#he gets into one too many dangerous situations and the other peak lords do in fact put him into a baozi-shaped baby jail

[pippuns]

bb!LQG is too adorable!! Love the way you draw him and the rest of the peak lords (minus SJ) doting on him, and SJ being absolutely ready to square up with a 5 year old. So cute!

bb!LQG is simply too baby. i died multiple times drawing him. truly an undefeated foe.

unless you're shen jiu. in which case you can beat up any child, clear-headed and free of cringe moral quandaries like "what if having beef with children is a bad thing"

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 27

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 27 - This Venerable One Will Cook You A Bowl of Noodles

Chu Wanning felt completely faint.

He blamed himself for being so distracted and unsuspecting on Life-Death Peak. He didn't even notice someone come over.

What was going on? Where did this child come from? His last name was Mo, but Mo. . . what was is again. . . ? Mo Shao? Mo Zhu? Mo. . . Yu?

He composed himself and put on an expression that screamed: "get away". The surprise and panic in his phoenix eyes were quickly masked by his usual harsh and threatening demeanour.

"You—"

He raised his hand out of habit to discipline him, but something suddenly caught his wrist.

Chu Wanning was stunned.

He had been around for a while yet no one had ever dared grab his wrist so casually. For a while, he was frozen in place, not knowing what he should do.

Pull it away and give him a backhanded slap?

. . . It felt like a good word to describe that would be "indecent," like he was no different from a woman in this situation.

Then pull his hand away and not slap him?

. . . Wouldn't that seem like he was being too nice?

Chu Wanning hesitated for a long time and didn't move but the young man laughed: "What's this on your hand? It's pretty good-looking, do you teach how to make stuff like this? Everyone else has introduced themselves already but you haven't spoken yet. Which elder are you? Hey, do you have a headache?"

With so many questions thrown at him, while Chu Wanning's mind hadn't hurt before, now it did.

His mind felt like it was about to split in half. . .

As he got irritated, a golden light in his hand started to glow. When they saw that Tianwen was about to be summoned, the other elders were horrified and moved - Chu Wanning was crazy, right? He would even dare to whip Young Master Mo?

Then, Mo Ran was suddenly holding his hand.

Now Mo Ran had trapped both of his hands. Mo Ran didn't up on the danger of his situation. He pulled him closer and stood in front of him. He tilted his head and said with a smile: "My name is Mo Ran. I don't know anyone here, but just from looking at you, I like you the most. How about I worship you as my shizun, okay?"

This was completely unexpected. The people around them were even more horrified. Several elders gaped with mouths ajar.

Elder Xuanji: "Huh?"

Elder Pojun: "What!"

Elder Qisha: "Oh?"

Elder Jielu: "Uh. . ."

Elder Tanlang: "Hah, ridiculous."

Elder Lucun was the most feminine of the bunch with wavy hair and eyes flooded with peach blossoms: "Ah, this little boy is so bold. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's ass."

". . . I beg you, can you not say something so repulsive?" Qisha said with disgust.

Lucun rolled his eyes gracefully and hummed: "Fine, let me put it more eloquently. He's truly a courageous young man. He might even be so bold as to touch Elder Yuheng's buttocks."

Qisha: ". . ." Just kill him and forget this ever happened.

The most popular of all the elders was the gentle and jade-like elder Xuanji. His techniques were easy to learn, and he was a modest gentleman. Most of the disciples on Life-Death Peak worshipped underneath him.

Chu Wanning originally thought that this Mo Ran would've been just like all the others. If not Elder Xuanji, then it should be the energetic Elder Pojun. It never should have been his turn

But Mo Ran was standing so close to him. His face showed a kind of intimacy and affection that was unfamiliar to him. He was like some clown that was just chosen. It was all so distressing for no reason.

Chu Wanning only knew how to deal with "awe", "fear" and "disgust". Something like "affection" was too complicated.

He didn't even have to think about it. He immediately rejected Mo Ran.

The young man froze. Hidden under his slender eyelashes, there was a sense of loneliness and unwillingness in his eyes. He lowered his head, thought for a second, and unreasonably muttered: "Anyways, I still choose you."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

The Lord was watching with great interest. He piped in with a smile:, "A-Ran, do you know who he is?"

"He didn't tell me, how would I?"

"Haha, since you don't know who he is, why would you pick him?"

Mo Ran was still tugging on Chu Wanning's hands. He turned his head, smiling and said to the Lord: "Because he looks the most gentle and easiest to talk to."

In the darkness, Chu Wanning's eyes snapped open, everything appearing fuzzy.

. . . That was one hell of a scene to see.

He didn't know what the hell was wrong with Mo Ran's eyes back then to actually think that he was gentle. Not to mention that all of Life-Death Peak heard about it. They all sent affectionate greetings to Young Master Mo Ran with looks that said "look at this foolish kid".

Chu Wanning lifted his hand to the corner of his faintly throbbing forehead.

His shoulder hurt, his mind was in turmoil, his stomach was hungry, and his head was spinning.

It seemed like he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.

He fumed on the bed for a while. He sat up and was about to light a stick of incense to calm his mind when suddenly there was another knock on the door.

Mo Ran was outside.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

He didn't answer. He didn't say whether to stay or leave.

But this time, the door opened by itself.

Chu Wanning looked up gloomily. The lit match in his hand hovered in mid-air but never reached the stick of incense. After a while, it went out.

Chu Wanning said: "Get out."

Mo Ran strolled in.

He was holding a steaming bowl of noodles, fresh from the pot.

This time it was a bit simpler. The noodles weren't as fancy. The rich white noodle soup was garnished with chopped green onion and white sesame seeds, small spare ribs, bok choy, and a slightly browned poached egg.

Chu Wanning was incredibly hungry but he didn't let it show on his face. He glanced at the noodles, then at Mo Ran. He turned his face away and didn't say anything.

Mo Ran put the noodles on the table, and gently said: "I asked the inn's chef to make another bowl."

Chu Wanning lowered his eyes.

Sure enough, Mo Ran didn't make this dish himself.

"Eat some." Mo Ran said. "This bowl isn't spicy, has no beef, and no bean sprouts."

After speaking, he left and closed the door for Chu Wanning on his way out.

He apologized for Chu Wanning's injury.

But he could only do so much.

In the room, Chu Wanning leaned against the window, not knowing what to think. He crossed his arms and stared at the bowl of spare rib noodles from a distance until the heat of the noodles dissipated and they grew cold.

He finally walked over and sat down. He picked up the chopsticks, stirred up the cold and soggy noodles, and slowly ate them.

The case of the Chen family's haunting had been closed.

The next day, they picked up the black horses they had boarded from inside the stables and returned to the sect the same way they had arrived.

In the streets and alleys, tea stalls and rice shops, the people of Caidie Town were all talking about the Chen family's affairs.

The not-so-small town had broken out in scandal, one large enough for the townspeople to talk about it for a whole year.

"I didn't expect that Young Master Chen had been secretly married to Miss Luo for so long. Miss Luo is so pitiful."

"If you ask me, if the Chen family hadn't gotten rich, they wouldn't be able to survive this affair. Sure enough, men can't handle their money. Once they have money, only misfortune will await them."

One man was unhappy and said: "This wasn't Young Master Chen's fault. It's his parents' fault. Mr. Chen, that son of a bitch. His children and grandchildren should only give birth to children without assholes in the future."

Another said: "The dead are pitiful but what about the living? Look at Chen Yao, Yao Qianjin. She's the one who's truly been wronged. That black-hearted mother of the Chen family deceived her. Tell me, what should she do now?"

"Just get remarried."

The man rolled his eyes and sneered: "Remarried? Are you here to get married?"

The mud-coated man who was teased bared his teeth and picked at them, grinning: "If that woman at home agrees, I'd marry her. Ms. Yao looks so beautiful, I don't mind her being a widow."

"Bah, the toad wants to eat swan meat*."

(T/N: 癩蛤蟆想吃天鵝肉 - means having unrealistic wishes or expectations)

Mo Ran sat on the back of the horse, ears perked up, listening to all the conversations in high spirits. If it weren't for Chu Wanning's closed eyes, frown, and the words "extremely noisy" essentially spelled out on his forehead, Mo Ran might have wanted to go join the villagers.

They walked together and finally left the main city, arriving at the outskirts.

Shi Mei suddenly gasped and pointed to the distance: "Shizun, look over there."

In front of the ruined Master of Ceremonies Ghost's earthen temple, there was a large group of peasants in brown clothes and shorts. They were busy moving the bricks and stones. It seemed that they were planning to repair the damaged earthen temple and remould the golden body of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost.

Shi Mei said anxiously: "Shizun, the old Master of Ceremonies Ghost is gone but they've made a new one. Will this be cultivated into an immortal body again and do evil?"

Chu Wanning: "I don't know."

"Should we go and persuade them not to?"

Chu Wanning: "The custom of ghost marriages in Caidie Town has been around for several generations. How would you or I be able to persuade them in just a few words? Let's go."

As he spoke, dust flew up from the horse's hoof and he walked away.

It was already dusk when they returned to Life-Death Peak.

Chu Wanning said to the two disciples in front of the mountain gate: "You go to Danxin Hall and explain what happened. I'll go to the Court of Discipline."

Mo Ran looked puzzled: "Why would you go to the Court of Discipline?"

Shi Mei, on the other hand, looked worried: ". . ."

Chu Wanning nonchalantly said: "To receive my punishment."

Although it's said that an emperor commits the same crime as the common people, what emperor would actually have to go to jail for killing someone? The same goes for the cultivation world.

The elders who break the sect rules are as equally guilty as the disciples - in most sects, it's just empty talk.

In fact, if an elder breaks a rule, it was good enough just to write an apology letter. What fool would actually go to be punished with a willow vine or dozens of sticks?

So, after listening to Chu Wanning's explanation, Elder Jielu's complexion turned green.

"No, Elder Yuheng, did you really. . . did you really beat your client?"

Chu Wanning was indifferent: "Yes."

"You're so. . ."

Chu Wanning raised his stare and gave him a sullen look. Elder Jielu shut up.

"According to the law, for breaking this rule, the punishment is two hundred cane strikes, kneeling in Wushan Temple for seven days, and being forbidden from leaving the grounds for three months." Chu Wanning said. "I have no defence, and I voluntarily accept the punishment."

Elder Jielu: ". . ."

He looked around and hooked his fingers, and the door to the Court of Discipline closed with a clang. The surroundings fell silent, and it was only the two of them that stood opposite each other.

Chu Wanning: "What's the meaning of this?"

"Well, Elder Yuheng, it’s not that you don't understand the rules and their consequences, it's just that it shouldn't be something that you should be overly concerned with. This matter is finished. Let's forget it. If I beat you, won't the Lord be angry with me when he finds out?"

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk such nonsense with him and simply said: "I hold people accountable according to the law, and I should also be held accountable myself according to the law."

Kneeling down in front of the hall, facing the plaque of sect rules, he said:

"Punish me."

[liz-allyn]

shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4.4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk

A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.

You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.

Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.

The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.

It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”

You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.

“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”

Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”

He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.

That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.

“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”

“—Time Keepers—”

“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”

He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.

“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”

You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”

“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”

He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”

He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.

“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”

The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.

“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”

“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”

Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”

“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.

You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”

“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”

You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.

Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”

Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.

Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.

Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.

You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.

He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.

“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”

You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.

Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?

“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”

He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?

Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.

You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.

And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.

Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.

You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.

“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?

It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”

You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.

“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”

In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.

“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.

The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.

So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.

And then you felt it.

You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.

“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”

He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.

Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.

He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.

You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.

When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?

Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.

Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.

Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.

What you found was the opposite.

His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:

You were not the one in control here.

You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.

You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.

You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.

His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.

All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.

He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.

He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.

“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”

You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.

You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”

His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.

He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”

The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.

“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”

That ignited his fuse.

He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.

It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.

The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.

This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.

And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.

And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.

You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.

You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.

“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.

Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.

You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.

You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.

When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.

The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.

He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”

“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.

He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.

“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”

“Wha-what?”

“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”

Okay. Now he was overthinking it.

“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.

“I could call you something else—”

“—don’t care—”

“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”

“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”

You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.

He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.

Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.

You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.

He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.

You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.

His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.

You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.

There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.

You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.

“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.

“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.

Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.

“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.

“Say it.”

You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.

“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”

More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”

He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”

Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”

You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.

He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.

This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...

That was....you.

Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.

The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.

For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.

His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.

“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.

“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.

He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”

A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)

THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!

@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait

[tossawary]

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

-

TBC

[resonating-kitty]

Dreambur - Pirate AU fic requested by @peppsta

Using the sentence “You’re too distracting with your handsome face and… your… everything!” (Took a bit of creative liberty to make it work)

I am happy with how this turned out. I've been a bit too critical of my writing lately but I generally like this one. Peppsta I hope this fits what you had in mind with the prompt! :)

I hope you all enjoy!

-

Wilbur laughed, joyous, as the wind hit his face. The open sea was such a wonderful place! His love of its wonders and mysteries and melodies was endless. He was a traveling musician, a quite successful one at that. His music was known all across the world and many lords and kings requested his presence to perform at their castles. That’s what he was doing now, headed back to England, summoned by his Majesty’s request to perform at the annual ball.

“Mr. Soot please get down from there!” The Captain’s orders barked hastily at him had him turning with a grin. He was standing up on the bowspirit of the ship and the Captain of the vessel was standing just behind him, hands on his hip and a growing annoyance in his eyes.

Wilbur relented, his boots hitting the bed with a thud as he hopped down to stand beside the Captain. He fixed the older man with an innocent look and a charming smile, “I do apologize Captain. I love the sea so much that I sometimes cannot help myself.”

The Captain regarded him with a knowing look and sighed, “Just please refrain from doing it in the future. It makes the crew nervous. None of us want to report to his Majesty that his requested musician fell overboard.”

“Of course Captain!” Wilbur saluted, mockingly.

The Captain opened his mouth, no doubt to reprimand the action, but was stopped by a frantic call from above.

“Captain! Captain! Skull and crossbones on the horizon!”

The Captain whirled into action, turning full circle to run to the helm. Curious, Wilbur followed closely.

“Pirates?” He asked, excitedly but none around him seemed to share his enthusiasm.

The Captain shot him a sharp look, wordlessly taking the spyglass that was handed to him. He looked through it, curses falling from his lips.

“It’s the bloody Speedrunner!” The Captain announced, turning for the wheel. He started to bark orders. Raise the sails, all hands on deck. “Mr. Soot below deck!” was the Captain’s last order.

Wilbur protested but the Captain cut him off. “Sir, whether you like it or not, you are under my command until you reach shore and you will do as I say and I’m telling you to go below deck.”

Wilbur was escorted below deck, not before he got a peak at the fastly approaching vessel. The light vibrant green sails of the ship stood in stark contrast to the jolly roger waving above them. ‘Tacky’ Wilbur thought as he was ushered below deck.

-

Try as she might, the merchant vessel was no match for the speed of the pirate ship. The Captain gritted his teeth as soon, his crew and his ship was completely taken over by the ragtag group of pirates.

“Dream,” The Captain gritted out with annoyance, heedless of the gun and cutlasses that were pointed at him and his crew. Dream usually never spilt blood during his raids and the Captain had been at sea long enough, had met with the pirate in these exact situations enough times, to know that the show of aggression was all bluff.

The Pirate Captain wasn’t much. He was tall and slim and didn’t even look or dress like a Captain. He wore dirty ragged clothes, a lime green bandana tied around his head to keep his dirty blond hair pulled back. He also wore a mask over the lover portion of his face, hiding all but his emerald green eyes from view. No one had ever seen his face and if they had, rumors had it they never lived to tell about it.

The Captain had no intention of doing that. He just watched the cocky pirate as he sauntered up to him.

“Sparklez!” Dream greeted happily, throwing his hands out, “what a surprise that we ran into each other again while you were transporting goods!”

Captain Sparklez pinched the bridge of his nose, insisting tiredly, “Just get what you came to get and leave”

Dream was grinning under his mask as he laughed, “Glad we have an understanding Captain,” he turned to a couple of his crew, “Alright boys, you heard the Captain, go see what’s below deck for the taking!”

A couple of the crew, a slightly shorter man with dark hair and a white headband tied around his head, a thin man with glasses and wearing a black, red trimmed, cloak, and another pirate that appeared to be in a full reindeer costume, headed below deck.

Captain Sparklez hoped they didn’t discover Wilbur but his hopes were dashed when muffled shouting sounded from below.

“What the hell?” Dream demanded, going to the stairs to call down, “Everything okay!”

“Look what we found!” Came the replying yell moments before the pirates were reappearing and dragging Wilbur with them. “He was trying to hide behind the salmon.”

Wilbur was pushed before the pirate captain. Wilbur looked up with wide eyes. Dark brown met emerald green. Both seem to freeze.

“Got something you wanna tell us Captain Sparklez?” The pirate in the black cloak asked, suspiciously. He glanced at Wilbur then his own Captain, who was still frozen.

“The boy is headed to Britian. He’s but a musician who hired me to ferry him.” Captain Sparklez answered hastily. He also was looking at Wilbur and Dream. “He is an innocent bystander in all of this.”

The pirate opened his mouth, possibly to ask more questions but he was cut off by his Captain.

‘Who are you?” Dream asked Wilbur, his voice soft and held none of the cockiness it had before.

Both crews, pirate and merchant, looked at the two with raised eyebrows and some with shocked expressions.

“Wilbur. Wilbur Soot.” Wilbur answered earnestly and Captain Sparklez facepalmed and muttered, “Boy, don’t engage with the pirate.”

“Why?” Wilbur asked, glancing at Sparklez, “He’s interesting.”

Laughter erupted from Dream. “Yeah Sparklez,” He said, his voice playful and teasing as he looked at the merchant ship’s Captain, “I’m interesting.”

“Please don’t feed his ego.” One of the pirates, a man dressed in light blue with a pair of goggles covering his eyes, warned in exasperation and Dream whirled around to face him.

“Oh shut up George, he can feed my ego as much as he wants to.” Dream demanded though the grin was evident in his voice. George just rolled his eyes at his Captain. Dream turned back, winking at Wilbur, who’s cheeks colored pink.

“So Mr. Soot, you do music?” Dream asked, conversationally as he leant against the mast of the ship.

“Dream, what about the cargo?” The pirate with the white headband asked and Dream waved him off with an order, “Start loading it on the Speedrunner obviously.”

“Dumbass,” the pirate muttered before motioning to a few of the crew and they disappeared below deck.

“I… I uh… yeah.” Wilbur muttered, “I’m actually on my way right now to perform for his Majestic at the castle.”

Dream whistled, impressed, “You’re Mr. Popular then aren’t you?”

Wilbur laughed softly, shaking his head. His brown curls bouncing on top of his head, “Something like that”

“What are some of your songs? Perhaps I’ve heard some of them?” Dream questioned. A crash was heard and his attention snapped to his crew and the box of produce that was now spilling out over the deck, hollering, “Hey be careful with the goods. We need those!”

“Sorry Captain.”

Dream turned back to Wilbur, “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Let’s see there’s Jubilee Line, Since I Saw Vienna, Soft Boy, Saline Solution, Maybe I was Boring.”

“I’ve heard that one!” Dream exclaimed, eyes shining, “Maybe I was Boring. It was being sung in one of the pirate owned taverns. The guy singing it was trying to pass it off as one of his own but he didn’t look smart enough to come up with something so beautiful.”

“Yes well, as I’m sure you are well aware, there are thieves in every trade I’m afraid,” Wilbur sighed before he seemed to catch the last part of the sentence, “Wait you think my song is beautiful?”

“That’s not the only thing I think is beautiful,” Dream’s voice dropped as he reached up and closed the space between them. They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Callahan was standing to the side, he looked apologetic.

“I do not mean to alarm anyone and I certainly hate to break up whatever is transpiring between the two of you, Captain but there is a ship on the horizon. Looks like the Navy.”

Wilbur was left at the mast as Dream stepped quickly to the side of the ship and took the spyglass from George. He looked through it, muttering out a curse before barking, “Everyone back to the ship!”

His crew reached instantly.

“What about this ship?” the pirate in the white headband asked almost eagerly as he headed for the ropes that connected the two ships together, “You said we could start sinking them.”

“What?!” Sparklez’s outraged voice rose up as panicked murmurs rose up from the crew. Wilbur’s breath caught in his throat.

“Not this one,” Dream said, his voice steeled with finality. Emerald eyes met dark brown once more, “Today this ship was saved by a distracting handsome face and everything else. So long for now and Mr. Soot? I’m sure you and I will meet again in the future”

Dream gave a little salute before joining his crew and soon the Speedrunner was just a speck in the distance as the Naval ship approached.

Wilbur stood at the bow of the ship, watching as the pirate ship disappeared in the distance. A soft smile on his lips and his whole body was warmed. The pirate captain certainly was charming wasn’t he.

“Charming?” Sparklez repeated with alarm as the Naval ship pulled up alongside them and Wilbur realized that he must’ve uttered the sentence out loud. A hand fell on his shoulder and the Captain leaned down to speak quietly, a warning, “Son let me tell you something, no matter how ‘charming’ he may be, at the end of the day he’s a pirate and you need to stay well away from him. He’s dangerous, not only in general, but also to your career.”

Wilbur tried to heed Captain Sparklez warning but he couldn’t get his mind off the oddly charming pirate. He hoped that Dream was being sincere when he said they would meet each other again because he was looking forward to it.

[mavda]

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 |  Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) | Ch.7(3) | Ch.7(4) | Ch.7(5) | Ch.8(1) | Ch.8(2) | Ch.8(3) | Ch.9(1) | Ch.9(2) | Ch.9(3) | Ch.9(4) | Ch.10(1) |

Ch.10: The Two-Tails (2)

Mito arrives to a quiet room. Too calm for her liking. Naruto sits in front of strewn papers, a contemplating look on his face. 

    “You can’t go,” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth. 

    But her grandson looks at her, smiles like always, and then shares with her their plan to uncover some secrets they think are lurking under the waters.

    Mito throws doubts and worries at every turn, and even though the Inuzuka’s leader and Shino agree with them, Naruto explains his reasoning. Shikamaru offering advice whenever it is needed. 

    It is late into the night when they decide to adjourn and meet again tomorrow. As details and responsibilities are yet to be decided. And although the meeting’s details are secret and are not to be shared with anyone, when Mito meets Minato, like many other times -as ordered by their clan leader- she can share her knowledge with him. 

    She doesn’t know what it means that at the end of the day, the only thing she can do is hope for the best. 

    It is harsh to see Minato’s feelings all over the place and then settle. “I understand.” 

    It is harsh to see a reflection of herself reminding her that as usual, they can only nod and trudge behind Naruto. Eyes downcast, fingers crossed. Hoping for the best. 

    Again.

    As always.

⁂⁂⁂

Hinata feels Naruto coming with a certainty she herself has come to find eerie. She leaves the book beside her before the sliding door begins to open. Quietly.

    Naruto looks inside the room with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

    Hinata feels her shoulders drop and a smile creep up on her face the moment his blonde hair comes into view. “No, you d-didn’t.” He walks without making a sound whenever he comes late, he leaves without her noticing every morning. She supposes it is a mixture of Naruto really wanting to give her rest and her body being more tired, but she has been missing him coming and going a few times already.

    She misses him. 

    His mood changes from one of concern to one of playfulness. His clothes come off in a flash, and he barely puts on his sleepwear before he decides to slide into their bed and snuggle into Hinata’s body. 

    His nose nuzzles against her side, his arms around her. And Hinata is immediately grateful she waited for him. 

The bigger she gets the closer she wants to be with him, and knowing that Naruto will have to be away for more than a week... she can’t help but resent that meeting. 

Day after day, all day long away from her. In between Jiraiya's training, taking care of the clan in these unprecedented times and now a Beast Tamer meeting, Naruto has more on his plate than before. And Hinata can’t really bring herself to whine about how much she misses her husband. 

Naruto lays kisses on her stomach, where his hand travels along the way of her bump, and then he moves upward. A trail of kisses that make Hinata’s skin tingle. His head moves closer and closer to hers and she can’t help but feel exhilarated. 

It’s one look. One look from Naruto’s blue eyes before he dips his mouth to hers that sends her spiralling down between lust and concern. She doesn’t know which is more prevalent.

Naruto has been nothing but optimistic about his trip, nothing but calm and composed. But Hinata knows. Even with Lord Minato, Lady Mito and Jiraiya being full of plans and measures and assurances, they can’t hide their tension. Nobody near her can hide their anxiety completely.

Hinata knows. And there’s also one thing else she knows, has always known.

She can’t do anything. 

So when Naruto kisses her with the slightest of intent Hinata melts. Because she has missed his body and his care and his touch and knowing that he will soon face danger just makes her more eager to touch and seek and bring him to her. 

Naruto comes out of their kiss gasping for air, and the air around him shifts immediately. His hands roam Hinata’s body, but now they grab and pull. Hinata moans and Naruto devours her.

“It’s late,” he shares. A quick glance to the clock that doesn’t stop him from the task at hand.

Hinata doesn’t care. She was hoping. Wondering whether Naruto would have the energy for this, would share the hunger that seeps out of her. His hand cups her breast and he massages. Her breasts are bigger now. Bigger than before, as if that was possible. But she doesn’t care. Has come to even be proud of it. 

“I d-don’t mind.” 

Naruto’s face comes down her body, leaving wet kisses down her jaw, her neck. He reaches into her clothes and exposes one breast before bringing it into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue is enough to make Hinata moan and drag her nails across his back, so when he sucks and bites, she arches towards him. Her stomach pressing into her clothes. 

“Let me,” he gasps. His own sleepwear is halfway off, his shoulders and chest exposed. He unties Hinata’s sleepwear and the light of the candle shines on her exposed belly, her rising chest. 

Naruto feels his erection against his underwear with a clarity that’s uncomfortable, urging him to find release. But he can’t help but stare at his wife. Her arms are in front of her chest, as she has always been conscious of them. He was already entranced by the way her breasts couldn’t be hidden behind her arms before, now… now the sight is enough to make him cone. 

Naruto can feel himself growing frustrated by the second. His own body screaming to find her entrance, to find comfort. He lets his hands roam around her body, digs his fingers where her body is plump. Hinata squirms under him and follows his hands with her own, her chest exposed. 

Naruto comes closer, his groin flush against hers, and the heat makes him groan in pleasure. Their hands rest on Hinata’s growing belly and Naruto doubles over, his mouth over her heart. He lets his tongue greet her skin first before kissing the same spot. 

“I love you.”

There is no answer and Naruto raises his eyes to meet Hinata’s, as she has never let his confessions go unanswered before. 

Her eyes are filled with tears and her lips are pressed together. It takes him less than a second to understand what’s going on. 

But he refuses to make promises. So he softens his touch, kisses every part he can reach as he makes his way down to Hinata’s belly. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he whispers as his mouth travels down. He stops when he reaches her stomach. Bulging and growing and with child.

His child.

“I love you,” he breathes and he brings Hinata’s hand to his mouth, playfully bites her before placing a kiss on her palm. He lets her hand rest on his cheek, and he feels himself choke up on emotion, too. He doesn’t know when he will be able to settle her worries, doesn’t know when he will have the confidence to say everything will be all right. 

So the only thing that’s left for him is to profess his love for her. Confess time and time again and hoping that that is enough for her to stay. To love him back. To withstand whatever he puts her through.

… what an idiot. 

When does love become resentment? He’s scared to find out, even scared to think about it. 

Hinata brings her legs around him, grabs his arms in order to pull him into her. His hands to either side of Hinata’s, her eyes staring back.

“I l-love you, too.” 

He chuckles before cupping her face and kissing her. His tongue to hers, the tingle on his body just growing stronger. Hinata finds his erection and touches around his head, sucking on his lips as he gasps for air. 

“Can I-?” He starts, but Hinata is already pulling down his underwear. 

He’s a soaking mess and finding Hinata in the same situation makes him smirk. “Love…”

“I missed y-you-” Hinata can’t finish her sentence, as Naruto pushes inside. Her head presses into the floor, her hips raise and her fingers dig into his arms. Yes. She lets out a throaty moan that resonates throughout the room. Naruto starts with slow thrusts that make Hinata's libido soar. 

His hands on her stomach, his eyes on the up and down of her chest. "You all right?" He asks, voice hoarse, muscles tight as he keeps on with his movement. 

Hinata nods. She bites her lips as her body asks for more. "H-harder," she whimpers. 

Naruto brings his knees forward, presses his body flush against her own, his own abdomen touching her pregnant belly. His whole body enveloping hers. He worries for a second, is about to show concern for Hinata's comfort, but then she crosses her arms around his neck, brings his head close to hers. Her mouth to his ear. Her moans right next to him. 

"Tell me if you feel any discomfort," he groans and then pushes himself to the hilt. Hinata's body arches even more and Naruto can feel her chest against him. He keeps on with his movement. Can feel the sweat pooling at his neck, the sound of their bodies colliding growing wetter by the second. 

Hinata drags her nails across his cheek as one of her arms snakes between their bodies. She touches herself and Naruto can feel the immediate clamping of her body around him. 

"You coming, love?"

His lips ghost over hers and Hinata moans into him, gives him open-mouthed kisses Naruto devours. Her hand brings his head closer to hers, her lips bite at his skin as she feels herself unravel and reach her peak. Her legs close tight over him and Naruto follows her mouth as she moves to the side in a silent moan that only brings sound after Naruto grabs her thigh and presses further inside. Her body trembling all over. 

She feels herself reaching for him, and Naruto catches her hands and brings them to his face, drags them across his chest. Naruto's movements are now slower, deeper. His eyes are closed and Hinata gets lost watching as the sweat makes his skin shine. As there are streaks of sweat moving down his tight muscles.

Naruto opens his mouth but no sound comes. His hips stutter and he comes with his mouth on her neck, a low growl resonating in his chest. He pulls out and the loss of warmth makes Hinata squirm under him, but he comes back immediately. His wet erection against her stomach. Naruto thrusts against her and his hand finds hers, as the other presses down his penis against her skin. 

His eyes are open now and they travel up her body before settling at her face. He groans before his sperm shoots out again, adorning her belly. Hinata brings her hand up, places her fingers where she feels his seed, drags her hand across her stomach.

Naruto feels his chest rising and falling, and he feels like there isn't enough air around him. He pumps his penis a couple more times, and lets what's left of his semen fall on Hinata. 

Again.

Again and again.

He doubles over and covers Hinata's mouth with his. A deep kiss, where his tongue reaches and where their saliva intermingles and overflows around their mouth. 

A hungry kiss. 

Hinata’s white eyes lock him in place. She brushes his hair back and smiles. 

"S-so handsome."

Naruto chuckles. He falls into her, letting his weight press down but also keeping in mind her condition. He buries his hand on her hair, tilts her head to kiss her better. He sits on his heels and drags his mouth over her chest, he kneels and kisses her stomach, drags his hand over his own seed. He lets his hand fall on her thighs and drowns on her image. 

He looks at the clock. 

And Hinata sits in front of him, brings her mouth to his neck. Her hand to his penis, his inner thighs. 

"It's late," Naruto repeats, with no intention to stop her. 

Hinata’s mouth travels down his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. She settles between his legs and kisses his thighs. 

"I d-don’t mind."

And then she brings his penis into her mouth.

[shirtlesssammy]

6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much

Then:

I will never forgive the show for this pain

Now:

Sam is running for his life and pops into a bar to escape the cops. Duma The bartender tells him to leave and grabs a bat, but Sam begs and she relents. She asks him his name, but he doesn’t remember. 

She tries helping him retrace his steps. He doesn’t remember anything before two cops finding him and him taking them down before running. She tells him that he needs to go to the doctor. He refuses. There’s somewhere he has to be --something he has to stop. 

Sam sees a HP Lovecraft book and has flashes of Bobby and the Nite Owl Hotel. The bartender makes one final push to take Sam to the hospital, but he needs to get to that hotel. She offers to drive. 

Once there, Sam instinctively knows to go to one room. They break in to find the room one giant murder board. She also finds his fake IDs.

Sam has another --longer-- flashback to Bobby, Dean, and him finding Eleanor in an alley, dying. She tells them they know how to crack Purgatory open. 

They plan on opening the door at noon --a solar eclipse. 

Cas flaps in and apologizes. 

Dean wants a fight, but Cas is beyond that. He tells them to go home and just let him stop Raphael. ”I wish it hadn't come to this. Well rest assured, when this is all over, I will save Sam, but only if you stand down.”

He then breaks Sam’s wall. 

In the present day, Sam remembers his name, and doesn’t want to tell Robin (she has a name!--had to look that up though) because it would be crazy. Sam remembers Bobby --but only finds his address. Robin decides it’s her time to bounce. Sam decides to drive his car --his car the Impala --his car-- to Sioux Falls. 

Robin tries stopping him from doing that though. He might not like what he finds. 

Sam’s spidey sense kicks in and he tackles Robin to the ground as the window to the Impala gets shot out. Sam gets back up again to see himself aiming a gun at him. 

Wherps. Sam’s actually comatose in the warded room in Bobby’s basement. Bobby comes in and they recap how royally boned they are. 

Dream Sam and Robin start driving. Robin starts freaking out about their situation. Dean flashes a light at Sam’s eyes, and suddenly it’s day in Sam’s world. “It was night, and now it’s day.” Robin is DONE. Sam hears a noise and convinces her to get back in the car. He grabs a shotgun and heads into the forest. His other self stalks him behind a tree. 

The other Sam breaks down what happened --and reveals that he’s Sam without a soul. He wants to take charge in Sam’s noggin. Sam takes off running and they engage in The Most Dangerous Game until our Sam outsmarts Soulless Sam and shoots him in the back. “If you think I’m bad, wait until you meet the other one,” Soulless Sam says, and dies. His essence is absorbed into Sam.

Sam returns to the car, with many memories restored.

For DAMN She’s Fine Science:

Unfortunately, one of the memories Sam retrieved was of a monster who was using her as a shield. Sam shot and killed her, Soulless Sammy style, to get her out of his way. RUDE. (I totally forgot about this during the later Amara soulless arcs - I don’t know why I keep trying to hold Sam up as this peak virtuous character?) Robin poofs away, having fulfilled her role as the ghost of Christmas past. 

At Bobby’s, Dean drinks and IS SAD. 

Balthazar flaps in to mock Dean and Bobby - but also reassure them that he’s still on their side. He hands over Cas’s whereabouts and flaps away. 

Meanwhile, Crowley hands over the Purgatory spell mix (a jar of blood) to Cas. 

Castiel looks contemplative, and quietly informs Crowley that he’s re-negotiating their agreement. He refuses to hand any souls over to Crowley. Cas advises Crowley to either flee or die. And I’M SORRY but I’m into it. Crowley zaps away. 

Sam sneaks his way into a seriously over-dramatically lit room. SAM, your mind XD. The drama llama who decorates with a hundred candles turns out to be none other than Sam Winchester, victim of hellish torture. 

For 80’s Angsty Music Video Science:

Dean leaves the address Balthazar gave them by Sam’s head and bids him farewell. Mournfully. Just before he departs, he gently lays a gun on Sammy’s bed right next to the note. DEAN WINCHESTER, that’s not safe gun handling. Smh

Sam’s goth self tells him that Tortured Sam has to be reabsorbed before Sam can wake up. Sam trades his gun for a knife - for extra drama apparently - then stabs himself and sucks in all that extra soul whammy. In the bunker, he flails dramatically on the cot. 

Balthazar flaps in to meet Cas, who is deeply concerned that Dean’s on his way. He notes that he’s been betrayed and orders Balthazar to root out the mole. Balthazar is a TERRIBLE LIAR the entire conversation. 

“I’m doing my best in impossible circumstances,” Cas says. Still, he’s being plotted against and he finds it super frustrating. Balthazar continues to bluster away, confident that he’s fooled his friend. Flapping behind a poorly dissembling Balthazar, Cas stabs him. Balthazar burns away. Noooooooo!

Dean and Bobby pull up to the building and find it’s fully guarded by angels. They’re grousing about their odds when a massive cloud of demons swoops in. The demons upend the Impala and assault the compound while Castiel pours over the spell. Crowley flaps in to meet Cas, who immediately moves to smite him.

“You can palm me all you want,” Crowley flirts, but he’s got a new BFF. Raphael flaps in. Crowley and Raphael chastise Cas for his power overreach. It looks like the end for our hero! Cas tosses the jar of Purgatory blood to Crowley and flaps away. 

Crowley and Raphael perform the Purgatory gateway spell. (Side note: hey, remember when Michael just snapped his fingers and made a door into Purgatory in the last season? Good times, good times.) Dean and Bobby claw their way out of the Impala and sneak into the ritual. Unfortunately for them, they’re found out immediately and flung across the room. 

A worse-for-wear Sam stumbles past the Impala, and then heads for Crowley’s lair.

Crowley finishes the spell with a flourish only for...nothing to happen. Cas flaps in holding a half-empty jar. He had the real blood all along! Castiel glows with power, and Rave!Cas is born? “They’re all inside me. Millions upon millions of souls.” Crowley flaps away, which is smart...because Cas snaps his finger and explodes Raphael. 

He smiles serenely at Dean and Bobby. Okay, just kidding. He ONLY has eyes for Dean, who counsels him to send the souls back to Purgatory before the eclipse window...er...eclipses. Castiel is not on board with this plan! He needs to visit holy rage upon Raphael’s followers in Heaven. 

“We were family once. I’d’ve died for you,” Dean tells him. “I’ve lost Lisa. I’ve lost Ben. Now I’ve lost Sam. Don’t make me lose you too.” Cas hears it and...tosses it aside. And then he tells Dean the REALLY BAD NEWS. They’re not family!

Oh, also, he’s declaring himself the new god and he’d really prefer their flannel-clad shoulders to be prostrate before him. We end on stacked zoom footage which reminds us that yes, Robert Singer sure did direct this episode. 

I Am Your Quotes Now:

I love what you've done with the place. It's very Beautiful Mind meets Se7en

I am all filled up on crazy for today

You will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord. Or I shall destroy you

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[lostinthosebrowneyes]

Pedro Character HCs | The Boys as D&D (5e) Classes

Dave York

Rogue. Dave is a soldier who specializes in the silent kill. He knows all about a life of murky morality and thrives in the darkness with his expertise in stealth. But get him up close and away from his teammates and their flanking advantage and it’s game over for him. He’s the classic high risk, high reward class with melee and range versatility, specifically the Assassin archetype who makes the most of drawing his weapon first.

Din Djarin

Fighter. Nobody beats the humble Fighter in terms of battle versatility. Din is more than a mercenary, he’s a true warrior. An expert in all manner of weapons, just put something that kills in his hands and he’ll make it sing. The Fighter is the workhorse of any D&D campaign, a classic and always welcome addition, he does his job with maximum efficiency be it solo or as part of a team. He has no need for fancy spells or gimmicks, his job is to take the pain and dish it out in equal measure. He will outlast all of the showy casters and niche glass cannons on the battlefield, taking his Second Wind while they’re making death saving throws. Din would probably also have the Sentinel feat because he particularly shines as a protector and is a selfless member of any party, ready to take up the slack and have your back when you need him. This is the way.

Ezra

Bard. Ezra is a talker. In a sticky situation? Try to talk your way out of it. Looking for information? Say just the right words to try and get what you need. Whether he’s good at it is debatable and he’s rolled a lot of Nat 1s in his life, but Ezra has the spirit of a Bard inside him. He’s a lateral thinker, lives by the philosophy of taking the unspoken third option and he seems like the type of person who invests in obscure lore. In the Green there is no magic to save you, only hard work. But could you imagine Ezra’s sheer power if he could speak cutting words that actually physically killed people? He would be unstoppable.

Frankie Morales

Ranger. Whether it’s up in the sky, armed with a rifle or just socializing with friends, Frankie seems to like to navigate his way around danger and keep it at arms’ length rather than face it head on. He’s found his way through quite a few wild and dangerous terrains through his career in the military, from jungles to deserts, and surely knows a thing or two about roughing it. He’s quiet, thoughtful and down-to-earth, and he seems to make his biggest mistakes when he’s around other people. Peer pressure can’t hurt you when you’re in the wilds on your own, I’m just saying.

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

Blood Hunter. I’m going to be blunt, Blood Hunters are zealots who pick a particular type of target and hunt them to the ends of the earth. Jack clearly has an issue with black-and-white thinking and can’t let go of a good (or even a really stupid) vendetta. Particularly, Jack would be Order of the Profane Soul, because he would clearly sell his soul to the devil to wipe his enemy from the face of the earth. Blood Hunter also fits Agent Whiskey’s fighting style as they are generally Dex-based (aka, agile) fighters who sacrifice their own health to do intense amounts of damage; the riskiest daredevils of all D&D classes. Jack Daniels is a bloodhound, when he’s got his target’s scent he will finish the job or die trying.

Javier Peña

Paladin. Here we have the somewhat nobler take on the black-and-white morality man on a mission. Javier is a Paladin all the way. On a good day, Javi would be Oath of Devotion, the most romanticized version of his ideals and goals. But most of his days are bad days, so Javi chooses the Oath of Vengeance; committed to seeing evil pay no matter the cost, making restitution for the things he must do in their pursuit only after he’s taken his foes down by any means necessary. Javier has a bit of a white knight complex at times, an overdeveloped sense of justice that just doesn’t jive with how the real world works. Sometimes he realizes that, but other times it eats him up inside. As a Paladin he would have a host of spells and tricks under his belt specifically to help him root out his elusive targets, echoing the arsenal of espionage tactics he has access to in the show.

Marcus Moreno

Paladin/Sorcerer Multiclass. I couldn’t pick between the two for Marcus M, luckily these two produce a very strong multiclass! Marcus is the product of strong bloodlines like a Sorcerer and his magnetic talent is an innate part of him just as a Sorcerer’s magic is. However, this power is not his strongest asset. His leadership abilities and protective instincts are what make him who he is more than superpowers and that’s his Paladin side coming through. Marcus Moreno is the quintessential hero and a high Charisma type, but in the unassuming way that he’s just a nice dude who people naturally like... unless you’re Miracle Guy, I guess.

Marcus Pike

Rogue. Oh man, Marcus Pike was the hardest to pick of all. He’s in a law-oriented job but is impulsive and intuitive. He has combat training but he is not aggressive. He’s passionate but not over-emotional. He has a love for the arts but no desperation for the limelight. Eventually I settled on a specific Archetype: The Rogue Inquisitive. A detective flavor of the Rogue, the Inquisitive is more reliant on Wisdom than his sneakier brethren. His skills are in honing in on the truth, both of his situation and the hearts of those around him. He’s insightful, steady and trusts his gut for good or ill. The Rogue is more than a criminal or a killer, the Rogue is also the classic jack of all trades. Marcus as a Rogue is someone who loves sampling many different interests and avenues, surprising people with his versatility of talents. He’s always up for a new challenge and adventure, he’s always got an arrow in his quiver you didn’t know about. And yes, sometimes he’s a bit low-key, but you really want that in a Rogue.

Maxwell Lord

Warlock. Maxwell is the perfect Warlock cocktail of willing to make a deal and too arrogant to realize it’s a bad one. Warlocks are greedy for power, too ready to take shortcuts and often needy for attention, even if it’s the wrong kind of attention. His short rest spell slots make his magic a quick fix for sticky situations but just as quickly depleted. Maxwell is willing to get his head in way too deep in order to get what he wants and what he wants is always just out of reach, but that taste of power from his patron is enough to keep him going.

Oberyn Martell

Monk. I know what you’re thinking: “What?? The hottest man in Westeros, known hedonist Oberyn Martell as anything but a Charisma-based class???” Well here’s the thing, Oberyn is a lover and a fighter, and nobody does what he does better than a Monk. Peak physical condition, baby. Those acrobatic moves? Dexterity-leaning Monk class has it covered. Oberyn is a clever man and he uses the science of poisons to get to his enemy’s weak points. Similarly, the Wisdom-based Monk uses a blend of magic and science to exploit pressure points and Stunning Strike their enemies into submission. They are experts of the human body, what more need I say? At higher levels they literally have a class feature to stay fit and sexy for the rest of their lives. Add onto that, the Monastic Tradition Way of the Sun Soul uses explosive bursts of fire and light against their enemies in a way that’s pretty thematic for the Prince of Dorne and his fiery personality.

[yukiwrites]

Kiran, Categorizing

Thank you for the support and patience as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This was so funny to write, I hope you like it!

Summary: Bored during a meeting, Kiran started to sort some of the heroes in a way that he had only done back in his own world, in social media... Now, Sharena, Alfonse and Anna seemed interested in the magical world of the... himbos.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

Kiran’s workload after he was summoned to Askr kept increasing exponentially as the war against various kingdoms dragged on. There were many Heroes to keep track of and many different powers coming to play, so he always had to be careful when suggesting a team or a strategy.

Of course, he couldn’t deny that sometimes he made team compositions mostly based on personal preference or how the heroes would interact with one another rather than how well they complemented each other’s strengths, but he never sent those out to dangerous missions, so he liked to keep that to himself.

Take the meeting going on at that moment, for example; he was shuffling through a list of buff-looking heroes to form a team to explore whatever had been going on inside the Illusory Dungeon. No one knew for certain when phantoms of heroes and compelling songs would start appearing and playing there, but whenever lights shone inside it, Kiran formed one of those teams based on his own preferences just to hear the reports once they came back.

Well, the meeting wasn’t solely for this situation as Anna, Alfonse and Sharena were sitting on the round table around Kiran while talking strategies about the many other skirmishes happening in the country. There were some heroes who still had to go to the Training Tower, so the smallest pile of papers by Kiran’s left was a list of those; there were also heroes raring to go explore the Aether Islands, so the second smallest pile was full of requests from them; there had also been reports about suspicious movements in the woods nearby, so some nimble heroes were needed…

There was a lot to do, so Kiran was taking his time to at least form a team he found funny instead of drowning in the weight of his responsibilities like it usually happened to Alfonse. Kiran looked up from the paper in front of him to the sick-looking prince, raising an eyebrow at how intently he stared at a report.

“Alfonse, maybe you should take a break. You’re looking whiter than your own clothes.” Kiran’s hoarse voice from talking all morning made the prince blink and shake his head.

“I couldn’t possibly take a break at an important time such as this-”

“C’mon, Alfonse, Kiran’s right.” Sharena patted her brother’s shoulder, her face still full of energy as though she wasn’t tired at all from sitting at that table for hours. “Let’s go stretch our legs! I’ll come with you.”

Once again Alfonse shook his head. “No. As I said, I can’t cut the meeting short just for this.” He shifted his tired gaze from his pouty sister to the Summoner, “were you almost finished with the team for the Illusory Dungeon, Kiran?”

“Hm? Ah, yeah. I wanted a team of himbos, so I figured Raphael, Arden, Draug and maybe Shiro…? I was torn between him and Chrom, but perhaps Chrom isn’t really one…” Kiran mumbled the later half of the sentence, frowning slightly at the personal files of Chrom and Shiro as though he could find the answer there if only he stared long enough.

Anna raised her finger to ask, but then gave up on it, shaking her head. Sharena didn’t, though.

“Eh? What’s a ‘himbo’, Kiran? Is it something you use to sort the heroes? Or does it have to do with how strong they are?” The princess’ eyes shone, while her brother beside her looked confused yet intrigued.

Snorting, Kiran had to avert his eyes for a moment, wondering how he could have said that out loud. An internet lingo he had used back when he still had social media (though still pretty accurate to categorize people) now came up in this kind of situation. Kiran cleared his throat, fighting back a smirk.

“Well, yeah, it can be considered something to sort them based on how strong they look. A man is only a himbo if he has three characteristics: He has to be buff, kind, -- to everyone, though especially to women -- and stupid. If he’s missing even one of these, he can’t be considered a himbo.”

“Wha-” Anna frowned, placing one hand over her mouth to hide a snort.

Alfonse and Sharena, however, were appalled.

“S-stupid? That’s kind of mean to say about the heroes, though?” Sharena deflated like a sad balloon, sitting back after getting up in excitement about a new word.

“Truly, I- I never expected you to talk about them like this, Kiran.” Alfonse looked more offended than anything, as though all of the built-up trust they had shared had shattered.

Kiran pressed his lips into a thin line, almost unable to stop himself from laughing out loud. “No, I mean it in the best way possible. Look here,” he picked up Raphael’s file, which had a picture of him smiling wide and warmly, “this is the peak example of a himbo. He’s not book-smart nor does he have street-smarts, but his heart? It's as wide as the ocean. He’s kind, but without any ulterior motive, and he’s really, really big and buff.”

Sharena’s jaw dropped in shock, processing the information as Alfonse twitched his eyebrows. “But why refer to him as ‘stupid’...? That’s rather insulting.”

Kiran shrugged. “Well, it’s just the fastest way to call someone who doesn’t have much -- if any -- smarts in them, isn’t it? Look at this one here.” He pulled a file from a nearby pile, lifting it for them to see. “Tibarn here, he’s buff and kind, but he has smarts. You can see many thoughts going inside his head,” different from the zero braincells Raphael seems to have, Kiran thought to himself as he swallowed a snort. “So he’s not a himbo, but a hunk.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, “Anna managed to say after properly managing not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “So a himbo has those three characteristics, a hunk is a muscular and kind man. So what of the other combination? If they’re kind and… lacking in smarts?” She asked, barely containing a smirk from sprouting, which mirrored Kiran’s.

“Well, that’s just a decent man, I suppose.” He coughed out, trying to mask a snort as Anna threw her head back in laughter, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Pfft-aahaha! This is new!” She laughed loudly, taking shaky breaths to stop herself from crying as she dried her eyes with one hand. “So, since when have you been ranking the heroes like this?”

Catching her laughter, Kiran shook in amusement for a bit before glancing at the confused royals. “Since before I was summoned here, I suppose. It’s a ‘sorting technique’ used back in my world.”

Sharena’s eyes sparkled once again. “Well, if we can not say that they’re stupid, then I think it’s a good sorting! They have a big heart and big bodies, right? It doesn’t matter that they don’t understand the world around them, just that they’re ready to accept everything at face value!” The princess looked up as though she had made the discovery of the century, while Alfonse beside her crossed his arms to think.

If it was something from another world, Kiran’s world especifically, it was worth giving it a try, was it not? Perhaps if they applied themselves, they’d be able to sort the heroes more efficiently and cut back the time for these meetings so they could focus their energy elsewhere…

“As I was saying, I was in doubt about Chrom because, look: he’s buff enough, though not as big as, say, Draug; he scores high in kindness; but he has SOME smarts… Although he’s impulsive, it’s not like his brain is empty like- ahem, it’s not like his heart is as big as Raphael’s or Shiro’s.”

Not hearing the insulting part about the heroes’ smarts, Sharena nodded in compliance, thinking deeply. “Hmmm, I don’t think I can help in this right away. Can you give us more examples?”

“Sure, look here,” Kiran turned the pile by his left to Sharena. “Hinata, he’s a jock. He’s buff enough, but he’s not really kind and he’s kinda brusque, right?” Kiran held back the ‘he lacks brain cells’ part, saying it only with his eyes to Anna, the only one who truly understood him in all of this. “On the other hand, Stahl… is just a decent guy. He’s kind and although he has some smarts, he’s not buff, so he doesn’t fall into this category.”

“Hmmm, so do you think Owain could be one? He’s stup- ah, lacks smarts enough and he’s a good guy. But he- ah, yeah… perhaps not.” Anna started, but then stopped herself after comparing Raphael’s muscles to Owain’s. “Isn’t this kind of sorting way too specific? I don’t think many heroes fall under the ‘himbo’ category.”

Kiran nodded solemnly, as though they were talking about some important strategy. “Indeed. It’s very hard to find a true himbo, as they’re extremely rare. Hence why I was having trouble with the Illusory Dungeon team.”

“I see… It sounds really important.” Sharena nodded, basically accepting that this was something that went way over her head and tried to catch up in her own way. Alfonse still had mixed feelings about it, but the more seriously Kiran and Anna talked about it, the more he felt like he was in the wrong for finding something iffy about the sorting method in the first place.

“For example, Linus… if only he was a bit kinder, he would be another prime example of a himbo.” Kiran said over Sharena’s mumbling, sighing wistfully. “Lex would also be a good one, but he’s too smart to be a himbo.”

“Oh, I know! What about Keaton? He seems perfect!” Sharena raised her voice as her eyes glanced at one of the lists around Kiran.

The Summoner and Anna exchanged glances. “Not enough muscle.”

“Ah…” Sharena sat back with a pout. “This is really hard…”

“Yeah…” Kiran scratched his temple in thought.

In the following silence, only Alfonse’s voice could be heard after a few minutes. “... Isn’t Lord Hector one, though? From those examples…”

Kiran widened his eyes, jumping out of his seat with a bang. “That’s it! Alfonse, you’re a genius!” He praised, quickly shifting through the files to find Hector’s. “Do you have any more suggestions?”

Taken aback by the sudden cheer, Alfonse gulped. “Um, I thought about Helbindi, especially according to what Princess Yglr told us about him…”

“Hmm… A rare tsundere himbo, huh… perhaps?” Kiran took one hand to his chin in thought, mumbling something under his breath. “Alfonse, you’re on the right track! C’mon, keep the ideas coming!”

“Brother, you’re no fun, you picked it up so quickly! Tell me more!” Sharena protested, manhandling Alfonse into fessing up how he understood Kiran’s vague explanations so well.

Anna snorted under both hands as her shoulders shook from suppressed laughter, wondering how the hell they had ended up talking about that in the middle of a meeting.

Regardless, the topic was too much fun to be ditched now that the four of them were eagerly exchanging suggestions and adding more himbos to the pile, so no one noticed that the important meeting they were having was now a himbo-selection tournament.

Perhaps after night fell, they would come back to their senses, but for now, the Commander, the two royals and the Summoner threw heated debate against one another regarding the amount of intelligence this or that hero possessed.

[castlevania-afterdark-imagines]

A series of events leading to sleeping naked with Trevor under his cloak. Or with Dracula under his. Please?

Doing this kind of like they’re in the early stages of being in a relationship. Venturing into physical but not fully confident in the nude yet. Namely because if this was far into said relationship sleeping naked under his cloak is just a translation for “bedtime ritual”. (Also I cannot really see many situations where you are going to get the Lord of Darkness, Master of the Night, Vlad Dracula Tepes to sleep naked under only a cloak. The guy has a whole fuckin castle to make use of afterall, you know he has some royal standard bedding available.

The dangers of the road were usually pretty standard when traveling with Trevor.

Bandits? Yup. Monsters? Easy. Terrible weather? Ha, as if he hasn’t slept completely soaking wet a thousand times due to a sudden storm.

The wheel axle snapping and promptly tossing the two of you from the front seat into a pile of questionably smelling road muck? That was new.

After fixing the axle well enough to reach the next town, the two of you didn’t have to do much but give each other a strained look of “I love you but you reek” to prompt directing your cart off the road towards a nearby river.

Even Trevor has limits on how much grime he can handle. He bails on any pretense of being “gentlemanly” and strips before you can negotiate who should turn their gaze away first.

Not that you get much time to observe before he’s fully submerged and scrubbing the filth off his skin. To be honest, you were also preoccupied trying to do the same.

After a solid hour of washing clothes and equipment there’s a bit of an awkward dance trying to set up a camp and lay out clothing to dry around the fire without too much obvious peaking. 

Trevor, lucky bastard, at least still has his cloak to hide away under. It had been warm enough that day that he hadn’t been wearing it during *the incident*. That also meant he was the one setting up for dinner while you took shelter in the cart.

You both find relative comfort resting by the fire on a spare blanket but after he sees you start to shiver once the sun dips behind the trees he errs on the side of practicality and offers for you to come join him under it. God knows it’s big enough for two.

There’s not really many ways of fitting two sitting people under a cloak comfortably, so much to a blushing Trevor’s chagrin, you just have to sit your bare naked ass on his bare ass naked lap.

He tries very hard (heh) to keep from getting excited about the position, thinking of monster guts and errant kicks to the nuts during past tavern brawls but well... he’s a simple man and his very attractive partner is sitting in his lap. 

Once you notice and give a cheeky wiggle of your hips (to be sure you weren’t “sitting on a log or something”) Trevor chokes out a rough “We should get some rest” and carefully dumps you out of his lap so he can move to put out the fire, leaving you covered by the cloak draped over your head.

He waits for you to get into the cart before extinguishing the last of the embers, praying the cold night air helps his raging hardon be less... evident.

When he finds his way into the wagon he finds you spread out on the blanket with the cloak draped over you. He reaches around to try and find another but you roughly grab his arm and just pull him to lie down with you.

At that point he lets you lead, arranging him to how you feel comfortable. That ends with you resting your head on his chest, hand delicately running over the scars running down his sternum.

He of course is desperately trying to figure out if he should be taking this as some sort of sexual lead or if he’s just the best source of heat within your reach. He chooses caution this time and tries to remain still, letting himself relax to the sound of your breathing.

After a few rinse and repeat attempts of trying to sleep and then waking up to the temptation of your warm skin brushing against his, he relents and lets himself cuddle into you, turning onto his side so he can get his other arm around you and pull you to his chest.

Survival, of course... and comfort.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

What dating draco as a hufflepuff is like pt 2:

Trigger warnings: Death, bodily harm and war.

Draco was at a loss for words with you

My God you were gorgeous to him

He and you were just so focused on each other the entire night

And a funny thing happened

You kissed.

You walked into your common room heels in hand and squealing.

Everyone loved seeing you happy that night...

You didn't realize how everything was about to change.

The final trial was coming up and you and Draco were now officially a couple

You sat next to him, hand in hand, a couple of whispers in the other's ear followed by giggling

You were happy

Then the end came

Harry won and you cheered until you noticed Cedric.

All sound drowned out as you ran down to them and Draco's eyes were huge.

Dead.

Cedric was actually dead.

You were crying the entire night, no one even daring to touch you.

When Draco showed up to help everyone basically just said "Do something. We don't know what to do."

You couldn't sleep anymore, it all came back to you

You'd wake up crying and screaming

Your parents could see how tired you were.

But this summer something definitely changed

Draco was now more hush hush about something

He absolutely hated keeping things from you

You didn't really care though about the secrets, you were too tired to care

Then that bitch Umbridge came in.

You were promoted to head girl and Draco was Head boy

For some reason he was the golden child to her

So getting away with being with him wasn't too hard

For him

She'd punish you. By carving into your skin with her wand

When he found out about it he was livid.

You had to calm him.

You were slowly coming back to your normal self.

Fred and George told you about their plan after you caught them with fireworks

You did a glance back and smirked.

"Fucking do it. I want to see pictures of Umbridge's face when it happens too."

Sure enough they did and you were laughing the entire time

Considering your friendship with the boys her natural reaction was to assume you were in on it.

So you got dragged back to her office

This time neither Draco or Harry was having it.

Both barged in and told her if she even so much as breathed in your direction she'd regret it

She expected that from Harry.

But Draco?

Oh no she was angry.

But Draco wouldn't back down.

He did something Harry didn't expect.

Draco threatened to tell his father what was happening

And Umbridge was suddenly off his back.

Harry was stone cold at first but slowly warmed up to Draco being in your life.

As did Ron and Hermione.

You were now noticing the secretive nature of Draco and he was anxious

The summer involved you both staying at draco's and the burrow.

You spent the first half of it at the burrow

And when you did finally go to the manor it was very clear why Draco was secretive.

Voldemort. Was right in front of you.

The whole family was dead silent as you dropped your bag and gulped.

That's when an idea hit you.

You did a curtsy and Lucius rose a brow and Draco was taken aback.

"Who is this... Girl?" Voldemort asked sending shivers down your spine.

"She is my son's... Fiancee." Lucius said making Draco look at you and then his father.

You cleared your throat. "Sorry. What?"

"the engagement dear." Narcissa said looking at the dark lord and then you as a way to say "GO ALONG WITH THIS."

You nodded and chuckled. "Right! Right. Still new to... All of this please forgive me." You said.

Voldemort was suspicious of you, naturally.

But after a long summer of lying he didn't doubt your loyalty after there was a legitimate engagement ring on your finger.

Which you were taken aback by.

Especially when you and Draco finally had a calm moment of peace and you asked him if he wanted this to be legitimate and he said of course.

So you ended up engaged, agreeing to marry after... Everything was over.

You then became a double agent

Which so did Draco. Because that was dangerous and he wasn't letting you do this alone

You'd report back to Harry what you learned with Draco

You were more so just present when secrets were given, not really told them

Draco would tell them everything though in full.

Everything came to screeching halt though on information after Draco walked out of his father's study pale

You two went to the burrow and he basically was shaking.

He couldn't say what they asked him to do all they knew is that it was bad and it was going to involve a fight.

And then later that year it was made clear what he was asked to do

Dumbledore was killed

And you and him both were given the marks of death eaters.

You absolutely loathed it too, as did Draco.

It didn't help that the situation was getting worse with Harry too

After the vault incident your friends were being held captive and you were just staying near Draco to keep from saying anything.

And then Bellatrix got a hold of Hermione

You watched as Hermione screamed in agony

It didn't help that you had to fight them at one point either.

Which you ended up injured after the chandelier fell

Draco tended to your wounds, apologizing over and over again for you being hurt.

You kept telling it was okay, you weren't badly hurt.

You knew the war was starting soon and Draco almost wanted to send you away with your parents but you refused to leave.

You told your parents though, to quote: "get the fuck out of London. Trust me."

So they did. They promised they'd be back when you needed them and you gave them hugs before leaving.

Snape's death was a shocking thing to come back to, increasing Draco's anxiety about the two of you being double agents.

The battle was coming and you were spending any free moments looking at hogwarts because you knew things were going to change.

Then the battle broke out.

People were dying left and right and you were having a hard time keeping up.

You didn't even have time to mourn Lindsey as she took a hit for you.

You however noticed something hurdle towards Fred and you slammed into him, taking the hit instead.

That's when both Fred and George went to find Draco

They did, explaining exactly what happened

That you were protecting the students who were injured and you noticed something about to hit Fred from an explosion.

Draco immediately booked it and found you barely clinging to life.

There was a fucking miracle though

Remember how you were a good person with animals?

Fawkes took a loving to you. You were his last tie with hogwarts and he managed to lend a few tears, sealing any major wounds.

You smiled at the creature, giving it loving pets and thanking him

Everyone was relieved to see you safe, especially Draco.

You were a crying mess though when you were with Tonks and Remus in their final moments, asking you to make sure Teddy ended up with Harry or you.

You agreed and had a full blown meltdown when they died.

With you being in the medical wing many people saw that mark.

So now you were in immediate danger

Then that time came where Harry was killed.

Your heart pounded and you swallowed hard seeing your dead friend in Hagrid's arms.

Everyone was divided and you decided that wherever Draco went you would follow.

Draco whispered a quick plan that you both would go over to the dark side just to get the elder wand.

You were ending this in whatever way you needed to.

You both did and everyone who stood with Hogwarts was shocked.

Thankfully Neville knew this was a fluke after you looked at them and then him and shook your head, passing it off as you stretching.

That's when Harry came back, gasping for air and falling onto the ground

You slammed into Lucius, Draco grabbing the wand and throwing it to Harry

The battle was in your court now, you being able to fight for the side you really wanted before it reached it's peak

Harry and Voldemort fighting, the magic lighting up the courtyard.

And then... Nothing.

Voldemort was gone and the death eaters knew they were screwed.

Most of them retreated and were later apprehended by the ministry.

Including Draco's parents.

You both were finally free though, both of you finding ways to remove that damn mark.

Molly was grateful for you saving her son and actually threw a proper engagement party now that the war was over

Draco was nervous seeing as Ron never fully trusted him but after he found out that he helped defend Molly from Bellatrix he was all for the guy.

Everyone was finally celebrating, raising glasses to honor the lost ones they couldn't save.

You went on to become a professor for magical creatures

And Draco became a healer, working along side Madame Pomfrey

Later down the road you two had twins.

Cedric and Lindsey Malfoy.

You both assured them that any house was going to be wonderful.

When Harry saw you two again there were smiles

"Potter."

"Malfoy... Still an arse?" Harry asked making you snort as you waved the twins off.

"According to my wife, yes." Draco nodding making Ron and Hermione laugh.

You all went out for dinner, catching up and talking about life

This. This was family

And there wasn't a damn thing you'd change about them either.

[introvertguide]

15 Badass Movies for a Fun Time at Home or with Friends

There is a buzz in the air as COVID-19 vaccines are rolling out and the hope of having a movie night with friends is again becoming a reality. Watching alone isn’t as fun because I want to talk to somebody about what I have just seen. A full theater does not agree with my introvert nature because somebody screaming or laughing or talking on their phone will ruin it for me. Watching with a fellow cinephile or two is perfect. But what to watch first? People have been stuck inside, so fantasy and alternative worlds have been overly popular. All I do is talk over zoom for a living. I think what I need most right now is a movie about realistic people with realistic skills that go into a situation and just wreck house. I need a badass movie. What is this “badass” movie you might say? Well, here are some basic criteria: 1) There must be a tough lead character who kicks butt while spouting one liners and doesn’t need superhuman powers (high levels of peak skill with speed, aim, or strength is OK if they are plausible in the real world), 2) most of the characters (good and bad) must be likable, admirable or at least memorable, 3) the lead must face and defeat overwhelming odds against them, and 4) extra points for memorable one liners. Also, I am only dealing with human protagonists (sorry Terminator), but slightly superhuman opposition is acceptable. This list is by no means exhaustive, it is just an example of some badass movies. So in no particular order:

1) Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

To start off the list, I want to mention the most well known American badass. Indiana Jones is a smart guy with a gun and a whip. He is rugged and punches guys in the face. He has weaknesses but works through them to get the job done. Harrison Ford was in his early 40s for this role and had this tough-as-nails and seen the world kind of feel while still being young enough to fight hand to hand. Any of the first three films featuring Indiana Jones would work here, but this is the original and it started the fun. Easy to watch. Easy to cheer for. Great movie. You can’t really go wrong with any age or group with this one. 

2) 13 Assassins (2010)

This movie is extremely badass but not for everyone. This is one of the goriest films I have ever seen as 13 warriors kill off a couple of hundred soldiers and the evil leader that they guard. The movie was directed by Japanese extreme horror icon Takashi Miike if that means anything to you (hey made Audition and Ichi the Killer). The movie has gallons of blood, but also an amazing story of redemption and honor. There are tons of scenes of a single warrior taking on dozens of soldiers and managing to overcome. Not for everyone, but still very much a badass movie.

3) The Raid (2011)

This is an Indonesian action thriller with the word action in bold. The film is directed by Gareth Evans and stars Iko Uwais as part of a small police force that tries to take down an old building that houses a drug lord and his violent gang. It has a lot of what I like in badass movies: one-on-one fights between the lead and almost superhuman villains, long well-choreographed scenes, a banging soundtrack, ridiculous weapons, and ridiculous gore. The fight scenes in tight places and the use of the environment for weaponry is amazing and the sound design makes sure you can feel every punch. The lead character should have no chance, but he makes up for it with skill and being a pure badass. This movie is one of the few that I would describe as having non-stop action.

4) Jon Wick (2014)

When did Keanu Reeves become so cool? I grew up with him being part of the Bill and Ted duo. He decides to learn martial arts and play a god-like being in the Matrix movies and then becomes a one man wrecking crew? I guess he is a badass because he does it so well. Keanu plays a retired hitman who is wronged and decides to go back to work for vengeance. He just won’t stop coming and seems to constantly survive out of pure hatred alone. There are 3 films in the series and any one of them will impress. Pure fun too watch.

5) Casino Royale (2006)

When I was asking around, there were many people who thought that James Bond was the ultimate badass. I disagree in that many of the older films show Bond as overconfident with the assistance of many people. In fact, Q is more of a badass in many ways than James Bond. However, when the series was taken back to its roots with the last book that had not been made into a serious film and made darker, it reached badass levels. From the parkour chase to a poisoning to an extreme torture scene, this was not like any James Bond movie before it. Roger Craig plays a much colder lead who gives no quarter, much more like what the greatest secret agent would have to be. Heavy on violence but light on gore, this film is more for all audiences than other films on this list.

6) Desperado (1995)

What makes this movie is not all about Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek. It is that every other character is memorable and badass as well. The street standoff with Bucho’s men versus El Mariachi, Quino, and Campo is iconic. El Mariachi murders everyone in a bar with precise skill. The rogue assassin Navajas with all the knives played by Danny Trejo. Nothing but extreme shoot outs and fight scenes with a ridiculous variety of guns and explosives. I think what makes this movie so amazing is that all these amazing assassins are incognito and, when they suddenly produce an arsenal out of nowhere, it is always a pleasant surprise. Quino and Campo are amazing when they bring their guitars. 

7) Pulp Fiction (1994)

Truly the role that made Samuel L. Jackson into the ultimate badass. He and his partner Vincent are hitman that keep running into the worst situations. The thing about the film is that everybody is so cool. The characters are cool, the music is cool, the dialogue is cool, hell even the diner featured in the movie is cool. The movie only spans a couple of days (in completely separate segments shown out of order) but packs in 7 distinct situations that are all berserk. From the mind of Quentin Tarantino, this movie is dripping with the best characters traveling through the best story. Highly recommend.

8) Leon: The Professional (1994)

Also known simply as The Professional in the U.S., this film features the debut of Natalie Portman. It is directed by Luc Besson at his best period, right between La Femme Nakita and The Fifth Element. The lead is actually a quiet hitman who reluctantly takes a little 12-year-old girl on as an apprentice to become a paid assassin. Her parents were killed by a corrupt cop and she wants Leon to help her exact revenge. He is an absolute badass and somewhat of a caring surrogate father to the girl. Unlike a lot of the films on this list, the premise is not simply kicking butt in a bad situation. There is serious character growth. Apparently you can be a caring parent and a cold-blooded murderer...and that is badass.

9) Kill Bill (2003)

Being a badass is not exclusive to men and The Bride is a prime example of this. She survives a shot to the head, kills deadly assassins, slaughters a gang, and takes on a crazy school girl bodyguard. She is tougher then any lead I can think of and she has the bad attitude and sense of vengeance that makes for a badass. Combine this with the soundtrack and beautiful cinematography associated with director Quentin Tarantino and you have a beautifully violent movie in which the hits keep coming. Even on this list, the fight scene between the bride and Gogo Yubari is insane. Also note the nod to Bruce Lee with the bright yellow motorcycle suit. Beautifully badass film.

10) Aliens (1986)

In nature, there are few things more dangerous than a mother protecting their young. A mother will fight you to the death and make sure that, at the very least, you won’t be able to go after her kids. Now imagine an alien planet covered with hostile beings created in the mind of James Cameron and Stan Winston and you have a setting made to create a real badass. In the beginning, Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) is just desperate to survive and barely knows how to use a weapon. She meets a little survivor named Newt and then has a real reason to become aggressive. She and a group of marines fight through a station filled with super destructive xenomorph aliens made straight from nightmares to save this kid. The transformation is truly amazing and culminates in a mech suit versus a giant queen alien and it is extremely badass.

11) Army of Darkness (1992)

Far and away the funniest movie on this list, this is the third film stemming from Evil Dead and again stars Bruce Campbell taking on the deadites that were raised by reading from the Necronomicon. The opposition is the undead evil that faces the world which makes the violence very unrealistic. This was early work from Sam Raimi and features a variety of different shots done to the extreme. What really makes this film stand out is how Bruce Campbell is amazing at delivering a one liner. His classic quips have been used as fun Easter eggs in video games like Duke Nukem and World of Warcraft for decades. The quintessential horror comedy and a perfect example of a badass.

12) Die Hard (1988)

Apparently, I am a big fan of single characters that need to work their way through a building of villains using mostly intelligence and the element of surprise. Throw in some one liners and I am all for it. That is exactly what this is with Bruce Willis crawling barefoot around a 40 story building and fighting off a gang of villains. The movie also has Alan Rickman as the main bad guy and he is chewing the scenery. This is a great example of being a badass, but it is too bad that the follow up sequels were so poor. Definitely stick to the original and let the rest pass by.

13) The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly (1966)

An OG of the badass movie genre, this is some of the best of Sergio Leone and the spaghetti western. Instead of one badass, this movie has three different leads that are all amazing. You have the good, Clint Eastwood, who is an amazing shot and a heart of gold under a rough exterior. You have the bad, Lee Van Cleef, playing an conniving assassin that will kill anyone that he doesn’t have a use for. Finally, you have the ugly, Eli Wallach, as a desert rat that will do anything to survive. They all gain information about a gold stash and need to work together to get it, but this creates a vortex of cheating, undercutting, and straight up murder. Clint Eastwood is more of the classic badass with his cigar, hat, and poncho, It is an iconic look on an iconic character in an iconic movie. That is what I call badass.

14) Ong-Bak (2003)

This less of a badass movie and more houses some of the most amazingly badass fight scenes that can only be described as badass. This movie introduced the great Tony Jaa to the western world and showed the high flying nature of Thai boxing and Muay Thai in general. The main character is entered into a street fighting tournament and the moves include a flying double knee drop and a full splits kick. If the whole movie was the tournament, it would be the best movie that ever existed. The variety of opponents makes the fighting even better and the cinematography is top notch. Tony Jaa is truly badass in this film.

15) Dredd (2012)

Not the crappy version with Stallone, this movie is seriously badass. It features Karl Urban who is helmeted for the entire film (as Dredd would be) taking on a 200 story mega slum filled with residents that want to shoot him dead. There is a drug dealer high up in the building and she locks down the entire compound with instructions to kill Dredd, who only has his rookie partner to help. He takes on random resident mobs, groups of gang members, and even a trio of mini guns that have bullets that can rip through walls. He has a smart gun with a bunch of ammo that he uses judiciously to kill everybody. This movie was seriously underrated since it had not been that long since the garbage Judge Dredd came out in 1995. The 2012 is a far superior movie, being much more violent and dark instead of having Rob Schneider as the comedy relief (not badass).

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I know there will be a lot of opinions about what makes a badass film and what movies i didn’t add. Feel free to add your own movies or critique my choices. I will stand by my choices, however, and recommend any of these films for a night of cheers and badass action.

[shinishinigummy]

Whumptober 2021: Day 2

Talking is Overrated

Hades Fanfiction | Choking

Summary: Zagreus has had enough of Theseus, and decides to try something new in their next encounter. In their battle in Elysium, someone goes a little too far.

Until we meet again, mother.

Eager to reach the summit and the snows of Greece, Zagreus takes up his bow and pierces through countless undead denizens, much like every other day before him.

After receiving the great goddess Demeter's blessing, he opens the double doors to the colosseum. This would lead him to the final trial in his journey through Elysium, which he had loathed since the first time he set foot there, not for the challenge, mind you, but for the man he would be facing.

Zagreus is greeted with the cheers of a thousand spectating souls of the Elysian arena. All around him are watchtowers and seats filled to the brim with the shades and shadows of champions and spectators long past. Grand gold banners featuring the visage of a handsome, bronze-skinned man, and a proud, red-horned bull-man, are hung around the arches. They were Theseus and Asterius, and they represented the cream of the crop, the pride and glory of Elysium.

He's rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation before he even looks up at the duo.

"And here he comes, the foul beast! Come to get pummeled by me and my trusted friend, have you? Well, look no further!" Theseus, the oh-so-mighty champion of Elysium, friend of the gods and of the people. If looks could kill, they could, because his personality radiated look at me - his incredibly toned body, shield and spear in one hand. His friend and fellow fighter, the mighty bull of Minos, sneers at Zagreus.

The heart-seeking bow thrums with pure, unbridled energy in Zagreus’ hand, eager for a fight. Bows are not supposed to have feelings, but somehow, he could feel it radiating annoyance from hearing the notorious speaker.

Zagreus pipes up. "I should say the same thing to you, mate. Why don't you let poor Asterius here talk sometime? He must be bored to death with how much boasting you spew."

The man-bull, Asterius, swings his towering axe, its glint dangerous and shiny. “We’ve talked about this before, short one. I’m indebted to him, and there is nothing more to say about this.”

He was not one for words, as experience puts it. So Theseus speaks for him. “Silence,you wretch! I'll have you know that he has no time to talk with knaves like you. You’ll never achieve anything, and if it takes the will of the gods to come and teach you a lesson, then I happily oblige.”

Theseus raises his spear, and the audience cheers in anticipation.

“Now die!”

Asterius huffs and charges down the arena as Zagreus dashes away to prepare a frosted arrow. With not a word, Zagreus’ frozen arrows fire true at the bull. At the same time, he dodges the attacks coming at him from Theseus’ spear. His moves are fluid and efficient - one charged arrow after another, and he smirks as he sees the already-weaking Asterius, the spring in his charge getting slower by the moment. Theseus, on the other hand, seems not to be bothered at all by this, and remains sneering at him, not a scratch on his toned body. Still, that damned champion keeps talking.

“Back, foul daemon, or be vanquished even faster than you've come to expect!"

It has been many attempts before he’s come to familiarize himself with the duo’s moves. Theseus always proves to be a difficult one as he's always kept his distance, and when Zagreus comes close enough to strike, he holds out his shield, laughing all the while. Setting himself between one of the podiums, he easily dodges Asterius’ axe bearing down upon him, but somehow he was grazed by a shockwave of purple energy, scoring him across his right leg.

“Argh! You..” Zagreus winces in pain. He stands up - there was no room for error here - and situates himself in another podium as he takes a bloodstone to cast a fog of thunder and poison. As soon as Asterius charges towards him, he throws the bloodstone in the air and it explodes in a haze of purple and yellow, temporarily stunning the bull-man.

Zagreus then calls upon Artemis to finish the job. In a flash of green, the hunter's seeking arrow bears down on Asterius and he screams as he drops to the ground, lifeless. In the underworld, no one truly dies - so the blood of the river Styx comes to claim his body, to be resurrected once more.

“Asterius, no!”

Theseus growls. Across the colosseum, Zagreus can feel the anger and sadness in his opponent’s voice as he prepares to cast another festive fog in his direction. The crowd roars with anticipation as Theseus throws his spear in Zagreus' direction, and he successfully pierces his shoulder, eliciting a surprised yelp.

“What, blackguard, had enough? We're just getting started!” Theseus stops for a moment, and calls upon a favor from Olympus.

“Lord Ares, give me your power!”

The arena suddenly darkens, and there is a chill that makes Zagreus’ stomach drop. All around Zagreus, deathly, bloodstained blades materialize out of nowhere and threaten to drop at his head anytime. Zagreus prepares to fire an arrow, but suddenly feels a pierce at his lower right side. It hurt, but he had to keep pressing forward, finding an opening where he could rest and nock a frosted arrow once more. All the while, Theseus comes nearer to him, taking his spear while avoiding the frenzy of Ares’ blades.

“I could destroy you, right here, right now. But not yet. I want to see you suffer and bleed out across the arena, just like what you’ve done with my Asterius!”

Zagreus was not at his peak performance. His carelessness led him to be struck by another blade as the wind got knocked out of his chest. Theseus closes the distance between them. His spear presses onto his bleeding side, and Zagreus can feel the pain blossom and explode. He screams as he feels life leave him, and Theseus smirks in smug satisfaction.

“There we go--" and the spear presses ever deeper. "--The gods are in my favor, and I will do everything I can to prove that I am qualified for that. Without their blessings, you are nothing. This help from Lord Ares is nothing, as even without it..” The spear in Zagreus’ side connects with the wall behind him, and Zagreus cries out in pain. “I can crush you, like the little vermin you are. I’m here to stop you from accomplishing whatever it is you want to do beyond here, Zagreus, because you’re not worthy--”

Theseus chokes on his words as Zagreus’ screams, darkness enveloping his body as he defies death. He feels life come back to him and his newfound strength gives him the energy to take an arrow and slash at Theseus’ face. In a flurry, Zagreus turns the tables. He takes out the spear on his side and takes Theseus by the neck, slamming him onto the wall of the colosseum. He takes his spear and with much force, stabs Theseus on the heart with it, and into the void Theseus screams.

“Khh.. what--”

“Shut up, Theseus. You’re the vermin. Not me.”

A blade comes down to deal damage to Zagreus but he endures the pain as it slices his right arm. Theseus is on the ground, nearly lifeless, a gaping hole in the middle of his proud chest. In his fury he tries to reach for his spear but Zagreus merely stabs it onto the hole he’s already made, blood quickly pouring out of it. At the same time he raises his foot, stepping on Theseus’ mouth to prevent him from speaking again.

In the same fashion that Asterius had exited, so too did Theseus. There was fear in his blue eyes as Theseus looked up to see Zagreus and his mismatched eyes with a crazed look. There was a fury that was not there before. Perhaps, he thought, he had said something wrong. Perhaps, he thought, he had gone too far. His body gives in as the floor becomes liquid, the river Styx claiming his body.

The crowd in Elysium cheers as only Zagreus is left alone in the colosseum, the indication that he was the victor. But Zagreus does not look up. He remembers Theseus’ words, as he recalls that that was the first time he has ever addressed him by his name. Somehow, that scared him. Perhaps, he had gone too far.

He takes his strides as he collects the bounty of ambrosia in the middle of the arena. He raises a hand towards the singular shade that has a banner with his visage on it, and he wondered what they thought about their actions in the battle. But he cannot talk, as he has much to think about.

As silently as he had entered, Zagreus headed toward the double doors that lead to the Temple of Styx open up to him, leaving behind the audience of Elysium.

[tossawary]

Chapter 25: “Home Sweet Home” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary. 

-

 Anyway, Shang Qinghua makes himself  so fucking sincerely annoying that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators can’t figure out how to politely tell him to fuck off fast enough. Shang Qinghua makes outlandish assumptions about how many thieves there are (at least a dozen, he’s sure, probably twice that) and what methods they might be using (special invisibility talismans, he suspects); Shang Qinghua repeatedly apologizes for being too busy with important things for Cultivator O.B.B. at the last Immortal Alliance Conference, then tries to commiserate with the man about having to get important things done without getting any respect for it; Shang Qinghua also anxiously wonders if they should all go to Zhao Hua Temple Sect to report what happened here, since there’s a troublesome demon and also some sneaky rogue cultivator thieves on the loose out here! He gets turned down immediately, but assures everyone that he’ll at least let Yue Qingyuan know everything that happened here right away! 

 Liu Qingge pretty much just stands there scowling silently the entire time - he’s no Shen Qingqiu for sheer menacing  "I can and I will ruin your entire life"  glares, but he’s still pretty intimidating. He does a great job! No notes! 

 Shang Qinghua nearly pats himself on the back as he and Liu Qingge leave less than an hour after he arrives.  “Holy shit, I’m good,”  he thinks, a little giddy with the successful extraction.  “That’s a skill that good ol’ Liu-Shidi will never have!” 

 -

AN: Of course this has a high chance of backfiring. Is Shang Qinghua going to weave webs of lies anyway? Of course. 

Love the fact that Shang Qinghua can shamelessly act like a total pushover, while actually manipulating someone so that he gets the results he wanted. Some snobby sect leader walks into a negotiation room, prepared to use SQH as a doormat, and Shang Qinghua is probably internally like, “Bro, me and my jelly spine welcome you to hell.” 

- 

 He gives them the rundown on what happened, but, to his complete lack of surprise, that doesn’t seem to satisfy interrogators like his little sister-in-law and his fellow transmigrator. They have so many questions! And Shang Qinghua doesn’t have enough answers for them! 

 No, he doesn’t know what Huan Hua Palace Sect knows or thinks they know. No, he doesn’t know how they knew about that place. No, he doesn’t know whether the monster was just a local opportunist preying on distracted cultivators or something more sinister. No, he’s not experimenting with the creepy special item or discussing it at length here. No, Luo Fanli and Peerless Cucumber are not allowed to poke at the creepy special item! 

 Why the fuck would he ever let them do that?! 

 All Shang Qinghua knows is that Luo Fanli and Peerless Cucumber should eat their vegetables and then go to bed! Because they all have a long journey back to the sect in the morning! And also that words cannot describe how painfully old he feels as soon as he says this. 

-

AN: I’ve been thinking about a Demon Trio fanfic in which Mobei-Jun finds himself in a similar position with Luo Binghe and Sha Hualing. 

Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are, like, bare minimum twice the age of Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan. Like, yes, neither Mobei-Jun nor Shang Qinghua are old old by the standard of the PIDW world. Yes, MBJ and SQH are stunted as all get out. But the fact that they have bare minimum 2x the life experience as Bingqiu is, in my opinion, funny as hell and severely underused in fanfiction. 

Like, imagine Mobei-Jun unintentionally dadding new demon LBH in SVSSS. Mobei-Jun being like, “Don’t eat the meat from this monster. It makes you hallucinate.” Or being like, “These people aren’t politically important enough to be shown this kind of respect. Look down on them properly and go sleep, or no one will ever respect you again in demon politics.” 

MBJ looking at SVSSS LBH and SHL like, “Damn, who raised you?” 

Because, like, I love to joke about Mobei-Jun being an oblivious fool, but that’s in regards to human culture. Mobei-Jun operating on demonic culture + his level of arrogance in regards to how he’s handling SQH suggests that MBJ can be politically savvy among demons when he wants to be. Also, the mental picture of MBJ being like, “Eat your weird demon vegetables, there’s nothing wrong with them, you picky half-breed brat,” is extremely funny. 

I’ll probably turn this into a separate post. 

- 

Shang Qinghua does  not  miss the man’s unconcealed  “oh, great, some of my favorite problem people are back, probably with bad news”  expression when they arrive. The man is not at all impressed to hear about the drugged-up Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders or the evil, murderous, madness-inducing plant they fought on their mission, but the Qian Cao Peak Lord is reluctantly, partially placated by the jar of three-eyed skeleton tears Shang Qinghua super thoughtfully brought back for his inspection. Mu Qingfang really likes his research projects! 

 Shang Qinghua lets himself feel kind of good about this gift - he’s the man who gets things and gets things done - and ignores the Weeper’s Eye whispering in his head,  “He has resigned himself to the untimely deaths of everyone he knows.” 

 (Wow. Oh, Shang Qinghua knows that feeling!) 

-

AN: Mu Qingfang doesn’t think that everyone around him is inevitably going to die, he’s just extremely aware of how dangerous the world is and how reckless cultivators can be. Also, for many years, he was fairly certain that Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu were headed for bad ends. 

This felt like a good place to insert some optimism back into the sect in general. Luo Fanli has been cured and is willingly going to visit her sister, Liu Qingge has got a hold on his self-destructive tendencies, Mu Qingfang thinks things are getting better, Shen Qingqiu’s health problems have been essentially fixed, Qijiu might actually work their shit out, Shen Yuan shares his real name with Shang Qinghua, and so on and so forth. 

It felt like a good contrast with and buildup towards Luo Binghe’s Skinner mistake (not everything is rosy yet, there are still growing problems), the secret basement, and the encounter with Bing-Ge. 

Only to flip that around and then bring some surprise Moshang into things! 

- 

“I have now been informed that, after learning that you had returned and, at the very least, completing the duties that were intended to have him reflect on his actions, he has disappeared yet again,” Shen Qingqiu continues. “This second disappearance has set some of the other junior disciples into a renewed panic, which has concerned some of the senior disciples, which was, apparently, cause to alert me.”   

 “Ah,” Shang Qinghua says. 

-

AN: Shen Jiu should not be in charge of a bunch of children, but it is funny to imagine him going through the same “be a less shit person” adoption process as Shang Qinghua. Like, oh, it would be so easy for him to be cruel about this situation, but fuck you if he’s going to be outdone in the recovery and redemption process by Shang Qinghua of all people. 

Shang Qinghua: *grows into a kind of decent person* 

Shen Jiu: “Fuck you. That’s not allowed.” 

Shen Jiu: “...” 

Shen Jiu: “Well, if THAT FUCKER of all people can do it...” 

- 

 Shang Qinghua doesn’t have to look long or far to find his nephew. He finds the young protagonist sitting despondently on the doorstep of his own Leisure House, sniffling into his sleeve. Peerless Cucumber of all people is sitting beside him and keeping him company. 

  “Focusing on other people’s lives is easier than looking at his own.” 

 “-think a drowning man first has to save himself… or else he’s only going to bring down the people he’s trying to save,” Peerless Cucumber is saying. 

 Binghe nods. 

- 

AN: Going by, like, the everything of SVSSS, Shen Yuan really is the asshole going, “I’ll die before I look inwards to recognize and deal with my own emotions.” Also, going, “Yes, I’m a hypocrite who won’t take my own advice. And what about it?” What a repressed nerd. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua clears his throat to get their attention. Both kids (well, teenager and young adult, but still...  kids)  look up and then stand up quickly. Luo Binghe takes a forgetful step forward, before he wobbles into an appropriate respectful bow instead. 

 “Shang-Shishu!” 

  “How dearly this boy is loved!”  the Weeper’s Eye declares, in its soft way inside Shang Qinghua’s head.  “More than life itself! More than death itself!” 

 “Ah, never mind all that,” Shang Qinghua says, and steps forward to wrap his nephew in a quick hug instead, keeping the creepy talking eye oriented away from his nephew. “You’re a little too late to talk to me about your mission before your shizun did.” 

 Binghe, who was just relaxing into the unexpected hug, freezes. 

 Shang Qinghua knowingly pats the poor young protagonist on the back.

  “Oh, shit” is right! 

- 

AN: Uncle Shang really is adorable. Still kind of knocks me for a loop writing it, though, given that the SVSSS SQH and LBH relationship is... nothing like this whatsoever. Look upon the field of SQH and LBH content and see that it is relatively barren except for the stubborn motherfuckers with excellent taste in character exploration. 

-

  “Ahhh, well, I’ll be there too for this potential family reunion, bro,” Shang Qinghua assures him. “Maybe we can finally get to the bottom of where this ‘Shen Yuan’ name came from.” 

 Peerless Cucumber makes a strange expression. 

 “What?” 

 “...It’s my name.” 

 “What?” Shang Qinghua repeats. 

 “It’s my name,” Peerless Cucumber says again, quietly. “It’s my real name.” 

 “Oh.” 

  “Huh,” Shang Qinghua thinks, having been operating on the assumption that the System made the name up for its mysterious backstory. Well, that gives new dimensions to Peerless Cucumber’s criticism of the scum villain! 

 “You can use it,” Peerless Cucumber says, with an air of determined nonchalance. “Everyone else is doing it.” 

 “Ah, alright. Thanks.” 

- 

AN: This is probably the part where I would have made Shang Qinghua reveal his original name in turn... IF HE HAD ONE. It drives me... kind of wild that we get the Airplane Extras and we STILL don’t get 1) Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky’s original name, and 2) MOBEI-JUN’s name. 

Which actually makes things a little more interesting here, in my opinion, even though not having those names gets a little frustrating in terms of fanfiction writing. With Mobei-Jun, you get to explore the fucked up possibilities of him not having a name outside of his identity as the future Northern King. With Shang Qinghua, you get to explore him being a squirrelly little fuck who refuses to let anyone into his life. 

So, because we don’t have Airplane’s name, we actually get this mildly interesting dynamic in which Shang Qinghua doesn’t even really think to reveal it to Shen Yuan. We don’t see this part, but Shen Yuan is actually a little miffed by this degree of secrecy, which is going to come up later. (Shen Yuan doesn’t like the fact that Shang Qinghua has as much power over him as he does.) 

I personally do not hold the headcanon that Airplane’s name was “Shang Qinghua”. It’s a little too on the nose for me. At that point, the only reaction to transmigrating into SQH kind of has to be, “Ah, well, I was asking for that!” Maybe Airplane projected his worst qualities onto Shang Qinghua, but I don’t think he went so far as to give the character his own name. 

Airplane’s main identity when he died appears to have been Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky, and we know that he wasn’t particularly close to his divorced parents and any step- or half-siblings. So, the only names that are really relevant post-transmigration are “Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky” and “Shang Qinghua”. By the time that SY gets here, he’s firmly entrenched in those identities, and his original name is completely irrelevant. I could honestly believe that Airplane just doesn’t think it matters anymore. 

- 

 Shang Qinghua’s nephew, in the way of a true young protagonist or  fucking cannon fodder, got the bright fucking idea to slip away to speak with the concubine called Butterfly privately. 

 “I thought: what if she didn’t want to speak in front of that lecherous old man? What if she wanted to get away from him?” Binghe confesses. 

 “She was the demon,” Shang Qinghua guesses. 

 Binghe nods, voice breaking. “It was…  I was  really,  really stupid, Uncle.” 

 “Well, at least you know that,” Shang Qinghua sighs, and pats his sniffly nephew on the back again. 

 Oh, he can see why Shen Qingqiu was  pissed the fuck off now. Shang Qinghua kind of wants to start yelling! Or maybe just screaming, coherently or otherwise! 

 Except yelling isn’t going to help much right now. 

 Shang Qinghua listens as Luo Binghe recounts being captured by the demon and then waking up bound by Immortal Binding Cables - of being so terrified that he could barely breathe with it. His only hope was Ning Yingying and Ming Fan tattling on his disappearance and a senior disciple tracking him down on time. The skinner demon apparently nearly killed Binghe, crooning over his young and beautiful skin, except a flash of warm light intervened and dropped an unstable part of the ceiling in on them before they could hurt the captured protagonist. 

 “Fu-Shijie and Shizun arrived after that and k-killed it,” Binghe says. “Uncle, it was all  stupid luck!  Shizun said I should have been dead and that, between my efforts and the demon’s, he had no idea how I wasn't! And he was right! It was  so close! If the ceiling hadn’t fallen in like that-! Fu-Shijie suggested the ropes might be faulty and it could have been an unconscious use of spiritual energy, but I didn’t do anything! It wasn’t me!” 

 It  sounds like the System to Shang Qinghua, intervening again at a crucial moment to prevent the premature death of the protagonist. Just thinking about how close his nephew came to dying without him knowing is nearly enough to inspire a cold sweat! Shang Qinghua can’t speak about the System, so all he can really do is keep hugging! Keep holding on for dear life and saying soothing nothings to his crying nephew! 

- 

AN: I wanted to include the Skinner mission, but I didn’t want to redo it onscreen because that’s been done in many fanfictions before and I felt that there was really no good reason for Shang Qinghua to be a part of it. The reason I wanted to include it is to show how the plot is off the track of the SVSSS (and PIDW) stories, with the changed LBH and the changed Original SQQ. 

LBH wants to be a hero, but he’s not there yet. 

- 

 “...Don’t put yourself above him… or below him. Tell him what you want and listen to what he wants, and don’t be surprised if things don’t change all at once,” Shang Qinghua advises and, at Yue Qingyuan’s look, quickly raises his hands. “Ahhh, not my business, I know! Not my business! I just… I hope it works out! I hope you two get something better out of this mess! Aha, make the sect meetings a little less awkward and… things.” 

  “He has never known what better looks like. He will always be Yue Qi, the slave boy. No matter what he does.” 

 “...Thank you,” Yue Qingyuan says finally, thoughtfully. “I appreciate your… restraint in this matter… in recent months.” 

 Aha, yikes. 

-

AN: I know that some people wanted more stomping on Yue Qingyuan, but... like... this man is as or nearly as traumatized as Shen Qingqiu. His childhood fucking sucked. He broke his own soul trying to save Shen Jiu and failed. He made some shit decisions where Shen Qingqiu was concerned, but the logic and trauma he’s operating on are pretty obvious. He was trying. 

Part of the theme around the Qijiu and Moshang arcs has also been “an eye for an eye”. Like, are you guys really going to keep on not communicating with each other and then fucking up and then taking chunks out of each other? How many misunderstandings and upset over misunderstandings are you going to throw at each other? Where do you put your foot down and say, “I don’t want to live like this forever. We can be better than this. I want better than this.” 

Like, it can’t just be hurting each other back and forth (this applies to Qijiu more than Moshang, in which MBJ definitely carries the weight of this fuck-up). It can’t just be privately nursing hurt feelings forever. The options here are “fix it” or “live like this forever”. Fixing it won’t happen immediately, but the other option fucking sucks, so every little step helps. 

So Shang Qinghua here is just like, “Bro, I’m tired. My anger has cooled a lot. I just want all our lives to suck less. I hope things work out for you.” 

[yandere2me2]

Hi there! First, I just wanted you to know that I really enjoy your writing. I don’t know most of the characters you write for, but I still am able to understand who they are as people from your works which is really cool!! Secondly, I was hoping I could hear your thoughts on the Obey Me characters? You can do as little or as many as you want, whatever you’re comfortable with. And finally, I just wanted to say I hope you have a good day!

Thanks anon! So far I’ve only written a few things, but if you wanna check out what characters I’ll write for, check out my newly posted rules post - for any fandom listed, I’m good writing any character so long as the other rules are followed (ex: any Obey Me character but Luke since he looks and acts like a child).

Since no limit was placed, I’ll just do some general headcanons for the first 4 brothers for now. Know that I’m willing to write about any other characters in Obey Me aside from Luke for future requests :)

So without further ado, some yandere Obey Me bros (under the cut because this got LONG)!

TW: implied/mentioned forced captivity, manipulation, unhealthy relationship standards, non-con/dub-con, degradation, voyeurism  

Lucifer

Sadistic - but that’s a given with the game information. To be more specific, he sets strict rules for his darling and is very much a control freak; he has so many things going on in his life that he has to manage out of necessity, but his darling is a special case he’ll gladly take on 

If his darling breaks a rule, he enjoys doling out punishments. What type of punishment depends on his mood, the type of incident his darling caused, and if their actions affected Diavolo. God help them if if they insult Diavolo

Possessive with a capital P. His darling is his. No one gets to see them fall to pieces under his hands but him. No one gets to bring them to the peak of pleasure but him. They will fear him the most above all others if that’s the way his darling must cope with his methods. Lucifer would prefer an amicable relationship, but he understands he’ll be met with resistance with the standards he has

Praise will come rarely, so any darling that craves it will have to earn it by being on their best behavior. If his darling does manage to get him to praise them, he’s in a very good mood and will be more open to requests (he won’t let them go, but some new books, hobby materials, or food options are fair game)

He’s a yandere that will lock his darling away for their safety as well as his own comfort and ease. Dangers are everywhere in Devildom, and he knows his darling will manage to find trouble if left to their own devices or with his brothers. He’s not going to risk it. Besides, he’ll have a better hold on his darling if he’s the only one they interact with daily

Going off the last point, Lucifer would also hide his darling away to avoid Diavolo’s attention. By my read on their relationship, Lucifer holds little power to oppose Diavolo thanks to their pact, and Diavolo wanting in on Lucy’s darling would frustrate him beyond words - can’t he have just one thing for himself? I’ll be writing more on a Diavolo/Lucifer/Darling situation after requests are filled, but BOY do I wanna write about this now

Mammon

He’s needy. Mammon craves affection from his darling in any amount they’re willing to give. He’ll be the first to deny it if his darling or someone else points it out, but everyone knows

He Does Not Like To Share His Darling! At all!!! He will pout and whine and get even more clingy if he thinks his darling so much as looks at someone else with interest (imagined or not) - especially his brothers

His punishments are usually to reassure himself that he’s in charge, that his darling did him wrong and they should be grateful he’s their protector, that he even bothered to notice them in the first place. Any other demon would have left them to fend for themselves; he is the best demon a puny human like his darling could ask for

That said, when he isn’t worked up he’s very much a sub in his relationship with his darling and aims to please them. Praise doesn’t come too often for him, and he loves when he can get any positive affirmation. He’ll get testy if his darling outright insults him

He wouldn’t think about locking his darling away until much later. After his darling grows accustomed to living in Devildom, after Mammon starts realizing and (unwillingly) accepting his feelings, he notices how close his darling is with his brothers and the others, how easily they could be stolen away from him… he doesn’t like it one bit

Mammon wouldn’t think much about his plan before he sets things in motion by making a deal with some witches to set up a private space for him and his darling that no one can reach without his say-so. This of course incurs a ton of debt that he’s confident he’ll pay off in a jiffy (he won’t) and he only leaves when he needs to handle paying off his debts or deal with some Devildom official business - he’s the second most powerful demon brother under Lucifer, so as obnoxious as Mammon could be about how “important” he is, he’s not entirely wrong

If he’s in a good mood, he’ll spoil his darling as best he can with any material good he can think they’ll like. Just name it and it’s theirs. Unless of course they upset him, then he’s just as quick to take any privileges he gives away and remind them who’s in charge. It makes him hurt to have to punish his darling, so he tries to avoid it unless he thinks they need a reminder of who has to make the rules around here

Leviathan

Levi doesn’t have much experience with darlings compared to his brothers - throughout the thousands of years he’s lived alongside his brothers, he prefers to shut himself away most of the time. He’s had the least amount of darlings in his lifetime, and when they pass on he secludes himself to fantasize about his perfect darling (who’s usually based on a combination of anime characters and past darlings he’s had)

He’s so insecure, constantly worrying how he isn’t good enough that he bullies his darling into having them convince him that he’s who they want. His darling better be convincing though; if he senses pity or fear or anything else that takes away from their sincerity, he won’t be kind when he’s punishing them

He’s almost as overbearing as Mammon - that’s a feat in itself. Levi won’t isolate his darling though; he’ll manipulate and guilt his darling into wanting to stay with him to avoid his ire. They’ll manage to step on his toes in one way or another, finding some unspoken overstep as an excuse to point out their flaws

Honestly the “transport yourself into a video game” trope opens up so many fun options for Levi to play with his darling. He has games (similar to the one we witness in canon) where he and his darling can spend virtual weeks together without anyone to disturb them. He has games he knows his darling hates - horror games that are gruesome for demons, let alone a human, where his darling can’t escape and can die as many times as it takes for Levi to be pleased before he transports them back out. He has naughty games for when he wants to import his darling to watch them endure whatever scenarios fit his fancy - anything from tentacle porn to gangbangs. By the end of it, his darling will be so grateful to be back in the real world they’ll be begging to stay with him, just as long as they don’t have to go back in a game. Levi uses the affection to his advantage

He forces role play on his darling - Levi as the Lord of Shadows and his darling as his precious Henry. His darling better learn their lines and how Levi likes them to respond if they want to stay on Levi’s good side

His darling’s wardrobe consists of mostly Ruri-chan and Henry cosplay Levi purchases for them. No you can’t change my mind

Of course, if his darling isn’t in a game or reading some top manga series, Levi’s talking about it to them or having them watch/read along with him. He just wants to share what he enjoys with the person he treasures, even if they’re just a simple normie human

Satan

Earlyon, his darling is warned by the other brothers that his smile is fake, that he’scynical and shouldn’t be trusted. But out of all the brothers, he comes acrossas one of the least intimidating, so it’s easy to gravitate towards him

Tbhhe’s likely not interested in his darling at first – humans are lessercreatures to demons, food for most and potentially nuisances when one makes apact with a powerful demon. Until he finds something noteworthy, like how quicklyMammon forms a pact with this human, he doesn’t see much potential

He’s pretty reasonable up until he’s angry; for a darling surrounded by dangers and demons,he appears to be the least likely to harm them, and they accidentally push one of hisbuttons at some point. Once his limit is reached, he is terrifying – wrath isin his name and he lets his darling know when he’s displeased

After the first time he loses his temper, he’ll givehis darling clear warnings before he punishes them. He uses his darling’s fearof his punishments to his advantage, encouraging “good” behavior with thethreat of “or else” in the background

He has some notable similarities with the eldest brother: a sadistic streak a mile long and a preference to dominate/need for control to ensure his darling is undoubtedly his. How Satan shows these traits is different in key ways, however

Satan is sadistic more often when he’s feeling neglected, miffed, or bored with his darling. He’s not as strict as Lucifer, actually allowing his darling the freedom to act on their own accord in most cases. It gives his darling the chance to show him how much devotion they are willing to give him without him commanding it. If he gives an order, however, he expects his darling to obey

Unlike Lucifer, Satan doesn’t have the risk of things going Bad if something doesn’t go his way; Lucifer needs to please Diavolo or risk failing on his end of the pact, and so control is key for him. Satan likes control, but to the extent of knowing he has the final say. Satan doesn’t want to control every aspect of his darling - at the end of the day he wants his darling to voluntarily choose him, even if only out of fear of his displeasure - but he will have them

Satan has his own possessive habits - he needs affirmations that his darling is his. Either he’s marking them in some primal way or he has his darling reassure him through their actions

He stalks his darling. Have you seen how aware he is of his brothers’ activities in-game? It’s almost unnerving in some situations - and that’s just canon material. Satan watches his darling out of curiosity at first before it grows into an obsession for him. After a while he knows every little detail, every mannerism, every preference. All those outings he asked his darling to join him on before he actually clarifies he wants to date them? They’re all used as opportunities for Satan to review later

Advice to any darling of his: Do NOT compare him to Lucifer if you know what’s good for you. Just. Don’t. He won’t kill you, but you will wish he did by the time he’s through with you

I say this as several of my points are comparing his similarities/differences with Lucifer hahaaaaaaaa sorry Satan

[g-perla]

The ACOTAR Series is a Romantic/Gothic Horror Stage and Only Nesta Got the Memo

Not even SJM knows what’s going on.

Ok, this is going to seem off the rails but bear with me.

So I'm a big fan of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (top 5 books and all that jazz) and I was thinking about it because it deals with themes of the Other and the supernatural, Nature as Character, the overlap of the animalistic and human, blurring of established binaries...fun, Romantic shit like that. Interestingly, this overlaps with how SJM illustrates her world and characters a lot of the time, hence why I was considering it while working on my Nesta project. I’ve mentioned before that Nesta really gives me Byronic heroine vibes and that’s a character construct of precisely this literary tradition.

I started thinking about Heathcliff and Cathy and how they're ridiculously extra and just feel the most intense emotions towards each other but also towards literally everything (nothing half-assed ever, this is a Romantic novel after all). I then remembered how so many people ship them, but like in earnest, in a totally aspirational way. It's not a #cursed ship to them at all. It's...romantic to them not Romantic. I even read often that people quote it at their weddings, specifically the infamous "two souls" quote.

Then I had an epiphany. I was like "wait, what if SJM is one of those people?? What if she has the energy of a Cathy/Heathcliff earnest shipper and that's why all her ships are messy??" Because if that is the case, my friends, oh boy oh boy would it explain so much. I will post some sections from Wuthering Heights:

Doesn’t the acotar series seem like a 1/50 dilution of that energy?? And that is barely a taste of all the spiciness this book has to offer. To illustrate further: SJM gave us the F/eysand suicide pact and the near-death battlefield Nessian scene. One is certainly more outlandish than the other, but both are the result of intense emotions. To that Emily Brontë raises the following: Heathcliff asking the sexton to dig up Cathy’s grave to see what’s up because her ghost has been haunting him since he personally dug up her grave 18 years prior and she has been haunting him ever since. He later demands to be buried in the same exact grave when he dies so they can decompose together. They both married other people though which only adds to the mess. (I am not lying to you the Romantic tradition really gave us these gems lmao. As an aside, Mary Shelley was also a writer of the Romantic tradition and she confessed her love to husband Percy Bysshe Shelley on her mother’s grave. Her mother was liberal feminist icon Mary Wollstonecraft by the way which only makes this even more amazing. Additionally, biographers believe that the Shelleys also had sex there. Talk about Romantic 😉.)

Then I had ANOTHER thought! (Dangerous)

If we read the series from the point of view of just another YA high fantasy things might get a bit boring because the world-building is honestly lazy and the magic system is pretty soft, which isn’t a pre-requisite in high fantasy (The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system) but it's not the norm and it doesn't pay off in this series. Not to mention that the plot is pretty lackluster and derivative. To add to that the romantic and sexual relationships are questionable in their healthiness and consequently are the source of much argument in the fandom. 

But, dear reader, if we think about the ACOTAR series as being a sort of thematic and ideological 21st century YA homage to the Romantic tradition of the 19th century (within which Gothic Horror also lives), things get REALLY, REALLY SPICY.

No longer do we just have a romance fantasy with messy, hyper-emotional, animalistic characters who constantly partake in morally grey situations rife with dubious dynamics. No longer does plot really matter. No longer do we require quasi-scientific descriptions of the world and the magical system. No! All that matters now are the characters and the mood. Now we have potential! Add a lot of Nature ambiance: expanses of dark woods, great mountains, the unknowable and sublime energy of the ocean, a violent rainstorm/hurricane/tsunami, an impending snowstorm whose intensity reflects the growing emotional intensity of the characters as the story goes along (I’m looking at you impending snowstorm in acofas that curiously matches the growing complexity of Nesta’s emotional state). Blur the lines between any imaginable category: life and death, human and animal, known and unknown, Self and Other, beautiful and monstrous, good and evil, masculine and feminine, the list goes on. Most importantly make your readers uncomfortable by frustrating their desires to sort things into easy binary categories and don’t apologise for making them question their assumptions about the world, morality, gender, and any other kind of previously constructed Order. 

Basically write the story with Dionysus-in-a-Greek-tragedy energy and bring to us mere mortals artful Chaos.

Once that is done we can have a literal Romantic/Gothic Horror story.  The Acotar series could have been this unapologetically, with the added element of being told through the eyes of the "Cathy" character instead of through the lens of a third person getting second-hand accounts about what went on. This whole series is honestly enough of a chaotic mess of Byronic-like heroes and heroines and cursed familial relationships that it could have been that. That alone is peak entertainment. The problem, however, and the main reason why I can’t really say that this series truly delivered this wackiness is that SJM committed the act of not fully committing to the bit (very un-Romantic of her, I know). Now, I am not saying that SJM actually intended this. I’m just saying it really could have accidentally been this genius with some tweaks. Unfortunately, she made the crucial mistake of trying to justify too much, trying to make things too neat, too tidy, too sensical (in other words: the reason we really can’t have nice things). 

I could end this here, lamenting the potential of what SJM had set-up for us were it not for one element, one gift:

Nesta 

OHOHOHO DO THINGS GET GOOD HERE SO BUCKLE UP

Most of the characters refuse to fully commit to the bit in their desire to satisfy modern sensibilities, by which I of course mean they want ridiculous things like political power, to conquer lands, to be a Girl Boss, to get married, have kids, celebrate holidays, converse about mundane things, be relatable, etc. You know, pretty pedestrian stuff that only requires a bit of genetic luck, a sprinkle of energy, and the right circumstances within the world of Acotar. I would like to reiterate the beginning of this paragraph: most of the characters. 

Let’s say you’re stubborn and you decide to still read the series through the lens of the Romantic/Gothic tradition, what happens then? 

The most hilarious thing (for the Nesta stans that is. The antis would probably hate this)

Nesta, based on what we know about her through Feyre and the limited amount of other scenes, is the only character who really takes the performance seriously. She's the only one that SJM hasn't managed to confine through justification. Nesta just shows up and simply refuses to make sense (her POWER what a queen 👑). She is endlessly fascinating because she just exists in her world on her terms, established categories be damned, and in this manner she frustrates not only the sensibilities of the characters in the stories but those of the reader as well. This double duty is, I suggest, the result of the other characters not fully inhabiting the nebulous world of Romantic characters and thus being a little too plausible and understandable even if they are not justifiable. 

Ok, you may say, but I relate so much to Nesta. I do understand her. I don’t justify all of her actions, but I understand where she is coming from. (You’re not alone, friend. I like to think these things too. Alas, we are but plebs).

To that I reply; Nesta does things, certainly, and we can spend hours trying to explain through extrapolation, educated guesses, and personal experience why she did those things, but the fact is we really don't know why. We are never explicitly told. Our insight into who she is and her motivations comes predominantly from the understanding of her youngest sister and from our own interpretation of the actions she takes. I must make clear that our own interpretations are rooted in pre-established assumptions about what is sensical and orderly in our own world and in our own lives. We cannot interpret with the tools available to us that which may be, by definition, unfathomable. It is simply paradoxical. Nesta, as we currently know her, is a construct derived from a limited number of scenes and our interpretations and projections of these scenes. Even the scenes where we get third person narration don’t explicitly tell us her motivations and her logic. For all we know there really is no comprehensible reason for her actions and that is endlessly amusing to me in how utterly Romantic it is. Acosf may and likely will change this of course, but as it stands, Nesta is a whole Romantic character. Her divisiveness in fandom and in the narrative could be due in part to her refusal to fit the discrete categories available in her world and ours. 

Isn’t that wonderful?

To illustrate this a bit more I will share some details SJM gives us about her/ elements she sets up that fit in with the characteristics of the Romantic tradition (these are not exhaustive by any means):

The absolute pettiness (and extra-ness) of being so angry at her father’s inaction that she is willing to starve to death to see if he does something.

How in Acowae she is described as shifting between emotions as if she were changing clothes and feeling everything too strongly (probably to the point of destruction)

She is constantly being compared to animals, even when she is still human. Granted, SJM compares everyone to animals, but that strengthens the blurring of lines between usually discrete categories. It is still most powerful when used as a comparison when she is human because it dehumanises Nesta.

Often, SJM describes her characters as forces. Forces of nature, for example. Acofas is full of details like this in relation to Nesta. There is a storm brewing leading up to the solstice party and it is in full swing when she arrives at the townhouse. The language used there suggests that Nesta herself may be the storm (against the onslaught of Nesta). It really adds to the Maleficent energy tbh.

She is often associated with death post her transformation

She is Other even to Others. She was Made like Elain, Feyre, and Amren in a sense, but the process of her specific transformation differentiates her greatly from the others. As it is, she doesn’t fit in anywhere

Her intense attachment to her femininity and its expression are at odds with the ideas and assumptions about the performance of womanhood and a woman’s role in her world and even in ours. She is unapologetically feminine in her physical presentation, but her character, her thoughts, and possibly even desires transgress the unwritten rules of acceptable femininity (unfortunately there still are abject expressions of femininity in our ‘”progressive” mileux

She displays in many of her actions a disrespect towards authority and to the status quo. This is particularly notable when her intensely polarised sense of right and wrong is aggravated.

Her self-destructiveness. This is referred to most strongly in Acofas, but I would say she was remarkably blasé about self-preservation in Acowar as well

She is described as intelligent, cunning, ruthless, attractive, and prone to debilitating extremes of emotionality. All of these are characteristics of Byronic heroes, a subtype of the Romantic hero

Here are a bunch of quotes that touch on many of the elements that I have discussed above:

“I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory...Who had shrouded the loss of our Mother, then our downfall, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared--beneath it she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.” 

--Acotar, emphasis mine, note the strong emotions. This is a recurring element for Nesta.

“Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe...Only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.” 

--Acomaf, animal comparison

“Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield--like the ones Rhys has in his mind.” “Against what?” “Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything--sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”

--Acomaf, emphasis mine

“I knew that she was different [...] Nesta was different [...] as if the Cauldron in making her...had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking the Cauldron with her.”

--Acomaf, Nesta had her own plans for the Cauldron what a queen

“Something great and terrible.”

--Acowar, referring to her eyes. Oooh, spooky Nesta 👻

“The day she was changed, she...I felt something different with her [...] like looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.”

--Acowar, a two in one here: difference + animal comparison. Boy does SJM really go heavy when establishing Nesta as Other.

“‘Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones...’ Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. ‘But...I see the kernel, girl.’ Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. ‘You did not fit--the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed.’ A little nod. ‘I know--what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’“

--Acowar, show don’t tell gets thrown out the window here, but it is useful for the present purposes

“What if I tell you that the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something--something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?

What came out was not what went in [...] How lovely she is, new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter’s sunrise.”

--Acowar, who knew rocks, darkness, and the sea were such gossips, but look how many connections to nature! To be compared to the sea, a significant example of the sublime, is peak Romanticism. If any of you have read Moby Dick, think about what the ocean and the white whale might have represented there and how that might relate to Nesta.

“I think the power is death--death made flesh.”

--Acowar, Feyre referring to the possible nature of Nesta’s power. Alluding to her powers possibly being related to death is quite significant because that is something most of us cannot comprehend, nor can most of the characters. For Nesta, a “reborn” but very much living character to have death associated with her is a strong blurring of the lines. The case of her being labelled a witch is similarly significant as it solidifies the elements of the supernatural while simultaneously comparing her to pretty much the only exclusively female-coded monster in western pop culture. I will touch more on this when I do my study of Nesta through the framework of Barbara Creed’s Monstrous Feminine.

“I am not like the others.”

--Acowar, we love a self-aware queen.

“Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian’s eyes, and angled her head.

The movement was not human.

Not fae.

Purely animal.

Purely predator.”

--Acowar

There are a lot more details and quotes that support this interpretation, but I didn’t write them all down in my archived notes. This post is obscenely long, however, so even though there is more to be said, I’ll leave it for another day. If you made it this far you really are an MVP and probably love Nesta to a concerning degree like me. Please rest your eyes if you’re actually reading this 😂

I’d love to read about any other takes and thoughts that might have come to your minds after reading this monstrosity,

G