#how does that even make sense in terms of world building?

[imagine-darksiders]

Exposure Therapy - Chapter 5.

House Guest.

Strife x Reader.

Summary: When it rains, it pours...

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When you agreed to assist the Horseman by lending him your ‘expertise’ on all things human, just to fuel whatever hare-brained scheme he’s been concocting in his isolation, you had no idea there was an unspoken caveat to the arrangement.

The short but very critical ‘starting right now,’ had gone unsaid.

Perhaps it was optimistic of you to assume you’d have more time to prepare, to come to terms with your strange new reality. At the very least though, you thought you’d have had the opportunity to go home and collapse on your bed, whittling away a couple of hours in blissful ignorance of the world spinning on without you.

If only.

Instead, Strife had rather disconcertingly taken it upon himself to follow you back to your apartment building, apparently dead-set on ‘getting you home safely,’ despite your insistence that he does anything else at all.

You’d even conducted a little experiment to try and get to the bottom of something that's been nagging at you ever since you left him in that alleyway all those days ago. It had worked a treat, and you caught him out spectacularly when you tried to lead him past your apartment complex. The Horseman, sharp as he is, had regardless shown his hand by drawing to a halt in front of the entrance, cocked his helm at you and called, “Uh, where’re you going?”

And oh. Oh! The speed at which you whirled around to face him, mouth pressed into a tight line and your hands planted squarely on each hip, told him exactly where he’d made a mistake.

At least he had the common courtesy to act like he knew he'd done something wrong, ducking the chin of his mask and averting his gaze to avoid your wide-eyed glare.

“So,” you began primly, “You did follow me home that night.”

You didn't pose it as a question, and the Horseman was well aware of that. 

Strife’s luminous eyes flashed in the darkness before they drifted sideways towards his left shoulder. “... Yeah?” he posited, as if what you said was odd, which makes sense when he followed up with a quiet, genuine, “You were hurt?”

And at that… your ire had receded. Only by a fraction, mind.

Perhaps to him, your question-turned-accusation was odd.

You were hurt...

He… probably meant well… you reasoned, giving your head a shake and heaving out a sigh that sent clouds of white condensation billowing through the air. “Okay, well, consider this lesson number one,” you huffed, stalking back the way you’d come and dragging yourself up the steps to the front door, “Humans generally don’t like being followed home. And speaking of home…”

Shoving the door open with an elbow, you hurriedly stepped into the lobby and basked in the curtain of warmth that whooshed over you when you moved inside, humming as the heat prickled at your frozen fingers.

Without turning to spare the Horseman a backwards glance, you released the door, letting it swing shut behind you as you called out, “I think it’s time you went back to – Wh-? HEY!”

The solid mass of armour and leather had bulldozed straight inside after you, catching the door on his arm and shouldering it open again to admit him. Like the giant he is, he'd had to stoop considerably underneath the frame, huffing out a loud grunt and leaving you to back hastily towards the lifts with your eyes on stalks as he unfolded to his full height, the tips of his spiked, black hair brushing the ceiling.

You’d forgotten until then how much larger he is, a titan looming amongst infrastructure made for humans, not Nephilim. You’d forgotten that this is a Horseman, beholden to nobody, especially not to you. And so, your hands fell uselessly at your sides, resigned to the fact that if a Horseman wants to be in here, you're all but powerless to remove him. 

“Who’s that?” he’d asked after taking the briefest of glances around the lobby.

You’d almost tripped over your own feet in your haste to scramble back over to him, realising immediately who he was referring to. “No, no! Shh!” you hissed, skidding to a clumsy halt in front of the Horseman and holding your hands up to try and slow his advance into the building, “I-it’s just Steffan! He’s security!”

Strife’s helm angled down to give you a curious squint before he returned his gaze to the human snoring away behind a desk on the other end of the room, dirt encrusted boots propped up on the wooden vinyl and a book laying open on his rotund stomach. The pages fluttered gently, disturbed by each laborious exhale.

“Please,” you continued, voice reedy and tired as you cast a rapid glance over your shoulder at the guard, “Please, don’t wake him up.”

Because Steffan is famous for his twitchy trigger finger, and you were well aware of the handgun strapped to his hip.

“Security?”

Chills prickled up and down your spine at the sudden dip in Strife’s voice, thick with disapproval and borderline malice.

“This guy’s s’posed to protect you,” he’d growled, “And he’s sleepin’ on the job?”

He took a heavy step forward, his metal boots clanking heavily on the carpet until his armoured torso inadvertently pressed against your palms, stopping the Horseman in his tracks and sending a twinge of pain up your splinted fingers.

You were too focused on flinching at Steffan’s nonsensical grunt to register the discomfort, nor the fact that you were pressing your weight against Strife’s abdomen, anything to keep him from moving closer to the security guard.

Unbeknownst to you, Strife had noticed. His golden eyes dropped to your injured hand and widened considerably, like he knew that moving forward again and exerting any more pressure on the tiny appendage would only cause further damage.

Shooting another glance over your shoulder, your heart dropped like a stone into your shoes at the sight of Steffan’s mouth peeling open into a wide yawn -  a sure fire sign that he was mere moments away from waking up to find a silver giant in his lobby.

Of course, it was then that you panicked. Anyone would panic in your place, you reasoned. And that panic had you switching up your plan in the blink of an eye.

If Strife wouldn’t leave the building…

Out of ideas, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut, you threw caution to the wind and made… a decision.

“Hey?” you whispered urgently, snatching your hands away from his armour and scooping up the first thing you could reach – his gauntlet's forefinger. You tried not to think about how you couldn’t even encircle it entirely with your fist. It was too large.

“You wanna see what a human apartment looks like?” you breathed out in a rush.

And as you’d been dreading, the Horseman suddenly seemed much more compliant. “Can I?” he blurted, blinking down at you in apparent astonishment, but all the same allowing himself to be tugged towards the lifts.

It went unsaid that you wouldn’t have been able to budge him an inch unless he allowed it.

The lifts opened to permit you just as Steffan’s boots slid off the desk, and by the time the doors rumbled shut again, much to Strife’s audible surprise, you caught a final glimpse of the man reaching up to fumble back the rim of his cap, only to find himself blinking wearily out into an empty lobby.

You don’t know whether the Horseman was insulted when you jerked your hand away the very instant those doors closed, but if he cared, he made no mention of it, evidently more intrigued by the interior of the lift.

And you thought he seemed big in the lobby.

In the lift’s awfully limited area, boxed in by three walls and a door, you found yourself squashed right into one of the corners as far from your unwanted chaperone as you could get whilst he filled up every inch of space, even hunching in on himself some to keep his head from banging against the roof.

The whole while, you silently berated yourself for getting inside an enclosed space with a gun-toting Nephilim of all things. What possessed you!?

But later, you’d look back and realise it might have been your only option. He clearly wanted in. And something in you knew it was easier to lure him away from Steffan than it would have been to coax him outside again.

The lift’s weight limit on the control panel flashed amber in warning, but after a whispered prayer to a supposed Creator, the faithful pully system engaged, groaning miserably as it hoisted both you and the exceedingly heavy Horseman all the way up to your floor.

-----

Which leaves you in your current predicament; seated at a tiny, wood-wormed table in your tiny, ramshackle apartment with your tiny hands clenched into tiny fists in your lap.

Tiny… God, it’s all you can focus on.

This is your apartment, you shouldn’t be feeling so small inside it. But with a Horseman actively lumbering around your kitchenette with his sizeable shoulders knocking against the cupboards or the fridge every time he moves, you really can’t help it.

Stiff-backed, you keep your lips pressed into a firm line whilst Strife investigates… everything. Numerous sighs have been swallowed, as have countless yawns.

He’s been at this for some time.

Of all the stupid ideas, throughout all of human history, you think this one might just claim first prize. You all but invited a Horseman into your apartment. You opened the door, gestured inside and followed after him like you'd asked an old friend to come for a visit. And you really thought you might be the one who could bridge the divide between Humanity and Nephilim?

Jesus, your species is doomed. Again. Only this time, you're the one who pulled the trigger. Oh, what a grand plan this was; Get the Horseman into an enclosed space after you just got him out of one, and hope you don't say or do anything that might piss him off enough to level this building, the entire city and - worst case scenario - the rest of the planet.

Tony is going to kill you. 

But... perhaps you're just catastrophising again... It's rather common to find yourself doing that. Once you've lived and died in the Apocalypse, anything seems possible. Even the worst things you could possibly imagine.

However - and as much as you're loathe to give the thought too much traction lest you jinx it -  despite your fears, Strife has thus far been... suspiciously docile. 

And endlessly curious.

“What’s this doo-hickey?”

You straighten up slightly in the chair, blinking back sleep as he turns to you and taps his silver finger against an appliance sitting innocuously on the kitchen counter.

“… That's a toaster,” you supply wearily, braced for his inevitable follow-up question.

“Oh… What’s it do?”

There it is.

You have to make sure the breath you draw in through your nose is completely silent so as not to offend him before exhaling your response.

“It toasts.”

And because you know by now that he won’t be satisfied by that alone… “That means it cooks slices of bread.”

Strife’s eyes glow brilliantly in the dim light of the apartment, almost brighter than the bulb buzzing overhead. If he wasn't an ancient Nephilim armed to the teeth, you'd dare say he looks entranced by your explanation. 

“And then you can eat it, right?”

In the corner of your eye, you can see the door leading to your bedroom. The soft, freshly washed pillows have been calling your name since you left them this morning, the little temptresses, and they certainly haven't let up now that you've returned, not even with a clear and present hazard currently loitering in your kitchen. 

Plastering on a strained smile, you ignore the siren call of ‘bed,’ and blink up at the Horseman, retorting with a curt, “That’s right.”

Comically fast, his chest sticks out with an overabundance of pride at getting a bit of basic human knowledge right, and his gaze burns even more hotly than before. A splash of colour set against an otherwise monochrome canvas of metal.

You don’t know whether to be perturbed or pleased that you can tell what he wants even without him having to say it aloud. Eventually, you chalk it up to intuition.

Then again, perhaps it’s more of an educated guess.

He likely wants the same thing now as he wanted with the kettle, the microwave, the light switch by the door, the fridge, the inside of the fridge, the light inside of the goddamn fridge…

A demonstration. 

You’ve been at this for a while.

You nearly forget yourself and heave a put-upon sigh before you remember who you’d be sighing at. Cramming your lips together instead, you push yourself out of the chair and stiffly move over to the bread bin, squeezing past the Horseman who continues to take up most of your kitchen while his eyes burn a curious hole into the side of your head.

Paranoid as you are to have your vulnerable back turned to him, you refuse to look over your shoulder, instead rolling up the lid of the bin and clumsily swiping up a slice of bread. Then, shuffling sideways, you keep your back to the Horseman as you sidle around the circumference of your kitchen until you reach the toaster, where you’re quick to slip the future toast inside and jam the lever down until it sticks.

Strife makes a sound in the base of his throat when the bread disappears.

“And now,” you exhale, gathering yourself for a second before you twist about and lean against the counter, trying not to gulp at your proximity to the massive Horseman, “We wait.”

“Wait?” Strife parrots, only a little impatient.

“Yup.” Popping your lips on the ‘p,’ you stare at a spot just below his chin, counting the tears and holes in his cowl in favour of making eye contact. “Just like with the kettle.”

Knocking his head back, Strife lets out a petulant groan. “Ugh.”

“Ugh,” you agree succinctly, though yours has little to do with the cooking process of bread. 

For quite some time, the pair of you simply hover at opposite ends of the kitchen, stuck in a silence that's only broken by the analogue clock ticking away on the wall above your bedroom door. You've allowed your gaze to drop even further to flit between Strife's weapons, the gun in its left holster, and then the one on the right. Both stark reminders of the peril he brings just by being here. But studying the guns is all you can do to distract yourself from feeling his attentive stare on your face. He was so curious about your apartment before, why has he stopped to stare at you now? 

An uncomfortable heat starts to spread from below the collar of your dress, creeping steadily up the back of your neck as you're observed. Surely there's something in here that would take his fancy far more efficiently than you do.

Softly clearing your throat, you shift under his scrutiny and try very hard to feign indifference by leaning against the counter and folding your arms loosely across your chest. 

“... So,” the Horseman announces abruptly, studying your pose for a few seconds before he tries to mirror it, leaning his metal backside on the counter opposite yours and crossing his own arms, “How long do we have to-“

.... A lot of unexpected things have been happening to you lately. Most of which are awful and alarming.

So, you think you can be forgiven for jumping and letting out a startled scream when, without warning, the buzzer on your intercom cuts across Strife’s question with a harsh, grating, ‘BZZT!’

And whether in response to your fright, or to the buzzer itself, Strife is suddenly moving.

In a whirlwind of motion that occurs too quickly for you to keep up with it, there’s a Horseman planted quite squarely between you and the intercom, guns flying from their holsters and levelling at the little box on the wall near your front door.

That in itself is far more distressing than any visitors calling at this ungodly hour.

It takes a hard blink for you to come to your senses. And another to register the living wall of metal that's appeared in your way.

If you weren’t awake before, you certainly are now.

“S-Strife!” you sputter, lurching off the counter and grabbing thoughtlessly at one of his arms, “It’s okay! It’s just the intercom!”

Christ, it’s like trying to tug at the anchor of a ship with your bare hands. The Horseman’s arm doesn’t move an inch as you attempt to lower it from behind, and in fact, Strife hardly acknowledges the effort, canting his hip to the side and sliding one of his massive legs backwards until the rear side of his calf finds you, and you’re nudged further back into the kitchenette.

“Stay behind me,” he utters in a deep, sonorous tone, half his attention lingering on the tiny fingers slipping off his elbow.

“Oh, for god’s sake - there’s just someone at the door,” you snap, realising whose appendage you've got a hold of and nearly smacking yourself in the face in a hurry to whip your hands back. The explanation, however, doesn’t seem to settle him in the slightest.

If anything, he only grows more agitated, shoulders bristling to a staggering size as he angles his helm away from the intercom and towards the entrance to your apartment.

“The door downstairs – Ugh, you know what....Forget it. ” Throwing up your hands in exasperation, you duck around his side and scoot your way past the bridling Horseman

You see him balk immediately out of the corner of your eye, flipping his guns up towards the ceiling and away from you, though the gesture is lost on you as another buzz rips brazenly through your apartment.

“What now?” you breathe to yourself, ignoring the sound of Strife holstering his pistols and urgently telling you to, ‘Get back here.’

Stabbing your forefinger onto the ‘talk’ button, you lean against the wall next to your intercom and bark, “Hello?” far more sharply than you intended to.

But really. Of all the nights…

“Finally! God.”

Your finger leaves the button just as swiftly as it had arrived, all so the person on the other end can’t hear your forehead thud miserably against the wall.

Not now… Not him.

You wish you'd just stayed silent. Now he knows you're here. Swallowing hard, you press the 'talk' button again just as an enveloping shadow falls across your back, blotting out the light from your ceiling and casting you in eerie darkness.

“Noel,” you sigh curtly, “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

You don’t like being curt with people but… it’s Noel. And you have a Horseman in your home. Curt is a damn sight better than hysterical.

“Yeah, it’s ‘I don’t give a shit o’clock,” the man on the other end retorts, “Now shut up and pay attention-”

“- The Hell?”

You let out a tiny yelp at the sound of Strife’s voice tickling your ear.

“Is there some jackass living in your wall?” the Horseman asks behind you, his question amusingly genuine. His guns may be holstered, but he still sounds like his feathers are dangerously ruffled when he growls, "And did he just tell you to shut up?" 

Floundering for your words, there’s the briefest pause before Noel filters through again. “Hey.... You got a guy up there with you?”

It's barbed. A question with spikes and snarls. It puts your back up immediately. As if he has any right to ask you something like that, even if the 'guy' is a Horseman of the Apocalypse.

“That's... the TV,” you think on your feet, batting harmlessly at Strife’s visor when it appears over your shoulder and glares daggers at the intercom, “Um. Why are you calling?”

You can hear the sound of a tongue being clicked sceptically. “Tch. Whatever,” Noel mutters.

And then he raises his voice to add three dreaded words you’d have given anything in the world not to hear tonight.

“Got another one.”

The blood swiftly turns to solid ice in your veins, and suddenly, half of your senses pivot straight to the giant hovering at your back.

Noel's joking…. He has to be. It’s piss-poor timing, and not funny in the slightest, but you can forgive all of that, if only he’s-

“- Six years old, his name’s Oscar, both parents bumped ‘emselves off after dumping him in the hostel,” Noel rattles off as casually as you’d read your shopping list, confirming your fear and bringing all the fatigue flooding back into your weary body, “But the hostel told me they’ve got no more beds for him. So, you’re up.”

“… Noel,” you begin, a hardened edge to your voice you hope he’ll pick up on, “This is really, really not a good time.”

And oh god, if that isn't the understatement of the century. 

“Hey, you volunteered.”

You did. You did volunteer. You went to the town hall like so many other people and put your name down for services that would help society get back on its feet. It wasn't a permanent thing. Once or twice a month, at most. You said you were open to the possibility of working with children. God knows they were the ones who needed the most help after the Great Awakening. The hostels and pop-up orphanages were - and still are - packed to their absolute limits with lost, abandoned or runaway children.

Some of the kids were those who were in the city for a school trip or visiting distant relatives when the world ended. They died, and were resurrected where they stood, only with no conceivable way of returning to their families back home.

Those cases were slightly easier. Even without the Earth’s transport services up and running, it’s still possible to reunite families. It just takes a lot longer to get between locations nowadays.

Then, there are the other cases.

Not everyone learned how to live with the horrifying new reality they woke up to.

Parents were no exception. 

Sometimes it’s just one, a person who can’t shut themselves off to the horror of how they died. They’ll take back control the last and only way they know how, leaving the rest of the family behind to pull together and try to survive without them.

Sometimes… it’s both parents.

That’s when you and a handful of other volunteers dotted throughout the city are called forth. When the hostels are full. When the safehouses are packed to the rafters with strays. When there’s nowhere else for a child to stay for the night whilst it’s decided what to do with them.

You volunteered your home to serve as a temporary refuge until a solution could be reached.

It isn’t much. Typically, strays only stay for a few nights before they find something more permanent. You don’t share your apartment with anyone, and you have the extra room, so it isn’t a problem.

Or it wouldn’t be a problem if this were any other night.

“I’m sorry, Noel,” you try to breathe, in through your nose, out through your mouth, “You’ll have to get one of the other volunteers to-“

“-Hell no!”

You just about jump out of your skin at Noel’s indignant shout, and again when the Horseman behind you snakes his arm over your shoulder and pokes sharply at the speaker, uttering a grunt of confusion.

Luckily, Noel continues to rant over it, drowning out the sound of you swatting at the underside of Strife’s wrist and shooing him away from the intercom. “-I’m freezing my ass off trying to find this brat a place to stay, and you’re the only person who’s come to the door.”

‘Because it’s the middle of the night, and most sane people are asleep,’ you almost say.

“-And I ain’t traipsing around the city trying to find someone else to take him when you’re right here. Ain’t my fault you’re up there fucking around with some douchebag while the rest of us are actually trying to do their jobs.”

You violently recoil at that, a soft yet affronted gasp breezing in through your lips.

“… The Hell is a douchebag?” Strife pipes up unhelpfully.

Ignoring him, you stew for a moment, then consider telling Noel exactly why you can’t do what he’s asking. Setting aside personal grievances, you want to tell him that it’s dangerous up here, that there’s a Biblical being hijacking most of the space between your floor and your ceiling right now. Then you want to tell him that if he so wants to do his job, why doesn’t he give the poor kid a room for the night…?

But you know Noel.

Unfortunately.

If it weren’t for the extra rations he gets as a volunteer himself, he wouldn’t be seen anywhere near a child in need of help.

Something in that thought sparks another, and you’re suddenly pressing your finger to the button again and asking in an urgent tone, “Noel, is the kid with you now?

“Yeah, no shit he is. What? You think I’m just out here to be your messenger boy?”

Adequately horrified for a secondary, less-severe reason, you admonish, “Jesus, Noel. Watch your language, yeah? You said he’s only six!”

There’s a very deliberate scoff from the other side of the speaker. Then, “Fuck this. Look, I’m leaving him in the lobby. I’ll tell ‘em you said you could take him, so whatever happens to this kid is on you now.”

Yes, that’s precisely what you’re afraid of.

Wait… What did he just-…?

“- Noel!?” you ask urgently, pressing yourself closer to the speaker, “Noel, are you still there?”

… Nothing.

Only a cold, empty silence stifling the air of your apartment.

“That son of a –“ You swiftly check to make sure your finger is off the button. “- bitch! Oh my god! Is he serious!?”

This can't happen. Not now, not ever. You have to get down there. If you could only stop him and explain-! 

“What was that about?” Strife pipes, cocking his head at the intercom as if he expects it to start talking again at any moment, “Did Wall-Guy say something about a kid?”

You really don’t have time for this.

Making the executive decision to ignore your house guest, you march purposefully towards the front door, only pausing long enough to fumble with the chain lock. “Of all the irresponsible, idiotic, asshole things to do!” you seethe, grabbing the doorhandle and wrenching the whole thing open with as much strength as you can muster, “I’m gonna kill him. I might actually kill him this time!”

You don't even make it past the threshold before a cold chill creeps down your spine and stops you in your tracks.

“Need me to take care of it?” a dark voice growls. 

Sinister, the words crawl like venomous things into your ears. 

Whirling around, you clutch the doorframe and let out a stifled gasp when you find Strife standing just a foot away from you. It's hard to miss the near murderous gleam igniting his stare, and the readied stack of his shoulders, as though he’s committed wholly to fighting a battle on your behalf, all because of a figure of speech.

Horrified by the prospect of accidentally unleashing a Nephilim on the unwitting residents of your building, your frustration at Noel promptly evaporates like water off a frying pan. “No!” you blurt out loudly, almost throwing yourself back into the apartment at Strife with your arms outstretched to form a pitiful barrier between him and the world beyond your home. “No, no, no! It’s fine. I just misspoke!”

You can feel him scrutinising you from underneath that angular visor. There's a steady rumble coming from... somewhere on his person. Deep down in his chest, perhaps. 

On the verge of a total nervous breakdown, you fumble for the door handle again, keeping your splinted appendage raised like you’re trying to ward off an angry dog. “Just! Just you – you stay. Here! Okay? Please?”

And without waiting around to hear his response, you hastily yank the door shut – barely remembering not to slam it at the very last second lest you wake up the whole floor. All you can do is offer a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that Strife doesn't follow you this time.

Bolting down the hallway in your rush, you leave behind a very perplexed Nephilim who stands stock still in your apartment, blinking down at the spot you’d just vanished from and wondering what in the nine circles of Hell has you so spooked.

Emitting a soft hum, Strife rocks back on a heel and allows himself a moment to consider his options. 

Of course, no sooner has he started contemplating whether it'd be worth the risk of incurring your ire than a metallic 'cha-chunk!' suddenly rips across the silence of the apartment. 

It'll be a cold day in Hell if Strife ever admits that he'd been so startled by the explosion of sound, he'd jumped violently enough that his head nearly cracked the ceiling, and he'd whipped towards your kitchenette and pulled Redemption's trigger in a motion too quick to follow with the naked eye. 

Your poor, faithful toaster never stood a chance...

[newwavedetectives]

That’s an excellent point and I wouldn’t have thought of it that way! A freeform system would be much better for players who don’t want to think as much about / deal with mechanics in a ttrpg and want more to explore roleplaying possibilities and concepts.

For a while, it was fashionable for systems to be as crunchy as possible and, at the time, 3e definitely felt less crunchy than, say, Alternity or Ninjas & Superspies or Champions, systems which could take nearly several hours just to generate your characters. 

However, 5e felt like too much of a swing in the other direction, that by streamlining the mechanics to make it more accessible, it flattened the game.

If you want to make a princess or a pirate or a diplomat or a disgraced noble, it can be difficult to make your character sheet actually reflect that character mechanically without DM intervention or by using other sourcebooks.

Sure, you could write down on your sheet that you were a princess in exile with extensive training in courtly manners and the fine art of persuasion, but in terms of actual feedback from the game, have fun with your measly +3.

A pirate born on the sea, who sailed her whole life, will have, mechanically, the same bonus to sailing checks as a landlubber mercenary with the same proficiency skill. It’s fine, and 5e is fun and stuff, but it doesn’t feel right.

And other, more flexible or freeform systems would definitely provide an alternative to that.

D&D's bad this and D&D's bad that. I just think it's time to admit that 5e sucks. 3rd edition was the best. Remains the best. You can make a character with +30 to basket weaving. You can make a character who's terrible at fighting but can talk her way out of anything. +8 to bluff at first level if you play your cards right. Can easily get to +20 in a few levels. She can sell salt to slug. Sure, she can't hit a broad side of a barn with a sharp stick but why bother when you can convince the evil henchmen you're the evil emperor's consort with the roll of a dice. You rolled a 10, that's 30 to diplomacy, sorry, looks like you're the DM now.

Can't do shit in 5e. Just try to make a talky character. Ooh great +3 to persuasion at level 10. Awesome. Oh I get advantage? Two opportunities to roll like shit. Great. Love this system where I don't get to pick skills and my paladin can't even detect evil

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

���Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[faelapis]

okay look, calming down - i understand why some people would want zelda to be a protagonist in like a totk-style 3d zelda. that would be great! the reason i predicted 2d for playable zelda is because its a smaller gamble for nintendo - imo, its realistically what we could get. especially at the end of the switch' life cycle AND so soon after totk.

BUT i'm very happy, for a few reasons:

1. it IS mainline zelda. its not called "triforce heroes" or "tingle's rosy rupeeland", its not a peach-style spinoff or side game. its a real zelda game. its called THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: ECHOES OF WISDOM. that alone, giving the mainline zelda brand prestige to this, IS a risk. and its one i super appreciate nintendo taking!!!

2. i disagree that just because it has the links awakening toy-style aesthetic, that automatically makes it a "lesser" or unserious game. links awakening IS a good game! its some peoples favorite! it added interesting lore to the zelda series, its a canon part of the timeline, its mechanically fun, and it has the fun psychological element of analyzing it in terms of links feelings about the dream. like how even the boss monsters are fearful of "dying", begging link not to destroy the island. which of course isn't "real" since its a dream, but its interesting that link would THINK that. also, marin 💔

3. like i said in the prediction post, this could be understood as a testfire for the concept. IF its as successful as any other 2d zelda game (and thats a big if! i already see people calling it more niche or for babies. i hope that doesnt catch on too much and depress hype 😞), maybe nintendo WILL see it as less of a gamble to make zelda the protagonist in a full-on, "serious" 3d title. nintendo is, after all, a business. trying it out with a smaller game makes total sense.

also... it looks like a good game? when a link between worlds was released, everyone thought the wall merging ability was brilliant and a great way to turn 2d zelda into a more unique experience.

this, to me, looks to have similar potential!! the fact that zelda can essentially order enemies to fight for her and use her environment to think of intelligent solutions to any problem is very in-character! it's fitting both for a princess and for the bearer of the triforce of wisdom.

also, its not just building/environment traversal! she does fight!

idk y'all, this looks like a great time to me! i don't know why people would presume its any "lesser" than any other 2d zelda... when we've literally seen another 2d zelda with this exact artstyle. and its an original game!! its not a remake!! :D

[bramblebeau]

Alright I told myself I wouldn't interact with fandom when s2 came out, and I haven't and don't plan to except to say this about people deciding Caitlyn is the Worst or that the writing is OOC.

As someone who has had a family member violently killed, I cannot stress how much it shakes up everything you thought you were and stood for. My beliefs in proportionate compassionate justice and the rights of all human beings are some of the strongest I have (stronger now because of the way that experience affected me personally), but they were pushed to the absolute limit when it came to an individual who had killed my loved one, showed no remorse, and laughed in our faces outside court, among other things.

People generally like to believe it wouldn't be them or their peace-loving family members being talked down from seriously considering violent revenge, consequences be damned. People like to believe they wouldn't lash out at people closest to them under that pressure, that they wouldn't build walls around the kindest and most sensitive parts of themselves because those parts are the ones feeling pain you never thought possible, that they wouldn't stalk the killer, make notes on all their family and friends, and fuck up their hands punching walls in anger wishing so badly it was flesh and bone because they can't handle the fact that there's no way to turn back time to stop it all from happening. People like to think they're "better" than that. But the reality is messy and painful as hell.

With Caitlyn, she has the added guilt of having actually had the opportunity to stop Jinx before she fired the rocket, but she hesitated just long enough for it to result in the deaths of her mother and other councillors and in the cities being plunged into chaos. Not only that, but the person close to her she's lashing out at is the person who caused her to hesitate, and just so happens to be the sister of the killer.

Furthermore, her behaviour is entirely in character. We have seen her set up as someone who becomes obsessed with achieving a goal and will do pretty much anything she wants to get there. In S1, we agreed with her methods because her goal was exposing and taking down Silco, and because it led to Vi being released. In S2, she's doing a similar thing but it's fuelled by fear and a type of pain she doesn't know how to deal with, rather than being fuelled by a need to prove herself and solve a case, and it leads to her making morally questionable decisions and to hurting Vi. She admits herself, albeit privately to Vi, that she does not know what she's doing and doesn't know how to fill this hole in her chest (and the hole in the city leadership). She has been sheltered from the real world for almost all her life, and as a result she has no experience of functioning or making decisions under this kind of pressure. The real world blew up in her face in the worst way and she was given power and a loaded rifle, and then shoved into an even more elevated position by a very experienced warlord who is manipulating the shit out of the whole situation.

I'm not saying that you have free rein to hurt people when you're grieving and facing extreme stress. (If you think that's what I'm saying then idk I'm not sure there's much hope for you in terms of critical thinking skills). What I'm saying is that Caitlyn is exhibiting pretty normal human behaviour that most people would be susceptible to in those circumstances, not the behaviour of someone who is some kind of heartless abusive bastard.

TLDR: Caitlyn is being written in a way that completely makes sense and is also not OOC, and if someone told me there would be no chance of them reacting in similar ways I simply would not believe them.

[novlr]

How would i politely describe body types without being vague?

Characters are as diverse as the writers who write about them, but when it comes to describing them, it can be very easy to default to what we know or to succumb to clichés or stereotypes. This can be especially challenging when describing characters’ bodies. When you need to describe body types, it’s really important to strike a balance between being specific and respectful while avoiding harmful stereotypes or vague descriptions.

Why description matters

Description is essential to really bring a reader into a scene and connect with the characters you’re writing about. Physical descriptions help readers visualise characters, which, in turn, can influence story dynamics. Body descriptions can reveal a lot about a character and even affect the way that other characters interact with them. Like people in real life, the way we look influences both who we are and how we interact with the world. 

As a personal example, I am quite short, but I have very long limbs. This gives me the illusion of being tall. Consequently, I am often asked by people taller than me to help them get things down from high shelves because they perceive me as taller than I am. This is a common interaction in my life that has changed the way I dress and carry myself. You probably have similar anecdotes in your own life, which is why building those descriptions into your characters can be such a great way to really make them feel real. How a character looks is not all they are, but it does help create a well-rounded sense of character if we get a feel for how they interact with the world around them.

General guidelines to describe body types

Thoughtful representation matters in modern writing. Descriptions should exist to make your characters feel like people and not like stereotypes. To achieve this, you must:

Focus on relevant details that serve the story — don’t just describe a person’s body because you feel you need to. Everything, even character description should exist to serve the story.

Avoid loaded terms or judgmental language.

Use specific, relevant details rather than general statements for the sake of it. 

Consider the character’s own perspective of their body instead of only through the eyes of other characters.

Include dynamic descriptions that show how the character moves and interacts with their environment to give a sense of who they are instead of info-dumping a description.

Common pitfalls to avoid

Don’t make a character’s body type a central part of your narrative if it isn’t plot-relevant.

Don’t rely on stereotypes or clichés.

Avoid using food-related metaphors, as they’re often problematic.

Don’t make assumptions about health or lifestyle based on appearance. Only include this information if it is relvant to the story you’re telling and you’ve researched and fact-checked to ensure its accuracy.

Don’t over-focus on your character’s body as a defining character trait.

Don’t use derogatory or outdated terminology.

Don’t over-describe body type to avoid saying what you mean. Fat and skinny aren’t dirty words. Short and tall don’t have an implicit bias. You can be direct. In fact, it’s often better to be direct in your description than to labour over someone’s body in minute detail.

Effective techniques to incorporate body types in the narrative

Describe clothing and style choices.

Show how the character navigates their environment and how their personality shines through movement.

Consider cultural and historical context.

Include relevant occupational influences on physique or vice versa.

Reference genetic or familial physical traits when relevant.

Include distinctive characteristics or style choices that aren’t related to their body type.

Note how the character’s appearance changes in different situations (i.e., dressed up or casual, at home or at work).

Focus on functional strength and capability outside of their body type.

Consider historical context if writing historical fiction and be aware of changing beauty standards.

Avoid cultural stereotypes and generalisations.

Don’t make a character’s body the centre of their story if it’s not relevant to the plot.

Use precise, specific language – don’t beat around the bush. Say what you mean.

Choose words that match the tone of your story.

Describing body types doesn’t have to be a minefield. Writing a character respectfully doesn’t require any more technical knowledge than simply writing them like a real person. While description is important for reader immersion, it’s also not something you need to focus on in too much detail if it’s not relevant to the plot. 

Describe body types in a way that serves your story. Every character’s physical description should contribute to their overall characterisation and your story’s themes, and never distract from it. Physical description is just one aspect of character development, so the most respectful way to describe a character’s body type is to make it a natural part of who they are and not the focus. 

[mimble-sparklepudding]

OC Questions on the Seven Forms of Love.

A little list of OC questions based on the seven types of love identified in Ancient Greek thought. Obviously this is a highly simplified presentation of some quite complex philosophical concepts from Classical History, intended more for the purposes of entertainment than education. I also left out Mania, which is arguably an eighth type of love (Obsessive), because I'm keeping it mostly positive in these tricky times!

Eros – Romantic, Passionate Love.

Is your OC romantic in the traditional sense? Do they enjoy giving or receiving gifts of flowers or confectionary? Or are there other courtship traditions from their culture of origin that are important to them?

How important is sex to them in a relationship? Do they see it as something essential to their happiness? Would they be able to remain in a monogamous relationship with someone they loved without sex?

How do they feel about public displays of romantic affection? Does it make them uncomfortable? How do they feel if a romantic partner kisses them in public?

Do they believe in love at first sight? Have they ever developed a crush or romantic (or erotic) fixation upon a stranger based on their appearance alone?

How closely is their opinion of their own beauty (or lack thereof) linked to their confidence? Do they see themselves as more or less worthy of love or sex based on how attractive they feel?

Philia – Affectionate, Platonic Love.

Does your OC have a Best Friend? If they do then how long have they known each other and how did they meet? If they don't then do they have a close group of friends they love equally? Or are they more of a loner?

Does your OC find it easy to make friends? Or are there barriers to them doing so? If so then are these due to issues of inclination, communication, or something else entirely?

What qualities does your OC most value in a friend? Loyalty? Shared sense of humour? Or something else?

Is your OC able to build close friendships with people very different from themselves? Perhaps in terms of culture, age or personality?

What is their most fervent wish for their best friend(s)? How far would they go to make it happen?

Storge – Unconditional, Familial Love.

Did your OC's parents love them unconditionally? If so then has this helped them feel confident as an adult? If not then how has this affected them? What were the conditions their family attached to their relationship?

Does your OC have children? If so then how fiercely do they love them? If they have more than one then do they love them all equally? If they do not have children then is this part of their future plans?

How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

Does your OC have any siblings? If so then did their parents have a favourite growing up? Has their relationship with their sibling changed in adulthood? If they don't have any siblings then do they perhaps feel they have missed out on an important relationship? Do they have any especially close friends who go some way towards filling that role?

Is your OC able to love without necessarily needing or expecting reciprocation or reward? Or are all their relationships to some extent transactional? Have they ever loved another person unconditionally, whether a child or another adult?

Agape – Selfless, Universal Love.

Does your OC wish to make the world a better place? How far do they see that as being their responsibility? What lengths would they go to in order to help achieve this?

Does your OC feel a spiritual connection to the world around them? Do they have a particular love for nature or living things?

To what extent does your OC believe in the value (or even existence) of true altruism? Do they see an unselfish concern for the welfare of others as being naïve or foolish? Or as a moral quality to which people should aspire?

Does your OC have a religious faith which emphasises the importance of a love for all people? If so then do they try to follow these teachings authentically? Or do they just pay lip-service to them? If not then do they follow a more martial or mercantile faith? Or none at all?

Does your OC find it easy to empathise with their enemies? Or do they see it as important to dehumanise them in order to combat them with sufficient determination?

Ludus – Playful, Flirtatious Love.

Does your OC have any particular favourite chat up lines? If not for themselves then perhaps ones they have suggested to a friend? How effective do these tend to be?

Is your OC particularly skilled at flirting? Have they had to practice this or does it just happen naturally?

How does your OC feel about one night stands? Have they ever enjoyed a night of passionate romance with a stranger? Is this something they are quite keen on recreationally? Or only something they might engage in under specific circumstances (such as the eve of a battle or after a difficult breakup)?

Who was your OC's first crush? How do they feel about it now?

What seduction techniques are most likely to be effective when it comes to your OC? Are there some things guaranteed to get them going? Or are they immune to such things?

Pragma – Committed, Long-Lasting Love.

Is your OC in a committed long-term relationship (or relationships)? If so then what has contributed to this relationship lasting so well? If they are not in such a relationship, then is this something that saddens them or which they regret?

What is the biggest challenge that your OC has had to overcome in a long-term relationship or friendship? What helped them get through this?

Are your OC's parents still together? To what degree do they look to their own parents as a model for their own ideal relationship?

After the initial fires of passion cool to some degree, what would keep your OC engaged in a relationship? Shared goals? Similar values? Or contented companionship?

What importance or value does your OC attach to marriage? Do they believe that it is important to make a public statement of commitment to another person (or persons)? Or are they more concerned about inheritance rights and security for their family? Or do they not see marriage as a necessary signifier of commitment and loyalty?

Philautia – Self Love.

Does your OC have a healthy sense of their own worth and value? Or do they see themselves as failing to live up to their original potential? Perhaps they are convinced of their own sinful or inadequate nature?

Does your OC believe that it is important to love themselves in the first instance? Perhaps in order to be able to give and receive love authentically? Or because they believe first and foremost in "looking after number one"?

Does your OC judge themselves by the same standards as they apply to others? Or are they sometimes hypocritical in condemning others for faults they also possess? Or perhaps they find it easier to forgive others for things that they cannot abide in themselves?

Which of your OC's qualities makes them the most proud? Do they think more people should be like them in this regard? Or do they quite like being rare in possessing it?

Has your OC always had the same opinion of themselves or has this changed over time? Have they learned to love themselves - perhaps with the help of others - as their journey progressed? Or have the consequences of their actions only served to erode their sense of self-worth?

[riizegasm]

Serpent || H. DM (Taesan)

❀ pairing: mafia boss!taesan x rival mafia boss!reader, implied fem!reader

❀ genre: enemies to allies to lovers, suggestive, fluff

❀ word count: ~6.2k

❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of guns, blood, and everything else related to organized crime, suggestive themes, taesan is slightly ooc

❀ summary: Your alliance with the Giant Mountain crashes into your life like a brick through a glass window. As you work together to defeat a common enemy, you realize the old saying is right. The enemy of your enemy is your lover…or whatever…

❀ a/n: Okay so I’m a deep introspection writer, not an action writer, BUT!! I absolutely adore this fic! It’s so different from my usual portrayal of loser!taesan, but it works so well. I really hope you all enjoy this as much as I do. As always, likes, replies, and reblogs are encouraged. Happy reading!

Your heels click rhythmically against the spotless marble hallway, their sound interrupting the tense silence in the building. A pair of grandiose mahogany doors are opened for you, two men stepping aside to let you in. The office that it leads to is lavish, all of the furniture black with little chrome accents. Even the large desk in the center is an inky shade, clearly recently polished. 

A pair of equally spotless black shoes are propped up on its surface, mile long legs stretched out as their owner reclines in his chair. The smirk that the man wears is sickening, all too familiar. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” the man purrs. “What brings The Beauty of the North into my office?”

“Taesan,” you sigh, pointedly ignoring the nickname. “I need your help.”

You don’t know if it’s the desperation that colors your tone or the obvious frustration painted across your delicate features, but the smirk drops from Taesan’s face. His expression shifts into something more serious, something that could even be mistaken for concern, if you didn’t know the man so well. But this is Han Taesan, for Christ’s sake, the Giant Mountain, known for his harsh and stoic nature. There’s no way he is capable of feeling anything, let alone feeling anything for you. 

In an unlawful world full of enemies and allies, it would be fair to say that Taesan is neither. Your territories are separated from each others’ by the Dragons, an established mafia group known for their arms dealings. Although neither you nor Taesan specialize in arms deals, it makes sense that the groups closest in proximity to you would be your biggest threat. After all, territory disputes are common in your world. 

And well, the enemy of your enemy is your kinda not really friend, or however the saying goes. 

Within a few moments, you are making yourself comfortable in a seat across from Taesan, a steaming mug of tea warming your hands. The man’s expression of concern has completely dropped now, exchanged for the blank stare that he’s known for. Despite the look, you can tell he is still prepared to hear you out, having ordered his men to leave you two in privacy. 

“What’s going on?” Taesan asks after a moment of silence. “It must be pretty bad if you’re coming to me for help.”

“Intel says that the Dragons are preparing a territory breach. Apparently they’ve already started preparing to move their sales into my territory.”

Taesan scoffs. “And what does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes, unsurprised by Taesan’s standoff-ish attitude. “Because you’re next. My source says that they’ve already planted a mole so that they can take you down from the inside once I’m gone. They’re banking on the fact that both of us deal with their attacks alone. But if we deal with them together…”

“We can save both of our asses in one go.”

Despite the way Taesan nods in clear understanding, a scowl begins to cloud his features. Just as fast as it appears, though, it vanishes, replaced with the signature blank stare. 

“How do I know this isn’t a set up?” He questions. “The Dragons and I have been on decent terms for over a year. Why should I believe that they are making their move now?”

You sigh, reaching into your purse to fetch the item that brought you here. You force yourself to ignore the reflexive way Taesan’s hand twitches at the sudden movement, no doubt ready to grab one of the weapons he undoubtedly has stored in his desk. What you’re looking for is hard to miss, and you drop it on the unblemished desk with a loud thud. 

The red brick isn’t particularly large, just sturdy enough to do some minor damage. A piece of white paper remains taped to its rough surface. Across it, bolded words are scribbled. 

THOSE WHO DO NOT FALL IN LINE WILL PERISH!

The only indicator of the sender of the message is a small stamp of a dragon’s face at the bottom of the paper. 

“This shattered the window of one of my shops at around 4am today.”

Taesan hums softly, picking the brick up to inspect it. He lets his eyes linger on its inked surface before nodding to himself. When done, he tosses it back onto the table, not once flinching at the sound it makes. 

“So, will you help me?” You hope your words don’t sound as desperate as you feel. 

Taesan blinks at you once, twice, before sighing. “Fuck it, I’m in. Where do we start?”

You can’t help the small smile that blooms on your face, pleasantly surprised by Taesan’s willingness. 

“First, we find the mole.”

.          .         .

Han Taesan’s main office, or the Mountain Top as it’s better known, is just as flashy as Taesan himself is. Sleek black furniture and equally ebony walls are decorated with hints of chrome, their reflections shining in the perfectly polished marble floors. It’s tasteful, almost. Well, it’s as tasteful as any space run by a man in his twenties could be. But you imagine that it’s much easier when your empire is passed down to you by a filthy rich grandfather and not fought for tooth and nail like the one you yourself have built. 

There’s a difference in respect, you’d assume, between a leader who fought for their empire and a leader who was given it. But Taesan’s men don’t seem to show any lack in their appreciation for him. They bow a full ninety degrees as the man treks through the hallways, mile long legs moving gracefully in perfectly tailored dress pants. He commands a degree of authority without ever having to open his mouth. That silent reverence is probably what is saving you from a slew of unsavory comments from his underlings. 

Men in the business are never shy about treating pretty people like they are nothing more than just that. You’re used to people outside of your organization seeing you as nothing but a literal and metaphorical breeding ground for promiscuity. It took years of decapitating people for them to realize that your power extends to much more beyond your looks. 

The thought makes you sway your hips a little bit more than usual as you follow Taesan down an immaculate hallway. He leads you to a small set of doors, not bothering to knock before he simply barges in. The room hosts a slew of monitors and keyboards, all seemingly monitored by one person who sits at a central desk. 

The kid is clearly young, boyish features and a dark brown bed head giving him away. A pair of headphones fit snug over his ears, making it so that the boy hasn’t acknowledged either of his guests. Taesan just chuckles fondly before reaching over and snatching them off. His laughter only grows as the boy scrambles to his feet, falling over himself to bow deeply. 

“Sir, please excuse the disrespect,” he blubbers. “I was just watching back the tapes of yesterday’s deal and I got too into the details and—,”

Taesan claps a hand over the boy’s shoulder, smiling softly. You try not to stare at the handsome way his features contort in obvious fondness. It’s amazing to see Han Taesan be anything other than his stoic self. You would be lying if you said that he didn’t look undeniably attractive. 

“It’s okay, Woonhak. Seriously, straighten up.”

The boy does as told, embarrassment still coloring his cheeks. You struggle not to coo at the plush redness of his cheeks, further emphasizing his youth. 

“I came because I need your help with something. We need help with something. This is Y/N…,”

“The Beauty of the North,” Woonhak breathes, clearly in awe. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

This time, you don’t bother to hide your smile. “You as well, Woonhak.”

“What can I help you with?”

Taesan clears his throat, back to his stoic nature. “I need you to pull all phone records and text conversations for all of our men and scan them for any mention of the Dragons.”

“All of them?” Woonhak scoffs in disbelief. “But that’s over fifty men.”

“I know. But it’s really important, and time sensitive, too.”

You nod in agreement. “We’d like to have them by tonight, if we can.”

Taesan folds his arms over his chest, making his suit jacket shift across the broadness of his shoulders. You struggle to look away from the tightening fabric, hating the warmth that rises to your cheeks at the sight. Now is not the time. 

Woonhak seems to mull over the timeframe before responding. “I mean it would take all day and I would have to get to work right now, but I think I can do it!”

“Perfect,” Taesan sighs. “I’ll get Sungho to cover the rest of your workload for today. And Woonhak?”

The boy in question cocks his head, not unlike an intrigued puppy. 

“This stays between us, okay?”

The boy nods eagerly, miming zipping his lips closed before smiling. You can’t help the tiny laugh that bubbles in your throat at the over exaggerated action. Taesan seems amused too, if his hint of a smile is anything to go by. It’s only when the two of you exit the room once again that his smile drops. 

“Are you sure we can trust him?” You ask, nerves beginning to tickle at the base of your stomach. 

Taesan sighs. “Honestly, he’s the only one that I can say for sure that I trust. If he were the mole, my whole organization would be going down in flames.”

“Let’s hope that it’s not him, then.”

“Yeah,” Taesan mumbles, shaking his head. “Let’s.”

The tense aura that had once overcome the space begins to dissipate as Taesan straightens up, casually fixing his tie before beginning to head back down the long hallway from which you came. He clearly makes no move to check if you’re following behind, but something tells you that he’s listening to the measured clack of your heels against the marble floors. The tilt of his head is subtle, but it’s a dead giveaway that he’s listening; Han Taesan actually gives a shit about whether or not you’re following him. 

You only make it a few paces before Taesan stops short. He freezes so abruptly that you run straight into him, yet the force doesn’t sway him one bit. He’s silent for a moment, two, until a short yell echoes in the otherwise silent hallway. Silence quickly returns, then fades once again when it is pierced by a sound you know all too well—a gunshot. 

Taesan is quick to spring into action when a bullet whizzes past the both of you, luckily missing and lodging itself into an adjacent wall. He turns quickly, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you tight against him. He ushers the two of you behind a large pillar that divides the massive hallway in two. You remain tucked against the man’s chest, his crisp suit jacket wrinkled where you’re holding on for dear life. 

It’s not like any of this is new to you. In your business, shootouts and confrontations are just about an everyday affair. But it’s different when it’s on enemy turf. It’s different when you are miles away from your own headquarters and your own men. For all you know, Taesan could use you as a human shield while he escapes! But something about the way his large hand spans your waist, keeping you tucked to his chest, proves otherwise. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers, breath warm as it fans your face in the close proximity. 

“Yeah, you?”

The man just hums in response, the simple vibration making a home in your own chest where it’s pressed to his. It brings you an odd sense of calm despite the calamity around you, another set of shots going off. They whiz past the pillar the two of you are tucked behind. 

Taesan reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a pistol, clicking the safety off and cocking it immediately. His other hand still remains firmly on your waist, not once faltering where he keeps you tucked close. He’s quick to lean over you, arm outstretched, only taking a quick peek around the pillar before firing off three shots. You can feel the recoil in your veins, the simple pop pop pop nestling deep into your flesh. No matter how long you’ve been in this world, the sound of guns firing at close range will never not startle you. 

There’s a loud thud that fills the office space, followed by a prolonged period of silence. Taesan’s breath is shaky but controlled, clearly preparing to fire off more shots if needed. But as some more time passes, it’s clear that the shooter is down. Taesan, however, doesn’t move, still peering down his nose at you. You hate the way that his gaze ignites something deep in your core. Silently, you pray that he can’t feel the heavy thump of your heart against your ribs, or that he at least just passes it off as adrenaline. 

“I think I got him,” Taesan whispers. “Stay here, I’ll go ch—,”

“MR. HAN?? Sir, where are you?!” A voice exclaims from down the hallway. 

Taesan visibly exhales at the sound of the voice, finally taking a step away from you and ducks around the pillar. You loathe the way his absence leaves you cold. 

“What the fuck was that?” Taesan exclaims. “Sanghyuk, please tell me that wasn’t one of our own.”

You take that as your cue that it’s safe to come out, steps shaky as you leave your hiding spot. The war zone that you step into almost makes you collapse. There’s a series of bullet holes lodged into various walls and some desks. A few bodies lay unmoving further down the hallway, all dressed in black suits similar to Taesan’s. But the man in charge is stationed on the other end of the hallway, bent over a limp body with a few of his other men. A sea of crimson slowly expands below their feet, matching the color splattered along the wall. If you looked close enough, you’re sure you would be able to see some brain matter stuck to the sleek white walls. 

Taesan is merciless as he lifts the body’s head by pulling on a fistful of hair. He takes one look at the face and scoffs before letting the face fall back to the floor. It makes a wet smack when it hits the floor, sending another splatter of blood up to Taesan’s ankles. The man doesn’t even flinch, brows pinching in anger as he rights himself. He crosses his arms against his chest, letting out a bitter chuckle. 

“Fucking Minjoong!” He exclaims. “I should’ve known to not let in that slimy fuck.”

You swallow thickly. “Who was he?”

The man next to Taesan responds, running a hand through his dyed red hair. “A fairly new recruit. He cornered us coming back from a deal and begged to be let in. But it’s clear now that he was a mole.”

The final word has you looking to Taesan, searching his features for any sign of relief. But it doesn’t come. Instead he just motions at the bodies strewn across the office, sighing loudly. 

“Clean this up,” he orders. “I’m taking Y/N home. Everyone is dismissed for the day.”

The man next to him splutters. “But sir, it’s only—,”

“I don’t give a shit. We’re done here.”

.         .         .

A few days pass before you hear from Taesan again. It’s filled with much of the same mundane work that you always do. Your underlings make runs for you, support your fronts, and send you reports, just to wake up and do it all again the next day. The monotony gives you a dangerous amount of time to think. And every time you’re supposed to be thinking about the Dragons and their next move, your mind wanders to broad shoulders in black suits and large hands steadying your waist. 

You’re caught up in your familiar daydream when the text from Taesan comes in. You try your best to ignore the flutter in your core as his name pops up on your phone screen. 

Minjoong isn’t the only one. I’ll meet you at your HQ in 15.

It’s exactly fourteen minutes later when one of your men is knocking on the door of your office. He has Taesan in tow as he steps into the large space, greeting you with a small bow. 

“The Giant Mountain is here to see you.”

You smile, trying your best not to let your gaze flicker over Taesan’s figure where he stands. “Thanks, Donghyun. I’ll call you if I need you.”

The man sends another small bow before he leaves, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It leaves you and Taesan in an uncomfortable silence, tension inexplicably high. For a moment, you swear Taesan eyes the curve of your chest before meeting your gaze. But you’re sure it must just be a figment of your imagination. 

“So,” you begin, folding your manicured hands underneath your chin. “What did you find out?”

Taesan smirks before sitting down across the desk. He’s surprisingly relaxed for being on supposed enemy turf, legs stretched out as he sinks into his seat. 

“There’s four.”

You cock your head, confused by the simple statement. “Four of what?”

“Four filthy fuckin’ moles in my org. All of them were stupid enough to text evidence back and forth to each other.”

“So you know their plan?”

Taesan sighs. “Not quite. Only bits and pieces were explained in the texts, but it’s enough to prove that Minjoong’s little attack from the other day was intended to cause chaos.”

“Not to kill you?”

The cocky smile you’ve gotten used to Taesan wearing crosses his countenance. “Not yet.”

There’s something in the gleam in Taesan’s eye that fills you with both terror and excitement. In a world like your own, organization leaders have to be predators, ready to pounce on anything that crosses their path. Even though you aren’t his intended target, it’s impossible not to feel like prey as his dark gaze bores into yours. Even as his expression drops into his calculated stoicism, you can feel your heart pounding against the cage of your ribs, just waiting to be exposed and devoured. 

“I’ll have some of my men do some…gathering of information out of the three remaining moles and see if we can get anything about the Dragons’ plan for you,” Taesan says with a slow nod. 

“Thank you,” the words lift a weight off your chest as they are spoken aloud. “Seriously.”

Taesan just shrugs. “We’re allies now. It’s the least I can do.”

The “least he can do” turns out to be exactly what you expected. The picture comes to your phone late at night, and you gasp when you see the carnage it contains. Blood is splattered across a large black tarp, speckled in some spots while it creates crimson lagoons in others. If you look closely, you can spot some teeth strewn across the carpet, shining like stars in the night sky. In the foreground, there’s a table laid out with various instruments, pliers, bone saws, and hammers, along with two detached fingers, dripping a sea of red onto the table. The text it accompanies is simple:

Got what we needed. My HQ, tomorrow at 10.

Despite the nausea that lingers in your stomach from the picture, you find yourself in Taesan’s office at approximately 10:01 am the next morning. The man has forgone his suit jacket this time, his crisp white shirt rolled up to expose the tattooed skin of his forearms. There’s something about him that seems a little disheveled, erratic, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It isn’t until you see three crushed energy drink cans by the trash can that the pieces come together. 

“Great, you’re here!” Taesan greets. “So those fuckers put up a fight, but eventually we got somewhere. It turns out that the four of them joined my org to—,”

“Taesan,” you interrupt, trying not to coo at the confused look you are given in response. “When’s the last time you slept?”

Taesan sputters for a moment, ruffling his already disheveled hair. “Like two days ago. But that’s not important! We have so much to do. We’re finally getting somewhere.”

“Taesan, you need to sleep. Do you have a place you can sleep here?”

“The penthouse,” Taesan responds, voice small like a scolded child. 

“Then let’s go. You need to get some rest.”

It takes a bit more back and forth and jerky movements of the body to convince Taesan to take a well deserved break. The elevator ride up to the penthouse is short enough that Taesan doesn’t have the chance to change his mind. When you step into the apartment, you notice how different the space is from any of Taesan’s offices, yet threads of the man’s style are still there. 

Floor to ceiling windows allow for plenty of light to fill the space, despite the overcast skies. Most of his furniture is in various shades of gray and black, matching the sky. The floors are sleek as you step in, clearly recently mopped and polished to the point where your reflection stares back at you when you glance down. The pristine floors are just one of the many things about this apartment that shows that it is untouched, uninhabited, and that Taesan really hasn’t slept. 

“I’m going to go,” you say softly, watching as Taesan loosens his tie with a sigh. “Get some sleep.”

Before you can cross back through the threshold, a chilled hand grips your wrist, pulling you back softly. Taesan’s eyes are bright when they meet yours, his gaze pleading. 

“Do you mind staying? Just for a bit. I want to tell you what I found out before you go.”

The slight waver of his eyebrows makes you wonder when you went from the stoicism of the Giant Mountain to the open expressions of Han Taesan. The man known for his ruthlessness and icy exterior has seemingly melted into a pool of warmth. He isn’t demanding anything from you, like the way he does with his underlings. Instead he is asking, feline eyes widening so that he looks as if he’s begging. 

“Fine,” you sigh, your resolve crumbling as warmth pools in your core. “Just for a bit though.”

You should have known that Taesan’s information would take longer than “just a bit.” He’s overly animated as he goes through what he found out from each of the moles, not sparing any of the gory details as he spells out their torture. In the end, all of Taesan’s ramblings lead to one central point. The Dragons are after what everyone else in the world is after—money. 

“His attacks on your side are much simpler. He wants to do business with th—,” Taesan cuts himself off with a yawn, nose scrunching not unlike a disgruntled cat. 

“I really think you should get some sleep, Taesan.”

As you move to gather your belongings, a soft voice calls out to you, thick with the beginnings of sleep. “Is that your secret?”

“My secret to what?”

“You know,” Taesan yawns again. “Your nickname. You looking like that. You get plenty of beauty rest, don’t you, sweetheart?”

A snort escapes you before you can catch it, caught off guard by Taesan’s candid questions. “Yes, Taesan. I get plenty of beauty rest. You should too.”

You watch as the man shoots you a small smile before his eyes drift shut, fully succumbing to sleep. The sight of Taesan curled up on the couch, chest rising and falling evenly, has the tendrils of anger slowly traversing your veins. It’s not anger at the mellow expression of the sleeping man before you, but rather at the reason you are in this situation in the first place. 

The Dragons are seeking to destroy lives just for their own selfish gain. All they want is more territory, more arms sales, more men, more, more, more. Their greed knows no end. The thought of all they have destroyed and what they could destroy has you steaming, anger boiling in your gut threatening to boil over. 

The Dragons have plans to take Taesan’s life, and you simply can’t let that happen. 

It’s there, watching Taesan’s unconscious form that you realize that you have to be ruthless in your fight against the Dragons. You have to be swift and venomous, striking like a serpent. With the unwavering stability of Taesan’s men behind you, there’s no doubt that you can be successful. You just have to be willing to die for it. 

.        .        .

Sub Zero is always packed on a Saturday night. It’s one of Taesan’s well known clubs, a perfect front for pushing the more illicit activities that his empire is known for. It’s the only place in the city where someone could buy drugs and do them right then and there, making it a popular destination. With its flashing lights and swanky cocktails, anyone could mistake it as a normal club. But the way the bass rumbles in your chest reminds you that this is anything but. 

Only two of your men flank your sides as you squeeze your way through club goers and partiers. It’s clear that some of them are out of it, too deep into their high to notice the world around them. They move as an amorphous crowd, a blob of bodies that bob and weave to the beat. It makes it harder to reach your destination, but finally you arrive at a roped off section in the back right corner of the club. 

A burly man dressed in a sleek black suit guards the section, eyes concealed as he gazes out at the crowd. Even though you can’t see his eyes, you can tell he’s looking right at you. All it takes is a slight cock of your head before the man is stepping aside, unlatching the black velvet rope to allow you in. You just shoot the man a smile as you climb the few steps to the elevated section, eyes immediately locked on the man who invited you in. 

Taesan looks delectable tonight. He’s not in his normal suit, the way most of his men are. Instead, he dons a leather jacket over what appears to be a black tank top. His black jeans are loose where they fit across his spread legs, the man leaning back lazily. He takes a slow sip of his drink, some type of dark liquor, only greeting you with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

“You came,” he smirks as you get closer. “Didn’t think this would be the crowd for the Beauty of the North.”

You roll your eyes as you sit next to him, your little black dress straining across the width of your hips. The outfit is clearly to Taesan’s satisfaction, if the way his eyes sweep over your figure is anything to go by. His eyes linger on the fullness of your chest, the dip in your waist, and the curve of your hips. 

“See something you like?” You tease. 

“Oh,” Taesan smirks. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”

A molten feeling blooms in your gut at Taesan’s words, forcing you to struggle to hide heated cheeks. But the man doesn’t break eye contact. For as stoic as he is when he’s sober, he’s a pretty loose drunk. His confidence is palpable as he drinks; You hate that you find it as undeniably sexy as you do. 

“Did you invite me to talk business or to flirt?”

Taesan takes a slow sip of his liquor, leaning closer to you. “And what if I wanted to do both?”

At this point, he’s close enough that you can smell the liquor on his breath—whiskey. If it were anyone else, you would hate the smell. But it’s Taesan, and you find your mouth watering, desiring to drink its essence straight from his mouth. You wonder if his lips would be as soft as they look, if his perfect teeth would nibble on your lips just so.

You clear your throat in an attempt to break the haze of your daydream. 

“What did you need to tell me?” You press, voice vibrating your chest along with the bass of the song blasting through the club speakers. 

Taesan leans even closer, letting his lips brush the soft shell of your ear. 

“I know how to take them out,” he whispers. “I just need you to trust me. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, mouth suddenly dry at the deep drawl of Taesan’s voice in your ear. It’s intoxicating, his confidence, the way he speaks, the soft brush of his lips against your skin. It’s enough to have you clenching your thighs together, ashamed at how easily the man gets you going. 

“What am I going to need to do?”

Taesan pulls away only slightly, clearly disappointed by your response. A large hand comes underneath your chin, nudging your face so that you’re forced to lock eyes with him. It only lasts for a moment, Taesan’s gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes once again. A pink tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, and you find yourself tracking the motion with your gaze. 

“Can you do that?” Taesan repeats firmly. “Do you trust me, baby?”

You don’t know if it’s the deep rasp of his voice or the fire in his gaze, but something about his demeanor tells you that this is real for him and not just the alcohol talking. Taesan knows that this is life or death for both of you. If you’re in this, you have to be in it for real. 

So you take a shaky breath, nodding slowly. 

“I trust you, Taesan.”

The man smirks, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

“Good,” he whispers, dropping your face. “Just know that I got you. We’re taking the Dragons down…together.”

.         .         .

The serpent strikes on a Sunday. 

Taesan came up with the code phrase, his signal to let you know that the plan was in motion. It was the signal for you to come into the scene and do what you do best: be the Beauty of the North. 

Your men come in silently, slowly infiltrating the Dragon’s Den by taking his underlings out one by one. You’ve always been a big fan of silence, favoring knives to guns. It allows each of your men the element of surprise, a simple flick of the wrist opening up each member’s throat and exposing their blood to the world. They fall within seconds. 

It almost seems too easy to make your way through the building, only flanked by two of your men, the only two with firearms. Donghyun’s pistol is decorated with a silencer, the accessory allowing you to keep your element of surprise as he takes out three Dragons stationed near their leader’s office. The opening is clear as the rest of your men continue to take out the lower level Dragons, leaving only one man left to deal with. 

Jaehyun counts you and Donghyun down before kicking the door open, both of their guns ready to fire. However, you’re not expecting to be met with at least five men, one of which wearing a calm expression that you know all too well. At least half of the men are somewhat familiar to you, their black suits all to similar to their leader’s, who greets you with a blank stare. It stuns you into place, the two men next to you equally as shocked. 

“Taesan?”

“And here I was thinking that the fucker was lying,” Kim Jaeyoon, head of the Dragons, snarls. “The Beauty of the North really came to fucking kill me.”

You can’t even bother to address the man, too busy searching the familiar feline gaze that remains trained on you down the barrel of a gun. Your heart has fallen to your feet, a constricting feeling squeezing your throat into knots. You don’t even dare to breathe, too stunned by the thought of one wrong move ending in your death at the hands of your ally. 

Jaeyoon lets out a wicked chuckle, seemingly amused by your stunned state. “It’s over. If you surrender now, I’ll let your men join me instead of killing them. I just might let you be my pretty armpiece, too.”

The man rounds his desk, stooping a few paces from you. Taesan moves with him, consistently protecting the man’s flank. You still can’t manage to look away from him, hurt and betrayal leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“You made me a lucky man, Taesan,” Jaeyoon chuckles. “Who would have thought that you would really deliver me such a pretty thing on a silver platter?”

You flinch away before Jaeyoon can stroke his knuckles against the fullness of your cheekbone. From somewhere behind you, you can hear Jaehyun and Donghyun struggling, no doubt having been restrained the minute you all entered the office. You admire their desire to protect you, even now, when everything is so clearly coming to an end. 

“Don’t play hard to get now. I offered you a generous deal, Y/N,” Jaeyoon cooes, breath rancid where it fans your face. 

Despite your disgust at the man before you, your attention never leaves the figure to his left. Taesan looks stoic as always, almost bored at the interaction in front of him. His nonchalance has anger bubbling in your core, heating your face. 

“Taesan, why?”

The man just blinks back, face unmoving. “Well, the serpent strikes on a Sunday.”

An almost simultaneous cacophony of shots ring out, threatening to burst your eardrums and forcing you to recoil. Something warm and wet splatters across the room, dirtying the otherwise untainted surface of your dress. You’re sure that this is it, that you have finally met your end. But when you don’t feel any sources of searing pain, you dare to open your eyes. 

Taesan’s chest is heaving where he stands over Kim Jaeyoon’s limp body, gun still smoking in his hands. A few of the other unrecognizable men have met a similar fate as their boss, bodies strewn across the luxurious office space. Slowly, Taesan lowers his gun, eyes finally meeting yours. 

“God, I always fucking hated him.”

An arm snakes its way around your waist, pulling your stunned figure into a firm chest. You wonder if Taesan can feel the roaring of your heart where it’s pressed against his, not sure if it’s pounding out of anger or pure fear. 

“Are you okay?” Taesan whispers.

You let out a shaky breath, reveling in the man’s warmth for a moment. But when you regain your composure, you pull away abruptly, landing a harsh blow to Taesan’s arm. 

“Fuck you,” you exclaim. “You scared me, you fuck!”

Taesan hisses as he rubs the sore spot. “What was that for? I just saved your life!”

“I thought you ratted me out!”

Taesan just rolls his eyes, wasting no time in pulling you back into him. This time, he engulfs you in a proper hug, arms tightening around you and tucking you under his chin. You’re powerless to do anything but hug back. 

“I told you that you had to trust me, sweetheart.”

“I did…I still do! It’s just…” you sigh. “Don’t do that again!”

Taesan’s chuckle is little more than just a rumble of his chest underneath your head. “Let’s hope I don’t have to.”

.         .         .

The second time you end up in Taesan’s apartment is unlike the first one. Instead of a sleepy Taesan rambling about his latest torturing, he’s very much awake, mouth too occupied with meeting yours to do any talking. 

Taesan’s mouth is insistent against yours, kissing you deeper, harder, with each press of his lips. It’s far from his usual stoic demeanor, the way his kisses turn demanding and sloppy within seconds. His wandering hands prove to be equally as demanding as they sweep the expanse of your body, squeezing your ass underneath the tight fabric of your dress. 

You aren’t fairing much better, your own fingers tangling in the man’s inky locks. The nibble of teeth against your bottom lip has you arching even further into Taesan’s hold, a soft whimper leaving your lips. It’s too much and not nearly enough all at the same time. You crave to feel the shift of Taesan’s muscles underneath his skin, his hands as they explore you, his mouth as he follows his fingers’ path. 

You’re so consumed that you barely realize that Taesan has pulled away, blindly chasing his lips before you blink your eyes open. Instead of a greasy smirk, Taesan’s mouth is slightly parted, chest heaving where it remains pressed to yours. He slides a hand up to cup your jaw, thumb beginning to trace across your bottom lip. 

“Do you trust me, baby?” He whispers. 

His irises are dark, pupils almost completely eclipsing the small rings of color. Gone is the stoic Taesan that you’re used to. This Taesan feels. And so do you. 

“I trust you, Taesan.”

.FIN.

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 1 Eng Sub

VS PHYSICAL CONTACT and VS HALLOWEEN

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translation notes:

about Mob’s eyebeams (3:47)

Maybe I just think I see tokusatsu references everywhere, but I think there’s an Easter egg of sorts in episode 1. After Mob comes back to himself and celebrates having escaped L’ing a B, he runs through a field beside the airport and some sort of laser beams shoot out of his eyes. The beams are two different colors: red and blue. I suspect this is a reference to Kamen Rider Build, in which Inukai Atsuhiro played the lead rider (also called Kamen Rider Build). Build had a number of forms (different suits, basically) that had different colors and features. The one he’s best known for (the one that comes up at the top of your results if you google “Kamen Rider Build,” among other things) is his “RabbitTank” form, which is half blue and half red, with one blue eye and one red one. 

Kamen Rider Build in RabbitTank form

It’s particularly appropriate for them to reference Build in this show since Inukai’s character on that show, Kiryu Sento, had a pretty ship-y relationship with Banjou Ryuga, a character played by Akaso Eiji from Cherry Magic. At the time, the phrase “a heated relationship between men” was used to describe how they related to each other, and Kamen Rider fans have referenced it ever since when things between two Kamen Rider dudes seem “heated.” The fact that both actors went on to be BL legends is very fitting. And it makes this reference even more appropriate for Zettai BL.–Towel

Inukai Atsuhiro and Akaso Eiji as Kiryu Sento and Banjou Ryuga, toku boyfriends

about “pretending to be possessive” (07:08)

Mob actually says that Ayato is pretending to have a “brother complex,” sometimes abbreviated (as Mob does here) as “brocon.” While this concept is somewhat Western due to its roots in psychoanalysis, it has a specific meaning in Japanese culture that you don't find elsewhere. It describes an obsessive attachment to one’s brother that may include possessiveness and jealousy toward the brother’s romantic partners. Brother complexes are classically associated with sisters, but it’s no surprise that a brother might be expected to have a brother complex in BL World. 

To be clear, though, Mob doesn’t believe that Ayato actually has a brother complex. He thinks he’s pretending to have one so that he’ll have an excuse to act out his actual possessive feelings about Toujou, brought on by Toujou touching Mob. 

Instead of assuming all viewers would be familiar with the idea of the “brother complex,” we decided to describe what Mob is saying in terms of Ayato’s pretending to be possessive. But knowing the specific reference Mob was making here should help to get a more nuanced sense of the meaning of this line.–Towel

It's also relevant to say that in spoken Japanese almost anything can become a "con". Such as brocon, siscon, lolicon, etc.–Snow

about “fair prince” (6:18)

Snow explained to me that Toujou was described here using a word that's associated with classical and poetic Japanese. Historically, it was used to refer to lords and ladies, and it's particularly common in classical Japanese literature. In modern media, it's often used in period dramas and may be used in contemporary settings to describe the person being referred to as admirable in some way. Since it has multiple meanings with specific connotations and various points of reference in Japanese culture, there was no direct equivalent of this in English. Translating it literally word-for-word wouldn't get the point across at all.

I tried to think about what an equivalent type of literature would be in an English-speaking context and what sorts of words or phrases would bring those things to mind. I tried to see if I could get one or two Early Modern English words in there (the kind of English Shakespeare spoke). I also looked for a link to Toujou’s rose motif by checking some famous rose-related quotes from older literary periods. But neither of those methods yielded anything that fit.

Then I started to think about fairy tales, which gave me the idea of calling him a “prince.” I added “fair,” not for any reason related to his coloring (though it’s somewhat appropriate given his blondness) but because it made the description sound a lot more antiquated and fairy tale-ish. Later in the episode, when a similar description was applied to Toujou in his vampire costume, it made perfect sense to make him a “dark prince” instead.–Towel

Tag list: @c1nto @my-rose-tinted-glasses @twig-tea @sorry-bonebag @porridgefeast @bengiyo @lurkingshan @wen-kexing-apologist

[ajje-111]

General Messages 🤍

Pile 1: Man Kissing Hand (Two of pentacles)

Pile 2: Couple Sleeping (The Lovers)

Pile 3: Couple Kissing (Four of Wands)

Pile 4: Heart-Mirror (The World)

With peace and love, I wish you take these messages with and open heart and mind. As in usual tarot fashion, please take what resonates with your heart; as you are the only one that knows what is best for your path.

If there are any specific readings you want me to do in terms of theme please let me know!

Pile 1:

Cards: Two of Pentacles & Eight of Pentacles

Song: “I’d Rather Go Blind” - Beyoncé

Hello to all who were attracted to this pile. I sense this may be my earth sign pile some of you may be a Virgo but it doesn’t have to be.

Someone may have turned down on an opportunity for change. Or may have disappointed you in some way.I see someone accepting a situation for what it is and it makes the other person upset likely the person who gave this offer of opportunity. This could be work related or love be I see it means a lot to you. I feel this relationship is a “big deal” for you nonetheless.

I think you’re working very hard on a certain project right now and don’t want this situation to slow down your progress, it won’t. I see that is not even an option for you. Which right on I believe that your guides are rooting for you to do what feels good. Heavy on discipline, self-care, and achieving mastery in a specific area of your life. Keeping going.

Although I feel like this energy definitely spills into your love life and you may be looking for something solid and someone whom you can build steady ground with. You’re dedicated and devoted to a specific person in your love life, you know who this person is.

Their feelings for you are deep and conflicted, they seem to have accepted a certain message you gave them. They keep saying “it is what it is”. I don’t think their attitude reciprocates the type of dedication you’re asking for. Deep down you know this. I don’t see this person telling you this directly so take with a grain of salt. I see them still engaging with you and continuing your relationship with you like everything is fine. But their actions will speak otherwise so be aware of this. Your guides say to pay close attention to their actions.

Either way, you both are working hard for this relationship in your own separate ways. You could be very analytical as to what you deem as “progress” on the other end or vice versa. I think if you bring more love into your time together you’ll be able to relax and put less pressure on each other. I’m hearing many of you are in different situations so take this message as you see fit. Either way, I see two people who have worked very hard for they have together and sense strong teamwork. If you are looking for answers on how your partner feels then like I said they’ve accepted a certain message specifically something you said, perhaps a boundary or something of that nature. They feel disappointed and will not share this with you or are reluctant to do so if they do end up sharing this with you.

That’s all have for you again take the message you resonate with. Leave which does not. With peace and love, - Wind

Thanks for sharing your time with me! Please interact with my page as it helps me to continue making these posts!

Pile 2:

Cards: The Lovers, Two of Wands, & Queen of Swords

Song: Congratulations (ft. Quavo) - Post Malone

Hello to everyone who was attracted to this pile.

I just wanted to take a moment to congratulate you I feel like many of you have worked very hard for where you are in life right now. This may be my air pile. This would make sense because I feel an extreme sense of confidence coming from your end. Feelings of embracing and being assertive in your individuality, I really like this energy and it is a good look on you too. I see you attracting many people from your past in this moment.

At this moment you’re stepping into a new path of your life or planning for it. I see you romanticizing your life with mood boards, instagram, pictures or video edits. You’re moved and inspired by music a lot, I think it brings you a peace that is spiritual and allows your to tap into your world. You could be in college I see you trying to manage your school or work routine by pampering yourself, making sure you look good and feel good in order to get certain things you don’t necessarily want to do, done.

I’m seeing a few love offers from people you know and may not know. Nonetheless it is making you feel damn good about yourself. I don’t necessarily see you taking action towards anything physically but you’ve definitely been contemplating it honey. Lol and I mean it, I see you’ve been considering a few people who tickle your fancy.

There is two energies I pick up on, one is someone you almost feel is entitled to your love and the other person you someone you believe is some what out of reach for you.

This person who you feel is entitled to your love, is sweet and gentle and loves you deeply. You feel this love but this is simply a reflection of who they are and how they view themselves. You are not entitled to someone’s love just because they’re nice to you. I sense there is some guilt, it could be you or this person I don’t know.

The next person is someone who you feel is not attainable for x or y reasons, only you know this. But I know you feel like they’re out of reach for some reason. Your or this person knows that there is potential for a future together. I’m not sure in what aspect but they’re showing up as someone who can give you “the world”. It comes from a place of denial, but I see it is something you want.

I sense a strong urge from your guides to not get caught up in the now. Plan for what’s ahead, I see that you may not be looking for something serious right now which is smart because you’re going to be on the move quickly. Your world is rapidly changing right now, if you would like to share it which I sense that you do, then let it be with someone who loves and accepts your wishes and desires and bring that kind of fulfillment to your life.

Again take what resonates, with peace and love I wish you well.- Wind

Thanks for sharing your time with me! Please interact with my page as it helps me to continue making these posts!

Pile 3:

Cards: The Four of Wands &The High Priestess

Song: Autumn Changes - Donna Summer

Hello, pile 3 visitors, wonderful energy that is here today. I have this overwhelming sensation of being refreshed and calm in my mind. You may meditate often or are going through a difficult time that requires you to be in the moment and have a sharp mind.

Whatever it is that you are currently manifesting you will receive it. Take this as confirmation for something you've been asking the divine for.

Concerning your love life there is a stage of introspection that you're going through. You're either with someone or single I'm not feeling anything specific for those factors. You set a high standard for yourself in terms of creating a meaningful manifestation that will be divinely guided. Spirit is rooting for you and asks you to continue on the journey and listen to your intuition. Especially when it comes to financial matters of the heart, trust yourself.

There is definitely a confirmation about something you have been working on. For some of you, it is a work project. Could be something you've been helping your family with, like moving or giving someone a place to stay. There is a moment that you share with a meaningful connection, and you feel the empowering nature of love. There may have been a birth in your family, congratulations, this is not a message for everyone.

For some of you who resonate with this being a work endeavor, it will be successful through connecting and bonding with your team. Someone on your team may have a crush on you. If you had that initial feeling but didn't trust in it, this is confirmation that you were right. They want to take you out on a date after this project is over. Something of that nature would apply if this is someone you met online, through school, or someone you know.

If you're in a relationship right now I see that you are happy with the way you handled a certain disagreement with your partner. You believe that being able to express yourself with clarity will allow your relationship to be stronger.

That's all I have for you be safe, be well. With peace and love -Wind

Thanks for sharing your time with me! Please interact with my page as it helps me to continue making these posts!

PIle 4:

Cards: The World & Six of Pentacles

Song: If You Want It - Niteflyte

Hello, pile 4, welcome to your messages.

“If people define situations as real, they are real in their consequences." - Thomas theorem, sociologists WI and Dorothy Thomas

This was a quote I learned through my studies, and it is straightforward and to the point. It also goes hand in hand with the world card and the symbolism of the mirror you chose. It simply defines manifestation and its process. We can choose to do something or decide in the power of choice. This could mean different things for many of you so I'm hearing. How you define your choices and decisions is a good gauge to reflect on how you are connecting with your intuition and ego.

This pile requires deep reflection on what you want in this world. Spirit wants to remind you that life is like a dream, sometimes things appear magically, and that's because this world we live in is an illusion, reflecting light in a variety of fractal colors that we define as real. Make the colors you see. The reason I say this is because you have all the capable qualities to make your dreams come true. Spirit recognizes your potential, take this as confirmation. Be specific in what you want, not materially, but energetically. I said this in another pile I believe, but envision yourself in the body of your dream reality and you will find answers. Be creative and firm with what it is you want.

I don't know what this manifestation may mean to you all I know is that it is a great deal of stress for you. In the sense that you are worried that it is too good to be true. You don't engage with this thought often but it sits in the back of your mind. Spirit sees this as a blockage, a small one at that. For it is a choice to actually believe in this thought, to that which is up to you.

If you continue to appreciate your surroundings, loved ones, co-workers, etc. people who will do the same for you, I see you ultimately seeing the light with that which you are, in your physical reality.

Very beautiful energy, you guys might be master manifestors because it was hard for me to pick up on any past or future energy. There is a groundedness to this energy that is constantly trying to remain in the present moment of things. This will take you far.

If you're also a tarot reader spirit asks you to meditate, and keep up the good work, for "we are the angels who are kind enough to spread the wisdom of the divine."

I hope this helps, be safe and well. With peace and love. - Wind

Thanks for sharing your time with me! Please interact with my page as it helps me to continue making these posts!

[starcurtain]

Ratiorine Fics I Want to Read

1) Modern AU: When Veritas Ratio discovers a beautiful businessman poised to jump from the roof of his apartment building, he does something he's never done half as seriously before: makes a bet. One month--in just one month, he will find this "Aventurine" a reason to keep living. The terms: 30 days, anything goes, whatever it takes to make some kind of meaning out of a miserable existence. If Ratio loses, a brilliant-eyed gambler will disappear from the world forever. If Aventurine loses... well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. (Of course, neither of them anticipated that Ratio would end up becoming Aventurine's reason to live--but there's something to be said for non-zero-sum games.)

2) "I'm real sorry to bother you, mister, but I think I'm lost?" Aventurine is pretty sure he's dreaming. Pretty sure he's been pulled back to the hellscape known as Penacony. Pretty sure the Lady Emanator might need to come back and take another swing at him, to burn out the last hold of the Harmony for real this time. Because those are the only logical explanations for why Aventurine is currently locking eyes with his own younger self, standing very confused in the middle of his trussed up Pier Point condo, far from the Family's shadow. (Or: That one where a blessing from Gaiathra temporarily sends the young Kakavasha out of harm's way--straight into the care of his future self. Aventurine isn't the ideal person to care for a child, but hells if he's going to let his younger self experience anything less than the safest and most wonderful weeks of his short, miserable life. The only real problem is, well, how is he possibly going to explain this to Ratio?)

3) A super soft, small fic of Ratio reflecting on all the ways his life has changed since Aventurine came into it--there's noise in his apartment now, and a photo on his desk in the office; there's troublesome snacks to pet sit and someone keeps sneaking inappropriate jokes into his lecture transcripts. There's a sounding board to test his lesson topics on, and a peacock on his cellphone lock screen because he's developed a newfound fondness for the color. There's a go-between nowadays when the ravenous investors come sniffing after the results of his research, and unlabeled packages containing exotic bath salts from star systems even Ratio has never heard of... But most beloved of all: the sense of soundness and symmetry, of something unexpected settling perfectly into his hold, at last.

4) Bodyswap AU: Ratio and Aventurine end up on a mission that goes wrong in every sense of the word (aeons, it's always aeons). They're separated with probably half the known universe between them, stranded on unrecorded planets without credits or technology, and--most bizarrely have all--have definitely swapped bodies. Cool. Cool. What the fuck. Aventurine is honestly tempted to say he might be coming out ahead in this whole drama--he's ripped and tall now--until he discovers that in Ratio's body, he doesn't have his luck. Meanwhile, Ratio is discovering just how much harder life is for Signonians, and coming to truly appreciate how strong of a person Aventurine really is. Somehow, they've got to make it back from half way across the universe, accomplish their mission, and get their own bodies back. Please?

5) A collection of complaint logs very important internal IPC records:

Complaints received on the dangerous behavior of new Stoneheart "Aventurine of Stratagems"

Complaints received on the hostile work environment created by Intelligentsia Guild Consultant Dr. Veritas Ratio

Request for transfer

Request for transfer

Request for transfer

Proposal (Joking) to assign Stoneheart Aventurine to joint mission with Intelligentsia Guild Consultant Dr. V. R.

Request for transfer

Request for transfer

Proposal (No Longer Joking) to assign Stoneheart Aventurine to joint mission with IG Consultant Dr. V. R.

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete, three days before projected date, Casualties: 0, Complaints: 0

Note from Clerk #157B to Clerk #162S, on digital post-it: "Are you seeing this shit?"

Mission Report, Status: Complete, two days behind schedule, Complaints: 1 - "Please don't subject me to the drivel of untrained imbeciles again. If you're going to send someone from outside the Technology Department, at least provide a competent strategist. The same one from last time, preferably."

Mission Report, Status: Complete, Casualties: 1, Complaints: 1 - "Just send Ratio next time, okay?"

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Complaint received on the questionable conduct of Stoneheart Aventurine: "Why did my boss send me to buy bath bombs? Who are these for?"

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Complaint received on the biased behavior of IG Consultant Dr. V. R.: "Why does boss get called 'dear gambler' while the rest of us are 'fool'?"

Penacony Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Notice of Hiatus from Intelligentsia Guild Activities and Sabbatical from Lecturing, Reason Given: None

Request for Paid Leave, to: Diamond, cc: Jade, bcc: Topaz, Reason Given: Elopement 💖

6) Maybe it's not a sensitive thing to ask. Maybe some stories are better left in the past. But Veritas Ratio has never been able to curb his desire to know--nor his desire to right the wrongs the world with that knowledge. Laid bare, pale against the lip of the tub, with nothing but the rippling of the bathwater to accompany him, Aventurine tells the story of each of his scars. Some marks cannot be washed away. But some--with time, with touch--can heal.

[curlyhairedsimp]

I think about this show a lot. I think about Ford a lot and his thoughts. Why he chose to do things the way he did. Now I’m not trying to place blame but it will sound like it. Ford factually without a doubt fucked up cause he thought that he was supposed to be the man to turn to for these things. He is supposed to tell you if it’s dangerous. He just didn’t account for this other being actually being able to outsmart him.

Bill in the beginning was trying to figure Ford out. I’m sure that he wasn’t quite sure where he stood but Bill doesn’t get attached for no reason. He saw what Ford could become with his selfishness and thought with how far Ford was willing to take it this would be okay too.

Ford isn’t an idiot and he knew what he was building. This part is more of a head canon than anything but in his journals the progression of the books doesn’t really show that Ford slowly feels suspicious of Bill. It’s like one page to the next and that’s why I think bill just laid it out for him. He tried to get ahead of Ford figuring out he was actually lying to him and so he told him. He could bring the weird here and Ford was mortified probably. He was given access to things most people can’t even dream of. It’s why I know it’s his hubris considering more that more than anything that the most important thing to him was preserving his research from being destroyed even when he’s trying to fix everything.

So when Stan calls him selfish in the basement and he gets mad at Stan. It’s because of all people he didn’t want to hear it from one person and it was Stan. Cause to him the most selfish person in the world is right in front of him. Not even realizing that Stan wasn’t wrong to call him that. He almost damned the world for trusting an anomaly and instead of just letting Stan destroy the book. He fights him for it cause he respects his own work too much to destroy it. When it could kill so many people and it was just the best course of action at the time. Regardless of why it was being done.

Ford never unlearned those selfish tendencies cause that’s just how consuming his work is. I think in this sense Ford is a lot like Mabel except Ford doesn’t get hate like Mabel does. Even though Mabel actually goes out of her way to acknowledge her selfishness. Also Mabel is 12 and Ford is like 60. And was like practically 30 making all the mistakes he did.

In terms of emotions/values Ford and Mabel are very similar even if they don’t enjoy the same things. Like the unicorn hair incident. That wouldn’t have bothered Stan or Dipper nearly as much as Mabel or Stanford. Cause they strive to be those things and more so it hurts when someone says otherwise.

In conclusion Ford needed fucking therapy yesterday and Stan deserves hugs.

[storm-angel989]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do valentino x teen reader where as, teen reader is in her rebellious era and how valentino would handle the situation?

Thank you in advanced! i love your works and i hope u have a great day!

Hi friend,

So I tried to make this different from my others- rather than going through a hair dying, secret piercing rebellion, what about those of us who decided we wanted to change the world without truly understanding why the world was the way it was? Those of us who tried to protest, to fight against the way life is run? 

Enjoy!

<3 Mandy  

Valentino stared at his daughter in disbelief. Disbelief that she would be so bold. Disbelief that she would dare to question the very thing that brought them the comfort and safety they surrounded themselves with. Disbelief that she honestly thought she would get out the door, let alone get away with dressed….

Dressed like that. 

“It’s a statement, Dad,” Reader snapped. “Now move, my friends and I have plans.”

“If you think for one second my daughter, Vox and Velvette’s niece, is going to involve herself in anything that has to do with canceling soul bound contracts you’ve got another thing coming,” Valentino retorted. 

“Hell is paved with the labor of unpaid souls,” his daughter replied as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And it’s about time my generation does something about it.”

Valentino took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, “put your tits away. And then we can talk about your misguided ideals.” 

“Aren't you the overlord of lust?” She growled. “Shouldn’t you be so proud that I…”

“I will not tell you again. No daughter of mine will leave this building dressed like…like…” Valentino couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Readers eyes narrowed. “Dressed like what, Dad? Like one of your whores? My point exactly, you wouldn’t want your daughter dressed like this! Those souls are someone's daughter, someone’s..”

Valentino felt his temper flare, and it took every single ounce of his self control to not explode right then and there. How could he have raised such a disrespectful brat? A child who dared to desire to shout about things she knew nothing about? A child who so blatantly disrespected everything her family had worked so hard to build. 

“Go to your room,” he said finally, “now.”

“I hate you!” She screamed. 

To his relief, she whirled around and a moment later, he heard the door slam. With a sigh, he turned back to the table and tossed what remained of his now cold breakfast into the trash. 

“You’ve got your hands full today, don’t you?” Vox remarked as he took a drink of his coffee. “Good call on keeping her home.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Valentino asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Anyone?”

Vox and Velvette exchanged glances. To Valentino’s irritation, Vox smirked and Velvette rolled her eyes.

“If you have any ideas, please, I’d love to hear them,” Valentino said sarcastically as he flopped himself back into his chair.

“I mean, Val, you’ve always been so good at keeping her out of the dark side of hell,” Vox began slowly. “Maybe it’s time you show her what life would be like if we didn’t…if we didn’t offer the employment opportunities that we do.”

“Or! Better suggestion, if you don’t want to traumatize the poor kid,” Velvette interjected, “offer to let her sit in Vox’s office and read through any contract she’d like. See the terms and conditions and see that really, we’re doing all sinners and hellborne a favor. And we pay them. Better than most, I would think.” 

Vox choked on his coffee and in one fell motion, his cup slammed against the table. “You want me…to take whatever evil that swept up my sweet niece…into my office and let her loose on our contracts? Just let her know all the dirty details?”

“Obviously, keep the worst ones tucked away, but give her a chance to see…even the slightly more in our favor agreements,” Velvette replied. “Shove some common sense into her face. That’ll help.” 

“If it’s the best idea we’ve got…ugh,” Valentino grumbled. “When exactly will she find her common sense again?”

“Sorry Val, if she’s anything like us…it’s gonna be awhile,” Vox answered with a grin.

[writingwithcolor]

[Running Commentary] Zombies are Zombies: Cultural Relativism, Folklore, and Foreign Perspectives

She obviously started getting into media in Japan, and (from my research into Japanese media and culture), Japan’s movies about zombies are mostly comedic, since due to traditional funerary practices the idea of zombies bringing down society is ridiculous to a lot of Japanese people. 

Rina: OP, this you? https://www.tofugu.com/japan/japanese-zombies/

Marika: Counterpoint: Parasite Eve. Resident Evil. The Evil Within. 

Rina: Literally all the grody horror game franchises that people forget were developed and written by Japanese people because the characters have names like “Leon Kennedy” and “Sebastian Castellanos” 

~ ~ ~

Based on the reception we received the last time we did one of these, the Japanese moderator team returns with another running commentary. (They’re easier to answer this way) (Several of Marika’s answers may be troll answers)

Our question today pertains to foreign perspectives on folklore—that is, how people view folklore and stories that aren’t a part of their culture. CW: for anything you’d associate with zombies and a zombie apocalypse, really.

Keep reading for necromancy, horror games, debunking the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, Hong Kong jiangshi films, Japanese disaster prep videos, and Vietnamese idol pop...

Essentially, in my story there’s an organization who wants to end the world. They think this one woman in particular, a woman of mixed Vietnamese (irreligious, Kinh) and Japanese descent who spent her formative years in Japan, is the person to do it because she’s (for lack of a better term) a necromancer; powers are semi-normal in this world. She prefers not to use her powers overall, but when she does she mostly talks to ghosts and spirits that are giving people issues. She could technically reanimate a corpse but she wouldn’t because she feels that would be morally wrong, not to mention she couldn’t start a zombie apocalypse in the traditional sense (plague, virus, etc.) in the first place. 

(Marika (M): Your local public health officials would like to assure necromancers that reviving the dead will not provoke a zombie apocalypse. This is because necromancy is a reanimation technique, and not a pathogenic vector. Assuming that the technique does not release spores, airborne viruses, gasses, or other related physical matter that can affect neighboring corpses in a similar way, there should be no issue. However, necromancers should comply with local regulations w/r to permitting and only raise the dead with the approval of the local municipality and surviving family.)

M: I think it makes sense for most people of E. Asian descent, including Japanese and Vietnamese people, to find it culturally reprehensible to reanimate the dead. I imagine the religious background of your character matters as well. What religion(s) are her family members from? How do they each regard death and the treatment of human remains? Depending on where she grew up, I’m curious on how she got opportunities to practice outside specialized settings like morgues.

M: It’s true, space in Japan is at a premium, even for the dead. You note that most of Japan cremates, but, surely, it must have occurred to you that if there aren’t that many bodies in Japan to raise…she doesn’t exactly have much opportunity to practice with her powers, does she? I yield to our Vietnamese followers on funerary customs in Vietnam, but you may want to better flesh out your world-building logic on how necromancy operates in your story (And maybe distinguish between necromancy v. channeling v. summoning v. exorcisms). 

She obviously started getting into media in Japan, and (from my research into Japanese media and culture), Japan’s movies about zombies are mostly comedic, since due to traditional funerary practices the idea of zombies bringing down society is ridiculous to a lot of Japanese people. 

Rina (R): OP, this you? https://www.tofugu.com/japan/japanese-zombies/

M: Counterpoint: Parasite Eve. Resident Evil. The Evil Within. 

R: Literally all the grody horror game franchises that people forget were developed and written by Japanese people because the characters have names like “Leon Kennedy” and “Sebastian Castellanos” 

R: And yes, the Tofugu article uses Resident Evil and those games to support its theory, with the reason that they are set in the West. But that only suggests that Japanese people consider zombies a Western thing, not that Japanese people consider zombies nonthreatening if they were to exist. 

M: Same with vampires - series like Castlevania also use Western/ European settings and not “Vampires in Japan '' because vampires just aren't part of our folklore.

(M: Also, realistically, these series deal with individuals who quickly perish after their bodies are used as hosts for the pathogen in question, rather than the pathogen reanimating a corpse. Although the victims are initially alive, they soon succumb to the pathogen/ parasite and their organic matter then becomes an infectious vector for the disease. It should be noted, infecting ordinary, living humans with viruses to grant them elevated powers, is not only a major violation of consent and defies all recommendations made by the Belmont Report (in addition to a number of articles in the Hague Convention w/r to the use of WMDs) and is unlikely to be approved by any reputable university’s IRB committee. This is why the Umbrella Corporation are naughty, naughty little children, and honestly, someone should have assassinated Wesker for the grant money.)

R: wwww

From what I know Vietnam didn’t have a zombie movie until 2022. 

R: Do you mean a domestically produced zombie movie? Because Vietnamese people have most certainly had access to zombie movies for a long time. The Hong Kong film Mr. Vampire (1985) was a gigantic hit in Southeast Asia; you can find a gazillion copies of this movie online with Viet subs, with people commenting on how nostalgic this movie is or how they loved it as a kid. 

M: “Didn’t have a [domestic] zombie movie” is not necessarily the same thing as “Would not have made one if the opportunity had arisen.” None of us here are personifications of the Vietnamese film industry, I think it’s safe to say we couldn’t know. Correlation is not causation. It’s important to do your research thoroughly, and not use minor facts to craft a narrative based on your own assumptions.

(R: …Also, I did find a 2017 music video for “Game Over” by the Vietnamese idol Thanh Duy which features… a zombie apocalypse.)

(R: The MV has a very campy horror aesthetic and zombie backup dancers (which I love, everyone please watch this lol). But the scenes at the beginning and end where people are biting their fingers watching a threatening news report clearly establish that the zombies are considered a threat.)

So at one point, she laughs about the idea and remarks how ridiculous it is to think zombies could end the world. What I’m struggling with are other ways to show her attitude on the issue because I’d assume most non-Japanese readers wouldn’t get why she thinks like that. Are there any other ways to show why she thinks this way, especially ones that might resonate more with a Japanese reader?

R: The problem is this does not resonate in the first place. Your line of thinking is too Sapir-Whorf-adjacent. The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, otherwise known as linguistic relativity theory, claims that language shapes cognition—that you can’t conceive of something if you can’t express it in your language. This is a very weak theory that you can easily bring evidence against: think of the last time you felt an emotion you had a hard time putting into words; just because you didn’t have the language for it doesn’t mean that you didn’t feel it, nor does it mean that you won’t be able to understand or recognize it if you feel it again. Similarly, it’s not a sound assumption to say that if some kind of subject matter does not exist in a culture, then people of that culture couldn't possibly conceive of it. This excerpt from linguist Laura Bailey sums it up quite well. 

M: Just because ghosts may be more culturally relevant doesn’t mean that zombies (or vampires, or whatever) are nonexistent in a Japanese or Vietnamese person’s imagination when it comes to horror and disaster.

R: Really,  if anything, Japanese people are much more attuned to how easily a society’s infrastructure can be destroyed by a disruptive force without adequate preparation. Japan is natural disaster central. A Japanese person would know better than anyone that if you aren’t prepared for a zombie epidemic—yeah it’s gonna be bad. 

M: Earthquakes, tsunami, typhoon, floods: Japan has robust disaster infrastructure out of necessity. 防災 or bousai, meaning disaster preparedness is a common part of daily life, including drills at workplaces, schools, and community organizations. Local government and community agencies are always looking for ways to make disaster and pandemic preparedness relevant to the public.

M: Might “zombie apocalypse prep as a proxy for disaster prep” be humorous in an ironic, self-deprecating way? Sure, but it’s not like Japanese people are innately different from non-Japanese people. Rather, by being a relatively well-off country practiced at disaster preparation with more experience than most parts of the world with many different types of disasters (and the accompanying infrastructure), it likely would seem more odd to most Japanese people within Japan to not handle a zombie apocalypse rather like might one handle a combination of a WMD/ chemical disaster+pandemic+civil unrest (all of which at least some part of Japan has experienced). Enjoy this very long, slightly dry video on COVID-19 safety procedures and preparedness using the framing device of surviving a zombie apocalypse.

M: Living in Los Angeles, I’ve often experienced similar tactics. We do a fair amount of advance and rehearsed disaster prep here as well. In elementary school, the first and last days of class were always for packing and unpacking home-made disaster packs, and “zombie apocalypse” simulations have been around since I was in middle school for all kinds of drills, including active shooter drills, like the one shown in this LAT article. The line between “prepper” and “well prepared” really comes down to degree of anxiety and zeal. So, it wouldn’t be just Japanese people who might not be able to resonate with your scene. The same could be said for anyone who lives somewhere with a robust disaster prevention culture.

M: A zombie apocalypse is not “real” in the sense of being a tangible threat that the majority of the world lives in fear of waking up to (At least, for the mental health of most people, I hope so). Rather, zombie apocalypse narratives are compelling to people because of the feelings of vague, existential dread they provoke: of isolation, paranoia, dwindling resources, and a definite end to everything familiar. I encourage you to stop thinking of the way Japanese people and non-Japanese people think about vague, existential dread as incomprehensible to each other. What would you think about zombies if they actually had a chance of existing in your world? That’s probably how most Japanese people would feel about them, too.

[thesensteawitch]

What Will Your Romantic Life Look Like?

🍁Based on your current energy!🍁

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!💕

I am back with another collective reading. This reading is about your future romantic life.

This reading is strictly based on your current energy so take it as it resonates. You can change your future based on your actions + this is a general reading.

💓Book A Reading|My Rate Card|Tip My Blog💓

Pile 1

Tarot cards- The Chariot, Seven of Cups, Two of Cups, Page of Swords, King of Swords, The Moon

Hello, my beautiful pile 1. Your romantic life is going to be very much focused on a dream that you and your partner have for your relationship. Love is not a destination and you both would know that and that's why there will be days in which you would want to experience everything together. You both will somehow be forging towards your destined path (basically your north node) and time will prove to you that you both are soulmates. Number 8 is of significance in this connection. I am seeing “the strength card” too. On your path, the challenges that you will face will only make your bond stronger. It's going to be a one-of-a-kind experience for you. Once in a lifetime to be precise! Not everyone will have the kind of connection that both of you will have with each other. Strong communication will be the foundation of your romantic life with your person. There is going to be a balance between emotions and logic. When you're vulnerable you will be too vulnerable with each other. Some connections only travel in the 3d world but your connection will be of a kind that will be ever-growing and eternally travelling through different dimensions. Your romantic life is going to be very spiritual. Dates will never end, and meetings will never end. The connection will never lose its spark. There is going to be so much you both would want to do with each other that you will end up confused and will find it challenging to bring your life together. But eventually whichever direction you choose to move in you will end up bumping into each other. Because as I said this connection is fated. I am sensing strong water and air sign placements in both of your birth charts. People around you will secretly compete with the kind of connection you guys have with each other. They will wonder, “Is this even real? Does this kind of love even exist in this day and age?” You both will help each other in healing each other's shadow sides. There won't be a single moment when you both don't feel safe with each other. You guys just compliment each other like ketchup and fries, haha! They are meant to be served together. You two will learn a lot. You'll be achieving long-term goals and stability with each other. Buying a home or living together will come later in your life because you two will build everything (by everything I mean every damn thing) together from scratch so it will take time. But you're going to have the kind of life no one can crumble down. No one! You both won't be able to walk away until you both throw each other into eternal glory. And right in that glory, you will never be able to forget each other. You will never forget the karmas that you both healed together. The darkness that you both dealt with each other will hold your glory high above in the astral sky. You both will overcome so many fears together. Wow! It's such a beautiful connection. One is a dove and the other is a dolphin. Both are from different worlds but so pure, so connected. One looks above and the other below and just like that they fall in love. It's one-of-a-kind love. Not everyone will be able to understand it so don't expect the world to understand your love anyway.

If you wish to know how to manifest your soulmate then book a reading with me at $9/₹666 (5 cards pull).

Pile 2

Tarot Cards- Four of Cups, The Lovers, The Magician, The Emperor, Ace of Pentacles, Knight of Wands

Hello, my beautiful pile 2. The first thing that I see in your love is the individualistic nature of you and your partner. You two will be very different from each other yet perfect for each other. There will be a lot of mirroring in your connection. You both will see your reflection in the other. It will shock you, surprise you. One will be sunshine and the other will be midnight rain. The advice you both give to each other will work wonders if you both are willing to see life from each other's perspective. Your romantic life will be quite organised. Doing something new in your connection will scare both of you. Overthinking is what will always prevail. Prioritising emotions can be a problem in your connection. As this reading is based on your current energy I also see choices will be needed to make quite often. These choices will overwhelm both of you but eventually, you'll choose each other and will make things work around the choice you make for each other. The choices you make on an individual level are what is going to bring you together. There will be a lot of risks involved in your connection. One of you may have had difficult relationships in the past so having a heartfelt communication can be a challenge. You two will end up together after going through a lot of tests and trials. The connection will have a lot of passion but it won't be easy. You both will be challenged to get rid of the unnecessary worries in your connection. There will be a healing that you would need to do before the relationship can finally emerge into something beautiful. You both will be devoted to each other and the more devoted you are the more challenges you will face. But all these challenges will act as an opportunity for you to heal the parts of you that can affect your connection negatively. Reminding each other how much you love each other will be crucial in your connection. Your romantic life will begin right after you both have faced your demons and worked on them individually. You both will only think of each other after the storm has settled and there's a comfortable quiet. You both will go to extremes to shower each other will love. I hear, “I belong with you, you belong with me. You're my sweetheart.” You both won't stop loving each other in chaos or storms it's just that you will be forced to help yourself first before loving the other. Your empty cups will fill with time and then it will never run out of love. This connection will bring an end to a never-ending pain/cycle. You both will be afraid to lose each other but also to lose yourself in the process of loving each other. But later on you both will realise the importance of heartfelt communication and your vulnerability will bring trust.

If you wish to know how to manifest your soulmate then book a reading with me at $9/₹666 (5 cards pull).

Pile 3

Tarot Cards- The Emperor, Six of Wands, The Moon, Two of Wands, Two of Swords, Eight of Wands

Hello, my beautiful pile 3. I heard that your connection will be blessed by God. You'll be divinely supported in your romantic journey. I see an exchange of rings, communication and a lot of travel. Some details may get missed because you both fall for each other at first sight. There will be quickness in this connection. A lot will be overlooked and you two may end up marrying each other quite early into dating. Logically it will feel like a wrong move and you both may even question your judgement later on but divinely speaking this is exactly what is supposed to happen. There will be an instant connection between you and your partner. You may even feel caged later on but hear me out. You must be thinking then why would I even end up marrying this person? Well, I don't know the exact answer but I can see that there will be ancestors' support in this marriage. Perhaps, it's the kind of connection where it was a contract that you signed with this person on a soul level. I seriously don't know what your beliefs are pile 3 but this is something I am strongly getting. Like it is meant to go this way. I know I might sound insane. Also, this reading is based on your current energy so take it that way. You do have the power to change your future. The marriage will bring so much happiness to the families. When the love in the air will fade a bit you two will realise that one is trying to keep the peace (who wants to have soulful conversation) and the other is trying to risk their dreams to have a stable married life. And soon you both will speak your heart out to each other and things may go out of hand because of the overwhelming energy. As soon as the conversation puts you both off balance it will bring stability too as you both will understand each other and will provide the safety to work on your dreams. Wow! So that's why you would end up marrying this person. You'll achieve great things with the help and support of each other. You both will show each other the mirror of how powerful you are and how capable you are. And after this what will follow will be victory and generosity. You both will come together to give each other a strong career boon. You may not stay together for a long time but will definitely appreciate the change you both brought into each other's lives.

If you wish to know how to manifest your soulmate then book a reading with me at $9/₹666 (5 cards pull).

[afewproblems]

I want Steve to find out about the simultaneous games that happened at the beginning of season 4.

That Eddie insisted that the hellfire session went on as scheduled, despite the fact that Lucas wouldn't be able to make it.

Lucas, one of Steve's kids, who Steve had defended from being beaten up, putting himself in the line of fire from that racist asshole Billy Hargrove.

Lucas, who had been pushed aside and alienated from his longtime friends just because he also liked sports and wanted to try and remain afloat in the ocean of high school.

Lucas, who loved his friends and and enjoyed different things, because spoiler alert you can in fact be a jock and like Dungeons and Beasts or whatever the hell it was called. Steve enjoyed Star Wars and could dunk, proof right there.

But all it took was one word from Eddie, and Dustin and Mike not only didn't go to Lucas's game, but they couldn't even be happy for him about the championship AND their final session of their long-term campaign went on as scheduled despite the absence of the oldest Sinclair.

Sure Jason Carver turned out to be a crazy asshole but Steve knew exactly how it felt to be caught between worlds and the biggest difference was that Lucas had always been a good person.

Unlike him.

One nice thing about his King Steve days was that he knew how to push, and he could turn it on for a day, just to knock some sense into a certain curly haired metal head.

"Hang back a sec man," Steve says almost casually as they exit Eddie's van after pulling into the movie theater. The kids tumble out of the open doors and race towards the building, pushing each other in their hurry to get in line for the second running of Highlander.

"What's up Stevie?" Eddie says, his dimpled grin comes out in full force as he looks Steve up and down, leaning back again the front of the vehicle grill. His arms cross loosely over his Black Sabath shirt and the various rings and chains sparkle in the high afternoon sun. He looks great today.

Focus Steve.

He clears his throat and sighs, trying to get into the heads pace from earlier when he initially found out what happened from Dustin. He had been absolutely furious.

But the flame of righteous fury had dissipated, leaving behind a cold feeling of disappointment in Eddie. It hung heavy and immovable in his chest, he needed to talk to him.

"Hey uh, I heard about the championship game man, Lucas's game".

Eddie tilts his head slightly, his brown doe eyes scanning Steve's face with confusion.

"What the basketball game back in March? That was like six months ago man? What about it?"

"Did you ever apologize to Lucas?" Steve asks, he keeps his face neutral, not wanting to influence the answer as Eddie scoffs. Not a great sign.

"For what Harrington?" And that stings a little, he'd been Stevie for the last two months or so, sometimes a Honey or Sweetheart thrown into the mix and Steve felt that they were barreling their way towards something new.

Steve swallows, he can't let this go, not even for Eddie.

"It was a shit thing to do man, to not let Lucas play and to not let Dustin and Mike go to support him--"

"Those kids know that the campaign comes first, that's the first tenant of Hellfire and they know that going in!" Eddie snarls, he steps forward towards Steve who holds his ground with narrowed eyes.

Fine.

"I thought you were above that sort of thing Munson, judging people for the things they like? Assuming things about a person and writing them off".

Eddie stops, his face paling slightly, his angry expression flickers once but remains in place as he crosses his arms again.

"Those games can't be rescheduled man," Steve continues with a shake of his head, "it's not even the school that decides the schedule for the season, it's the districts and the coaches, and who fucking cares if he was on the bench for most of the season? Because he played! And none of you were there".

Steve sighs and runs a tired hand over his face, "Not even his friends who he has known since pre-school. And with Will gone and Max dealing with all that shift from Starcourt and Vecna it was just the three of them, and you took that from him man".

Eddie stares at him, he says nothing, he doesn't even look like he's breathing right now and Steve feels like shit.

"I'm just saying, if you do that again, to any of them, to my kids," Steve says matter of factly, "then we'll have a problem".

"That supposed to be a threat, King Steve?" Eddie sneers at him, but his shoulders are dropping, and there is no true heat behind the words.

Steve shakes his head as Mike pops out of the double doors of the entrance and yells at the pair of them to, shit or get off the pot because what hell is taking them so long?

"No Eddie, it's not a threat because I'm hoping that you'll do the right thing. Because I know you love those kids and you're not an asshole".

He turns on his heel and heads towards the doors, leaving Eddie with the empty van. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, and the cold feeling in his chest spreads and spreads as he goes over the conversation again and again.

It stings a little to know that he's ruined whatever he had with Eddie but he couldn't let this go, friends don't lie after all.

He grabs their tickets, still buying one for Eddie --just in case, though the other man has not entered the building.

Steve tamps down the tight feeling of disappointment that grows the longer Eddie remains outside. If Eddie takes off, leaving them there, Steve can cover, he'll get Nancy to pick them up or maybe Jonathan --they're on better footing these days. He'll say Eddie had some kind of emergency come up, that Wayne needed him for something.

Yeah, friends didn't lie, but how could he break the kids' hearts like this?

They thankfully don't seem to pick up on this as they chatter about Sean Connery and what flavor of soda to get.

"Oh there you are dude! We thought you got kidnapped!" Dustin suddenly crows beside Steve, he turns to see Eddie behind him, a strange expression on his face.

Oh thank God.

"Nah, just had a quick smoke before the movie man, uh actually I wanted to borrow Lucas for a sec if that's cool?"

The kids look from Eddie to Steve, as though to check if he knows what's going on, Eddie hasn't been this shifty since March when Chrissy's death hit the news.

Steve nudges Lucas by the shoulder, leaning slightly down to say, "I'll grab your snacks, go on".

Lucas gives him a confused look over his shoulder before following Eddie outside the entrance  the doors swing closed just as Dustin whirls on Steve.

"What the hell was that!" He demands with crossed arms and a scowl on his face, his blue eyes scanning Steve's own for something, some information about what is going on outside.

"Yeah, you guys are being weird," Mike snarks from over his shoulder, he's standing with Will and El who watch the interaction with curious eyes, "first you take forever to come in and now this?"

And so much for the kids not picking up on it.

"You guys are pretty nosy," Steve hums, deflecting with a small smile as he ruffles Dustin's curls and steps forward with the rest of the line.

Dustin glares with narrowed eyes and huffs, "Fine, I'll just ask Lucas about it".

Steve snorts, he isn't sure if the kids have even talked about it. They've all been friends long enough now that this one event wouldn't be enough to hurt this kind of friendship. But it's certainly been on Dustin's mind since he was the one to bring it up to Steve that morning.

"Good idea," Steve says with a smile as he steps up the the counter, he looks at the kids before smiling at the clerk, "okay what's everyone having, let her know".

***

The lights have dimmed and the pre-show has started by the time Eddie and Lucas make their way over to the seats Steve and the kids have saved. Steve hands Lucas his popcorn and soda, sprite and orange crush mixed, as he makes his way over to the empty seat beside Dustin. There is a wide smile on his face, and it startles Steve slightly as he realizes he hasn't seen Lucas with one around Eddie in months.

His heart hurts at the thought.

Eddie drops down beside Steve, blowing out a long slow sigh as he does.

He scrubs a pair of ringed hands over his face roughly before finally relaxing into the shitty theater seat and reaching over to snag a handful of popcorn from Steve's bag, spilling kernels all over the place. 

Steve rolls his eyes and tips the bag closer to Eddie who immediately grabs a second handful.

Eddie is facing the screen, but his eyes are trained on the seat in front of him, the projection illuminates his face in whites, yellows, greens, and blues as the movie begins and Steve can't look away.

He eventually tips his face towards Steve, "You were right," Eddie murmurs before finally taking in the screen as he looks away again. Even though he's sitting nearly boneless and slumped in the seat, his shoulders are tense, upset. 

Guilty.

"I'm glad," Steve whispers, and he is.

The icy feeling of disappointment that held his chest in a tight vice grip all morning finally loosens as he leans into the armrest and feels the warmth of Eddie's shoulder soak into his own.

"Thanks Steve," Eddie whispers, his warm breath ghosting over Steve's ear as leans closer, letting their hands brush in the darkness of the theater.

Steve closes his eyes, and lets himself bask in the warmth, even for just a moment.