, and comes to him for general life advice, like today.

“I can tell there is something up your mind.” Homelander speaks up as both eat their lunches. “You can talk to me.”

“Well…” Y/N looks a bit uncomfortable. He takes a second for how to phrase it. “…So, I met this guy at security. He’s kinda my first friend that aren’t you guys. But yesterday, he… he asked me out.”

This makes the blonde curious. “Like a date?”

“Y-Yeah…” Y/N replies. “I never had one, so… I’m a bit nervous.”

Homelander smiles, as he thinks through the situation. He’s quick to have a solution in his mind for the new problem. “Want some advice? Just be yourself. He already knows you, so don’t worry about presenting yourself as being social or something. Besides, there is nothing to be ashamed of being quiet.”

Y/N can’t help but smile. “Basic advice, but your right. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

-

Later that day, Homelander got to the guy’s apartment to ‘fix’ the problem. Afterwards, all he had to do is send a text to Y/N the date is off because he wasn’t interested. Knowing the effect he’s going to get; he calls it a day and await for the next act.

The next day, he met with Y/N in the training room, seeing him more stoic then usual. “Everything alright there?”

“…My date bailed on me.” Y/N avoids looking at Homelander. “He said he wasn’t interested.”

“You serious?” Homelander sits down at the side. Afterwards, he gestures his sidekick to sit besides him, which he does. “What a jerk. Are you alright?”

Y/N shakes his head. “…I-I was really looking forward for it. I thought, maybe now I’m in The Seven, it’s fine to be the quiet guy… but it looks things hasn’t changed a bit.”

Homelander put an arm around Y/N, scooting him a bit over to him. “Don’t be ashamed. I know you’re an amazing guy. You’re kind, polite, honest and a hard worker. If he called the date off, that is his loss, because any guy is lucky to be with you.” With that being said, he put his other hand on Y/N’s knee, making the man blushing a bit as Homelander’s face is so close.

“Y-You really think so.”

“I don’t think so. I know it.” Homelander smiles warmly. “Think you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” Y/N smiles. “I’m going to be fine.”

-

Some days later, Homelander invited Y/N to his room. Once there, he sees the blonde holding a bottle of champagne alongside two glasses on the table.

“Since you did so well last mission, I thought we should celebrate.” He opens the bottle, as a pop sound comes from it. With a smile, he tempts Y/N to drink, which he does.

With both men smiling, they drink the champagne from the glass as they sit down. Homelander is proud of his sidekick, now finally being stand on his own. Last mission, Y/N managed to mind control 10 people at the same time. Without even getting someone hurt, he successfully removed some terrorist who would’ve ended innocent people’s lives.

“Just imagine what you can do in the future. Wouldn’t be great if you could do, let’s say, 100 people?”

“I had already trouble doing with 10.” Y/N laughs. “It’s going to be a while before I can do even 20. That being said, it’s all thanks to you. You saw the potential in me and helped me achieve it.”

“You’re welcome. I know talent when I see it.” Homelander smiles. “And I know you’re only to get better from here out.”

“I feel like that too.” Y/N sounds hopeful.

“And I continue train you. …But I have something to confess to you. I have an ulterior motive.”

Y/N is curious. “Really? What’s it?”

“Well…” Homelander avoids looking at him. “When I first saw your file, I knew you were going to be a great member, and I was more then happy to help you. But as I spend more time with you, I grew more attach to you. Not as a teammate, or a friend, but as someone who cares for you.”

Y/N looks a bit stunned. “…You mean as a partner?”

Homelander looks back at him. “Nothing would make me happier to have you at my side… as something more then a friend.”

“W-Wow…” Y/N continues to look startled. “…I-I never expected this.”

Homelander smiles. “It’s alright. Take your time.”

“I… I would be very happy to be your boyfriend.”

With a wider smile, the hero leans in and kisses Y/N, who nervously kisses back. Both of them being gentle with the other. It was short, but it was sweet, something what the blonde was going for. After the kiss, he put his hand on Y/N’s cheek.

“You look so beautiful. I’m very happy to have you at my side.”

-

The next day and the big hero wake up in his bed. His eyes quick to look at the side to see Y/N lying next to him. His front is facing towards him. With a wide smile, Homelander get on his side to carefully hug Y/N, who’s face is now against his chest. The new recruit mutters something.

“Y/N?”

But it appears he’s still asleep. The blonde then looks pass Y/N’s head. As he continues to smile, he knows he got what he wanted. To have someone’s loyalty, now in the form of love. And to make it better, have someone that is powerful. With his powers, Homelander can use his telepathic abilities to get any information instantly and control someone’s mind without any problem. Sure, he needs to mold his lover to do what he wishes, but if he continues to be patient and dedicated to his project, things will turn out very well.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Ah 👅🤭 Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll for its corresponding message on how YOU 🫵🏾 can achieve a Hot Girl Summer this year.

Paid Readings | Botanica | Tip Jar

Pile One 🔥

I have the feeling that you’re coming out of this stage of ruminating over the things that don’t make you feel the best. Even if it’s not a strong sign yet, what’s working for you behind the scenes is that the universe is basically telling you “it’s okay to stop crying for now because it’s time to enjoy yourself”. Your hot girl summer is about doing things in moderation. Knowing when it’s time to save, and also when it’s time to spend. Knowing when you need alone time to sit with your feelings, and when it’s time to give that a rest. The word “hibernation” is significant, which makes sense because there are a lot of themes revolving around what you consider home. Maybe you guys are changing your residency or are feeling stuck energy in your house. Even if you can’t do your entire house, find one room that you can renovate to your liking and comfort. Finding inspiration for how to decorate this spot for you on pinterest could be extremely helpful. Making a consistent effort to read more books is something that would benefit you, if you don’t know where to start, read about Feng Shui or look up credible articles about it. Choose the genre that interests you the most, but what I see for people in this pile is that foreign philosophies and anthropology would fuel some life into you. Some of you could feel more fulfillment in being a homebody this summer, so it’s important to make your home as comfortable as possible. For others, where you stay just isn’t capable of being what you need it to be, so this summer will be about finding what feels like home to you by going out to find a place to frequent. To be specific, there could be a shopping center that’s recreational, and is a safe haven for creatives, small business owners, and plenty of spots to host different events that give you the opportunity to meet people and start genuine connections with. To make this a hot girl summer, you have to put yourself out there when it comes to dedicating commitment to yourself. In the past you could have envied others on social media who always seemed to make the most out of their life, but you must understand that you can do that too, but it requires you to search and take action. Look up festivals that could be happening in your city, learn how to crochet, go to that karaoke session at that indie coffee shop, learn how to bake or cook, or turn your room into a movie theater by going on a marathon of watching new movies and TV shows. Work with your imagination to propel you forward. Spiritually, it would be a good investment for some people in this pile to start setting up their altar, start with a color that you feel vibrates your soul at the moment then think about the things that symbolically represent figures in your spiritual team. Keep in mind that your altar doesn’t have to be a castle, your guides appreciate your intention the most. Create a private space for mood boards specifically related to how you want your home to be, make it personal, descriptive, and intentional as possible with the pictures you use and watch how it will manifest one by one like a bingo card.

Pile Two 🔥

Your hot girl summer is about rebellion. Do things outside of the norm of what you usually do. I’m hearing “control it!” lol, you guys are getting a boost in your sensuality, realizing how potent your sexual energy is, but learning what’s the best way to embody it and what pleasures you the most, but always make sure that you are protected. Taking tantric, pole, or even samba dancing classes or could be invigorating for you, but also having the confidence to wear the clothes you’ve been envisioning yourself in, which doesn’t have to mean showing more skin, but anything that relates to freedom and not feeling insecure about your body. Stretching your body, swaying your body, exercising your body, and nourishing it with foods that are both healthy oriented and guilty meals that you’re craving. Avoid things and people that hold you back. If you’re around fickle people who constantly talk about things they want to do with you until it’s actually time to start initiating plans to hang out, don’t let them slow you down and doing things by yourself, because you more than likely will enjoy it more without their presence while also meeting new people who are more reliable and match your enthusiasm. Form healthy relationships with substances and never feel like you need alcohol or drugs to have fun or to make yourself more appealing. Traveling to caribbean islands or even meeting caribbean folk will be positively life changing for you. Sun bathing and resting outside or taking daily walks will energize you especially on your days where you are in need to get out of a sluggish mood. Give yourself permission to be spontaneous, but always remember that spontaneity doesn’t mean to put your life in danger. Time may feel surreal for you, so if you procrastinate on things like buying that ticket to that music festival, picking up that seasonal job, or deciding to take summer courses for your education or to help amplify your talents, take that chance because it will save you from that eerie fear of missing out and it will be worth it. I get the feeling that you don’t take enough pictures of yourself or you could feel taking videos or pictures make an experience more lackluster, but the key for really everything that you plan to do this summer, is to not indulge. Take pictures of yourself because you have a gorgeous face that deserves to be captured, and take pictures to encapsulate memories so that you can positively reminisce on how you conquered this summer. Spiritually, take a visit to a new metaphysical shop. Learn how you can utilize herbs into your diet or for your wellbeing, or even to aid in any conjuring that you feel called to do. Group work is important, if you can, try going on a spiritual retreat. For more attainable options, participating in group sound baths or beach yoga sessions will suffice too.

Pile Three 🔥

It looks like you guys are trying to be off the grid. Like NO Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, or Tiktok presence and you know what, I respect it. Having a Hot Girl Summer is about what you unapologetically make it and the best way for you to express yourself and show up for yourself. I’m already seeing your exhaustion with certain connections that are both in your present and in the past and I completely understand why you’re just not feeling people right now and you don’t have to be in everyone’s face to be seen and perceived. What you can do to make this experience more livelier for you will probably ignite an adrenaline rush in you. I keep getting this visual of people dressing up in superhero costumes or wearing a mask, like a Batman helmet for instance. I know that’s random, but that’s the energy that I get from you guys and I dig it. I can see you guys benefiting from wiping out all of your social media accounts, but still unintentionally getting attention for it? However, at the same time, your identity could be concealed for your privacy, probably thanks to your social media accounts. I’m seeing this ebb and flow of being far away from people like temporarily staying in secluded rural or forest area to do hiking, mountain climbing, and something with a lot of swimming, maybe even scuba diving for a month, then one month you’re out going to crazy parties or events where no one knows exactly who you are but are fascinated with the vibe that you portray. Maybe you actually do wear masks (or sunglasses!) There's also something about the night life being significant for you too, like you’re more nocturnal, this could also mean that you need to be careful with your sleeping patterns and try your best to be consistent with how much sleep you’re getting and the quality of it. This independence is going to attract a lot of admiration from strangers and even people that you know personally. It seems like your Hot Girl Summer is about respecting your phases in how much you want to partake in the social scene and how much you withdraw to invest into your self-concept and shadow work about themes that play out in both your good and bad relationships. This pile is also for my content creators, it’s really time to get into your bag and work on your craft with more effort and regularity. Writing is significant as well as returning back to what your mission is. There is something that you want to convey out for whoever who needs it, this could be personal, self-help tips for others, awareness about environmental issues, or just finally writing and publishing that book. Keep going with it because this summer is your time to shine and get recognized for your efforts. Spiritually, meditation is going to be your best friend, you need a lot of quiet time for your mental health and also some space to release some stress.

[doughguts-art]

What is your stance on the "Elsen is one guy who cloned himself a bajillion times" comment from the 15th anniversary livestream

My stance is that I respectfully disagree (for lack of a better term). Since “all elsens are clones of one person” wasn’t ever stated/explored in-game, I find it more fun to explore other Elsen origins for my projects instead. Mortis Ghost has also said in the past that people are welcome to play fast and loose with lore, and that’s what I was doing before I was ever introduced to the clone discussion. It’s easier for me to ignore that newer addition than to overhaul my original ideas, so that’s what I’m doing. I have no issue with people who decide to use that lore for their own works, but it doesn’t apply to mine.

With that being said, what’s MY lore for Elsen? For me, Elsens as we see them in-game are the result of 3 things:

Human’s evolution after the “apocalypse”. Elsens are what Humans are in the far future, as the lingering effects of the apocalypse (cough cough radiation) changed the very essence of what Humans are from the past.

Hugo’s influence as a “god” of this world. What we see is what Hugo specifically makes, so Elsens are the cartoony square-headed humanoids because that’s what we are made to perceive by Hugo.

The Batter’s/Protagonist’s perception. They all look the same because it is just easier for them to look the same. It is unnecessary for them to look any different than each other to the Batter, so we barely see any differences.

In my games, “Tiny Terror” and “Project GoldFinch”, the Elsen are more visually different than the original OFF’s because they are not filtered through the Batter’s practical lens. Non-important NPC Elsen are intended to have more variety, because they are supposed to be more individualized than what the Batter saw. Now I can’t say “everyone’s different” because I think I’d die if I had to make every NPC unique, but I’m trying to change up certain details so you’re not just talking to the same Elsen in a dress-shirt and tie.

“So, that’s how they look, but how are they made, if not cloning?” Glad you asked, I have a few explanations that usually (but not definitively) depend on which Zone they reside in!

The Zone’s Minimum Quota: Each Zone has an undefined number of Elsens that have to exist within it. There can always be more than the set number, and there usually is in any given Zone, but if a death of an Elsen would mean going under, then a fully adult Elsen will appear in another area once that death occurs. This new Elsen will have a basic knowledge of living, but will have to be taught to do specialized tasks. This is more common in Zone 3 than the other Zones, and it's the reason Enoch’s sugar industry has been sustained for so long.

Cloning (via the Big Elsen in the Room): YES OK I have a cloning piece of my lore too, but it’s not exactly what Mortis Ghost described, so I don’t count it as the same. This version of cloning is heavily inspired by tzalmavet’s idea of the Big Elsen. Sometimes normal-looking Elsens will grow and slough off of the Giant One (that I have dubbed Biggs for my story). Some of these Elsen are kept in the Room, but most are sent to the larger Zones. Unfortunately the ones that are sent away don’t survive for long outside of the Room because of genetic instability caused by leaving and the rapid mutations that results from it. All of the Elsen that come from Biggs are genetically the same despite any differing mutations, and consider themselves siblings. They can identify each other as such even if they are meeting for the first time.

Creations of the Guardians: Guardians can create Elsens if they choose to excerpt the massive amount of energy needed to make one. This was done mostly in the beginning of the Zones, before the Quota was established. It is very impractical to perform now that there are other easier ways Elsen can exist. The creation ritual requires “scaffolding” (usually made of plastic, metal, or meat), and a Guardian to infuse energy into it. The scaffolding + energy will create an Elsen with whatever features and knowledge the Guardian wishes to give them. Japhet was the Guardian who created Elsens using this method the most, which is why he considers the Elsen of Zone 2 his children (even if not all of the Elsen within the Zone are made by him anymore).

The Traditional Way: Elsens can just make other Elsens the same way Humans can make other Humans, though infertility rates are VERY high in most of the Zones. Zone 3 is pretty much completely infertile, it is very rare to see a child in Zone 1, and Zone 2 has the most children with enough to have a small school. Elsen babies grow and mature at the same rate as Humans do.

There are also miscellaneous "Special Cases". Some of my Elsens have unique origins separate from the ones I listed above, but I’d like to save the spoilers for my game to when it comes out, haha!

That's all for now, I hope you found my statement and lore explanation entertaining! I am excited to share more in the future.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Have any ideas on how a spy's job would work? I'm struggling to write about one

Writing Notes: Spy Characters

In the intelligence world, a spy is strictly defined as someone used to steal secrets for an intelligence organization.

Also: agent or asset; a spy is not a professional intelligence officer, and doesn’t usually receive formal training (though may be taught basic tradecraft). Instead, a spy either volunteers or is recruited to help steal information, motivated by ideology, patriotism, money, or by a host of other reasons, from blackmail to love.

From an intelligence perspective, their most important quality is having access to valuable information. For this reason, a government minister might make a great spy—but so might the janitor or a cafeteria worker in a government ministry.

Espionage - process of obtaining military, political, commercial, or other secret information by means of spies, secret agents, or illegal monitoring devices; sometimes distinguished from the broader category of intelligence gathering by its aggressive nature and its illegality.

Double Agent - someone who works for two sides.

Intelligence - In the spying world, intelligence means information collected by a government or other entity that can help guide decisions and actions regarding national security. But intelligence can also mean the process by which that information is acquired

How are spies recruited? Spies are recruited via an approach or pitch by a case officer. This often seeks to persuade the individual through appealing to ideology, patriotism, religion, ego, greed, or love, or sometimes by using blackmail or some other form of coercion. 

How do spies go undercover? Intelligence officers often operate abroad under some form of official cover, perhaps as diplomats in an embassy. Others operate without the protection of their government and must create a convincing cover that explains their presence and activities in a country—a businessperson, perhaps, or a student. The Russians call these officers “illegals,” the Americans call them “NOCs” (for Non-Official Cover). If caught, they’re on their own, and face arrest, even execution.

How do spies communicate?. Face-to-face meetings can be impractical, even deadly—especially if spies are caught red-handed passing or receiving classified information or carrying spy equipment. That’s why sharing information relies on covert communication or COVCOM. Methods include secret writing (such as invisible ink or tiny microdots) or sending and receiving secure messages using special technology (often concealed or even disguised to look like everyday objects).

How much does a secret agent make? Professional intelligence officers receive salaries based on their level of experience, like all government employees. Few own vintage Aston Martin DB5s and order beluga caviar on a regular basis. Spies can earn a lot more money, though. In the 1980s, CIA officer Aldrich Ames received over $4 million from the Soviets for betraying US secrets, enough to buy himself a half-million-dollar home in cash and a flashy red Jaguar. But living beyond his salary aroused the suspicions of US intelligence, which ultimately led to his arrest.

The Intelligence Cycle

Refers to the process through which spy agencies acquire information. It consists of at least 5 stages:  

Planning: Decision-makers task an intelligence agency to acquire information on certain topics or specific issues of concern (“requirements”). 

Collection: This is where the spies, agents, case officers, tech ops, scientists, hackers, and others come in, acquiring information from different sources in a myriad of creative ways. 

Processing: Collected information needs to be narrowed down, prioritized, and put into some kind of digestible format. This might also involve having to decode information. 

Analysis: This is the stage where collected information becomes something useful that decision-makers can use: intelligence.

Dissemination: Intelligence agencies get the final product to the decision-maker or “customer.” Of course, it’s quite possible that this might prompt more questions… and the intelligence cycle begins all over again. 

Tips on Writing About Spies

Some tips from different sources:

Being a real-life spy isn’t always James Bond-glamorous. Spies are typically brilliant when it comes to reading people—your spy character needs to be curious and patient. It may take seven years for a spy to get their footing.

Normal people make the best spies. In real life, handlers are looking for a Regular Joe or Plain Jane with access—they don’t want someone who sticks out in a crowd or whose life is in disarray. They also want someone who is honest and immediately willing to own up to any mistakes they might have made. (Elizabeth Bentley may have had problems with this.) So, having a character who is bland as vanilla (at least on the outside) may work well in your favor.

Your spy could be overheard at any moment. It’s a good idea to have your spy flip on the radio to cover important conversations, or meet in a loud restaurant. (Which also solves the problem of having a potentially bugged apartment.) Even better is to meet near a water feature—the sound of falling water is unique and difficult to filter out even in modern-day recordings.

Spy gadgets are really cool. Ticking off the KGB is not. If your spy character runs afoul of the KGB (or one of its many predecessors), be prepared for creative assassination attempts that may or may not make use of more lethal spy gadgets. (Just ask Bohdan Stashynsky, a KGB officer who used a cyanide spraying spray gun to assassinate two Ukrainian nationalist leaders.) In a pinch, the Russians might resort to a tactic like Leon Trotsky’s ice pick to the face, but either way, it’s not going to be much fun for their target.

You need a good reason to be a spy. Idealists often make the best spies, but there are other motivations that might get your character to join up with the CIA, KGB, or some other spy organization. Does your character need the money being offered? Are they looking for a sense of purpose or belonging? Do they have an axe to grind with the government? Also, remember that the CIA doesn’t coerce people into informing for them. The Russians, on the other hand… Well, they’re a different story. 

Don’t draw portraits of spies, but draw portraits of people who happen to work as spies. The choices they make in their lives emerge from who they are, and those choices might conflict with the requirements of their spy work. The spy’s job may be to suborn friends, lie to adversaries, betray a trust, but it is the spy’s nagging, perhaps inconvenient, humanity that makes them suffer their choices, and excites the reader’s empathy.

Writing Tips: Spy Thriller

A step-by-step guide to writing a spy story with international intrigue and non-stop action:

Think of a killer concept. There are a lot of spy novels out there, so you need to come up with a story that has a new and unique angle. If you’re a history buff and have a specific area of interest—like Russian operatives, Nazi Germany during WWII, or American soldiers in the Middle East—go with where your passion lies. Come up with a fresh idea that people won’t feel like they’ve read before. Do some research. Find inspiration in real-life spy stories to tell yours.

Get familiar with spy tools. From spy cameras to surveillance equipment, the cool tools and gadgets of espionage fiction are part of what makes the genre fun. Get to know spycraft and tradecraft—the technology and techniques real spies use to track the enemy. Read news stories to see how espionage works today or in the time period you’re writing about. While espionage can also be incorporated into another genre, like science fiction, for the most part, spy novels emerge from actual events. That doesn’t mean you need to just use real tools of the trade. Create your own spy tech for your story.

Create an incredible protagonist. From Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan, a CIA agent first introduced in The Hunt for Red October, to Ian Fleming’s most famous secret agent, James Bond, the protagonists of spy stories have long been ingrained in popular culture. Create a main character who readers will root for and who will persevere no matter what obstacle you throw in their way.

Send your character on a world-saving mission. Think about James Bond. His heart-pounding missions crossed international boundaries, and they always involved more than just taking down a bad guy: He always had to stop a massive attack that would kill innocent people. You need to justify the intense action by making the consequences big. To do this, start by coming up with your antagonist. Who are they and where are they from? What is their goal in the story? Once you know that, you’ll have your protagonist’s quest that will propel your plot.

Write highly visual action scenes. Red Sparrow and The Bourne Identity are action-packed films based on bestselling espionage novels. Spy books make great movies because the action translates well to the screen. When you sit down to start your story, think in pictures. Readers are expecting action so you need to lead with a dramatic scene that shows your protagonist at work in a perilous situation. You’ll need a few of these big scenes throughout your story—not to mention the climax which has to be big, suspenseful and, yes, visual. Use descriptive words to get the reader into the middle of the pulse-racing scene.

Use page-turning literary devices. Plot twists, cliffhangers, dramatic irony, foreshadowing, red herrings: When you write a spy novel, you’ll get to employ literary devices you might not have used before. To write a real page-turning story of espionage, make sure you take advantage of the tools that literature has to offer for maximum suspense.

You can also read about real life spies to guide your writing. Some examples:

John Walker (American spy)

Donald Maclean (British diplomat and spy)

Mata Hari (Dutch dancer and spy)

Nancy Hart (Confederate spy)

Audrey Hepburn as a WWII resistance spy

Famous Women Who Were Secretly Spies

Some of history’s most notable spies

List of spies

Some Terminology: Espionage

Agent - A person unofficially employed by an intelligence service, often as a source of information.

Black Bag Job - Secret entry into a home or office to steal or copy materials.

Clean - Unknown to enemy intelligence.

Dangle - A person who is made accessible to a foreign intelligence agency with the intent of being recruited by that agency to then work as a double agent for the person’s own country.

Eyes-Only - A designation signifying who may read a specific, classified document.

False Flag - A deliberate misrepresentation of motives or identity; an operation designed to appear as if it were conducted by someone other than the person or group responsible for it.

Ghoul - Agent who searches obituaries and graveyards for names of the deceased for use by agents.

Honey Trap - Slang for use of men or women in sexual situations to intimidate or snare others.

Innocent Postcard - A postcard with an innocuous message sent to an address in a neutral country to verify the continued security of an undercover operative.

L-Pill - A poison pill used by operatives to commit suicide.

More spy-related terms: 1 2 3

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[jakekazansky]

More thoughts for my juvenile delinquent turned fighter pilot Jake au

Previous post

Jake finishes high school in juvie at 16 cause he was bored and getting his GED was easy

He’s 17 when he starts at the academy cause that sounded better than sitting around juvie for a year til he turned 18

Due to his history and being 17, Jake is assigned to an admiral to go stay with on breaks and check in with since they couldn’t put an ankle monitor on him

The admiral is Sam “Merlin” Wells who over time becomes like a dad to Jake along with his husband slider

Jake isn’t allowed to drive until he’s 18 cause they think he might try to run if given the chance

Before stealing that high performance car at 16, Jake hid his own car at a friends uncles junk yard and paid him all the cash he had and promised to pay him another significant sum of money when he comes back to get the car

The car is a skyline (like Brian drives in fast and furious)

Jake goes to pick it up when he’s 26 (in this au police can no longer search a vehicle after 10 years after a crime is committed (so if he committed the crime in March 14, 2006 he would have to wait til March 15, 2016 to be able to drive the car again without the police being able to search it for evidence) (no clue if this is how crimes and evidence works irl but it’s how it works in my au

So in my mind the ship for this is Beau/Jake cause I imagine Beau being a car guy

They meet at a car meet when Jake is in flight school (Jake is like 21-22)

They end up getting married 3 weeks after meeting (neither knows the other is in the navy but they told each other they both travel frequently for work)

They only find out cause beau is in charge of all the squadrons on the ship doing carrier training and Jake is on that carrier doing carrier training after flight school

Javy and warlock were both at the courthouse as witnesses when Beau and Jake get married

So the big crime that Jake actually does to get arrested at 16 is to steal a prototype car from an event where he pretended to be a valet

What attracts the navy to Jake, is that during the chase Jake uses a homemade EMP device to disable police vehicles en mass which has never been done before as the ones at that time required you to basically ‘lock on’ to another vehicle and could only be used on one vehicle

Essentially, the military want Jake to teach them how to replicate the one he used since Jake destroyed the one he used during the police chase

Jake would roll up to dagger family dinner (mav has the daggers over for dinner every other week or more, sometimes ice is there sometimes he isn’t) with his skyline once he could drive it again, running late

Mav doesn’t allow phones at dinner cause it’s “family time” which is fine by Jake but Jake makes a comment about ‘ how being phone free means his husband can’t bitch about Jake spending $$$$ on new tires’

Ice getting home and laughing cause the neighbors are bitching about Jake’s car cause it’s old and is bringing down their property value

This is the first day Jake is driving his skyline again after getting it back

No one knows about Jake’s history at this point, not even Javy, he just thinks Jake is super in to cars

Thinking about having it be a slight crosser with fast and furious where Brian and Jake are friends but idk for certain yet

[ollieolliewrld]

Welcome to the tumblr writing space! I'm confident you'll do amazing here!

If I may request DMC- and take your time with it -what kind of partner the twins would realistically prefer. Whether it be personality types, deal breakers, what they are willing to compromise for/with, what they expect etc. I'm curious of others takes on these types of things and I'd like to see yours, when you have the time. Whether it's DMC 3 or 5 (or post 5) era, is up to you.

Happy writing! Again, take your time and polish as much as you feel you need to. Have fun!

Love, love, love this! Thank you for the request and the kind words <3 I’ll be taking the DMC 5 and post 5 era but I may revisit this once I finish playing DMC 3 fully!

**This is not a fluff piece it is a bit more serious** 

1.3K words

Dante

✭ Ideal Partner

-Dante’s ideal partner would be someone who has a good understanding of their surroundings

-He’s looking for someone perceptive so that you both share a mutual understanding of situations 

-Basically, he doesn’t want to hold their hand and baby them through life

-If something happens he is going to make sure they are ok but also expects that they will not crumble completely

-Dante has been through hell and back when it’s time for him to settle down he is not playing games 

-He’s a grown man who wants his chance to finally relax

-The cocky attitude he keeps up can get him through a lot but his partner is the one who truly pulls him through it all

✭ Deal Breakers

-Will not put up with tantrums

-He can understand if you get emotional at times, he doesn’t expect you to have it all together 24/7 

-But you cannot throw a fit if something does not go your way

-Dante cannot be everywhere at once and with the state of things there are going to be times when he will have to cancel a date or movie night 

-If you cannot understand that he will not stay

-If he is going to be with someone long-term they need to be understanding of his background 

✭ Compromises

-Dante would not want his partner anywhere near combat unless they have proven to be fully capable

-After that, if you really wanted to he would be willing to let you take on some missions of your own

-He would also compromise if his partner wanted to do very typical couple things

-Like he would get a matching jacket with you or something like that but he would not do anything with writing or graphics

-If you two are going to do something it will be done tastefully and hopefully in red

-Dante wouldn’t have many things he would not compromise on, if he truly wants to stay with you he will make it work and swallow his pride once in a while as long as you are willing to put the work in to meet him halfway

✭ Expectations

-He expects that you have life skills

-You would not need to be a pro at finance or a god in the kitchen but you would need to know how to live on your own

-Dante cannot always be there even though he wants to be and he does not want the additional worry that you are going to explode when he leaves

-His ideal partner would have their head screwed on, not perfect, but able to pick themselves back up when they get knocked down

-He also expects you to support him and be there for him

-There are times when he needs a shoulder to rest on and he would expect his partner to be willing to be that

✭ Must-Have Qualities

-Dante requires someone with a sense of humor

-You need to be able to laugh and understand his jokes

-You would also need to be a good listener 

-He won’t talk your ear off but he needs you to remember what he tells you 

-It would mean a lot to him if you remembered the small things too

-Being sociable/outgoing must be your personality type

-He needs someone who can go out into the world with him and interact

-Yes he enjoys spending time rotting on a couch with you but when you two are out he wants to show you off proudly 

-Having you being confident and able to explore with him is a must

Vergil

✭ Ideal Partner

-Vergil needs a patient lover

-He is not socially inept but he is not extremely experienced in how to lead an average life and relationship

-Ideally, they would be willing to understand what he has been through and all that has shaped him into the man that he is today

-He is a loyal lover who needs someone that will stay with him through it all

-Someone resilient would fit him

-Again, like his brother, he is a grown man he does not have it in him to baby someone through life, you need to be able to stand on your own before he could settle down

✭ Deal Breakers

-He is not messing around

-No one-night stands, no FWB, he is going for the long-term

-It is end game or nothing with him

-If you could not take things seriously he would leave

-Vergil looks at life with seriousness he is not going to be with someone who continuously makes jokes every two seconds

-He is also looking for someone more submissive as in they will follow the decisions he makes without fighting him

-He is willing to take the time to explain why he made the decision but he will not take the time to go back and forth with you when he knows what the right thing to do is

✭ Compromises

-Vergil can be a little too serious at times and forgets to relax

-He wants to get things done the right way and will lose himself to his work

-Being with someone who can let loose and live would be a change in pace for him but he would be willing to compromise 

-As long as everything is handled he could spend time with you having fun

-It is very hard for him to let go of his control as he wants to be constantly motivated However, learning to take a step back and take a breath is not going to throw all of his work out the window

-Once he sees that you could slowly work him up to the very mundane aspects of life like reading a book at the beach together

✭ Expectations

-He expects you to be willing to work with him

-As I have been saying, you need to be patient with him

-Vergil is willing to learn and change but he has his own problems he is working through

-Life has not been kind to him and he will be open about that so he would expect that you do not hold that against him

-Any mistakes he makes are not done to harm you, they are done because of a lack of experience 

-He is not in tune with his emotions and has a hard time expressing his feelings as well as picking up on yours

-Hopefully, you would be able to work with this and understand where he is coming from

✭ Must-Have Qualities

-It cannot be stressed enough that he is looking for someone patient

-You do not have to be a saint he will be working with you as much as you are working with him 

-He doesn't want you to give up on him

-Vergil is looking for someone who is level-headed, not over-emotional

-He just does not know how to be around someone who can fluctuate in emotions very quickly

-You would need to be intelligent, not like a genius, but able to understand directions and pick up on your surrounding 

-He wants you to be a safe place for him so you being understanding and willing to take the time to get to know him means a lot 

-It will take some time for Vergil to open up to you fully but once he does the man is locked into you and not going anywhere

Author’s Note: I really hope this is to your liking! I would love to hear what you think and if anyone has any opinions of their own! <3<3

I had a blast brainstorming this, thank you for sending in this request!

[born-to-riot]

Idk if this counts as a Drabble but basically it starts as me theorizing an event in Prythian and then turns into ‘what if Azris’

WC: 3,325

(TW: A/B/O, loosely nsfw, talks of breeding, male omegas have cocklets and boypussies).

Okay but hear me out.

I want a Prythian mating run

Make it A/B/O (along with their regular magic powers) (however maybe there’s some traditional powder that participants are required to take so that it dampens their powers and awakens the alpha/beta/omega inside of them)

It’s primal, the lopers start first. Battling each other to find and make the best den and claim territory for them to bring their runner back to once they catch them.

After a while, they catch the scents of the runners filtering throughout the forest. That’s when the game truly begins.

the runners don’t make it easy (usually betas and omegas)

(What’s point of making it easy when you’re strong and want to make the alpha/beta prove they are worthy and can breed you full of strong pups)

(Any second gender is allowed to sign up in any position: runner or loper)

(For example, just last season the alpha prince of Adriata, Varian, shocked Prythian when rumors spread that he signed up to be a runner. The shock multiplied when it was rumored that he was caught by the scariest and tiniest alpha of Prythian, Amren of the Night Court. Legend has it the two came out four days after the mating run covered in blood and scratches but are now inseparable).

It’s all about scent.

Only unmated faes can participate. Think of the occasion like an annual festival to see if two halves of a whole can find one another.

Not every pair who comes together will be mates as an actual mating bond is rare to find (also sometimes the pairs aren’t even the most compatible scent-wise be it alpha athleticism, an omega caught in a trap, or just the luck of the catch) but usually by the time an loper catches an runner, both of their pheromones have their instincts roaring.

But if you are mates or just are the most compatible for one another… oh the mother will let you know. There will be some other force pushing the runner to go faster, there is something that pushes the loper to be more violent about ridding the runner’s trail of other lopers running after the same scent. The closer they get to one another the wetter the omegas cunt gets the heavier an alphas cock, even betas will adjust accordingly depending on whether they are a runner or a loper.

Azris below the cut

Now let’s say Eris enters the race this year as a runner. Years prior he’s been forced by his father to sign up as a loper despite the fact that he’s technecially an omega, which is fine (but dangerous- some fellow lopers would get distracted by his scent and try to go after him. While he always fought them off he can’t deny the inner thrill of the chase) and Some years he’s caught good scents and has even followed some of them, hunted them. Usually though, his interest would fade and he would just return to his den and hang out in his nest until the event was over.

Not this year, this year, instead of just going to the Autumn run, Eris heard a rumor that a certain Shadowsinger would finally be participating in an intercourt run. He hated himself for being weak to the temptation but ever since he felt the other’s scarred hands around his neck Eris’ inner omega can’t fight the fantasy of being knotted by the Illyrian.

Eris doesn’t tell his father that he’s signing up as a runner, of course. He just lets the man know that he is going to try his luck with a wider pool of runners to choose from- which Beron accepted.

There is a gathering before the run, this is where runners and lopers can mingle and familiarize each other with scents that intrigue them. Legend has it that it is at one of these minglings where Thesan and his lover first made contact. Eris goes to this meeting and tries to mingle. He talks to many handsome and beautiful lopers, but he doesn’t feel his cocklet twitch until he makes eye contact with Azriel, who is staring at him from across the room, over the head of the third archeron sister. Elain.

Shit. Eris can’t believe he let himself forget about the newest object of Azriel’s affections. He can’t believe he even allowed himself to hope for just a minute that the Shadowsinger might return his interest. He can’t believe he let himself think that he smelt the other’s cedar infused arousal back when he whispered in his ear at the High Lord’s meeting.

Eris quickly sidesteps so that he’s out of view of the Shadowsinger but he can’t rid himself of the memory of his hazel eyes. Maybe his father was right, he should never be a runner because omegas let their thoughts get clouded by their cunts.

Eris knows he should leave the gathering before Azriel could have the opportunity to spread the word to whatever other members of the Inner Circle that are present. But his inner omega is waging war against him. Give him your scent. We are the most worthy omega in here. Eris isn’t so sure if he agrees with that, but he’s come this far and defied his father by opening up the possibility for a son of Autumn to be caught and bred. He supposes it won’t hurt to give the alpha a reminder of the scent he should be hunting.

So Eris moves, head held high. He walks around the edges of the room, dodging wanting alphas who approach him. He stops once he’s two meters away from the present members of the Night Court Inner Circle, facing the back of Azriel’s wings that separate him from the two ladies in front of him—Mor and Elain. The two female fae are chatting with one another and Azriel is clearly focused on analyzing the room around him— at least Eris assumes so based on the slight movements of the black haired man’s head.

Shining gold twinkles at the corner of Eris’ eye and grabs his attention. He spies a tall spring court alpha adorned in gold jewelry. The male is not Tamlin but he sure is beautiful, Eris can’t help but think. He sees the golden male approaching his direction at the same time Eris recognizes a semi-familiar shadow flitting by him. He has an idea.

Eris waits as the golden alpha comes closer and closer and he makes note that the shadow that was passing by has stilled and attempted to blend in with the natural darkness of the wall nearest to him. Eris feels a smirk form on his face as he thinks about the fact that the Shadowsinger has no idea that Eris knows each and every time the male is watching him.

Finally, the golden alpha gets close enough and Eris purposefully angles himself so that the other will ‘accidentally’ knock into him. The plan goes accordingly and soon Eris is letting out a pointed gasp as the Spring Court Alpha catches him by the waist with an apology. Eris laughs then, purposefully emitting his toasted maple and almond scent as if he was truly embarrassed. Eris waves the golden alpha away, smiling as if he wasn’t disgusted by his musk of freshly cut grass, and calmly readjusts his blazer before walking towards the exit of the gathering. It’s not until after he takes two steps out of the door that he hears footsteps behind him and sees a shadow in front of him that mimics the lines of the familiar pair of wings that never seem to escape his mind.

“Why hello Azriel,” Eris says, pausing his movements, listening as the footsteps get louder as the Shadowsinger approaches him from behind. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I think I should be saying that to you,” Eris can’t help but bite back a keen as he smells the other’s cedar aura. Azriel grabs him by the waist—his hand covering the exact same spot where the Spring Court alpha had held Eris earlier— and turns him around to face him. Eris is proud of himself for maintaining an unimpressed expression on his face as he feels his cunt clench around nothing.

Eris tries not to show how much Azriel affects him, he tries not to cry as the Shadowsinger releases him and puts his hands back in his pockets. He tries to convince himself that he isn’t desperate for this alpha to chase him tomorrow, to accept his challenge, to want him.

“Are you a runner or a loper?” Azriel asks, surprising Eris as the Autumn Court male was expecting some sort of snarky comment that is typical of a member of the Night Court when it comes to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eris smirks in a manner that he knows irritates the other, hoping for Azriel to let out more of his scent.

“I’ve heard you usually spend your mating run in Autumn as a loper… that you haven’t…” Azriel trails off, his scent growing stronger as he completes the sentence internally. Eris takes a step closer to Azriel.

“That I haven’t taken anyone back to my nest? That I haven’t been bred yet?” He asks, “What is it Azriel, what have you heard?”

What do you want, alpha? Eris shushes his inner omega.

“I’ve heard you’ve chased hundreds of runners but none of them have satisfied you enough to finish the chase.”

Eris spies Azriel gulp and his wings twitch as he says so.

“What you’ve heard is true,” Eris admits and shivers as he senses Azriel’s cedar musk grow stronger. He feels his own inner omega screaming inside of him, begging him to let out his own maple and almond in response. He feels heat pooling in his stomach and he knows he needs to exit this conversation soon before his inner omega takes over completely.

“Are you running?” Azriel asks, stepping even closer to Eris. Eris glares at him, hating that Azriel’s curiosity is feeding into his inner hope that the male might be interested in him.

“Maybe, not that it should matter to you with the remaining Archeron sister in the mix,” Eris crosses his arms over his chest.

“It doesn’t matter to me, I just want to know,” Azriel insists. Eris rolls his eyes. Liar.

“Okay Shadowsinger, whatever you say,” Eris nods at the other and starts to walk off towards his tent, trying not to get his hopes up.

“Eris, wait!” Azriel calls out to him, causing Eris to pause.

“Yes?” He asks, turning around to face the other who hasn’t moved from has spot.

“I…” Eris feels more heat pool into his core at the growl of frustration that Azriel lets out.

“I fucking hate you, but I need to know,” Azriel sounds a mix of conflicted and determined. That is more than what Eris was expecting so he’ll take a win where he can.

“The only thing I will tell you is…,” Eris starts as he approaches Azriel, figuring this is his best chance to let the other know his intentions. Almost as if the Shadowsinger is in a trance he takes a couple steps forward to meet Eris, bringing the two chest to chest. Eris is taller but Azriel is wider with muscles and his wings.

“Hmm” Azriel hums, prompting him. Eris watches as Azriel removes his hands from his pockets and starts to clench and unclench them.

Tell him, his inner omega encourages. Eris knows this is his only chance to get what he wants. If he were to get caught by another loper, not mate him, and his father finds out Eris knows he will never be allowed to participate in another mating run again unless it’s in Autumn and he is loping.

“I’m tired of being empty, Azriel. I want pups, I want a partner, I’m tired of pretending I’m not interested in you,” Eris ignores how Azriel widens his eyes in surprise and continues before he loses his courage, knowing he would be executed by his father if the man ever found out Eris was so weak to his instincts.

“I know what I smelled in that High Lord’s meeting, your hands were around my throat but your alpha was in your eyes and he was daring me not to disobey. I could smell that you wanted me and I can tell that every time you’ve looked at me since you’ve been thinking about it,” Eris sniffs as he feels a tear coming to his eyes, he knows his dream is impossible but he also owes himself one last chance to see it through.

“Remember my scent, Azriel,” Eris shakily reaches out for one of Azriel’s scared hands and takes it into his own, ignoring how his inner omega screams in delight at the contact. Azriel doesn’t resist as Eris brings the shadowsinger’s wrist up to his neck and rubs it against his scent gland before releasing it. He briefly eyes how Azriel’s wings seem to spread wider around the two of them, almost like he’s trying to block Eris from the sight of anyone who may walk by. Eris refuses to get his hopes up, even as he notes how carefully Azriel brings his now-scented hand back to his side.

“Do know, Azriel, if you decide to try and catch me, I won’t make it easy for you. If you successfully catch me, I’ll try to break loose and force you to catch me again. If you give me no other options but to submit to you, I will never let you go. I don’t give second chances, I can’t afford to,” Eris’ amber eyes stay locked on Azriel’s returning hazel gaze, “I refuse to settle for anything less than what I deserve and do not think I will wait for you if some other alpha proves to be stronger.”

Azriel alpha lets out a growl at that statement. Eris ignores the surprise that blinks into Azriel’s eyes at his own reaction and he takes a step back so he can communicate his thoughts clearly—he also begs his inner omega to shut the fuck up about how badly Azriel’s alpha clearly wants them, Eris knows that hope only leads to disappointment. However, Eris also knows that he can’t afford to have any regrets here, so he must finish his piece.

“Think about what you want, Azriel. Don’t let your guilt or loyalty influence your decision. I will say this only once: I refuse to be your back-up option, if you come after me, you better want me.”

With that Eris turns around before Azriel can say anything or shift his expression in response to Eris pouring out his soul for the other to see. He quickly walks away, trying to ignore the eyes he can feel boring into his back as he does so.

That night in his tent Eris weighs the merits of following through with running. The mating run is about lopers chasing the most compatible scent. It’s a bloody affair, lopers often fight each other if they sense another alpha on the path to their runner of desire and even once the loper catches a runner any respectful runner will fight back and make them work for it.

The pre gathering is often a time for lopers and runners to first get familiarized with some scents so they can maybe find one they want to chase the next morning. If he is being honest with himself, Eris is a little embarrassed at how much weakness he showed Azriel in admitting he wants the other to consider him. But Eris also is someone who isn’t afraid to go after what he wants and he knows that realistically this is his only chance. Also he knows that Azriel’s family has probably planted doubts in Azriel’s head so Eris needed to make sure the other saw him as a possible mate.

As Eris lays down to sleep that night, he imagines how tomorrow could go if Azriel decides to choose him. The lopers would get up earlier and paint themselves in their chosen ritualistic symbols from their courts and that represent themselves. The runners would all gather behind the lopers as they line up to race into the forest, ready to compete to find and make the best den before the runners begin. Maybe if Eris is lucky, Azriel will give him a sign that he’s made his decision, that he is going to be coming after him. If that’s the case then Eris knows he won’t be able to stop his cunt from releasing juices as he bathes himself in preparation during the dedicated time while the lopers are in the forest and building dens. Eris would wait with the other runners once he was done, strategizing and planning against possible traps and obstacles that will be in his way. He knows he has an advantage as the heir of Autumn, even if the special powder they take dampen his powers, he grew up jumping from tree to tree along with all his siblings. Eris knows his inner omega will be singing and he will happily take a backseat once it’s finally time to run. He trusts his omega to guide him where to go and he trust in his own strength to keep him safe.

Eris knows he smells good, maple and almonds make a lovely mix and he knows his inner omega won’t be able to stop radiating his scent like a beacon. Eris is only interested in one alpha, and the powder doesn’t affect his wings as they are additional limbs. So he knows if Azriel comes for him, he would come from above. Eris imagines hopping from tree to tree staying under the cover of leaves. He imagines being stuck at one point, up high, the next tree too far for him to make the leap and a crowd of drooling alphas waiting for him to fall. He imagines Azriel finally swooping in and growling at them all, taking care of them viscously. Eris knows his cunt would be dripping at the sight but he also knows that he couldn’t watch he’d have to keep moving.

Eris doesn’t know how Azriel would finally catch him but Eris knows that he’d fight with every fiber of his being, he’d want Azriel to prove that he wants him, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to claim him, that he’s strong enough to father their pups. He knows that his cunt will be throbbing once he finally submits and he hopes Azriel will take a moment to taste him before he flies them to his den.

Eris imagines that Azriel would probably set up his den in a cave on a mountain, higher than other alphas, easy to defend and probably close to a water and food source. He imagines that Azriel would be thoughtful and supply the cave with nesting materials for Eris to use once he brings him there.

Eris doesn’t even want to imagine what comes next as he knows the idea of Azriel breeding him over and over and claiming him will give him too much hope.

Eris falls asleep, oblivious to the shadows that occupy his tent, their master not planning on letting his dream omega slip away from him when he finally has a chance to make him his.

____________

OKAY so I wasn’t planning to write all of this, it’s kind of just a story I want to happen but I am too lazy to fully write myself.

But any thoughts?

Also lopers don’t have to kill rival lopers but there’s nothing against it if they do… azriel most definitely will eliminate threats.

(Also this is just an idea, if someone were to write something like this I would spread my legs for them especially if they added smut and gore WOOT)

NVM IM GONNA WRITE IT MYSELF MUAHAHHAHAAHA

[mercillery]

Hi, I read your Frederick/Reader and absolutely fell in love with your writing style. Was kicking my feet type shi😭 If you’re willing to, could you write for Victor Grantz in the same format ? If you do my world genuinely will be complete.

Thanks and have a good one!

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: The way you worded your request was hilarious thank u so much and sorry this took super duper long…consider this my early Christmas gift to you. I hope this is the format you wanted 🥹❤️❤️❤️

Meeting Victor is like trying to pet a stray cat: approach too quickly, and he’s gone before you even say “hello.” He’s a master of the subtle retreat—one second there, the next, poof, like smoke in the wind. Victor’s shy, wary nature doesn’t just make him skittish; it’s practically an Olympic sport. He’s the reigning champion of Avoidance 101.

But don’t worry—if you come at him gently, with no sudden movements and a kind heart, he might cautiously peer out from behind the metaphorical couch. It’s a process though, so buckle up for the long haul. Winning Victor’s trust is less about grand gestures and more about the quiet, unspoken ones.

Want to impress him? Forget the flashy declarations of friendship and instead offer to help him feed the strays or—better yet—silently leave him a little note of encouragement. He’ll find it later, blush like a tomato, and spend three days overthinking how to say “thank you.”

Victor values people who respect his boundaries like they’re sacred artifacts in a museum—look, but don’t touch, unless invited. The tiniest, most understated acts of care leave the biggest impression on him.

Did you pick up a letter he dropped without making a big deal about it? Congratulations, you’re now a recurring character in the cinema of Victor’s mind. He’ll replay that scene like it’s Oscar-worthy, analyzing it frame by frame. “Were they just being kind, or did they pity me?” he’ll wonder at 3 a.m., sandwiched between anxiety and the hope that maybe—just maybe—you actually like him for who he is.

Spoiler alert: Victor is going to assume pity at first. That’s just his brand.

Victor’s idea of initiating a conversation is basically an international diplomatic incident. He’s not one to start talking, because, let’s be honest, that requires bravery, and he’s still working up to being brave enough to ask for extra ketchup at the fast food drive-thru. But once he trusts you and that’s a long journey involving more emotional hoops than the Olympics, he’ll let slip little nuggets of his inner world.

He’ll drop these tiny little gems about himself like it’s a treasure hunt, but you’ve got to be quick, because they’re easy to miss. One day, he might casually mention how a certain flower takes him back to his childhood—cue the mental image of him as a tiny, awkward version of himself, surrounded by daisies.

Another time, he might comment on how people’s faces light up when they get letters, like he’s some sort of professional mail therapist who knows the emotional impact of a good envelope. When Victor opens up, it’s like witnessing a rare bird in the wild—blink and you might miss it.

Victor is not one for blatant hints, because he’s too busy trying to avoid direct confrontation (his skill at this could be rivaled only by the world’s most skilled diplomats). So, no, he’ll never explicitly ask for your company, because that would require him to open his mouth and risk exposing his soft, squishy emotional side.

Instead, his actions do the talking—though they might need a bit of interpretation, so keep your detective hat on. Victor might subtly adjust his delivery route so it conveniently passes by places you frequent. It's almost as if he’s carefully plotting to get within a five-foot radius of you, and hey, who could blame him? Maybe he’s just really into the whole “unexpectedly running into people you know” thing.

Or, if he’s really feeling bold, he’ll linger a little longer when dropping off your mail, as if the mailbox suddenly has some profound existential meaning. If you happen to notice this and casually join him (because you are a good person who isn’t going to let Victor spiral into further awkwardness alone, right?), he’ll be overjoyed—but also extremely flustered, because admitting he wants you around would require him to admit he has feelings. And that, my friend, is a level of vulnerability he’s not quite ready for. But don’t worry, his heart’s doing the cha-cha on the inside.

Victor is a masterclass in the actions speak louder than words school of love. He’s not going to serenade you with declarations of affection or wax poetic about how your eyes sparkle like the morning dew—because, frankly, just thinking about that would make him combust.

Instead, he shows he cares in his own quiet, sneaky way. Mention your favorite tea once, and guess what? He’ll remember it for eternity. He’s got a mental file labeled Your Preferences: Highly Classified that’s better organized than the national archives.

You’ll casually say, “Oh, I’ve been meaning to read this one book,” and BAM—next thing you know, it’s magically in your mailbox with a little note that just says, “Thought you might like this.” And if there’s a stray cat you always stop to pet, Victor will casually start carrying an extra biscuit in his satchel for it.

Let’s be honest, though—if you look hungry enough, that biscuit might end up being for you. It’s basically his love language: tea, books, and snacks.

If you want to make his day, just sit next to him quietly and do something peaceful together. He’s like a houseplant—happy just existing in the same space as you, soaking up the shared sunlight.

Whether you’re tending a garden, reading side-by-side, or helping stray animals, those moments make him feel like he’s starring in his own low-budget indie movie (the kind with no dialogue but lots of meaningful glances).

There’s no pressure to talk, and that’s exactly how he likes it. If he had his way, his life would just be a montage of cozy, quiet activities with you, set to the soft plink of piano music.

Of course, Victor’s social anxiety has a habit of pulling pranks on both him and everyone else. One minute, he’s enjoying your company; the next, he’s retreating like a vampire caught in the sunlight. No explanation, no warning—just poof, gone. It’s not you, it’s him—and his brain, which likes to play a cruel game called Let’s Overthink This Until We Die.

If he avoids eye contact or looks like he’s considering tunneling through the nearest wall to escape, it’s not because you’ve done anything wrong. He’s probably just overwhelmed and desperately trying to remember how humans are supposed to behave. Give him some space, and he’ll come back once he’s convinced himself you don’t secretly think he’s the most awkward person alive.

Spoiler: he totally thinks you think that anyway.

Victor wrestles with an Olympic-level sense of unworthiness, like his brain has its own personal commentator constantly reminding him, “And here we have Victor, doubting his ability to be loved again—10 points for consistency!”

He struggles to believe that anyone could genuinely care for someone like him, especially given his arsenal of awkwardness and insecurities. Seriously, if self-deprecation were a sport, he’d have a gold medal and a sponsorship deal.

But here’s the thing: if you’re patient and reassuring, he’ll eventually start peeling back the layers of his fears. He might quietly admit to his scopophobia (fear of being stared at), his doubts about whether he’s even capable of forming meaningful relationships, or—prepare yourself for heartbreak—his lingering sadness over never receiving a letter addressed just to him. (Excuse me while I cry forever.)

When this happens, please, for the love of all that is good, don’t panic and start shouting affirmations at him like you’re his personal life coach. Victor thrives on calm, gentle reassurance, not pressure or raised voices. Your steady, quiet presence is like emotional chamomile tea to his frazzled soul.

Despite all his self-doubt, Victor is ridiculously perceptive about your emotions, even if he doesn’t always know what to do about them. He’s the kind of guy who notices you’re upset before you even realize it yourself.

Did you sigh a little too heavily or stare off into space for three seconds longer than usual? Victor clocked it. And while he might not be the type to launch into a grand speech about feelings, he’ll wordlessly show his care in his own way.

Maybe he’ll leave a single flower on your desk—no note, no explanation, just there, like a little whisper of “I see you.” Or, if he’s feeling extra sneaky, he might nudge Wick in your direction, because let’s be real: nothing cheers a person up like an adorable animal who’s clearly been coerced into playing emotional support.

One thing Victor absolutely loves is writing letters. And by love, I mean obsesses over to an absurd degree. His letters to you are the perfect blend of poetic and adorably clumsy, like he’s trying to pour his heart out but keeps tripping over the words.

One moment, you’ll be reading something surprisingly profound about how much he values your presence, and the next, you’ll find a sentence where he’s clearly panicked mid-thought and gone with something hilariously awkward. (“Your eyes remind me of… uh… really nice things!”)

But what makes these letters so special is how deeply personal they are.

They’re filled with gratitude for the quiet joy you bring into his life, written in a way that’s so uniquely him you can practically hear him fumbling through each line. Honestly, if love languages were mail-based, Victor would be your number-one postman.

Crowds and Victor go together about as well as oil and water—or Victor and social confidence. But if you casually mention liking something, prepare yourself, because this man will brave the seventh circle of hell (the local market) to get it for you.

Picture it: Victor, sweating bullets, weaving through bustling streets like a man on a mission, clutching his satchel like it’s a lifeline. He’ll return flustered but victorious, the prized item wrapped so carefully you’d think it was made of glass.

His face will be a mix of relief and pride, as if he’s just slain a dragon. (To be fair, for Victor, that is the equivalent.) Don’t be surprised if he brushes off your thanks with an awkward, “Oh, it was nothing,” while secretly hoping you’re impressed by his bravery. Spoiler alert: you should be.

Wick, Victor’s trusty dog, isn’t just a pet—he’s practically a third wheel in your relationship. And, honestly? It’s adorable.

Victor sees Wick as an extension of himself, so when Wick curls up in your lap or adorably gnaws at your shoelaces, that’s basically Victor saying, “I trust you with my soul, but, you know, through the dog.”

The moment you start caring for Wick—feeding him, petting him, or playing fetch—Victor’s heart practically bursts into a thousand sparkly pieces. Watching you with Wick is like watching someone hold a tiny, fluffy version of his heart in their hands. Wick’s antics aren’t just cute; they’re a whole bonding experience.

Honestly, at this point, the three of you are a family. Wick’s the child, Victor’s the awkwardly doting dad, and you’re the incredibly patient parent trying to keep them both in line.

Arguments with Victor are about as common as a solar eclipse: rare, slightly uncomfortable, and leaving everyone a bit disoriented afterward. Confrontation isn’t in his wheelhouse—if there’s tension, his first instinct is to retreat like a turtle into its shell.

If he’s hurt, he won’t blow up or yell; instead, he’ll quietly pull away, letting his mind run a marathon of overthinking. By the time you’ve moved on, he’s still replaying the argument on loop like a bad soap opera. But here’s the thing: Victor is ridiculously introspective.

Once he’s processed his emotions a process that may or may not involve pacing, Wick cuddles, and at least one existential crisis, he’ll write you a letter. And not just any letter—a heartfelt, soul-baring essay on what went wrong, why he feels the way he does, and how much he still values you.

Victor’s ultimate dream isn’t flashy—it’s not a yacht, a mansion, or a five-star lifestyle. No, in Victor’s perfect world, it’s just the two of you, Wick happily trotting at your heels, living your best life of ultimate domesticity.

No loud parties, no awkward small talk, just a quiet house with a cozy garden and maybe a suspiciously large collection of rocks Victor has insisted are “artistic.” The joy of daily routines—making tea, feeding stray animals, and Victor nervously handing you love letters he’s rewritten five times—is his idea of pure bliss. If this man ever proposes, it’s going to involve Wick wearing a bowtie and an “I woof you” sign, so brace yourself for maximum wholesome chaos.

One day, Victor might finally muster the courage to show you his favorite quiet spots. Each one has a backstory that’s equal parts sweet and painfully awkward.

There’s the meadow where he feeds stray animals because, of course, he’s secretly the neighborhood Dr. Dolittle. There’s the stream where he collects smooth stones, claiming they “help him think,” even though he’s just really bad at skipping rocks. And then there’s the old tree. Beneath its branches is a hollow stuffed with letters Victor was too shy to deliver as a teenager.

You’ll probably find one addressed to “That Kind Lady at the Bakery Who Smiled Once,” because he’s been like this forever. And if you’re really lucky, he’ll read one out loud, stammering through every word.

Over time, you become more than just his partner—you’re his anchor, his emotional life raft, and occasionally his human shield in crowds. While Victor still breaks into a cold sweat at the thought of socializing (his personal Mount Everest), your presence helps him step outside his comfort zone.

Maybe he’ll start saying “hello” to strangers instead of just nodding and looking at his feet, or—dare we dream—he’ll manage a full conversation without overanalyzing it later.

Knowing you’ll always have his back gives him the courage to face the terrifying world of small talk and eye contact. And when he’s feeling especially brave, he might even join you in a crowd without Wick acting as his emotional chaperone. Just don’t expect miracles—Victor’s still Victor, after all. But you love him either way, shy or not <3

CHRISTMAS BONUS

Yes, it’s his birthday, but it’s also Christmas, and let’s just say the holiday tends to hog the spotlight like a diva at center stage. While everyone’s busy decking the halls and roasting chestnuts, Victor’s birthday barely gets a whisper. Imagine being handed a gift as a kid and hearing, “This counts for Christmas and your birthday!”—traumatizing, honestly.

As an adult, he’s resigned himself to the overshadowed celebrations, but deep down, it still stings a little. But that’s where you come in.

If you acknowledge his birthday with a small, heartfelt gesture—a handwritten card, a bouquet of winter flowers, or even a slightly burnt homemade cookie—he’ll be so touched he might need to sit down. (Emotionally overwhelmed Victor is a sight to behold—think deer in headlights but with more blushing.)

On Christmas morning, Victor isn’t inside unwrapping presents or sipping cocoa by the fire like a normal person. Nope, he’s outside in the frosty dawn, feeding the stray animals, because of course he is.

When you join him, he won’t make a big deal about it, but his face will light up like a Christmas tree—albeit a very understated one. Without a word, he’ll pull out an extra scarf from his satchel and gently wrap it around your neck. If you thank him, he’ll just mumble something about it being cold, all while his ears turn red.

Wick, meanwhile, will be living his best life, barking like a lunatic and spinning around your feet in an uncoordinated display of canine excitement. Between the wagging tail, Victor’s shy smiles, and the soft crunch of snow underfoot, it’ll feel less like a Hallmark movie and more like a quiet, perfect slice of real life—the kind of moment Victor secretly dreams about but never dares to ask for.

Victor’s favorite part of the holidays isn’t the gifts he receives—it’s watching other people open theirs. Specifically, your gift. While you’re tearing into the wrapping paper, Victor is sitting there, looking like a bundle of nerves wrapped in a sweater, his amber eyes fixed on you with a mix of hope and terror.

His present is always something he’s put way too much thought into: a delicate trinket he made himself, like a pressed flower bookmark or a small wooden carving of you and Wick that probably took him hours. He’ll fidget like crazy as you look at it, practically sweating bullets, and then stammer out something like, “I-I wasn’t sure if you’d like it, but I thought, uh... maybe…”

Here’s the thing: you’d better say you love it. Not just “like it,” but full-on, scream-with-joy love it. Why? Because poor Victor will have spent approximately 400 sleepless nights agonizing over that gift. When you smile and tell him it’s perfect, he’ll just about melt into the couch with relief.

Externally, he’ll nod and mumble, “I’m glad,” like it’s no big deal, but internally, he’s bursting into a fireworks display so sparkly it could rival New Year’s Eve. Wick might sense the mood too and start barking happily, adding to the chaos.

In the evening, as the holiday buzz winds down, you and Victor find yourselves by the fire, sharing a quiet, intimate moment. He’s wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, and his hands are cradling a mug of tea that he’s barely touched because he’s too busy working up the courage to speak.

Finally, he starts recounting a few childhood Christmases. His voice is soft and hesitant, like he’s afraid the words might shatter if he says them too loudly. The stories themselves are simple—a handmade toy from a neighbor, the first time he saw snow—but his eyes glow with such quiet contentment that you can practically see the warmth of those memories written all over his face.

When the fire burns low, the two of you head out for a walk. Snow is falling in soft, lazy flakes, the kind that makes the world feel like it’s holding its breath. Wick, of course, is living it up, bounding ahead and occasionally stopping to sniff a suspicious patch of snow before darting off again.

Meanwhile, Victor stays close to you, his gloved hand brushing yours but never quite daring to hold it unless you make the first move. For once, he doesn’t feel the usual anxiety about being seen. The world could be watching, but with you beside him, it doesn’t matter. He feels safe, as though the snow-covered streets and the warmth of your presence are enough to shield him from everything else.

And if Wick comes barreling back mid-walk, absolutely covered in snow and looking absurdly pleased with himself, Victor might let out the softest laugh you’ve ever heard. It’s rare, like spotting a shooting star, and it fills the quiet evening air with a joy so pure you can’t help but smile.