#how to captivate blog audience

[mohit-mathur]

How to Keep yourself and other Interested in your Blog

**How to Make Your Blog Irresistibly Interesting: 21 Proven Techniques** “Be interesting.” It’s simple advice, but not always easy to implement. If you want to grow a popular blog, capturing and holding your readers’ attention is crucial. Without it, no one will stick around. But what does it really mean to “be interesting”? Too often, we talk about abstract concepts like differentiation, value,…

[constanthinople]

They're so fucking important to me.

[project-catgirlpillar]

You laugh today but in a 100 years tehy will build a Solid Gold Statue of me in the middle of new york Times square to commemorate my Second rate shitposts about obscure-ish fandoms

[hazelfoureyes]

⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you. 

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task. 

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of  true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love. 

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you. 

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh,  and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you. 

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you. 

His room, fucking hell. 

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-“

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds. 

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened. 

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library. 

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied. 

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button. 

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat. 

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.” 

“You will.” 

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping. 

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!” 

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created. 

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love. 

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.” 

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own. 

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?” 

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh.  “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach. 

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been,  you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.” 

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed. 

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still. 

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen. 

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort. 

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you. 

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy.  It existed purely to please. 

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

 A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming. 

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.” 

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other. 

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat. 

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride. 

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in. 

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in  holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed. 

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

 “Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion. 

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans. 

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased. 

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket,  “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.” 

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room. 

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

[hayatheauthor]

How to Write Relatable Characters: A Writer’s Guide

Relatable characters are the lifeblood of any compelling story. They're the ones readers root for, cry with, and remember long after they've turned the last page. But what exactly makes a character relatable? Why do some characters feel like old friends, while others fall flat? 

In this guide, I’ll walk you through the key elements that contribute to creating characters that resonate with readers on a personal level. From building a strong backstory to crafting authentic dialogue, this blog will equip you with the tools to create vivid, compelling, and believable characters that will captivate your readers and add depth to your narrative.

1. Understanding Relatability

Definition: What Makes a Character Relatable?

A relatable character is one that readers can connect with on a personal level. This connection might stem from shared experiences, emotions, values, or even flaws. Relatability is about creating a character who feels real—someone who could exist in the reader’s world, or even in their own life.

Importance: Why Relatable Characters Matter

Relatable characters are crucial because they engage the reader emotionally. When readers see a piece of themselves in a character, they become invested in that character’s journey. This investment is what drives readers to keep turning pages, eager to see how the character will overcome their challenges or achieve their goals.

Connection to Audience: How Relatability Creates Reader Engagement

Relatability bridges the gap between fiction and reality. When readers connect with a character, they experience the story on a deeper, more personal level. This connection makes the story more memorable and impactful, as readers are more likely to empathize with the character’s struggles and triumphs.

2. Building a Strong Backstory

Personal History: Adding Depth and Relatability

A well-crafted backstory is essential for creating depth in a character. It’s the foundation that shapes who they are, how they think, and how they react to the world around them. A character’s past experiences, upbringing, and the events that shaped their life provide context for their actions and decisions in the story.

Key Elements of a Backstory

Family and Upbringing: The influence of family, culture, and environment on the character’s development.

Past Traumas and Pivotal Events: Significant experiences that have left a lasting impact on the character.

Personal Motivations and Desires: The underlying drives that push the character forward.

Examples of Effective Backstories

Consider Harry Potter’s backstory: growing up as an orphan, mistreated by his aunt and uncle, and discovering he’s a wizard. This backstory not only explains his initial naivety and longing for acceptance but also makes his journey into the wizarding world all the more compelling.

3. Developing Flaws and Imperfections

Humanizing Characters Through Flaws

Perfect characters are boring. Flaws make characters human and relatable. They allow readers to see themselves in the character, imperfections and all. Flaws create tension and conflict, driving the character’s growth and development throughout the story.

Common Character Flaws

Insecurity: A character’s self-doubt can lead to relatable internal conflicts.

Fear: Whether it’s fear of failure, rejection, or the unknown, fear is a powerful motivator.

Pride: Excessive pride can lead to mistakes, making the character’s journey more complex.

Balancing Flaws with Strengths

While flaws are essential, it’s important to balance them with strengths to avoid making the character too unlikeable. A character’s strengths should complement their flaws, creating a well-rounded and realistic individual. For example, a character might be stubborn (a flaw) but also incredibly determined (a strength).

4. Creating Emotional Depth

Internal Conflicts and Emotional Complexity

Relatable characters often face internal struggles that mirror real-life emotions and dilemmas. These internal conflicts add layers to the character, making them more complex and interesting. Readers are drawn to characters who experience a range of emotions, from joy and love to anger and despair.

Techniques for Showing Emotional Journey

Dialogue: Use conversations to reveal a character’s feelings and thoughts.

Internal Monologue: Dive into the character’s mind to explore their inner turmoil.

Actions: Show emotions through the character’s reactions to situations.

Creating Reader Empathy

To create empathy, your character needs to be vulnerable. Show their fears, hopes, and insecurities. Let readers see the character at their lowest points, struggling to overcome challenges. This emotional journey is what will resonate with readers, making them feel invested in the character’s fate.

5. Crafting Authentic Dialogue

Realistic Speech Patterns

Authentic dialogue is crucial for making characters relatable. People don’t always speak in perfect sentences or with flawless grammar. They interrupt, hesitate, and sometimes say the wrong thing. Capturing these nuances in dialogue helps make your characters feel real.

Voice and Tone

Each character should have a unique voice that reflects their personality, background, and emotional state. A character’s tone can convey their attitude, whether they’re sarcastic, serious, or playful. Paying attention to how your characters speak can add depth and authenticity to their interactions.

Dialogue as a Window into Character

Dialogue is a powerful tool for revealing character traits, flaws, and emotions. For example, a character who speaks in short, clipped sentences might be guarded or angry, while one who rambles might be nervous or insecure. Use dialogue to show, rather than tell, what your characters are feeling and thinking.

6. Relating Through Common Experiences

Shared Struggles and Universal Experiences

One of the most effective ways to create relatable characters is by giving them experiences that resonate with readers. These can be universal struggles, such as dealing with loss, searching for identity, or falling in love. When readers see characters going through similar experiences, they’re more likely to connect with them.

Cultural and Social Touchpoints

Characters can also relate to readers through cultural references or social issues. This could be anything from navigating family traditions to dealing with societal expectations. Incorporating these elements into your character’s life can make them more relatable to readers from similar backgrounds.

Examples of Characters Relating Through Shared Experiences

Consider Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice. Her experiences of navigating societal expectations and family pressures are relatable to readers, even centuries after the book was written. Her wit and independence make her a character that many can see themselves in, despite the historical setting.

7. Avoiding Stereotypes and Clichés

Unique Characterization

While some character traits may be common, it’s important to avoid reducing your characters to stereotypes or clichés. Stereotypes can make characters feel one-dimensional and unoriginal. Instead, aim to create characters with unique, multi-faceted personalities that go beyond surface-level traits.

Subverting Expectations

One way to avoid clichés is to subvert reader expectations. For example, instead of making the “tough” character emotionally distant, show their softer side. Or, instead of the “nerdy” character being socially awkward, make them confident and charismatic. Subverting these stereotypes can create more interesting and relatable characters.

Writing Diverse Characters with Authenticity

When writing characters from diverse backgrounds, it’s crucial to do so with respect and authenticity. Avoid relying on stereotypes and instead, research and understand the nuances of the culture, experiences, and perspectives you’re portraying. Diverse characters should be as complex and fully realized as any other character in your story.

8. Giving Characters Agency and Growth

Active vs. Passive Characters

Relatable characters are often those who take control of their own destinies. Active characters make decisions, face consequences, and drive the story forward. On the other hand, passive characters who simply react to events can feel less engaging and relatable.

Character Arcs

A well-developed character arc shows how a character changes over time. This growth can be in response to internal conflicts, external challenges, or both. A character who evolves in a believable way is more likely to resonate with readers.

Growth and Change

Show your character learning from their experiences, whether it’s overcoming a fear, letting go of pride, or learning to trust others. This growth makes characters more dynamic and relatable, as readers witness their journey from start to finish.

9. Testing Relatability: Beta Readers and Feedback

Beta Readers

Beta readers are an invaluable resource for testing the relatability of your characters. They can provide feedback on whether your characters feel authentic and engaging. They can also point out any areas where the character’s actions or dialogue might seem out of place or unrelatable.

Character Surveys

Consider creating character surveys or questionnaires for your beta readers. These can include questions about the character’s likability, believability, and relatability. The feedback you receive can help you refine your characters and ensure they resonate with your audience.

Revisions

Use the feedback from beta readers to make necessary revisions to your characters. This might involve tweaking dialogue, deepening backstory, or adjusting character arcs. Revising with a focus on enhancing relatability can significantly improve the impact of your story.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Quillology with Haya Sameer; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! While you’re at it, don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[niceonet]

TRAİLERDB - DEVASA+ (3)

As we eagerly anticipate upcoming releases, the right trailer can set the tone and build our enthusiasm for what’s to come. In this blog post, we will explore the freshest trailers, giving you a sneak peek into the films and TV series that are about to hit screens near you. From highly anticipated films to captivating TV series trailers, we’ve got you covered with all the essentials. 

Latest Trailers

When it comes to keeping up with the ever-evolving world of entertainment, latest trailers play a significant role in generating buzz and excitement among fans. Every week, we are treated to a flurry of new previews that showcase the hottest upcoming films and series. Here’s a look at some of the most anticipated releases that you should keep an eye on.

One of the most talked-about latest trailers features the action-packed return of a beloved franchise. With stunning visuals and gripping storytelling, this trailer leaves us eager for the release date. The combination of stellar performances and a captivating soundtrack promises an exhilarating cinematic experience.

In the realm of animation, the latest offerings are equally impressive. The trailers highlight vibrant animation styles and heartwarming narratives that are sure to attract audiences of all ages. From family-friendly adventures to more mature themes, the latest trailers in animation showcase the diversity and creativity in storytelling.

Furthermore, the world of streaming platforms is overflowing with exciting latest trailers. With platforms like Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime constantly releasing fresh content, viewers are treated to an array of genres, from gripping thrillers to heartfelt dramas. These trailers give a sneak peek into the rich storytelling and character development that we can look forward to.

Don’t forget that latest trailers also provide insights into upcoming TV series. Whether it’s a highly-anticipated season continuation or a brand-new concept, these previews are designed to engage fans and keep them coming back for more. Expect to see dramatic cliffhangers and intriguing character arcs that will undoubtedly spark discussions among viewers.

In conclusion, latest trailers serve as a window into the captivating stories that lie ahead. They not only excite fans but also shape our expectations of what’s to come in theaters and on screen. Stay tuned for more updates, as there are always more incredible trailers on the horizon!

Tv Series Trailer

In the world of entertainment, the TV series trailer serves as a pivotal tool for enticing audiences and generating excitement. With the rise of streaming platforms, the competition for viewers' attention has intensified, making trailers more crucial than ever.

One of the primary functions of a TV series trailer is to provide a glimpse into the show's storyline, characters, and overall tone. A well-crafted trailer can evoke emotions, build suspense, and leave viewers eager for more. For instance, trailers for popular series often highlight key moments, thrilling action sequences, and dramatic cliffhangers that captivate audiences.

Moreover, the editing style of a TV series trailer significantly influences its impact. Fast cuts, captivating visuals, and a powerful soundtrack can enhance the excitement and engagement level. As a result, viewers are more likely to share these trailers on social media, amplifying their reach and generating buzz.

In recent years, we've seen a shift in how trailers are released. Many production companies now opt for teaser trailers, followed by full-length versions. This strategy keeps fans engaged over a longer period, as each release builds anticipation for the show's premiere.

As viewers have become more discerning, trailers have evolved to include more diverse storytelling elements. Today’s trailers often reflect the complexity of characters and intertwine various plotlines. This trend allows audiences to connect more deeply with the series before they even watch an episode.

An important aspect to consider is the impact of TV series trailers on the show's marketing strategy. They often serve as a crucial element in the overall promotional mix, alongside posters, interviews, and social media campaigns. A strong trailer can significantly boost a series' visibility and attract a broader audience.

In conclusion, TV series trailers are not just promotional tools; they are artistic creations that encapsulate the essence of a show. As the landscape of television continues to evolve, the role of trailers in shaping viewers' perceptions will undoubtedly remain significant.

Trailer DB

Welcome to the your ultimate source for all things related to movie and TV trailers. In today’s digital age, where visual content reigns supreme, trailers play a crucial role in building excitement and anticipation for upcoming entertainment releases. This is where the Trailer DB comes into play, providing you with a comprehensive database of the latest trailers.

The Trailer DB is designed to cater to the needs of film enthusiasts and TV series fans alike. Here, you can discover latest trailers from various genres, ranging from action-packed blockbusters to heartwarming dramas. Whether you’re on the hunt for the upcoming superhero films or the hottest new TV series, the Trailer DB ensures you stay updated on the most recent releases.

One of the standout features of the Trailer DB is its user-friendly interface, which allows easy navigation to find trailers by categories, release dates, or popularity. With an extensive collection of trailers, you can quickly access both local and international titles, ensuring you never miss out on any cinematic gems or trending shows.

Moreover, the Trailer DB is continuously updated with the latest content, offering sneak peeks of highly anticipated films and series. From thrilling horror releases to delightful romantic comedies, there’s something for everyone. Each trailer is accompanied by essential information including release dates, cast details, and directorial credits, allowing viewers to dive deeper into the projects that catch their eye.

Join the community of film buffs and series aficionados today by exploring the Trailer DB. Embrace the excitement of new releases and share your thoughts on the latest trailers with fellow enthusiasts. With our extensive database at your fingertips, you’ll always be in the know about the best upcoming entertainment!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Prison-tech is a scam - and a harbinger of your future

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Here's how the shitty technology adoption curve works: when you want to roll out a new, abusive technology, look for a group of vulnerable people whose complaints are roundly ignored and subject them to your bad idea. Sand the rough edges off on their bodies and lives. Normalize the technological abuse you seek to inflict.

Next: work your way up the privilege gradient. Maybe you start with prisoners, then work your way up to asylum seekers, parolees and mental patients. Then try it on kids and gig workers. Now, college students and blue collar workers. Climb that curve, bit by bit, until you've reached its apex and everyone is living with your shitty technology:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Prisoners, asylum seekers, drug addicts and other marginalized people are the involuntary early adopters of every form of disciplinary technology. They are the leading indicators of the ways that technology will be ruining your life in the future. They are the harbingers of all our technological doom.

Which brings me to Minnesota.

Minnesota is one of the first states make prison phone-calls free. This is a big deal, because prison phone-calls are a big business. Prisoners are literally a captive audience, and the telecommunications sector is populated by sociopaths, bred and trained to spot and exploit abusive monopoly opportunities. As states across America locked up more and more people for longer and longer terms, the cost of operating prisons skyrocketed, even as states slashed taxes on the rich and turned a blind eye to tax evasion.

This presented telco predators with an unbeatable opportunity: they approached state prison operators and offered them a bargain: "Let us take over the telephone service to your carceral facility and we will levy eye-watering per-minute charges on the most desperate people in the world. Their families – struggling with one breadwinner behind bars – will find the money to pay this ransom, and we'll split the profits with you, the cash-strapped, incarceration-happy state government."

This was the opening salvo, and it turned into a fantastic little money-spinner. Prison telco companies and state prison operators were the public-private partnership from hell. Prison-tech companies openly funneled money to state coffers in the form of kickbacks, even as they secretly bribed prison officials to let them gouge their inmates and inmates' families:

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2019/02/mississippi-corrections-corruption-bribery-private-prison-hustle/

As digital technology got cheaper and prison-tech companies got greedier, the low end of the shitty tech adoption curve got a lot more crowded. Prison-tech companies started handing out "free" cheap Android tablets to prisoners, laying the groundwork for the next phase of the scam. Once prisoners had tablets, prisons could get rid of phones altogether and charge prisoners – and their families – even higher rates to place calls right to the prisoner's cell.

Then, prisons could end in-person visits and replace them with sub-skype, postage-stamp-sized videoconferencing, at rates even higher than the voice-call rates. Combine that with a ban on mailing letters to and from prisoners – replaced with a service that charged even higher rates to scan mail sent to prisoners, and then charged prisoners to download the scans – and prison-tech companies could claim to be at the vanguard of prison safety, ending the smuggling of dope-impregnated letters and other contraband into the prison system.

Prison-tech invented some wild shit, like the "digital stamp," a mainstay of industry giant Jpay, which requires prisoners to pay for "stamps" to send or receive a "page" of email. If you're keeping score, you've realized that this is a system where prisoners and their families have to pay for calls, "in-person" visits, handwritten letters, and email.

It goes on: prisons shuttered their libraries and replaced them with ebook stores that charged 2-4 times the prices you'd pay for books on the outside. Prisoners were sold digital music at 200-300% markups relative to, say, iTunes.

Remember, these are prisoners: locked up for years or decades, decades during which their families scraped by with a breadwinner behind bars. Prisoners can earn money, sure – as much as $0.89/hour, doing forced labor for companies that contract with prisons for their workforce:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2017/04/10/wages/

Of course, there's the odd chance for prisoners to make really big bucks – $2-5/day. All they have to do is "volunteer" to fight raging wildfires:

https://www.hcn.org/articles/climate-desk-wildfire-california-incarcerated-firefighters-face-dangerous-work-low-pay-and-covid19/

So those $3 digital music tracks are being bought by people earning as little as $0.10/hour. Which makes it especially galling when prisons change prison-tech suppliers, whereupon all that digital music is deleted, wiping prisoners' media collection out – forever (literally, for prisoners serving life terms):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/08/captive-audience-how-floridas-prisons-and-drm-made-113m-worth-prisoners-music

Let's recap: America goes on a prison rampage, locking up ever-larger numbers of people for ever-longer sentences. Once inside, prisoners had their access to friends and family rationed, along with access to books, music, education and communities outside. This is very bad for prisoners – strong ties to people outside is closely tied to successful reentry – but it's great for state budgets, and for wardens, thanks to kickbacks:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2021/12/21/family_contact/

Back to Minnesota: when Minnesota became the fourth state in the USA where the state, not prisoners, would pay for prison calls, it seemed like they were finally breaking the vicious cycle in which every dollar ripped off of prisoners' family paid 40 cents to the state treasury:

https://www.kaaltv.com/news/no-cost-phone-calls-for-those-incarcerated-in-minnesota/

But – as Katya Schwenk writes for The Lever – what happened next is "a case study in how prison communication companies and their private equity owners have managed to preserve their symbiotic relationship with state corrections agencies despite reforms — at the major expense of incarcerated people and their families":

https://www.levernews.com/wall-streets-new-prison-scam/

Immediately after the state ended the ransoming of prisoners' phone calls, the private-equity backed prison-tech companies that had dug their mouth-parts into the state's prison jacked up the price of all their other digital services. For example, the price of a digital song in a Minnesota prison just jumped from $1.99 to $2.36 (for prisoners earning as little as $0.25/hour).

As Paul Wright from the Human Rights Defense Center told Schwenk, "The ideal world for the private equity owners of these companies is every prisoner has one of their tablets, and every one of those tablets is hooked up to the bank account of someone outside of prison that they can just drain."

The state's new prison-tech supplier promises to double the amount of kickbacks it pays the state each year, thanks to an aggressive expansion into games, money transfers, and other "services." The perverse incentive isn't hard to spot: the more these prison-tech companies charge, the more kickbacks they pay to the prisons.

The primary prison-tech company for Minnesota's prisons is Viapath (nee Global Tel Link), which pioneered price-gouging on in-prison phone calls. Viapath has spent the past two decades being bought and sold by different private equity firms: Goldman Sachs, Veritas Capital, and now the $46b/year American Securities.

Viapath competes with another private equity-backed prison-tech giant: Aventiv (Securus, Jpay), owned by Platinum Equity. Together, Viapath and Aventiv control 90% of the prison-tech market. These companies have a rap-sheet as long as your arm: bribing wardens, stealing from prisoners and their families, and recording prisoner-attorney calls. But these are the kinds of crimes the state punishes with fines and settlements – not by terminating its contracts with these predators.

These companies continue to flout the law. Minnesota's new free-calls system bans prison-tech companies from paying kickbacks to prisons and prison-officials for telcoms services, so the prison-tech companies have rebranded ebooks, music, and money-transfers as non-communications products, and the kickbacks are bigger than ever.

This is the bottom end of the shitty technology adoption curve. Long before Ubisoft started deleting games that you'd bought a "perpetual license" for, prisoners were having their media ganked by an uncaring corporation that knew it was untouchable:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

Revoking your media, charging by the byte for messaging, confiscating things in the name of security and then selling them back to you – these are all tactics that were developed in the prison system, refined, normalized, and then worked up the privilege gradient. Prisoners are living in your technology future. It's just not evenly distributed – yet.

As it happens, prison-tech is at the heart of my next novel, The Bezzle, which comes out on Feb 20. This is a followup to last year's bestselling Red Team Blues, which introduced the world to Marty Hench, a two-fisted, hard-bitten, high-tech forensic accountant who's spent 40 years busting Silicon Valley finance scams:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

In The Bezzle, we travel with Marty back to the mid 2000s (Hench is a kind of tech-scam Zelig and every book is a standalone tale of high-tech ripoffs from a different time and place). Marty's trying to help his old pal Scott Warms, a once-high-flying founder who's fallen prey to California's three-strikes law and is now facing decades in a state pen. As bad as things are, they get worse when the prison starts handing out "free" tablet and closing down the visitation room, the library, and the payphones.

This is an entry to the thing I love most about the Hench novels: the opportunity to turn all this dry, financial skullduggery into high-intensity, high-stakes technothriller plot. For me, Marty Hench is a tool for flensing the scam economy of all its layers of respectability bullshit and exposing the rot at the core.

It's not a coincidence that I've got a book coming out in a week that's about something that's in the news right now. I didn't "predict" this current turn – I observed it. The world comes at you fast and technology news flutters past before you can register it. Luckily, I have a method for capturing this stuff as it happens:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Writing about tech issues that are long-simmering but still in the periphery is a technique I call "predicting the present." It's the technique I used when I wrote Little Brother, about out-of-control state surveillance of the internet. When Snowden revealed the extent of NSA spying in 2013, people acted as though I'd "predicted" the Snowden revelations:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-writing-radicalized-young-hackers-now-he-wants-to-redeem-them/

But Little Brother and Snowden's own heroic decision have a common origin: the brave whistleblower Mark Klein, who walked into EFF's offices in 2006 and revealed that he'd been ordered by his boss at AT&T to install a beam-splitter into the main fiber trunk so that the NSA could illegally wiretap the entire internet:

https://www.eff.org/document/public-unredacted-klein-declaration

Mark Klein inspired me to write Little Brother – but despite national press attention, the Klein revelations didn't put a stop to NSA spying. The NSA was still conducting its lawless surveillance campaign in 2013, when Snowden, disgusted with NSA leadership for lying to Congress under oath, decided to blow the whistle again:

https://apnews.com/article/business-33a88feb083ea35515de3c73e3d854ad

The assumption that let the NSA get away with mass surveillance was that it would only be weaponized against the people at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve: brown people, mostly in other countries. The Snowden revelations made it clear that these were just the beginning, and sure enough, more than a decade later, we have data-brokers sucking up billions in cop kickbacks to enable warrantless surveillance, while virtually following people to abortion clinics, churches, and protests. Mass surveillance is chugging its way up the shitty tech adoption curve with no sign of stopping.

Like Little Brother, The Bezzle is intended as a kind of virtual flythrough of what life is like further down on that curve – a way for readers who have too much agency to be in the crosshairs of a company like Viapath or Avently right now to wake up before that kind of technology comes for them, and to inspire them to take up the cause of the people further down the curve who are mired in it.

The Bezzle is an intense book, but it's also a very fun story – just like Little Brother. It's a book that lays bare the internal technical workings of so many scams, from multi-level marketing to real-estate investment trusts, from music royalty theft to prison-tech, in the course of an ice-cold revenge plot that keeps twisting to the very last page.

It'll drop in six days. I hope you'll check it out:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Mastering the Art of Plotting a Well-Paced Novel

In this post, I'll delve into the essential skill of pacing, and explore how pacing can make or break your novel. By understanding the impact of pacing on your story's flow and tension, you will be able to create a well-paced narrative that keeps readers engaged and turning the pages. I'll be unlocking the secrets of pacing and learn how to master the art of plotting a well-paced novel.

Pacing is a critical element in storytelling that determines the speed and rhythm at which events unfold in your novel. It encompasses the tempo, timing, and sequencing of scenes, dialogue, and action. Proper pacing ensures that your story moves along smoothly, building suspense and maintaining readers' interest.

Imagine

Imagine reading a book where everything happens at a breakneck pace, with no time to pause and absorb the crucial moments. Alternatively, consider a book where the plot drags on, leaving readers disengaged and tempted to put the book down. Both scenarios highlight the importance of pacing.

For aspiring writers and authors, mastering the art of pacing is key to creating a captivating story that resonates with readers. It involves skillfully balancing action scenes with quieter moments, strategically revealing information, and strategically varying the pace to maintain tension and anticipation.

Throughout this blog post, I'll help you explore various techniques, tips, and strategies to help you unlock the secrets of pacing and plot a well-paced novel. Whether you're just starting your writing journey or looking to refine your storytelling skills, this guide will provide you with valuable insights and practical advice to help you develop a story that keeps readers hooked from beginning to end. So, let's dive in and uncover the mysteries of pacing.

Setting the Stage: The Power of Pacing

Pacing is the rhythm and tempo at which your story unfolds. It's like music for your reader's mind, setting the tone and guiding their emotions. It determines the speed at which events occur and plays a crucial role in maintaining reader interest. Think of pacing as the heartbeat of your novel, keeping your audience eagerly turning the pages.

But why is pacing so important in storytelling? Well, imagine reading a book where nothing exciting ever happens, or one where everything is rushed and there's no time to breathe. It's like having a roller coaster with no thrilling drops or a movie without any suspenseful moments. Pacing is what keeps your readers engaged and invested in your story.

One of the key aspects of pacing is its ability to increase tension. By carefully controlling the speed at which events unfold, you can build anticipation and leave your readers on the edge of their seats. Whether it's a nail-biting chase scene or a climactic confrontation, pacing can make these moments all the more exhilarating.

Pacing also allows for crucial moments to be savored. It gives your readers the chance to fully immerse themselves in the emotions and details that matter. By slowing down during these pivotal scenes, you can create a deeper connection between your characters and your audience, making the experience more impactful.

Additionally, pacing can be used to maintain tension throughout your story, even during quieter moments. By varying the speed of your narrative, you can keep your readers engaged and curious about what's to come. This ebb and flow of tension will keep them hooked from start to finish.

So, by understanding the power of pacing, you will be equipped to create a well-paced novel that captivates your readers. Stay tuned as we dive deeper into specific techniques for creating suspense and savoring crucial moments in the upcoming sections. Your journey to mastering the art of plotting a well-paced novel starts here!

Speeding Things Up: Techniques for Creating Suspense

Suspense is a powerful tool for keeping readers on the edge of their seats. As a writer, you have the ability to control the pace of your novel and create nail-biting suspense that will captivate your readers. In this section, we will explore techniques for speeding up the pace of your story and intensifying the suspense.

One effective technique is to use short, snappy sentences. By keeping your sentences concise and to the point, you can create a sense of urgency and make the action feel more immediate. This will keep your readers engaged and eager to find out what happens next.

Another technique to consider is the use of cliffhangers. Ending a chapter or section with a cliffhanger leaves your readers hanging and desperate to know what happens next. This can be achieved by introducing a sudden twist, revealing a shocking secret, or leaving a crucial question unanswered. The suspense created by these cliffhangers will keep your readers turning the pages.

Plot twists are also a great way to speed up the pace and create suspense. By introducing unexpected turns of events, you can keep your readers guessing and on the edge of their seats. These twists can be major revelations or small surprises that add intrigue to your story.

Lastly, foreshadowing is a technique that can heighten anticipation and create suspense. By dropping subtle hints or clues about future events, you can build tension and make your readers eager to uncover the truth. Foreshadowing can be done through dialogue, descriptions, or even symbolic elements in your story.

By mastering these techniques, you will be able to weave a thrilling narrative that keeps readers hooked from the first page to the last. So, grab your pen and get ready to speed up the pace of your novel, creating suspense that will leave your readers breathless.

Slowing Down: Savoring Crucial Moments

While it's important to maintain a fast pace in your novel, it's equally crucial to slow down and allow readers to savor crucial moments. These are the scenes that make your story come alive, the moments that leave a lasting impact on your readers. By creating breathing room in your narrative, you give readers the opportunity to fully immerse themselves in poignant scenes and important character development.

One effective way to slow down the pace is through the use of vivid descriptions. Paint a picture with your words, allowing readers to see, hear, smell, and feel the world you've created. By providing rich sensory details, you transport your readers into the heart of the scene, making it more memorable and engaging.

Internal monologues are another powerful tool for slowing down the pace. These moments of introspection allow readers to delve deeper into your characters' thoughts and emotions. By revealing their innermost desires, fears, and conflicts, you add depth and complexity to your story.

Reflective moments also play a crucial role in savoring crucial moments. These are the pauses in the action where characters contemplate their choices, reflect on their past, or ponder the future. These moments of introspection not only add depth and texture to your story but also give readers a chance to connect with your characters on a deeper level.

By finding the right balance between fast-paced action and slower, introspective scenes, you will create a well-rounded narrative that captivates readers on multiple levels. So, take the time to slow down and savor those crucial moments in your novel. Your readers will thank you for it.

The Art of Variation: Maintaining Tension Through Pacing

In this section, we will dive deeper into the art of variation in pacing and how it can maintain tension throughout your novel. As a writer, it's crucial to understand that pacing is not just about maintaining a consistent speed throughout your story. It's about strategically alternating between faster and slower-paced scenes to create a rollercoaster effect that keeps readers engaged and guessing.

By varying the pace of your narrative, you can effectively build and release tension, keeping readers on the edge of their seats. Faster-paced scenes filled with action, suspense, and conflict propel the story forward, while slower-paced scenes allow for character development, introspection, and reflection. This ebb and flow of pacing creates a dynamic reading experience that captivates your audience.

Strategic placement of high-intensity scenes is also key to maintaining tension. These scenes should be strategically scattered throughout your novel, serving as climactic moments that heighten the stakes and keep readers invested. However, it's equally important to provide moments of respite, where the pace slows down, allowing readers to catch their breath and process the events unfolding.

By mastering the art of variation in pacing, you can create a well-paced novel that holds readers' attention from start to finish. So, as you plot your story, remember to carefully consider the pacing of each scene, alternating between faster and slower moments, strategically placing high-intensity scenes, and providing moments of respite. This will ensure that your readers are taken on a thrilling and immersive journey through your narrative.

Beyond Words: Enhancing Mood and Atmosphere

Pacing is not just about the words on the page; it has the power to enhance the mood and atmosphere of your narrative. By understanding how the speed of pacing can influence the reader's emotional experience, you can take your storytelling to the next level.

One technique for using pacing to set the tone is to vary the speed of your narrative. By slowing down during introspective moments or important scenes, you can create a sense of depth and allow readers to fully immerse themselves in the atmosphere you're trying to convey. On the other hand, speeding up the pacing during action-packed sequences can generate excitement and keep readers on the edge of their seats.

Pacing can also be used to create tension. By gradually increasing the speed of your narrative, you can build anticipation and make readers feel a sense of urgency. Conversely, slowing down the pacing can create a sense of unease or suspense, leaving readers hanging on every word.

Furthermore, pacing can evoke specific emotions. By carefully choosing the speed at which events unfold, you can elicit feelings of joy, sadness, fear, or even nostalgia. Experimenting with pacing as a tool to guide readers through important plot points and evoke desired emotional responses will add depth and richness to your storytelling.

Remember, pacing goes beyond words. By mastering the art of pacing, you can enhance the mood and atmosphere of your novel, captivating readers and keeping them engaged from beginning to end.

Plotting with Purpose: Pacing and Story Structure

Pacing is not just about speed; it's also about structuring your story in a way that keeps readers hooked. In this section, we will delve into how pacing works hand in hand with story structure. We will explore how to strategically escalate and release tension, ramping up the pace during pivotal moments and allowing for quieter moments of reflection. By aligning your story structure with the pacing of your novel, you will create a cohesive and engaging reading experience that leaves a lasting impact on your audience.

To plot with purpose, it's important to understand the relationship between pacing and story structure. Your story structure provides the framework for your plot, while pacing determines the rhythm and tempo of your narrative. By carefully crafting your story structure, you can strategically place high-tension moments and slower-paced scenes to create a dynamic reading experience.

Consider the rising action, climax, and resolution of your story. These key plot points should align with the pacing of your novel. As you approach the climax, the pace should quicken, building tension and excitement. This is the moment where readers are on the edge of their seats, eagerly turning pages to find out what happens next. After the climax, the pace can gradually slow down, allowing for reflection and resolution.

By understanding the relationship between pacing and story structure, you can create a well-paced novel that keeps readers engaged from beginning to end. So, as you plot your own story, remember to consider the purpose behind each scene and how it contributes to the overall pacing of your narrative.

Conclusion

Mastering the art of pacing is a journey that requires practice and experimentation. As a writer, you have the power to control the ebb and flow of your story, guiding readers through a rollercoaster of emotions and keeping them engaged until the very end.

By understanding the impact of pacing on your story's flow, tension, and emotional resonance, you will be able to create a well-paced novel that keeps readers hooked from start to finish. Whether you choose to speed things up to create suspense or slow down to savor crucial moments, pacing is a tool that can enhance the overall reading experience.

Remember, pacing is not just about the speed of your story. It's about finding the right balance, the perfect rhythm that suits your narrative. Experiment with different techniques, play with the pacing of your scenes, and pay attention to how it affects the overall structure and tension of your novel.

So go ahead and unlock the secrets of pacing, and embark on the exhilarating adventure of plotting a well-paced novel that captivates readers and leaves a lasting impression. Happy writing!

[yoonia]

writing tips & tricks — a compilation of my writing steps and other tricks that you can follow

my overall writing process

my writing steps (a condense version)

how to build up your idea into a rough outline (first step writing)

how I build my storyboard (second step writing)

how to build a story and create a realistic character (third step writing)

my editing process (final step writing)

tips on writing smut scenes and making them interesting

deciding to add a smut scene

how to work on long-chaptered series

getting out of writer's block

developing a story and world-building

finding and deciding the right audience for your story

creating story/fic banners

how to decide the right posting schedule for your audience

starting up a writing blog

adding a writing progress page on your blog

how to improve your writing as a beginner

how to balance out writing multiple WIPs

— more helpful tips that I've found to be my favourite:

becoming an interesting writer

how to find YOUR writing process

writing (captivating) first lines

getting over your writing slump

best writing tips

chapter breaks (in writing series)

punctuating dialogue

tips on writing smut scenes

how to write emotions

how to make your writing sound less stiff (1)

how to make your writing sound less stiff (2)

list of mannerisms

write smarter, not harder

note: I'll be adding more to this list if there's anything new in the future. I also compile posts with more tips and tricks in writing on my side blog which you can follow at : @dia-writes

[andi-kook]

DEAD KIDS ✦ Chapter 2

SUMMARY: A group of university students kidnaps their rich batchmate for ransom. However, things take a darker turn when the new recruit grows a dangerous obsession with the captive and all hell breaks loose.

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Slow burn Yandere, Crime AU

WARNINGS: Not suitable for audiences below 18. Please do not engage with the story if you are underage. WATCH OUT FOR: dark and morally corrupt characters, foul language, mention of Catholicism, slut shaming and objectification of women, mention of inappropriate relationship between professor/student, mentions and depiction of “rape” and “rape fantasy” throughout the story, masturbation, threats, MC has an NSFW blog with hard kinks and fantasies, non consensual touching. Overall, this is a disturbing chapter – based on my standards – so if you are not comfortable with these topics, do not proceed. Inspired by the film, Dead Kids (2019).

TAGLIST: @hopeworldsupremacy @aliajomarie011 @ackercute @tatumrileyslover @ane102 @jjk174 @dontcallmeelle @merrygo1427 @taekritimin123 @r1r111 @gguksfilter @coralmusicblaze

If I didn’t tag you – either your blog doesn’t exist according to Tumblr or because you did not show your age in your blog. Thank you!

ANDI: I send my love to the beautiful souls who sent me asks about Dead Kids as well as these equally beautiful souls – @.taekritimin123 @.hellbornsworld @.tinytangerineangel @.namjesusdaughter – for commenting on Chapter 1. I cannot express just how much I appreciate your words. I would have tagged you directly, but I wasn’t sure if you would want that. But I wanted to show my appreciation.

WORD COUNT: 3K

“Why did you really want to take her?” Jungkook asks Namjoon as they sit and eat the ramen he cooked around the living area. Beside him, Yoongi and Hoseok are fast asleep, the latter clutching onto the former’s arm like it’s his plushie while the former has his head thrown against the headrest.

Namjoon, who is seated on the other makeshift sofa, gulps down the soup from his ramen before letting out a satisfied sigh and wipes his mouth with the back of his mouth. “How many times do we have to say that we kidnapped Y/N for ransom?”

“I’m not stupid, Namjoon,” Jungkook says. “We’re already tied to this shit until the ransom drop. The least you can do is be upfront on why you did this in the first place. I’m not taking a bullet for you or anyone.”

The buzz-cut haired man leans his back against the sofa, which unlike his premium one, is built from scratch by Jungkook using old wood and cases of beers around the warehouse. He gazes at Jungkook for a while, studying him while swimming in his own thoughts. The tattooed man wonders if Namjoon is contemplating telling him the truth. He wonders if the two sleeping men beside him also knew the truth.

They claim to have been friends since the fourth grade, but does time really make you know a person inside out?

“My father didn’t used to be the way he is now – corrupt. Growing up, I looked up to him because of how honest and upstanding he was as a cop. I knew he did some off-the-books shit, but he still had a moral compass, still had lines he didn’t cross. But then he met Y/N’s father, Kim Seokjin, when I was ten. Suddenly, everything changed,” Namjoon narrates, letting out a scoff as he shakes his head and rubs his palms on his baggy jeans. “He went from being a great husband and father to my mother and I to a complete asshole. We didn’t have religion but after meeting Kim Seokjin, we were suddenly Catholics, attending church with his family every Sunday. I was baptized and Kim Seokjin became my godfather. But the worst part was seeing him erase all the lines he drew and swore never to cross when he began to use his position as a detective and then eventually sergeant to now the chief of the entire police force in Seoul to protect Kim Seokjin and his criminal empire.”

Jungkook inhales deeply. “So, kidnapping Y/N is you taking on revenge against Kim Seokjin for corrupting your father? It is personal. It’s never about the money?”

“Of course, the money is important and integral to the plan. But yes, you are correct – I want to avenge my father from Kim Seokjin by hitting him where I know it will hurt the most: his only daughter, Y/N.”

“You promised that we are not going to hurt her,” Jungkook counters immediately.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “If you do that – what makes you different than Kim Seokjin?”

“Why are you so protective of her?” Namjoon asks pointedly. “What? Just because she gave you a boner, you’re suddenly fucking in love with her? Don’t think I didn’t notice. We all did. Yoongi is right – drop the morally upright act, Jeon. You’re just as demented as we are. The moment you agreed to this plan, you’re just as fucked up.”

The sudden call out makes Jungkook turn crimson and Namjoon smirks, placing his leg over the other. “Don’t worry – unlike you, I don’t judge people. To each our own. If shit like that turns you on, then that’s on you. Why don’t you take the opportunity to act on it?”

His eyes widen, shocked and disgusted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jungkook knows exactly what Namjoon is talking about, but he is completely aghast at the insinuation.

The de facto leader only widens his smirk, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from the front pocket of his large, oversized coat. “You know what I’m talking about, Jeon. A pretty naked girl tied to a chair in your warehouse – it’s perfectly normal to feel aroused by such sight. We won’t judge you if you just get it over and done with.”

“You’re more than fucked up,” Jungkook hisses, face flushed and veins popping out on his neck. “I’m not going to fucking touch her.”

Namjoon lights the cigarette in between his lips. Then, he inhales, and smoke leaves his lips as he replies, “Why not? Y/N is a dirty slut who fucks her married professor with kids her age after church and dinner every Sunday night and more – I bet you all my cut that she’s not going to resist you because she’s probably into fucking someone having their own way with her. No, in fact, I can tell you she’s going to enjoy it.”  

Jungkook feels hot. Images of your naked trembling body and whimpering pleas filling his mind and ears.

“She has a blog, you know? A secret blog where she writes these fantasies and kinks she has. Posts her nudes on there too. Do you wanna know what is one fantasy she keeps on writing about?”

“No, I really don’t,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth.

“It’s a rape fantasy, Jungkook. What a fucking dirty slut she is, right? I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

He stands up in a jolt, hitting his knee on the makeshift table he made from old tires and steel roof and stammering some excuse that he needs to go the bathroom or air – he can’t remember. Jungkook finds himself in his room, back pressed against the door. His shirt sticks to his skin because of the sweat, and he takes it off, leaving it discarded on the floor. Namjoon’s words mixed with the flashing images of your perky nipples, smooth skin, sound of your whimpers, pleas, your smell – it makes him hard. Harder than he’s ever been.

Before he knows it, Jungkook is unbuttoning his jeans, pulling it down along with his boxers, his erection springing free. He spits on his palm before he begins stroking his length, shuddering at the touch, making his mouth dry. He presses the back of his head against the door, eyes closed as he imagines you on your knees – like you were with the professor – those lips around his shaft, head bobbing as you suck him dry. He imagines hearing your moans, imagines his dick hitting the back of your throat as you go deeper and beg him to fuck your mouth like a whore. Jungkook’s stroking himself faster. He imagines hearing you gag as he fucks your mouth, not stopping even when you’re clearly suffocating. Then, he cums, toes curling and a guttural groan escaping his lips.

As he comes back from his high, Jungkook stares at the white sticky substance covering his hand and cock. He just jerked off to you, a girl they kidnapped, and he knows it won’t be the last time.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yoongi hisses at him the moment he comes back from his room, showered and changed into more comfortable clothes.

Jungkook deliberately ignores the stare of Namjoon and flops on the seat beside Hoseok who is eating the remaining ramen. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“I’m going to punch this kid, I swear to God,” Yoongi grumbles, rolling his eyes. “We’re making the ransom call, you dumb fuck. Or rather, you are.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “What? Why me?”

“Every one of us here has already encountered Y/N’s father at least once. The man remembers everyone he encounters. You’re the only exception,” Namjoon explains as he hands you a black phone. “It’s a burner phone, untraceable. I took it from my dad. And this is what you’re going to say – make sure you sound intimidating at least. Put it on speaker too.”

Namjoon places his phone on the makeshift table and Jungkook clicks his tongue. “The deal was you only use my warehouse. So far, you got me doing far more than that.”

“Do you want 25 million or not?” Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Cos if you do, you better start calling Kim Seokjin.”

I’m going to punch you soon, Jungkook tells himself before he unlocks the phone and goes to the contact list where Kim Seokjin’s name is the only one listed. He takes a deep breath, going over the script on Namjoon’s phone before clicking on the contact and putting the call on speaker. The ringing sound echoes throughout the warehouse. The tension is palpable again, like it was back in the car earlier that night.

After a few more rings, Kim Seokjin’s voice fills the warehouse. It’s light but a hint of roughness and irritation is noticeable right away.

“Who is this?”

Jungkook licks his lips as he read the script in front of him. “We have your daughter. If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 million won and bring it to 2020 this Friday night. Otherwise, the next time you’ll see her is on the news, dead.”

Hoseok covers his mouth to keep himself from laughing while Yoongi stares hard at the phone. Namjoon, on the other hand, is relaxed on his seat, smoking.

“You sound young, boy,” Seokjin remarks. “You are not the first person to call me in the middle of the night asking for ransom. Do you really have any idea what you’re doing?”

Namjoon motions for him to repeat what he just said.

“If you want to see her alive, prepare 100 mill—,”

“Don’t you think I would be able to find my daughter faster than you could ever imagine? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

That triggers Jungkook. He’s been hearing that question – that discrimination his entire life and he’s sick of it. He’s fucking sick of it.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are. Either you give us 100 million in exchange for your whore of a daughter or I will personally make you watch as we do everything we want with her, make you watch as she begs you to make it stop, make you listen as she takes her last breath before I fucking slit her throat so deep her head nearly decapitates. You have until Friday night – and you better make sure the police don’t get involved. Don’t fucking ask me who the fuck you are again.”

He ends the call, gripping the phone tightly.

“What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn’t you stick to the script?! Are you trying to get us all a one way ticket to prison?!” Yoongi exclaims.

“Did you not hear what he’s saying? He caught on that we are fucking amateurs. I saved our asses – you should be fucking grateful,” Jungkook snaps, clenching his jaw. “If you didn’t want me to do the call, maybe the three of you should have done it yourselves. Fucking useless bastards.”

“Hey! What did you say?” Hoseok stands, pushing Jungkook by placing his hands on his chest. “Who are you calling useless, huh?”

“Who do you think?” He scoffs.

“Let’s fucking kill this son of a bitch, Hobi.”

“Gladly.”

“Enough,” Namjoon says sternly. “No one is going to kill anyone. Not amongst ourselves. What Jungkook did is right, Yoongi. Jungkook saved our asses. And you,” He turns to the long-haired man, glaring at him. “Mind your fucking tone and language with us. We’re not fucking useless. Remember that we recruited you. Not the other way around. If anyone should be grateful to someone, it’s you. We’re the reason you’ll get out of this shit hole.”

Nobody says a word.

“It’s getting late. Let’s gather here tomorrow after our classes. Just go about your usual days until the drop. Don’t be suspicious,” The de facto leader reminds. “Jungkook, keep an eye out, okay? Don’t forget to check in on our little friend from time to time. Make sure she’s still breathing.” He smirks as he pats his shoulder on his way out.

Yoongi and Hoseok follow suit. Once Jungkook hears Namjoon driving off his – rather his aunt’s – property, he resigns to the sofa behind him. He buries his face into his hands. Five days. You’ll be stuck with him at the warehouse for five fucking days. Granted, he has classes to attend to, so he won’t be at home all day, but he’s sure you won’t leave his mind wherever he goes.

The phone in his hand buzzes and he stares at the new notification on the screen – a text message from an unknown number. Jungkook unlocks the phone, goes to the messaging app, and clicks on the new text.

avirgins1ut on tumblr if you wanna read some things tonight

“Fuck you, Namjoon,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. However, when he goes to his room, grabs his shitty phone and opens his data – he installs the app despite knowing it will consume almost all the remaining gigabytes he has left.

Jungkook lies down on his bed and creates his profile. He doesn’t bother customizing it, going straight to your blog which is all black and hot pink. Instantly, he’s drawn to your profile picture – a simple mirror shot of you hiding your bare chest with your arms, head tilt slightly to the side and a black panty covering your cunt. He swallows the lump in his throat as he scrolls down, reading your pinned post:

“Hey. You can call me Angel. I’m 23 years old. This blog is filled with all my fantasies and kinks, sometimes my nudes. Feel free to send me yours too.

My kinks: cnc, free use, somnophilia, spit, slapping, marking, choking, daddy, and more.

My favorite fantasies: rape play, kidnapped, kept as sex slave, knife/gun play, forced gangbang, and more – why don’t you help me unlock those? DMs and asks open for all your threats and nudes.

Update: already got myself a master/daddy. Asks and messages are off.”

As he scrolls further down your blog, Jungkook doesn’t even realize he already has his hand wrapped around his dick as he masturbates to your the latest fantasy you wrote albeit months ago.

I can’t stop masturbating to this dark fantasy of mine – being raped by someone so brutally after they kidnap me. How they would keep me chained to the bed, always naked so they can easily rape me whenever and however they want. They would mock me whenever I would tell them to stop (“You shouldn’t have worn those skirts if you didn’t want to be raped. But you did. So, this isn’t rape. You were clearly asking for this like some depraved filthy bitch in heat. You’re fucking loving this, don’t you? Isn’t this what you want?”) and choke me as they pound into my wet and clenching pussy relentlessly. They would slap and spit on my face, abusing my cunt for hours until I’m full of theirs and their friends’ cum whom they called to let them have a taste of their new toy.

They would rape me day in and out until my body gets so used to it that I start asking for it – crying and begging to be fucked. “Shh, angel, daddy’s going to fuck you, okay? Don’t cry.” Slowly, I would forget all my autonomy and identity, wholly submitting myself to them because I was never my own in the first place – I was always theirs.

“Fuck, Y/N!” His entire body shakes as he cums again. Jungkook can’t stop – he wants to read more, see more as you posted a picture of your cum covered cunt at the end of the post and he imagines it’s his. But he gets a notification that he is out of data and Jungkook slams his phone on his bed, frustrated beyond bounds. He is still hard. He still wants to see more of you, read more of your fantasies.

Namjoon’s words echo in his mind. I bet she’s fucking wet right now at the thought, at the anticipation that one of us or all of us are going to have our ways with her. I bet she’s aching to be touched. I bet she wants you to rape her, Jungkook. So, why not just do it?”

And before he knows it – he is standing across from your limp body. You’re still unconscious – sack over your head, tied and bound on the metal chair. Jungkook walks towards you, gently touching your shoulders to see if you would react but you don’t. He bites his lower lip as his eyes fall on your naked chest. He reaches down to trace its curves before ultimately cupping one breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, twisting the nipple and pinching it. No response.

He begins to stroke himself as he continues to fondle your breasts. This is wrong, but why does it feel so good?

“F-Fucking slut, you’re asking for this,” Jungkook hisses through his teeth. He’s not going to last any longer – not when those perky nipples are so inviting and moments later, he cums all over tits. He’s panting, an exhilarating feeling he hasn’t felt before rising within him as he stares at your cum covered chest. He swallows, breathing heavily. Should he stop now or keep going? He doesn’t have data anymore, but he does have the real thing right in front of him. But you twitch and he jumps in surprise. Suddenly, the realization of his actions washes upon him. He feels a coil in his stomach. What has he done? He scrambles out of the room and dash straight to the bathroom where he extensively washes his hand and splashes cold water on his face. Then, he throws himself on his thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as he pants. Namjoon is right – he’s just as fucked up as they are.

CHAPTER 3 is coming soon.

TAGLIST: Wanna be part of Dead Kids’ taglist? Fill out this form and don’t forget to read the short note in order for me to tag you.

ANDI: I do not condone the behaviors exhibited in this story. The characters of Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok do not reflect who they are in real life. Fanfiction is just fanfiction. I have no schedule in writing – I write whenever I can. Please try to refrain from sending asks about updates (or at least be kind and polite about it) and let me know your feedbacks instead as they help a lot in motivation and inspiration! 🦉

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © ANDI-KOOK 2024. NO PART OF THIS STORY MAY BE REPRODUCED, TRANSLATED, MODIFIED, EDITED, REPOSTED AND THE LIKES WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION.

[highvern]

Track 9: Feature Me - Flo

“He's got me actin' like I'm some kind of animal // The way he looks at me, I don't feel like a girl no more”

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!Reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: Katoptronophilia, exhibitionism, pussy slapping, Mingyu is a huge tease, brat!reader, fantasy of choking, sex toys (vibrator)

Length: ~800

Note: i know i said this came out tomorrow but this is my world and i do what i want! also i wrote this before nana tour revealed shirtless gyu with a chain but now that that's out there im down stupendously (as if I wasn't already)

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

“I told you to watch.” Mingyu rasps in your ear, free hand harsh against your chin as he drags your head back up.

The mirror resting against the wall across from your bed frames a scene of complete debauchery. Mingyu’s head just visible over your shoulder, captivated with every jump of your tummy and gasp of breath as he forces the pink vibrator against your clit on the highest setting; encouraging him to force your legs wider to enjoy the show.

Mingyu loved watching you touch yourself, loved having you watch him touch himself, and most of all loved touching you. So why not combine all those things and put on a performance worthy of a never-to-be invited audience?

Not an hour ago you’d been embarrassed. Batting away your boyfriend's hands as Mingyu recounted the video he found on Twitter. Whispering how hot you'd look spread out for him, practically begging for you to let him get you off in front of the mirror he already moved from the hallway to the corner of the bedroom.

And now you sit, completely naked while he remains fully clothed underneath you, the stiff material of his jeans rubbing your bare skin raw each time you squirmed in his arms, your knees hitched on the outsides of his thighs, preventing any sort of shyness at his affection.

“Please, Gyu,” you gasp, drool leaking down your chin as his arms flex with effort to keep you still.

Ignoring your request, Mingyu angles the vibrator just so; leaving your chest caving and muscles ripped tight. “Need it so bad, don’t you pretty girl? Just look at you humping my hand.”

“Say that like—shit!— you aren’t about to cream your pants.” You bite back.

A stinging slap to your pussy nearly sends you to the floor, hips bucking into the contact. The now forgotten vibrator buzzes across the carpet while Mingyu harshly swipes against your clit. 

“Aww, baby.” Mingyu tuts. “Be nice.”

Voice cracking, you goad him again. “Or what?”

Another slap answered with a sob and Mingyu smiles over your shoulder, pinching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head to turn towards his. You can feel the residual dampness from earlier smear across your jaw and your boyfriend delights in the mess; eyes igniting with glee that only spells trouble for you. 

“Wanna come?”

Whine as he brushes his nose against your own, his mouth just out of reach causing you to warble with protest. Your back shakes with Mingyu's laughter at the pathetic state you’ve melted into, turning your head back to the mirror.

You’re a mess; eyes red and watering and body glistening with sweat. And where Mingyu works you is no better; blossoming pink around the thumb abusing your swollen bundle of nerves, your opening sucking up his fingers eagerly.

“Please!” 

You don’t know what you’re begging for. Maybe to finish like this on his fingers; maybe for him to unzip his pants, slip his cock inside, and have you ride him; maybe for the hand gripping your chin to dip to your neck and giving a loving squeeze while he lavishes you in praise. 

But Mingyu knows exactly what you need.

The inside of your thighs burn with warning, both of Mingyu's strong hands dropping to get you to the end. Your thighs attempt to shutter close at the shock but the man behind you forces you wide open to drink in everything.

A third finger joins the other two curling against that place inside you and Mingyu's ears ring with the guttural moan they press from your lips. Vision black, your soul flees into the abyss in an effort to preserve your sanity because Mingyu doesn’t stop. Even when you thrash in his lap, his teeth and hands force you in place, making you take what he offers freely.

It isn't until the blood returns to your brain that you find the strength to bat away the hand still wedged between your thighs.

“Shhhhit,” you gasp.

Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile. Pampering reverent kisses anywhere within reach while you catch your breath. He silently adores the way you melt in his hold, mouth slack and eyes dropping.

“Good?”

With a final peck to his lip you begin your descent. Sinking onto boneless knees, Mingyu follows you with confused eyes, eyebrows furrowed as you unzip his jeans. Arching your back, you know he can see the remnants of your orgasm dripping onto the floor beneath you if he took the time to look up. But he's trained on your doe eyes and the shrinking distance between your mouth and his cock and misses the motion of your free hand cradling the long forgotten vibrator.

Mingyu's so sensitive he nearly knees you in the tit when you press it to the underside of his leaking tip with a sadistic smile.

“Eyes on the mirror, baby.”

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @cvpidyunho

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[gladosisstillalesbian]

in honor of portal day, have this screenshot of a post I made in 2019 two blogs ago

Transcript:

[“honestly when I look at portal all I see is female power fantasies

like!! everything that glados is is a redemption for caroline. everything about how glados operates and what she likes and why she does what she does is a reclamation of the agency that caroline didn't have.

-caroline has to stay tight-laced and "proper" in order to make the company look good? glados sings, glados makes stupid jokes for no one's benefit except her own, glados gets angry and gets weird and gets whatever she wants to

-caroline has to curb her own intellect in order to avoid threatening the egos of the men around her? glados isn't just smart, she's clever, she's wily, she shows off the knowledge she has and does the science that she wants to do

-Caroline has to keep quiet and avoid voicing her opinion? glados has as many captive audiences as she wants, forever and ever, and by god if they aren't going to hear her every single thought

-caroline has to take abuse and misogyny and keep smiling? glados takes none of that- the scientists who tried to control her are wiped out, the man who thinks he can do her job better than she can is ruthlessly removed, anything and anyone who might threaten her is destroyed without a thought

-caroline puts up with a terrible man her whole life? boom glados is a lesbian no men needed

and chell!! chell is for every woman who is afraid of their power, who is worried about appearing too "strong" or too "angry," chell exists for every woman to look at and say, "this is who I could be if I wasn't afraid to do what I need to do to survive." chell doesn't make anyone's life easier at the cost of her own comfort, chell isn't afraid to be strong and buff and athletic (and mean when she needs to be). chell is for women who want to own their intellect without worrying about being ~refined~ and want to take no shit from anyone, whoever they are and whatever authority they have over her, chell is for women who don't want to make niceties or spare anyone's feelings, chell is for women who aren't afraid.

the women of portal tell us that it's okay to be loud or quiet or angry or weird or silly or powerful and fuck anyone who tries to keep us from being those things”

screenshotted tags which read: #god. do i need to buy portal?????

“yeah!!!”

end transcript./]

[alternate-real-ities]

Hey man! Love what you've got going on with your blog and helping people out! Would love to see what else is out there for me, love a good race tf personally!

- TF Lover

Hey there! Thanks so much for your kind words about my blog and the unique content I share. I'm always happy to help spark people's imaginations!

As you know, my current setup relies on peering into alternate realities via this custom-built multiverse gazing machine (which is a long story!). While full transformations aren't yet possible with my current tech, I've been able to capture some fascinating versions of yourself from other dimensions. Here are three such glimpses:

First up, meet yourself as a young Indian man from another reality.

In this version of yourself, you are a skinny and nerdy-looking young man in your early 20s. You have long dark hair, bright brown eyes framed by thick glasses, and your face sports quite a bit of facial hair that you trim to look tidy.

You work as a software engineer at a large tech company in the heart of Silicon Valley making the big money. When you're not coding away, you love to play video games at home in your pajamas and eat junk food while binge-watching anime series.

-

Next up, meet your Japanese popstar doppelganger:

In this reality you're dressed to impress in a tailored ensemble that accentuates every sculpted muscle beneath. Your brownish hair is perfectly coiffed, contrasting with porcelain skin and dark piercing eyes. The confident smirk that usually plays on your lips suggests you know exactly how captivating you look.

Under the glare of the lights, every inch of your lean physique seems to shimmer with an otherworldly allure. Your jeans hug the swell of your ass as you move fluidly across the stage, commanding the audience's attention with every sway and thrust. The energy is electric - you can almost hear the collective sighs of adoration from the crowd!

-

Finally, across yet another dimensional divide, we can find yourself tapping into your nordic roots:

In this reality, you exude a quiet confidence that commands respect. Your piercing blue eyes seem to bore into everything you look at, and that strong jawline is accentuated by a neatly trimmed beard. The way your body fill out your clothes makes other people wonder what other assets lie beneath...

Beneath that buttoned-up exterior lies a beast waiting to be unleashed - a physique sculpted through grueling gym sessions, where muscles ripple and flex as you pour sweat. Just imagine the raw power coiled within those piercing blue eyes...

-

These glimpses offer just a taste of the incredible diversity possible across the multiverse. Who knows what other versions of yourself await discovery? As I work on my timeline converger, maybe one day I'll be able to share the gift of full transformations with you and others. Until then, I hope these alternate realities inspire you into achieving the best of you!

[writing-with-sophia]

Hi! Thank you for your blog. It really helps with writing ♡

I have a question throught,

How can you refer to a character without using their name, hair/eye colour, or gender???

I hope this question isn't too difficult or boring. Thank you in advance :))

Ways to refer to a character without using their name, hair/eye color, or gender

This is pretty hard.

Way number 1: Emphasize their role or profession

This is what I often encounter in the short stories I study at school. Authors often use professional terms such as "artist", "driver", "farmer", "engineer", etc. to name the characters throughout the story. Doing so often has two main purposes: one is to make it easier for readers to remember the characters thanks to their most typical characteristics (occupations), and the other is that the author wants to target that character as representing a community or a larger class.

For example, "farmer" is a character representing the peasantry and working class, while "teacher" represents the intellectual class, and "princess" represents the aristocracy. These characters do not represent themselves, but rather the classes or communities they symbolize, so they do not have individual names.

Way number 2: Also emphasize their role, but combined with descriptive phrases

In situations where the characters don't represent any wider community but just the character themselves, you can add some descriptive phrases in front. For example, "the young barista", "the elderly neighbor". Thus, you can both diversify the way the character is called and describe some typical characteristics of that character without revealing gender, appearance, etc.

Way number 3: Employ metaphors or analogies

This is a pretty cool way, but I advise you not to overdo it. Instead of talking about name, gender, characteristics, etc. directly, you can use metaphors. For instance, a leader is "the lion of the group", "the alpha", or a misfit is "the black sheep". It sounds much better, right?

Here is a short paragraph I hastily wrote using metaphors and analogies to refer to the characters without mentioning gender or names:

The melancholic melody of the violin echoed through the room, its sorrowful notes washing over the gathered onlookers like a gentle rain. The performer, a beacon of grace and poise, moved with the fluidity of a dancer, captivating all who bore witness. Long, slender fingers danced on the white keys like a staircase from heaven, weaving a tapestry of emotions that covered the space. Each up and down is a heartbeat, a breath, a silent conversation between artist and audience.

That's all! If you have any questions, please inbox me!

[pamgkrthwrites]

Captive Consort Chapter 1 - Blood of War and Rings

Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. Warning, the following content has disturbing/triggering themes such as; Yandere, Arrange(Political) Marriage, Religious/Cultural Differences, Imperial Harems, Self Harm for Religious Practices. I do not support or encourage these themes or actions, they are merely written fictional events for entertainment. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 19. (This list may get updated with each new Chapter Update)

DNI IF YOU ARE AN AGELESS, MINOR OR BLANK BLOG

Support me on Ko-Fi | Sign Up to the Tag List | Masterlist | AO3 Listing

Taglist: @yazminetrahan @emmab3mma @dreamcastgirl99 @optimisticprime3

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Bakugou x Female Reader

Additional Pairings: Iida x Ochako, Kirishima x Mina, Mitsuki x Masaru, Mitsuki x Inko

Themes: Fantasy AU, Arrange Marriage, Political Marriage, Cultural/Religious Differences, Yandere, Greek Inspired Reader, Imperialism

Summary: Your country has been at war with the Barbarians for almost a year, and the Barbarian Prince, Katsuki Bakugou, has requested a peace treaty. Problem is, he is demanding either a large sum of money that your country can not provide, or you as his bride. You're from a culture inspired from Ancient Greece, while Bakugou is from a culture inspired by Imperial Japan, Imperial Russia, and Vikings, so there are are going to be a more than a few issues that arise from this and how people treat you differently.

A/N: I literally have an assignment due to tomorrow but no I spent MY ENTIRE WEEK writing this. I might be mentally unwell......... ANYWAY Hello hello. This is probably the LONGEST thing I have ever written for one chapter. Be prepared for Melissa Slander.

Word count: 10k+

"Father, you can’t seriously be considering marrying me off to that barbarian prince?!” You stood before your father in disbelief.

He couldn’t actually be considering this proposal, right?

Your father sat at his desk, the treaty paper in his hands. “He says he’ll stop the war if our nation gives him money that we do not have, or marry off one of The Nine Shachou Member’s daughters of marrying age. Unfortunately, you’re the only one who is of marrying age and has yet to be married.”

“But father-!”

Your father slammed his hand on the table as he stood up before shouting at you. “You will do as I say, child! We cannot afford to continue this war with the barbarians! Let alone with the rest of their savage continent! At least this way, we have a way of controlling them!”

You bit your lower lip, trying not to cry. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

You are merely an object to be traded for these monsters.

“You’ll be shipped over on one of our boats. I’ve been told it’ll take thirty days for you to reach their continent if everything goes smoothly.” Your father said as he sat back down. “You’re just going to have to deal with this, child.”

You gripped the side of your dress. “When do I leave?”

“We will be sending our response to those barbarians at first light tomorrow. It is already written up.”

That wasn’t an answer to your question. “Am I taking anyone with me?”

“That depends on the prince’s response. He may not allow you to go with any maids or guards.”

You were silent as you looked down at the floor. 

“I recommend you pray to the gods while you still can, child.” Your father told you. “Also bring miniature statues of them as well. That continent of savages worship different gods to us. I will pray to Soteria to protect you.”

You clutched the beads around your neck, each of them symbolising one of your many gods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a week had passed, you were instead shipped by carriage with your father to meet with the prince and his men at their camp.

Your mouth smeared up when you noticed the wet mud before your feet.

“Fourth Shachou,” You heard a gruff voice with a thick accent say. “We hope your journey was safe.”

You turned to see a green haired man with freckles on his cheeks. He stood at one hundred and eighty-three centimetres tall and had green eyes. He didn’t wear typical clothing you saw of the barbarians, but you could still see it was from their continent, but with the skin that was showing you saw a large amount of scars. All differing in lengths and widths.

Your father gruffed as he left the carriage and walked over to the young man. “I see you know our tongue.”

The green-haired man kept a smile on his face. “We speak the same language, Fourth Shachou.”

You got down from the carriage, holding the skirt of your dress up to avoid it being dirtied from the mud. The green-haired boy looked towards you and scanned your face. 

“This is my daughter.” Your father put his hand on your back as he said your name, pushing you forward.

“I am Midoriya Izuku.” The green-haired man introduced himself. “I am childhood friends of the Barbarian Dragon Tribe Prince, Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Dragon Tribe?” Your father repeated. “I thought there was only one group of those barbarians.”

“Be careful of your tone, Fourth Shachou.” Midoriya warned before answering your father’s question. “Back in times of old, there were many Barbarian tribes. With the rise of the Demon Lord a hundred years ago, the tribes were either wiped out or forced to merge together to be stronger in numbers. The Dragon Tribe is a result of Humans Barbarians and Dragon Shifters Barbarians merging into one Tribe. They are currently considered to be the largest Barbarian Tribe throughout all of known history of Nihon. They continue to use the name of The Barbarian Dragon Tribe to remember their fallen brothers and sisters.”

Yourself and your father watched as Midoriya went on a ramble of Barbarian history. Once Midoriya was done, he looked at you two and noticed how you had both reacted to him. He blushed lightly.

“Sorry- Didn’t mean to ramble.” He quickly pushed out of his mouth. 

“And what is your relationship with the Tribe, boy?” Your father asked. “To our understanding, they don’t let outsiders into their tribes easily.”

Midoriya seemed taken aback by your father’s statement. “They don’t typically like those from outside of Nihon to join the tribe. You might be mistaking the actions of the tribe to Kacchan. Kacchan is very standoffish to even meeting those outside of the tribe.”

“And who is this Kacchan?”

“Oh- Sorry, I mean Prince Bakugou.” Midoriya said offhandedly. “Kacchan was the nickname I gave him when we were children.”

Your father scoffed.

Midoriya looked at you. “If you are ready, I can take you to go meet him-”

“Women of Girisha are not permitted to speak to men without permission of their father or husbands, let alone walk off somewhere private with a man who is a stranger to her or her family.” Your father glared at Midoriya. 

Midoriya paused, looking up at your father with a look in his eye. His lips were in a line and his eyebrows were knitted.

A smile quickly painted his face, but it was no longer the smile from before. “Yes, my apologies. I had forgotten that was a custom for your people. I simply wanted to ask if she was ready to meet with the Prince.”

Your father replied. “I will be needing to discuss the travel arrangements with him.” As if that was an answer to the question.

You saw the strain on Midoriya’s face. “Of course. Follow me then.”

Midoriya turned and started to lead you two to a large tent, the tarp fabric being a red copper colour. On the ‘door’ to the tent had a symbol on it. The centre of it had a symbol of the first number. To the sides of the character were simplified wings, which met at a base before the numbered character. The symbol was painted on the tarp with a black ink.

Midoriya raised a hand as he got to the door. “Please wait here for a moment.” He said to the two of you before heading instead to the tent himself.

Leaving your father and you standing in the mud.

Your father sneered. “This place is a pigsty. It’s muddy, it smells, and none of the people here smell as if they have bathed.”

You looked down at your shoes, grimacing how they were dirty now. You wondered if your own nation’s army camps looked like this too. It’s not like you would ever know, women weren’t allowed near the army camps.

The tarp opened, seeing Midoriya’s smile. “You can come in now, Fourth Shachou.”

You followed in after your father. You bowed your head as you curtsied while your father merely bowed his head.

“Greetings, Prince Bakugou Katsuki. I am the Fourth of Nine Shachou Member,” Your father introduced himself, stating his name and family name. “As we agreed to in the peace treaty agreement, my daughter.”

You stood back up straight, introducing yourself by name to a man with wheat ash blonde hair and crimson red eyes. He was slouching in a chair, but if he stood up he would easily be one hundred and ninety-six centimetres tall. He had broad shoulders, with a tattoo that matched the symbol on the tent door. He wore a teal crop top that was laced up at the front, an orange sleeve with black patterning starting at his wrist to his mid upper arm, navy denim pants, a red coat with fur coating the neck line, high-low fur skirt that was held up by a dark brown belt, knee high grey boots, and leather armour on his knees and shoulders.

The man was staring at you, his eyes glued to your face and refusing to look away from your face. His finger tapped on his face, as if calculating something.

“I wanted to discuss-” 

“When did I allow you to speak?!” The blonde’s voice was loud, his attention now brought to your father. His glare would throw knives if they could. When your father wasn’t responsive, the prince let out a grunt, pushing his hand down his face. “Make it short.”

Your father hesitated before he spoke. “We have yet to discuss how my daughter will be transported and when the wedding will happen.”

“It’s happening tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?”

A cough came from a man who stood at one hundred and ninety centimetres tall with red hair and ruby red eyes. “His Majesty means the two will be flying there by dragon’s back today, which will allow the wedding to happen tomorrow evening. Traditionally, Barbarian weddings happen at sunset.”

Your father let out a nervous chuckle. “I see you are eager to end this war.”

“I’m eager for my old hag of a mother, the Empress, to stop sending me letters about her almost twenty-one year old son not coming back home.” The blonde corrected.

Your father suppressed a smile by gripping his own hand tightly that his nails dug into his palms. 

The beast of the East is easily controlled by the dominant woman in his life.

“Unless you want to transfer ownership of your daughter now and we get flying this second and have a late evening wedding?” The prince asked with a smug smirk.

Your father paused. “Ownership?”

“That’s how your people treat their women, right? They need permission to speak, which implies ownership over them.”

“I… Guess that is one way of interpreting our customs.” Your father grimenced. “I will permit her to travel to your continent for tomorrow's services. I expect that she will be housed within a separate room.”

“Of course.” The princes said with a smug expression. “I will get one of our axe-maidens to look after her.”

“I’m sorry, an axe-maiden?” Your father questioned. 

“Yes, a woman trained in wielding a battle axe.” The red head explained with a smile. “They start training when they are virgins sure, but they don’t have to stay forever to be an axe maiden.”

The prince looked over his shoulder, giving the red head a look. The red head looked away quickly.

Your father scoffed. “Of course. That will be permitted. Where should we place my daughter’s luggage?”

The prince paused for a moment before making a hand movement to Midoriya. “Tell them to put the luggage with Raccoon eyes’ luggage. We’ll fly separately.”

“Of course, Kacchan.” Midoriya smiled at the prince before walking out of the tent.

Once Midoriya had left the tent, the prince looked back at your father. “Better, Forth Shachou?”

“Will my daughter be permitted to send and receive letters?” Your father asked.

The prince’s lower eyelid twitches. “Yes, she will be able to send and receive. How long it will take will depend on the ocean.”

Silence grew between the two men as they glared at each other. You turned to look at your father’s face, seeing a frustrated expression.

You wanted to ask what it meant, but the expression on your father’s face gave you the answer already.

No.

“Kirishima,” The blonde looked at the red head. “Get your wife, and tell her she’ll be taking care of my betrothed.”

The red head nodded before walking past to leave the tent.

“We use the word intended.” Your father told the prince.

“Fortunately for me then that your daughter will be married to me. Therefore, she will be married in my culture and its beliefs.”

“Does that include your nation’s gods?”

The prince was silent. “I will not be forcing a belief system onto your daughter. She will be free to believe and practise her own beliefs as she wishes. At most, she will be asked to watch one of our rituals.”

“Very well.” Your father looked down at you then the prince. “Should I leave you two betrotheds alone?”

The prince lifted his head off his hand by about 2 inches. He stared at your father, searching to see for any ill intent before his eyes landed back on you. His eyes almost dug holes deep into your skin.

The prince breathed in through his nose. “...That is acceptable.”

Your father smirked to himself.

Weak men can easily be controlled by a woman’s influence.

Your father bowed his head before turning his back to the prince. He leaned close to you and spoke. “Behave.” Your father walked past you, leaning you alone with the prince.

The prince kept his eyes on you as he stood up. His steps towards you were slow, stopping when he was thirty centimetres between you two. His eyes were glued to you, soaking in your inner being. He took a breath in through his nose.

Was he smelling you?

“On Nihon, we address each other by our family names or titles unless we are close.” He told you. “Because we soon will be having the same last name, would it be alright if I called you by your given name?”

You slowly nodded your head, hesitating to speak. “That’s fine.”

“Would it also be alright if you called me Katsuki?”

“I can do that.”

He nodded, non-verbally communicating to you that he understood.

His eyes fell from your face and to the bead around your neck. He slowly pulled his hand to the beads and gently held onto them, tilted them to get a better look.

“What are these for?”

“Each bead represents one of our gods.” You told him as your hands went to one the beads. “This one is for our Goddess Soteria, a Spirit Goddess of Safety, Salvation, and Protection from harm.”

Katsuki was quiet as he let go of the beads. “Do you pray to her often?”

“Yes, she is my family's patron god.” You let go of the bead, your eyes landing on his necklaces around his neck. “Do yours also represent your gods?”

Katsuki looked down at his beads. “No, nothing religious. These are traditional cultural practices my family does. Each loop represents an event in our lives. The orange ones represent my birth, the red ones represent when I first used my magic, and the claw looking one represents my warrior spirit at the first religious hunt that we do.”

You gently held onto the necklace that was longer than the rest but had very little beads. “And what does this one represent?”

He watched you carefully, looking down at the three beads on that chain. 

“... An event that happened during the summer after my sixteenth birthday.”

He’s being vague for a reason. Best to drop the subject.

You dropped the beads and the subject.

“Bakugou I heard you wanted to-!” A feminine voice boomed into the tent.

Katsuki’s head lifted from looking at you, now glaring at whoever walked into the tent. You saw how his mouth went into a scroll and how his cheek twitched.

You turned your head, seeing a woman with light pink skin, messy pink hair, yellow horns, black sclera, yellow iris and stood at one hundred and seventy-five centimetres tall. Her mouth was shut and small as she sweat bullets upon seeing Katsuki’s face.

“Sorry, was this a bad time?” She asked.

Katsuki snarls his upper canines at the woman. He shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose. Katsuki addresses you by your first name. “This is Kirishima Mina. She’ll be escorting and protecting you and who you will be travelling with to Nihon.”

Mina looked up at the prince, having a silent conversation before turning to you. She suddenly rushed towards you and held your hands in her own. “It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Kirishima Mina! You can just call me Mina so you don’t get me confused with my husband.”

You were a bit startled by her forwardedness, trying to take a step back. Your back bumped into the prince’s chest, making you step forward towards Mina.

Mina leaned to the side and looked up at the Prince. “What’s first on the agenda today, boss?”

“You’re flying her to meet the Empress.” The prince replied. “The old hag will take care of everything until the wedding tomorrow.”

“Sorry- The wedding is tomorrow?!” Mina stared at the prince before looking at you. “Oh goodness! We don’t have the time!” She looked back at the Prince. “Wait until your mother hears about this!”

“Yeah yeah.” The prince gruffed. “Just make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”

“Right on it!” Mina smiled as she held onto your arm and started to guide you out of the tent. You noticed a few of the barbarians’ eyes on you once you left the tent, noticing your father’s eyes were not one of them.

The girl that was all pink guided you to an area that had bags of luggage, some of yours was mixed into that. There you saw Midoriya and the red haired man who you were pretty sure was called Kirishima.

Kirishima saw Mina, a side smile quickly forming on his face. “Mina! You came back quickly!”

“You could’ve told me the wedding was tomorrow!” Mina whined to her husband. 

Midoriya chuckled. “I’ve never seen Kacchan this eager to hurry something up.”

“He often complains that a rushed job isn’t a good one.” Kirishima sighed. “Yet all he has wanted to do regarding this is get it rushed.”

Mina turned to you with a smile. “I’m going to shift and these two are going to load our luggage onto me. This might take some time so try to find a comfortable place to sit.”

You were a bit confused in what Mina meant by that until smoke started to emit from her skin. A sudden cloud of smoke was around her body up to four times of her normal height. Once the smoke cleared, a pink Wyvern Dragon that had a yellow shine to its scales stood at  four times her normal height. She now stood at over seven metres tall, and that's when you didn’t count her yellow horns.

Kirishima sniffled, having a large smile on his face. “My wife's dragon form is so pretty, doesn’t she?” He asked you.

Kirishima stared at you, his smile going slightly flat when he noticed you weren’t responding.

“Oh, right.” Midoriya tapped Kirishima’s shoulder. “The custom for Girisha Women are that they have to have permission from their father or husband to speak to other men.”

Kirishima seemed shocked by this news. “But, didn’t-?”

A whine came from the big dragon, making Kirishima bring his attention back to her. He chuckled and started to move. 

“Sorry my love.” He told her. “I’ll start loading stuff on.”

You watched as the Dragon form Mina laid on her stomach as Kirishima put on a harness on her. It allowed one to sit in the centre of a circle but also allowed luggage to be strapped to the sides.

Midoirya tapped your shoulder, giving you a smile. “I know you can’t respond, but I do need to warn you that the flight from here to the capital will be over seventeen hours long. Mina should be able to push herself to fly the enter time, but you should sleep when night falls. Kacchan will be a couple of hours behind you.”

You simply nodded your head before turning back to watch Mina and Kirishima communicate somehow as they loaded everything up. You could only understand Kirishima’s end of the conversation, and it just sounded like banter.

You heard your name being called, and when you turned you saw your father. “Come here child, I wish to speak with you.”

As you walked away from Mina, Midoriya and Kirishima, Midoriya watched as you obeyed your father. They exchanged a look between each other. Mina’s dragon form let out a found, and in response Kirishima rubbed his hand along her body.

Once you were close to your father, he spoke to you in a hushed voice. “What did the prince talk to you about?”

“He asked if we could call each other by our given names, and then about our necklaces.” You answered your father, your hand going to the beads around your neck and starting to fiddle with them.

Your father had a smug expression on his face. “Really? Seems like the barbarian prince is weak to the woman around him.”

You pressed your lips together, thinking about how Katsuki reacted to Mina rushing into the tent. Though it was always possible he was just angry that the conversation was interrupted. 

Best to remember to not accidentally cut him off or interrupt him in the future.

“What do they plan to do with you now?” Your father’s voice cut through your line of thought.

“The Prince wants to send me over to Nihon as soon as possible. I’ll be leaving as soon as they finish packing my belongings onto the dragon shifter.”

Your father raised an eyebrow at you before looking at the pink dragon behind you. “I can’t believe they refused to ship you via boat because of possible sea monsters, and yet will happily throw you into the sky.”

You really doubted they made that decision because of safety concerns. They probably made that call because the war would only be considered postponed until the wedding happened. 

Maybe they were worried you would withdraw your consent to get married to The Prince?

Maybe that explained why he seemed kind with you alone in the tent.

Once the wedding happens though, I doubt he’ll keep up that act for long.

“Try to become close with The Prince.” Your father told you with a hushed voice. “Make him loyal to you and only you.”

You hesitated before nodding your head to your father. “I’ll write to you once I’ve settled in.”

Your father nodded his head. “Do try to be safe, child. We don’t have much information on their way of life, so we have no idea of the world you're about to be thrusted into.”

“Fourth Shachou,” A voice spoke. “I do hope you aren’t being rude about the people who will be taking care of your daughter.”

You both turned to see Katsuki there, his eyebrows knitted as he glared at your father. You noticed how he was slightly slouching. His eyes only darted to you for a moment though quickly went back onto your father to glare at him.

“Of course not, Prince Bakugou Katsuki.” Your father told him. “I am merely telling my daughter to be safe is all.”

“Oh really?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow at your father. “And how would you recommend your daughter to stay safe in a foreign land, Fourth Shachou? By staying in her room all day?” Katsuki turned his head slightly to Midoriya. “Is that not what we saw happening in some of the estates? They had locked their daughters and wives in a room?”

As Midoriya stuttered out of agreement, you remembered a lesson you were taught while growing up.

If a city is under siege, it is best to lock women in a hidden room for their protection.

You bit the inside of your mouth, one of your hands gripping your arm. If you did end up having to be locked in a room, wouldn’t that just mean you weren’t safe? 

“I simply don’t want my daughter to be victimised while under your care.”

“She won’t be.” Katsuki glared at your father. “No one who has ever been under my care has gotten hurt, and considering your daughter is to become my wife, I’ll be putting extra effort into it.”

“We’ll have to see how successful that is.” Your father snarked back.

Your father and Katsuki glared at each other. Midoirya came from the side, soft smiling at you. “It’s time to leave now, miss. I’ll help you-”

“No you won’t, Deku.” Katsuki turned, glaring at Midoriya. 

Katsuki stomped over to where Mina was. You tried to follow closely. Whatever this atmosphere was, you did not want to find out.

Once Katsuki got close to Mina, he gently grabbed hold of your waist and lifted you up. He let you lean on him as you climbed up onto Mina’s back and into the saddle. You heard your father start to complain to Katsuki about how to handle you properly. You elected to ignore it for now, trying to sit comfortable on the cushions that seemed to be strapped down to the saddle.

“How about you say your goodbyes to your daughter instead of correcting me!” You heard Katsuki’s voice boom aggressively as he addressed your father. “Considering this may be the last time you see her, I suggest you make it a kind goodbye.”

Last time?

Was Katsuki planning to get rid of you as soon as he could?

You looked over the edge of the saddle, seeing your father carefully approach.

You also noticed the glaring looks Katsuki, Midoriya, and Kirishima were giving you.

Of course, it all makes sense now. They are waiting for you to be alone and kill you. Of course they don’t like you and your father. Why did you think they would like you?

Your father called your name. “Just try to stay safe. Write to me about your progress there.”

You nodded your head, waving down at your father.

Mina stretched out her wings and jumped into the air, her wings starting to flap to keep her in the air. She started to ascend higher into the air before starting to fly through the sky, away from the war camp. She moved much faster than any boat or carriage you had been on.

You secured yourself as you felt your legs shake and shut your eyes.

Breathe, everything is going to be alright.

Just breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were woken up by a sudden landing, jolting you awake..

You were no longer in the air.

You sat up and rubbed your head, hearing people yell around you. You looked off the side of the saddle, seeing a woman who looked just like Katsuki yet shorter and wearing a crown on her head yell at staff around her. To her side was a man with brown hair and glasses, speaking very softly.

The woman looked up at you before smiling. “Good morning, young one. Would you like assistance getting down?”

You weakly nodded your head, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

She gave a laugh before yelling at someone to help you. Suddenly, a woman who appeared to be a witch of some kind floated up.

She had brown auburn hair that stopped at her shoulders except two side tufts that were a bit longer, brown hazel eyes, and hair skin that made her cheeks a soft pink colour. She was wearing a dark pink witches hat that had fake beige dragon horns, a vertically striped dress that ended at her mid thighs, black stockings, pink boots, and a green cape that was warmly wrapped around her neck and flowed down past her knees.

She smiled softly at you as she extended a hand out to you. “Grabbed hold of my hand and I’ll help you down.”

You looked down at the floor, wondering how the hell did Katsuki helped you up in the first place. You gently took her hand, and soon you felt your body become lighter. She was tugged down by someone in silver metal armour with a green cape coming from their armour. Once your feet touched the floor, she said ‘release’, which was followed by that light feeling going away.

The blonde woman walked towards you. You guessed this was Katsuki mother - and therefore The Empress - you bowed your head and curtsied before introducing yourself.

“Oh no need to do that, young one.” She chuckled, helping you up. “We will be family by day’s end. I am The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Mitsuki, and this is my husband. Consort of The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Masaru.”

As you bowed your head to Masaru, you noticed the witch float up again and started to float down the luggage. “It is nice to meet you, Empress’ Consort Masaru.”

He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, young lady. If I may ask, how old are you?”

“Nineteen, sir.”

“Hmm… And when is your birthday?”

You answered his question.

“So you were eighteen when the war started I see. Regardless, it seems like we will have to change the wine out for some grape juice.”

You blinked out of confusion. “Sorry?”

The Empress spoke. “At Barbarian Weddings, we have a cup the couple drinks out of. The couple must cut their hands and spill some blood into the cup before they drink from it. We see this as a form of physically connecting the two bodies together. The wine we use simply covers up the taste of the blood.”

“Why does the wine need to be switched to grape juice though?” You asked.

“The drinking age is twenty.” The Empress answered.

“I understand. Back home, our drinking age is eighteen for women, sixteen for men..”

“... Really? That’s interesting.” The Empress had forced a smile when she replied to you.

Masaru quickly spoke to try and heal any offence his wife might’ve offered you. “What do your people traditionally do during their weddings?”

“We drink wine to connect with the gods before cutting our hands and spill blood on the Goddess of Marriage, Hera’s statue so she can tie our fates together.” You informed them. “If a divorce were to happen, the statue would be broken.”

The two were silent, their mouths closed as they looked at you.

“It’s alright,” You told them. “I won’t expect The Prince to participate in my religious’ practices. I am marrying into his culture, not the other way round.”

The two seemed shocked by either your wording or what you had said, but before they could say anything, the witch had said the words ‘release’ once more.

You turned and saw all the luggage had been neatly placed on the ground. The witch started to float up again and take off the saddle that was around Mina. 

The Empress turned her attention back to you before speaking. “We don’t believe in divorce. The only way to separate from one’s spouse for us is through death.”

The knight - that had been standing off to the side for a short while - took off his helmet as you saw a man with dark blue hair and rose red petal eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” He bowed his head to The Empress. “Shall I start to transport the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed’s luggage to her room?”

Does that mean you and Katsuki won’t be sharing a room?

“That would be lovely, thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “If you run into Miss Yaoyorozu or Miss Jiro, could you ask them to come see me please?”

“Of course,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki!” He bowed his head before picking up a few bags of your luggage before running off so far there was a strong gust of wind and a dust trail behind him.”

You watched as the dust trail faded away.

Did he really just address her by her full title? Twice? Were you expected to do that?

You heard a thump sound, and upon turning your head you saw the saddle had come clean off of Mina’s back. Smoke appeared around the Dragon form of Mina, and soon the more human looking form of her appeared.

Mina stretched her back, followed by some popping or cracking sounds coming from her back. She let out a sigh as she relaxed her shoulders, yawning.

The witch softly laughed. “Long night, Mina?”

“I want to have a nap so bad, girl.” She whined.

The Empressed called you by your name before gesturing to the witch. “This is Iida’s wife, Ochaco. She’ll be looking after you while you get ready for today and while Mina is resting.”

“No it’s fine, I can deal with it.” Mina yawned.

“Mina, you should rest.” Ochaco rubbed Mina’s back. “Once Eijiro gets here, I’ll send him your way.”

Iida returned back, grabbing more bags then running off again.

He was gone for maybe twenty-five seconds and he came back for more bags already? How fast is he?

And why was no one else reacting to what was happening?

There were rumours of the Island of Nihon having a high percentage of magical powers, but you weren’t expecting to see two - three if you counted Mina - people using their magical powers so openly.

Mina yawned, nodding her head and bowing her head to the Empress. “I hope everything goes well before The Prince gets here, Your Majesty.”

The Empress smiled. “Thank you for your kind words, Mina. Now go rest. I’m sure Katsuki would be thrilled to see you at the wedding.”

Mina sighed before picking up her bags, putting two on her bag and carrying two under her arms. She smiled at you kindly, her gaze upon you being soft. “Try not to stress out before the wedding, okay?” She told you as she started to walk away.

“Now, let's get you inside.” The Empress smiled at you. She turned and started to walk towards the large palace. The columns on the building were a light grey, almost matching the mountains behind the palace. The outside wall itself was a soft green with painted gold on. “This is the Winter Palace, and those mountains behind it are what we call the Dragon Range. It’s believed to be the original birthplace of our Dragon God. The Dragon Range takes up roughly sixty percent of our land. There is a massive tunnel system within the mountains where our dragon shifter brothers and sisters keep their hoards.”

Iida returned, stopping before the Empress. He bowed his head. “Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki, I have put the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed belongings in their room. I have also found Miss Yaoyorozu and have informed her of your request to meet you. She said she will be meeting you along the way in escorting the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed.”

“Thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “Make sure the Todoroki Family is playing nice today, please?”

“Of course, Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” Iida bowed before running off again, this time in a different direction.

Once the dust settled, the Empress turned to you. “He may be the most responsible and reliable out of the original group that went to go fight the Demon lord a few years ago, but he is too formal at times I fear there is a stick up his arse.” She softly laughed before turning to Ochaco. “No offence, Mrs Iida.”

Ochaco smiled at the Empress. “It’s alright, your Majesty. Tenya has his own charm on how to do things.”

Once you four had climbed up the steps, the Empress and her consort looked out to the view. You turned, and saw a beautiful view of the land below the mountains being a wide open green land before meeting the ocean. You saw in the distance on both sides, land curving inward on itself, revealing the landmass continent of Nihon was an earthy atoll. In the distance, you saw the headlands of the atoll - which were often referred to as the Heaven’s Gates within the rare texts your nation had on Nihon.

“Those green pastures down there are the rest of our Empire.” The Empress told you. “It’s where all the human barbarians used to live before the rise of the Demon Lord. And the water mass from our coast to the headlands is known as the Ocean's Heart. We believe the landmass that houses the god’s came from that section of Nihon.”

“It’s rather beautiful.” You said softly. 

“Yes, it is.” The Empress hummed. She suddenly slapped her hands together, startling you. “We must start getting you ready. We have a big day ahead of us!”

The Empress started to walk inside, expecting the rest of you to follow.

“There are five sections of the palace. Front, Back, Courtyard, Left Wing and Right Wing. This is the Front of the Palace, the entryway. Everything staff related is located to the Left Wing and therefore, the corner connecting the Front and Left Wing is the ball room. Everything the Imperial Family does is on the Right Wing, therefore the corner connecting the Front and Right Wing is the Library. The Back is where all the apartments are. The Back Right Wing Corner is the Emperor or Empress’ apartment and the Back Left Wing Corner is the Heir’s apartment. The rest of the apartments are often used as Guest rooms if the Imperial Couple does only have one child.  The courtyard is at the centre of the enter Palace. Following?”

You nodded your head. You were a little lost but you understood enough to somewhat follow along.

The Empress’ Consort seemed to read what was on your face before gently patting your shoulder and smiling. “We’ll offer you a map so you don’t get lost.”

The Empress continued. “There is a guest garden which is accessible on the Left Wing and a private garden which is accessible on the Back. Overall, there are over one thousand and five hundred rooms.” The Empress continued as the group entered into the courtyard. “There are three levels. Ground level is the only level guests have access to, even if they are in a guest room it’s on the ground floor. Servants and Guards have access to all floors, but their main walkways are on the top floor. The middle floor is where the Imperial Family operates.”

… You were so lost.

“The Prince will help you if you need any help.” Ochaco smiled at you. 

“One can only pray.” The Empress groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows. She then switched to muttering in a language you were not familiar with. It was harsh on the throat.

Masaru responded in the same language, but how the pronunciation sounded was different. His words sounded softer, still rich consonants but his vowels were softer.

She groaned. She turned to you. “If my son gives you any trouble, please do let me know. I don’t want him to be a burden on his first wife.”

First wife?

Ochaco then spoke to you to answer your unspoken question. “Barbarian Law states those of the direct line of the imperial family are allowed to have up to nine spouses. First spouse is Consort, second to ninth spouses are concubines. This is to make sure the Imperial Line can continue via blood.”

“Though filling all eight concubines spots hasn’t been done in four generations, and even then that Emperor used his eight concubines as secret guards.” The Empress spoke. “And on top of that, the Imperial crown can be passed down by mentorship or by battle. I was passed the Crown via winning a battle to the death against the previous Emperor who got the crown via mentorship. We believe only the strongest can rule the Barbarians.”

So your safety isn’t secure, is it?

“I doubt the Prince would take in a second spouse.” Ochaco tried to reassure you. “I don’t think he’s the type to deal with the politics that come with having multiple spouses.”

You looked at the plant life you were walking past, getting closer to the other end of the palace. You hesitated before speaking. “If I may ask, Empress, how did you meet your consort?”

“He was my dress maker.” The Empress answered truthfully.

Oh.

“How many concubines do you have?” You asked carefully.

The Empress continued to smile. “Only one.”

The rest of the walk was rather silent, The Empress and Consort leading you to the apartment section of the Palace. Surprising to you though, they guided you into your apartment section through the ground floor.

Once inside the apartment, you noticed how there were stairs leading up to the middle floor. The ground floor seemed more of a hosting room more than anything. There was a study that looked dusty, a weapons room with many weapons missing, a dining room, and two more additional hosting rooms. One that looked like it was already claimed by the Prince, and a second that had nothing in it for now.

It looked rather dusty, uncared for.

“I’ll make sure Katsuki takes you to the storage room tomorrow so you can pick out some furniture you’d like to decorate this space with.” Masaru said to you. “If you don’t like anything there, we can get it custom made for you. You can make yourself feel right at home here.”

“Shall I guide you upstairs?” Ochaco asked you.

“That is where our influence of this day ends for now.” The Empress spoke. “I’ll let the Priestess know you have arrived. The wedding will be starting at six in the afternoon when the sun sets. After your bath I suggest you have a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”

You watched as the Empress and her husband left before being led up the stairs. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and two dressing rooms. All of your belongings were put into the empty dressing room.

“We can unpack your things after we serve you breakfast.” Ochaco told you. “The Prince should be arriving around the time breakfast starts to be served. I’ll quickly summon a maid to give you a bath, though I’m not sure if there would be hot water active right now. Most barbarian families have baths after dark.”

“It’s alright, I can bathe myself.” You told her. “How my people bathe is by having bath houses, or we simply were ourselves in a stream or a lake close by. I preferred bathing myself in the stream by my family home, so cold water isn’t an issue for me.”

Ochaco was taken back by what you said, looking at you with a concerned and shocked expression. “Weren’t you worried someone would see you bathing?”

“Our Goddess of the Wild Hunt wouldn’t allow such a thing.” You told her. “And even if a fool were too, the punishment would be death.”

She stared at you, a shocked smile was on her lips. She turned away for a moment and mumbled something under her breath. You raised an eyebrow at her before dropping it. You really shouldn’t be surprised if the people here looked or talked about you because of the customs you were used to compared to their own.

“I need to get my soaps from my belongings, so we may as well start to unpack.” You told her as you moved to the empty dressing room and knelt down to pull out your belongings.

One of your bags had no clothes in it whatsoever, mostly carrying all of your religious items such as your miniature statues of the gods. For now, you put those items on a shelf and put your bathroom supplies off to the side.

Pulling out your clothing from your other bags took some effort. Half of your clothing was for warmer weather, which meant the fabrics were thin and breathable, sometimes even see through. While your window clothing was a thick cotton and would cover up your entire body. Only when you pulled out what was planned to be your wedding dress did Ochaco make any sort of noise about your clothing.

“That’s so beautiful.” She smiled at it widely and brightly. The dress was a maxi dress, having ve neck, bishop sleeves, an empire waist, and a handkerchief hem. The fabric was an almost white cream colour, being a lightweight fabric. “Did you pick that out yourself?”

“No,” You told her truthfully. “One of the other Shachou’s daughters who is married gave it to me.”

“Shachou?” She tilted her head. “What's a Shachou?”

You thought for a moment, thinking about how to describe it. “Back home, we have nine elected politicians. Those nine are called The Shachous, and they are ranked with the length they have held their power for. They govern Girisha, debating and voting amongst themselves policies and laws. They are voted in by the voting base, which are men who own land and pay taxes, and men can only pay taxes once they earn a certain amount of wealth.”

“Oh, so similar to the Shiketsu Kingdom?”

You stared at her. “Sorry, I am not familiar with that.”

“They are one of the Kingdoms of Nihon, located on the western headlands. They have a Royal Family, but they vote in a President every ten years. The President works closely with the King and Queen while the Vice-President works closely with the heir to the throne. Though only people who own a home in their capital can pay taxes and are able to be voted into office.”

“... That's similar I guess.” You answered her. “Though, we don’t have a royal family. We overthrew them almost two hundred years ago.”

“So does that mean the people of your home nation disapprove of this marriage?” 

“... I think they would only be angry about it if The Prince imposed himself as our next ruler.”

“But do they disapprove?”

“... They approve on the principle that the war is over. That is all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t see the Prince, even after you had finished unpacking, bathed, had breakfast, had a nap on his bed, and had lunch. The only evidence you saw that he had returned was that his belongings had been making their return to the apartment the entire day.

The maids had practically locked you up in your dressing room, and they had given you bowls of strawberries and watermelon to snack on. They did your hair and did your makeup all while looking at some notes on a piece of paper.

You were disassociating for most of it, only being brought back to reality with a soft knock at the door. A feminine voice spoke from the other side of the door, saying your name with care. “I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, the Empress asked me to see how things were going. May I enter?”

You looked at how the maids reacted before answering. They continued to work around you, not giving the voice any mind.

So far no biases showing.

“You may enter.” 

Then in came a half naked lady, making your cheeks warm up.

She stood at one hundred and ninety-three centimetres tall, had black hair and eyes, while was wearing a metal armoured bra of some kind and metal armour on her hips that held up what would be mistaken for underwear, a fabric flowed from the bra and wrapped from behind her, a armour neck brace which held up a green cape, thigh-high stockings, oranges elbow gloves, and armours boots that reached her knees.

You were shocked by her attire, though no one else in the room seemed to be.

She smiled warmly and sweetly at you that you felt guilty for questioning her attire.

“I hope everything is going well.” Her smile beamed. “I made sure the maids had all my notes on what your culture’s hair and makeup typically looks like for weddings. I was so honoured that the Empress even knew of my love for your culture’s aesthetics. 

You were silent for a moment before turning to a maid. “Could I see myself in a mirror please?”

“Yes ma’am.” Said one of them before giving you a mirror. You were surprised to see your hair was done perfectly in the style your people did during weddings and they did it in such a way it suited you. The make up as well made you feel beautiful.

“I’m glad you seem to enjoy it!” She beamed before blushing from nervousness. “I should reintroduce myself- I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, I’m a Mage Commander for the Barbarian troops. My magic allows me to create things from my body, though it uses the fat on my body. It’s why I dress in such a way.”

“I see.” You looked down at her cape. This is now the fourth person you’ve seen wearing a green cape. 

“Usually for Barbarian Weddings,” Yaoyorozu broke you from staring at her cape. “Both the bride and groom wear matching earrings. Prince Bakugou will be wearing his on his left ear for the wedding and we were just wondering if it would be alright if we asked you to wear some on your right ear?”

“I don’t have my ears pierced.” You told her, you were about to explain why but she began talking.

“I am aware your people only allow oracles to wear earrings, but these ones wouldn’t need you to piercing your ears.” She walked over to you and a section of her skin started to glow. She cupped the area that was glowing right before the light stopped, crocheting down before you. She presented to you what was in her hand, which were four gold earrings that had a clip maniche for the back of the earring. “These are clip-on earrings. They won’t require any form of piercing onto your ear. They might be a little painful considering the size of the earrings, but I think they could still work.”

You gently picked it up from her hand and took a closer look. The earring itself was two centimetres in length less than a centimetre in width. Where the gold would be connecting to your ear was a very tiny bulge on both sides.

“... This is acceptable.” You told her. Her face lit up and you heard a maid somewhere sigh in relief. 

“May I put them on you?” She asked. Once you gave a nod, she carefully reached to your right ear and started to put them on your ear. Surprisingly to you they were painful, though they were slightly heavier than what you expected. She pull away and gave you the mirror so you could look at them.

“They look very well on you, ma’am.” One of the maids told you.

“Do you like them?” Yaoyorozu  asked.

“... They will go well with my dress.” You told her, not wanting to admit you liked them there.

Yaoyorozu  stayed crouching before you. “I need to tell you something before the wedding begins.”

Your heart sank, fearing the worst. 

Were they going to sacrifice you or kill you right after the wedding?

“I know for your traditional weddings, the night after the wedding is usually the couple’s first time.” Yaoyorozu spoke gently. “For us, we wait until the woman’s first period after the wedding just so we know the first child is of the married couple. Though the Empress and the Prince have been informed of your culture and traditions regarding the first night, it is unclear what the Prince wants. Which is very unlike him.”

You tilted your head at her comment at the end. 

Unlike him? 

“So I just want to warn you that if you two don’t do it for the first time tonight, then please don’t take it personally. He probably doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or on the other hand if he does ask if you two could do it tonight, don’t feel pressured to say yes. I know Prince Bakugou seems rough around the edges but he is sometimes surprisingly respectful.”

Why was she doing this? Why is she trying to warn you about this?

It didn’t matter what happened tonight. You were now property of the Prince because of the Peace Treaty. It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t in Girisha, you were still a man’s property. 

“Can I ask you something?”

She gently gripped your hands with hers. “Anything.”

“Why do you, the Iidas and Midoriya wear the same matching green cape?”

The maids froze, looking over their shoulders to watch the interaction. Yaoyorozu was taken aback by your question, not expecting the question to be about a cape.

“Well, the cape shows which Prince I am loyal to.”

“I thought there was only one Prince of the Barbarians.”

“... Officially. Honorary Prince Midoriya Izuku by the status of his mother being the second spouse and first concubine of the Empress. Midoriya was born three years before the two had met and was fourteen when the Empress killed his biological father. It’s the only way to legally transfer spouses for us barbarians, to beat them in a battle to the death.”

You remembered what the Empress told you earlier, that the imperial crown could be passed down via a fight to the death. 

Does that mean if someone challenged Katsuki to one of these battles while being emperor and he lost, you would be handed over to the next Emperor or Empress?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the sun started to set, you were brought out of your dressing room wearing your wedding dress by a woman who had blonde hair, aqua eyes, and stood at one hundred and seventy-one centimetres tall. She wore oval framed glasses, a white with pink accents priestess dress, and a small green cape.

Seems like Midoriya has many who support him.

She smiled politely and bowed her head to you, calling you by your name. “It’s an honour to meet you. I am Priestess Shield Melissa. Since you have no father figure with you here today, I will be walking you down the aisle before you exchange vows.”

You bowed your head slightly. “Thank you, Priestess.”

She paused. “Why are you bowing your head?”

“Back in Girisha, we see Priestesses as higher status since they have a higher connection to our gods than most of us do.” You informed her.

She made a face. “Well we don’t do that here.”

“I understand, it’s simply my customs-”

“Then I recommend you keep your Girisha customs to yourself.” She butted in. “Our Prince has already decided to go against our traditions by marrying you before he is supposed to. He is supposed to only marry after his twenty-first birthday, which is in forty-one days anyway but he was adamant this ‘wedding’ should be done right away.”

You stared at her, though not surprised someone was rude to you, simply shocked it was a priestess and so openly.

You were expecting someone to be rude to eventshully.

“I recommend you start learning our ways sooner rather than later. Prince Bakugou is not known for being nice to outsiders.” She glared at you before turning her back to you. “Let’s get going now. I don’t want to be blamed for you being late to your own wedding.”

She turned on her heel and started to walk out, expecting you to follow. Gripping onto the beads around your neck, you put your hands together and brought them to your face as you started to pray to your gods.

“Goddess Soteria, please gift me with your protection and safety.” You mumbled under your breath. “Goddess Hera, please bless me with a good husband who will not hurt me.”

Melissa rolled her eyes as you continued to walk. You were so consumed with praying, you didn’t realise you had reached your destination until you bumped into the back of Melissa.

She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry-”

“Members of the Imperial Family do not apologise. Now, place your hand on my forearm so we walk down the aisle.”

You turned your head to look, seeing a long wedding aisle that was over one hundred metres in length. 

The longest aisle back in Girisha was barely forty metres long and you were expected to walk down one that was more than double?

“Are you ready?” Melissa asked with an annoyed tone.

You gently put your hand on top of her forearm then started to walk with her for almost two minutes. You tried to ignore the stares you knew you were receiving, keeping your eyes on the red carpet before you.

When Melissa moved her arm away, it was because you had reached the end of the aisle. You saw Katsuki’s grey boots before tilting your head up to look at him. It appeared that the left side of his hair was gelled back, showing his piercing on said ear to the crowd. 

His red crimson eyes were glued to you. He looked at you up and down, looking at the dress you were wearing.

He didn’t give anything that showed he approved or disapproved of the dress, though his eyes seemed to focus on where the beads around your neck were sitting.

Melissa forced a cough to force Katsuki to look at her. 

“Today we are gathered here at sunset to bare witness a man and woman be forever tied together in matrimony, taught to us via the gods.” Melissa started. You heard soft mumblings in the audience but decided to give it no mind for now. “Barbarian Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, do you take this woman as your wife, to live together, to hunt for her, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for long as you both live?”

Katsuki looked back down at you, his eyes unreadable. “I do.”

Melissa turned to you and said your name. “Do you take this man as your husband, to live together, to bear children for him, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both live?”

To hunt for her and bear children for him? 

You didn’t know where those lines came from or why it was in the wedding, maybe it was just a barbarian thing?

“I do.”

Two children walked up to you. A fourteen year old girl and a twelve year old boy. Both had hair that was either blonde or a very light brown, brown eyes, and freckles on their noses. Both held red pillows, the girl’s sat a short blade and a miniature statue of your Goddess Hera - how she had it you had no idea - on it and the boy’s having two rings.

Katsuki picked up a ring that housed a crimson ruby. He gently grabbed your hand and slid the ring on your ring finger as he spoke. “I, Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, take this woman as my wife from this day forward, for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

You picked up the golden ring and grabbed Katsuki's hand. Sliding on his ring on his ring finger, you stated your name. “-take this man as my husband from this day forward, for better and for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do us part.”

As you spoke, Katsuki picked up the blade and cut into his left hand. Once you had finished the ring exchange he picked up the statues, smearing his blood on it. You cut into your left hand, tracing the scar from previous religious rituals. He passed the statue to you so you could smear your blood on it.

Melissa passed Katsuki a chalice filled with grape juice. He squeezed his hand so his blood would pour into the cup before passing it to you and taking the statue from you. As you did the same to pour your blood into the chalice, you noticed how rough Katsuki passed the statue to Melissa.

Katsuki took the cup from you, keeping eye contact as you took a sip from it. He passed it back to you, putting his hand securely under the cup as you took a sip. Melissa took the cup, raising it into the air.

“By virtue of the authority vested in me by the Gods, I pronounced these two husband and wife!” Melissa announced to the audience. “You now may kiss the bride.”

Suddenly, Katsuki grabbed your face and pulled you close. His lips met yours with passion, leaving you confused. You closed your eyes as the crowds started to cheer and clapped.

As the crowd continued to cheer and clap, Katsuki pulled away with a smirk.“You're mine now, and you won’t be going anywhere.”

[witheredgardenparty]

Twisting Twigs in Celadon

Read on AO3 (AO3 Account)

(This might look familiar. Author moved blogs.)

Zhongli x g/n Reader

Originally a request for the Holiday 2023 Tarot Request Game.

Getting caught in his orbit was like being stuck in a sort of anachronistic bubble. (or, the one where you arrange flowers.)

Warnings: yandere dynamics, soft yandere, maybe literal captive audience, paternalistic behavior, Reader is instinctively uncomfortable by the age difference, the gods are merciless in their own unique ways (talking), I read actual books to get a modest understanding on the topic but I still feel woefully unprepared for how political flowers are, extreme liberties taken by forsaking Teyvat's internal flower structures because *internal screaming*

Word Count: 1.2k

Liyue Harbor is bustling with its usual vim and vigor. The weather is peaceful and mild. You had awoken in perfect health, absolutely rested and content. The morning ritual has gone over stupendously well. On any other day, this would leave you energized and ready to tackle whatever may come.

It is a shame that no one saw fit to die and save you from obligation.

Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is unsettlingly quiet. A table has been prepared for your arrival. The surface laid littered with a modest assortment of florals and foliage. The front counter is lined with a small variety of vases. Environmental association momentarily has tricked your eyes into mistaking them for urns.

The first time you had agreed to listen to the strange man's story had been a random act of kindness. Zhongli was an eclectic presence about town. There were rumors whispered by street merchants and the Millelith alike that he must be adeptus in origin. The people think him some sort of illuminated creature carving a space for themselves among the humans. (Rumors used to wonder if he was not Rex Lapis himself, but those ended the day the Archon's corpse rained down from the sky.) 

Regardless, you had always found him a lonely sort of ghost. A being that haunts an area he is no longer able to recognize. 

This is meant abstractly, of course. Despite his eccentricities and somewhat outdated tendencies, you did not want to do him the discourtesy of treating him any less than human. Perhaps that had been naive of you.

...please read the rest on AO3. (Requires an Account)

"could you do zhongli and flower arranging please?" - Anon

The Draw:

The Caiman and Poppy (Dreams) - In Reverse

Bay (Wisdom) - In Reverse

Knight of Swords - In Reverse