#i think i was just unsure enough of my preferences that experimenting and expressing them freaked me out

[forcebookish]

bro ok let's just say i'm an ace mspec lesbian. trying to figure myself out is so tiring

[lettucedloophole]

Okay, so like, when people say "AMAB people are male socialized growing up," they're saying that generally speaking AMAB people are sorted into the Boy category and have Boy expectations placed upon them. Sometimes individuals may feel that they were socialized the opposite way instead for any number of reasons, and some feel they got a mix of both, or some other thing. Either way, "male socialization" and "female socialization" - the expectation to be a Boy and a Girl - is still a thing that exists. When I was not allowed to play with girl's toys as a kid, that was male socialization. It sucked! It wasn't good! It didn't make me a boy or program me to be a rapist like TERFs say it did, but it's a thing that happened, and that happened to others.

You bring up not classifying things by intent. I would personally argue, just speaking for myself, that's the more important thing for describing these phenomena, but even if we are focusing on what was absorbed, many trans wo/men grow up do end up repressing these parts of themselves and only rediscover them later, or are aware it sucks but tries to find space for themselves in the Boy category. That's still a significant segment of the transfem population that went through the same process the OP was describing where Boyism was internalized. And no one, other than TERFs, is saying that if a trans woman did internalize Boyism, that makes her evil, because my side of this discourse does not generally believe that Boy=Evil in the first place. Trans men can openly talk about many of them forced themselves to act like women because of the extreme demands placed upon them to do so because "woman" is not seen as The Oppressor, whereas if I'm like "I wanted to play with Barbies as a kid but I wasn't allowed to so I got real into the brands I had access to" I'm apparently sucking up to TERFs.

Again, not everyone experiences socialization the same way, individual experiences are important and you may feel you never once went through anything like that, but "male socialization" is a phrase for when that does happen, although also again, I personally prefer to use the socialization label for the expectations themselves more, and that's much more expansive.

i get what you're saying about socialization, the issue isn't that what you mean by male socialization hasn't been explained enough, it's an issue of if that's the most appropriate way to describe that process. regardless of the intent of some people, what i believe is a minority, i think when most people say trans women are male socialized they mean it in the terfy way, including trans people. i understand that one guy was trying to not seem that way, but still furthered a narrow view of trans women's upbringings. perhaps his posts would've been better if he left out the part that implied trans women as a whole don't experience female socialization pretransition (and had he not... kinda just flipped out on katra). most of what i was expressing was a disagreement on how the conversation was taking place, though i touched on my own skepticism of this amab=male socialization classification in my questions

i don't think you're sucking up to terfs, but i do think it was weird that you defended that guy and misrepresented what katra was saying and act like transmisogyny is not a prevalent issue in tme trans ppl. like in this ask where you say only terfs believe these things, respectfully i do not believe that is true...

i agree though that transfems who internalized that Boyism and tried to live within it, didn't know they were transfem or whatever til much later on are valid. you could describe me as a female-socialized transmasc nb who didn't have any early experience of transness or gnc-ity, so i'm not coming for anyone based on that.

as for what i think on socialization specifically, i'm unsure of the usefulness of your definition of male socialization when most people disagree with what socialization means, and i'm not reallyy convinced that there's an objective definition of male or female socialization historically you can fall back on to say how other people define it (like katra) is wrong. i think changing the name of male socialization as you define it to amab socialization would provide a bit of clarity for people who misinterpret the term and solve some of the issues people (fairly) have with it. more than that though, i wish my smart mutual had not deleted her post where she talked about their issues with gendered socialization being described in such binary terms because i think this conversation opened me up to the pitfalls of relying on binaries to discuss complex social processes. it lacks specificity and different people internalize different things, so it may be worth considering that male/female socialization are not as useful as terms as something like gendered socialization, patriarchal socialization, and cisnormative socialization, for example.

one conundrum that has also made me think this is that when a trans woman does something like sexual harrassment that's associated with being male, it's described as being because of male socialization (not by you but other ppl). but if a cis woman does the same, what is it then? she's still not considered "male socialized" but she was socialized under patriarchy (& often has other privileges but this isn't about that) like that trans woman, which was likely a factor in that behaviour. that's to say... i think talking about socialization as binary like this can fail to account for how gendered socialization can manifest in different ways. the cis woman was socialized to accept sexual harassment rather than distribute it, but (apart from her other privileges) she internalized gender in an unexpected manner.

another reason is that, it seems to me that people don't talk about other groups quite the same way. i haven't seen as many discussions of black or white socialization as i have racial socialization. i wonder if other fields have maybe already found out the pitfalls of binary specificity, or perhaps the difficulty is specific to gender.

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Doo Wop

Once in a while I have a same passing thought. During the time of Alastor and Vox being friends, I think Vox managed to convince Alastor to visit a Hells 1950's diner. Which is becoming popular as more people of that era continue to fall and some built and visit to get a sense of normalcy they are familiar with.

I think it be incredibly endearing chain of events. Because its not only Vox that yakking up how great life was during Vox time. Because Alastor has Nifty doing the same. Expressing her own interest in music to him.

Eventually Alastor gave in and visit a diner with the two of them just to make them happy. They were so excited to share part of their living lives with him.

Alastor didn't hate it like he thought he would. I know Alastor is unmoving about trying new things. But I think before his friendship sour with Vox, Alastor was at least willing to be open slightly to experiment for curiosity sake.

He didn't hate it.

He much prefer what he familiar with. Jazz from his ere is just classy, refine, has more style. I have a feeling Alastor would like doo wop music or the quartet Chordettes. I think he be charmed by their jingly tunes. I can just imagine him sitting and enjoying listening to them as he swings a finger in the air like a small rod a conductor would use.

But he reluctant to admit, Vox and Nifty mustic has appeal of fun to it.

I honestly headcanon that they died mid 50's but I'm hoping they both died in the late 50s. Because that's where all the music was really banging that they would like. I picture Vox being a Bill Haley and an Elvis fan. Nifty would definitely be en Elvis fan. He was the bad boy of that time.

I can see Nifty and Vox dressing up to go out to the theme diner/bar. Nifty in her poodle skirt. Vox dress up more like a greaser. Jeans and leather Jacket. Which Nifty loves. Nifty basically developing a small crush for Vox. They try to get Alastor to dress up, I'm unsure if they were able to convince him that far.

Vox totally try to get Alastor to share a milkshake with him. The whole double straw thing. Alastor did sample a sip but ultimately, he doesn't like sweet things. To Vox dismay, he ended up sharing with Nifty in the end who was happy and probably giving flirty look that made Vox uncomfortable.

What's better then the music...is the dancing. Alastor always loved to move but 1950's dancing was up a level. Men were tossing woman like they were acrobats that isn't part of chirography group dance. Can you imagine what type of moves Vox displayed then later Alastor with Nifty alone? The girl who weighs as much as a house cat? Then you get Vox and Alastor together...oh what fun they would have!

Not to mention, its a bit scandalous to what Alastor use to. A lot more with all those hip swivels and leg shaking.

(For those who don't know Elvis was consider a bad boy, and very controversial as his dance moves was considered vulgar at the time. But he was so popular...which meant people want to copy him)

Then you have the stupid dances that Vox and Nifty have to teach Alastor. Like the Mash potato and the twist. Which Alator think is beyond stupid...but it fun.

Its a stupid thought I keep having repeated in my mind. But I think it be so charming if the three of them had a few outings to a 50's theme. Vox and Nifty relationship would be amusing. Both getting along with shared interest but not enough to click into a deeper level. Both are just excitable gremlins, who being overly excited to show their mutual their passions of their former life.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

alpha rhaenyra x omega dragonseed headcanons or other format if preferred. dragonseed saves rhaenyra from execution & aegon the young (where they meet for the first time) and rhaenyra decides that she needs to bring the last person with a adult dragon at the moment closer (marriage more than likely) and reward her. I would assume cannibal is the one who would be left to claim.

ooOo thank you for your request, honestly i'm really liking dragonseed reader, i also gave reader a bit of a Rhaenys moment, hope you don't mind

try not to squint too hard if you're not a book reader because I wasn't sure how to make it vague enough in some parts for both fandoms when it came to the escape. the dance takes place over a year's time where Aegon III is 9/10 to my knowledge but currently in the show where the dance is beginning he is only 4

i would be happy to write more on Aegon and reader's dynamic if you'd like but i won't be opening my requests for a little while yet so it would be quite short if i do in-between, maybe just some scenarios

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: 𝔬𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔰: 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 (𝔦 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫к)

this got a bit long so i hope you liked it, i loved your prompt! (might base a fic on this if you don't mind? (👀)

Rhaenyra stared ahead, not yet ready to accept her fate but she would stand like the Queen she knew herself to be and hold her head high and eyes staring fiercely up at the dragon currently waiting for command

but when suddenly glass shattered and sprayed across the large hall and in the stead of her enemy's confident expression, it was fearful

her eyes trailed back to find a vaguely familiar face atop none other than the cannibal, arguably the most dangerous dragon she had ever known

her mind started circling with every question imaginable and when you glide through the sea of reinforcements who try to guard her for all the wrong reasons, she swears she has already died and is in the in-between of life and death

but in a burst of euphoria, you charge through the inhabitants of the castle and take no notice as Cannibal swallows them whole

it startles something in her as she glances about the room, unsure whether she can occupy a weapon

a blood splattered sword is before her and she clutches it quickly before joining your assault, striking the man's leg who held her youngest son, Aegon captive in his unworthy paws

she snatches him up and tries to soothe his stress

only when you are sure that you can see her do you stop and sweep down from your rampaging dragon and tug at her and Aegon, unbothered by the blood covering you all

you don't have time to allow Cannibal and Rhaenyra to acquaint themselves properly before you seize her into your arms and mount yourselves onto Cannibal, Aegon sat between you

the journey isn't what she thinks of as you soar across the sky, instead it is the awakening scent that hits her when her arms wrap tightly around your waist

"We are almost there, my Queen." You inform her anxiously but she is too busy imagining how your hair would look wrapped in her fingers to care

if she had it her way you would never land, you would stay wrapped up in her arms forever

rescuing the rightful Queen of Westeros was the most nerve-wracking experience of your life, to no one's surprise but when you land and her arms are still around you, you think this moment might be a quick second

guiding her off your dragon, your arms interlaced, you notice as her fingers linger against his pitch dark scales

"He is beautiful." She comments. "Have you named him?"

"Azantys." You answer. (Warrior) "It is only fair his name fits his title." Her brows furrow.

"How do you know High Valyrian?" You don't answer for a minute but she doesn't push you.

"I only know a few words, nothing more." She smiles at you and squeezes your hand.

"Then I shall have to teach you, sweetling."

Azantys is not fond of you leaving him but once assured that you will return, he settles

It had not been long since she set foot on Dragonstone but instead of feeling safe she felt shadowed by her failure of seizing the throne

she has to swallow this when she finally reaches her chambers after instructing her remaining men to urge you access of personal chambers of your own

all throughout the night she is haunted by guilt and pain but she does not intend to give up–no, she will not let her children's lives to have been taken in vain

she doesn't sleep that night but when day breaks she sprints to bathe away the soot, blood and dirt collected over her

after hours spent in the tub she finally dresses herself, when she hears a knock she expects to see her son

but when she calls, you appear, as haggard as she and it takes all will in her body to to run and thank you, instead she stares and takes you in for the first time

you're smiling weakly at her as you close the doors and curtsy she tosses her hand back and forth in dismissal

"None of that, sweetling." She tells you, stepping close enough to embrace your arms in either hand. she needs you to see the sincerity in her eyes. "You have saved a Queen and future King of Westeros, we are far beyond propriety."

then she lets her nose breathe you in and she realises why she is so drawn to you, she tries to smile at you but only a twitch of her upper lip occurs much to her frustration

you only soothe her, stroking a hand through her coarse white hair

you spend the rest of the day with her in her chambers, starting with brushing through her hair

she's never felt so cared for before

Rhaenyra also comes to find out that you have been caring for Aegon while she rested which makes her relieved, she knows that he is possibly the last of her kin and

by the day's end she requests you stay, it isn't nearly appropriate but she needs you, you have to see that don't you?

and so this is how your time with her continues, coaxing her into discussing with her remaining fighters and council members

she has been betrayed and beaten, she can take so much more

she looks at you one evening and it's as if it clicks into place, she finally asks the question you have been anticipating for months

before enacting upon her budding feelings for you, she will watch as you play and look after Aegon with her, she finally feels as though the gods have blessed her with a family again though the grief for her other children and husband still burns bright

"Do you...know what an omega is, darling?" Her voice is wavering and tentative. You suck in a sharp breath and nod bashfully, she finds it endearing. Her fingers carefully stroke against your cheek and she leans in close. "I suspect you are one." Her words are a carefully constructed whisper that shoot goosebumps over your skin. When she notice your lack of response and how you swallow any upcoming words, she presses a long confident kiss to your cheek and draws away from you just as easily

Your Targaryen Queen chooses to finally share her meals with you and Aegon in the dining hall, her paranoia subsiding as the person who saved

you're her protector now and she procures you as the leader of her Queensguard

however you act me as a companion than a guard and it is clear that your occupation is not all that matters to you

she slowly adjusts to her freedoms and diminishes her paranoia within your presence but only when you're with her, people have betrayed her before, she needs her loyal protector at all times

and eventually one morning she orders a meeting to be held and at the end she doesn't care that she shocks them

"You want to marry?"

"Whyever not?" She countered. "She rides one of the most valuable of our assets not to mention she saved my life. I intend to keep her favour."

"Even so, we are in a time of war, what should–"

"Precisely." Rhaenyra interrupted him. "We are in a time of war and she has pledged her allegiance to a currently losing cause. She must be rewarded." After her piercing glare, no one argues with her and she doesn't care for their whispers.

When she met with you again it was with a fierce kiss to your lips and a mixture of true and false promises

your ceremony is quicker than she would have liked but she has little choice in the matter if she wants to keep her supporters

with your darling cannibal dragon's consent, she has taken into her arms both a wife and a new Queen

if she wins the war she will decree that you rule beside her and not just as her consort but her equal, she will also fight to have you legitimised if you are a bastard

NSFW

she won't take you until your wedding night, she wants to maintain your respect and honour you

both her previous husbands died, she wouldn't be surprised if you were not entirely sure on this match

she might be a little insecure at first and hesitate but it takes little to coax her into a sense of security

she doesn't care about whether you are experienced or not, it doesn't affect her. no preference

traditionally i see Rhaenyra as a dom but in this state of circumstances i think she's a switch but the first night she lets you take the lead

her favourite position after marriage with you is literally called 'Queening' or as most people call it 'face-sitting'

it gives her that sense of control she desires while still letting a pretty equal power-play whether she's on bottom or top

she likes having you rut against her thigh as well but she will not be interested in any sexual activity in public whether or not she was before the war, everyone has their eyes on her and she doesn't have time for judgment

if she wins the war, she will take you in every area of the castle with the libido of two bunnies together

she likes teasing you and edging but she might overstimulate you if you act out

she is very vocal during sex and praises you as if you gifted her the sun and moon to her

i don't know if there is a proper term for it but i feel like she would have a kink for a hot atmosphere while using cold objects in your marital bed

[kmenkea]

Bloodlust - Part 5

Summary: After their big night together, Astarion is left on the forest floor to think, reminiscing the last few days, whilst disgusts curls his viscera. His only gratitude is that he is finally free from his master.

AN: I tried to expand on both Leeith's and Astarion's character in this chapter, between the pillow talk and the exploration that comes later, as their relationship starts to grow.

w/c: 5.3k

Read on AO3

I started this WIP months ago and I'm posting it now in this chapter because I thought it fit very well with the "like juicy autumn grapes" comment in this chapter.

They laid under the night sky, neither of them uttering a word, just admiring the stars. They were still sharing their arms in place of pillows. 

The only thing bad about casual sex, thought Leeith, were the moments afterwards, unsure of what to do. Neither of them were the type to cuddle with a stranger, but the vampire and the drow were just friendly enough that it would have been weird to stand up and leave. She scavenged her mind for a conversation topic, but only one thing troubled her at that moment. 

“So, I assume vampires are sterile… right?” He didn’t turn around, just hummed affirmatively in response. “Another one of the many things Cazador took away from me.” He sighed, spitting the name of his old master. “At least there aren’t chances of finding more little Astarions in Baldur’s gate.” 

“As if I would go and be so careless as to sire a bunch of mutts.” He said in a snobbish tone.

“Well, you really strike me as a Don Giovanni; there’s no way in hell you didn’t spend the past centuries sleeping around. In my experience, men like you tend to be very careless.” For some reason, the comment really irked the elf, who glared at her with a grimace. 

“Like me? What do you mean like me?” He raised his voice, bearing his fangs. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t mean it in a bad way. I’ve had my fun too in the years. But, the things you say and do and say… you’re an expert, is what I mean.” The vampire was still weary, but his expression relaxed just enough to calm the drow. 

“You’re speaking of things you know nothing about.” His tone was plain, but it was clearly a hurtful spot for him. She wanted to excuse herself again, but the vampire returned to his smug and grandiose self. "Just be glad I’m such a consummate lover.” 

“Oh absolutely, few things are worse than a man who can’t even please.” she chuckled, wanting to divert the conversation. “I’m just distraught that I’ll never get to meet an Astarionette in my lifetime.” 

“Darling, are you so infatuated with me that you’d have me even as a woman? I’m flattered.” 

“Oh no, darling, you got it wrong.” The drow glanced at her nails having grown pretty long. “I would prefer it if you were a woman. Sure men have the advantage of a built-in tool, but they're only good when they know how to submit.”

“Ha-ha, and still, I'm here. And my undying charm has got you pleading my name.” His face was extremely content and cocky, somehow more than normal. The drow roller her eyes, unpleased and humiliated. 

“Tks, you’re an exception. Consider yourself fortunate I’m not… I don’t know, whatever you darthiir - surface elves and traitors - think drow do after sex. Decapitate our male partners and feast on their guts.” She stopped to consider her words a moment. “Not that it doesn’t happen, but you know, it’s less common than you might think.” 

“And I assume the women get to survive your mantis mating rituals?” 

“Sometimes, yes. Why would I waste a true lover? There’s nothing better there’s than to lose oneself in someone that understands you completely. There’s a connection that I cannot experience with normal men. An instinctual knowledge, as if we’re both one and the same; the warmth of her body, her soft skin, the way even her ears reddened-” She stopped to consider her words, having found herself trailing off into the past. “Or maybe I don’t prefer women, I just want back those whom I’ve loved.” Leeith wasn’t going to have anything like that back. She didn’t want to have it back. 

“How quaint. I’ve never thought I’d see a spiderling in love. Let me guess, they grew some sense, escaped the underdark and left you there?” She faced the vampire: this time it was her sporting a pained grimace. She wanted to punch him in the face and leave him there after that comment. But it probably hurt her as much as the Don Giovanni comparison hurt him. 

“It ended like many other relationships in the underdark end: a dagger at the throat, hate sex and a corpse in the place you used to make love.” The drow looked back at the moon extending her fingers towards it, a simple gesture, as she relieved her memories. She caressed her wet, crying cheek for one last time, forever engraving in her memory how soft it was. How her lips were salty from tears. How her lover's hands trembled, while she pointed a blade at her chest, biting her skin, hesitating. Leeith couldn’t even feel that pain. “Dolor.” A mist of blood and brain matter rained upon her. Upon the bed where they used to adore each other. 

It had happened already more than once in her life, the details of each event twisting and mingling into each other. Did they use a dagger in the night or did they fight in the centre of a tavern? Did they laugh at their pain or cried together while hugging one last time in a muddy hallway? Was she the one that had been ordered to kill or her lover? It was fine now: none of that was ever going to happen again. She could have sex without sharing her soul, so why bother? 

“I love the underdark. I feel at home there. Baldur’s gate is probably as foul and bloody, but doesn’t its splendour shine brighter thanks to its darkness?” 

“Monsters like me thrive in the city. I suppose it does have its charm then.” He said with a shrug.  

“Do you consider me a monster, being a Lolth servant and all?” Leeith’s voice was starting to get heavy, as more memories flooded her mind and she was called to her trance. 

“Oh please, a bit of violence and religious fervour has never made anyone a monster. Sure your culture can be a bit - how can I best put this - intense, but I like your thirst for blood.” he licked his lips at the mention of blood.

“Then you aren’t a monster either. You just have very picky tastes.” She yawned, fully closing her eyes. “Glad I’m not alone up here on the surface. Good night, elf.” 

A cold shiver ran down his spine. The air of the night hit his body, still damp with sweat, but that wasn’t the source of his discomfort. As he laid on the grass, surrounded by trees and the calls of critters, he kept waiting and waiting. Soon, the spawn would hear those steps, coming from the long corridor behind the bedroom door. Then the click of the lock and faint torchlight invading his eyes. He flinched.  He was still alone. The breeze hit his nude body again, and he shivered. 

The drow was still beside him. She didn’t disappear; no hands fell upon her and whisked her away. She was the first person he had slept with in years not being taken away crying and pleading. Yes, right, he was free now. His lips curled up and he closed his eyes, basking in newfound bliss. No matter how much his mind dragged him to that damned mansion, with its dark corners and red carpets, his body firmly rested on the grass, lit up by the moon and the stars. The night could have been cold, but never as much as those four walls that imprisoned him for centuries. 

And it wasn’t all too bad. Astarion could feel the warmth radiating from where his skin touched Leeith’s.  Maybe he should have got closer? She was already protecting him, using their bodies to shield themselves from the elements wasn’t going to be that problematic of a request. He turned to the side, softly, knowing full well how light a trance could be. Maybe it was better not to push his luck. The vampire was free to walk in the sunlight thanks to her protection, guarded from the swords of monster hunters and possible mercenaries sent directly from his dear master Cazador. She had pledged to kill the bastard too: surely a naïve expectation, but it still sparked an inkling of hope in him. 

All of this at a modest price, something he had done for two hundred years to stay alive. He stared down at his bare skin, shame and disgust wrenching and twisting his guts. At least the prostitutes in Sharess's Caress were living in the lap of luxury, not fighting for their life and tortured for the smallest mistake. He wanted to puke, and had to cover his mouth to stop himself. He felt so foul, covered in sweat, both his and hers. His left hand reached up, clawing at his throat and chest: maybe if he peeled his skin off, he would finally feel clean. Something got caught under his nails and the smell of copper hit his nostril, entrancing him.

If there was one saving grace out of all this act, it was the blood. He still smelled it in her neck, now drying up. Some was still on his chin and chest, but had dried up too much to be edible. Not that he needed it since, for the first time in two centuries, he was actually satiated, happy, and his veins saturated with fresh, sentient blood. It felt so good to sink his fangs in warm flesh and to be met with the soul of the person he was drinking. Her joy, her excitement and her warmth, all laid out for him, ripe for the taking like juicy autumn grapes. It was almost worth the disgust that curled his viscera. Again the smile returned on him and the vampire relaxed, closing his eyes and calling upon the memories of what he had just experienced. Maybe this night he was going to dream about that, without Cazador interrupting it to punish him. He was free now. Astarion was just going to dream about Leeith’s elegant neck, searching for her pulsating artery, puncturing her skin, savouring her and at the end… his own pleasure. Countless people had given themselves to him, few able to grant him that moment where everything was void, and he didn't even remember them. But this wasn’t about his climax. Something stirred differently in him this time around, yanking his guts towards a different direction than simple shame. 

The memories of the past days returned to him. That rude awakening on a cliff, where he was sure he was going to die, incinerated by the sun. Fear gripped his heart when he walked out of the pod, but death was probably preferable than living life as a slave. Then relief and the warmth of the sun on his skin, gentle and assuring; his clinginess to life returned now that he experienced a morsel of freedom. The arrival to an old temple where he expected a fight, just for the new leader to lie and intimidate her way in and then, when other bandits attacked, she smiled and laughed at their pain. Maybe the drow wasn't too stupid and useless. The first time he had to give in to his hunger and the drow was alone near the campfire, but she woke, just to laugh in his face at the revelation he was a vampire, as if it wasn’t obvious from the start. So if it was so obvious, why didn’t she curse him and stab him? Why wouldn’t she chase him away instead of letting him feed? 

What a weird woman. But one that could help him. And so it started, his ploy to conquer her favour, met with very little resistance. It was so easy to be with Leeith and it wasn’t just for the fact the drow flirted back. She seemed nice to him, like a friend, someone that wanted to help him. She… had her quirks and surely made hurtful comments, but he couldn’t expect much more from someone whose favourite activity was spilling blood and laughing at people’s fear. Fierce and rich: like a pepper infused chocolate, the spiciness was part of the experience. 

Well, some of her kinks did worry him, but she didn’t seem too focused on trying them out if that night was anything to go by. Along the spiciness, came a soft calming warmth: her fingers tracing the wrinkles of his palm, while she asked him what he wanted for the second time that night. Her hand reaching up to his cheek, bringing him back to ask if it was all fine. And now her arm under his head, as he came back to the present again, in a cold, still night. 

Tonight did feel different. He couldn’t just forget that warmth. And suddenly his gut got yanked again and he realised what was tugging it sideways, away from disgust. Fear. Along came the answer to the question: why was he so worried about her falling in battle today? 

For the first time he was simply… accepted. Whatever he was, it didn’t matter to her. Or at least, even if she got a kick out of being his blood bag, he was more than a monster, more than his condition. Yet today he had been on the cusp of losing the only person who had shown him any amount of warmth in two hundred years. 

Sweet hells, blood was one hell of a drug. 

The only problem now was how to keep Leeith on his side. The sour taste returned to his mouth: to have that, it probably meant more nights like this. 

Leeith’s last dream, before opening her eyes, was of a spider biting her under the watchful eyes of the great matron. The memory of her new life began her day, calming her fears. A wave of peace rushed down her body, waking it. The pleasure was soon replaced by the frigid air of the morning and soreness in most of her muscles, especially her back, which felt stiff like a tree trunk. Her neck hurt so much it was hard to move her head and, just to add insult to injury, her whole shoulder was dark red. Getting up nude on the forest floor was a new experience for her: one could say, there weren’t many trees and grass back in the underdark. 

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. The morning was still young, enough not to hurt her eyes. And how could the light do it, when the vampire was in front of her, hogging it all, basking under a ray of sun. His porcelain skin almost reflected it, giving him an angelic glow. He kept his arms spread, as if he was just waiting to sprout feathered wings and fly off, so unbothered by anything “earthly” that he didn’t even notice her waking up. It would be such a  perfect vision, if it wasn't for an ugly circle scarred into his flesh, surrounded by weird glyphs: its aura was evil. That must have been what she felt under her hands the night before. 

“Not staying in for a cuddle?” She called, surprising the vampire. 

“Mh, I expected you to sleep light, but I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.” He only turned his head, preferring to enjoy the sun on his chest. The drow scoffed at his ego. It’s not like she didn’t enjoy yesterday night, but she did have better in her life, partners enough into it to go for hours. In comparison, Astarion seemed a bit less interested. 

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” If she had to take a  guess, sleeping around as often as he did, probably stunned his enjoyment of sex. 

“I was holding back a little, it’s true. I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were, I didn’t want to go too far.” Something was off about his tone, but he kept speaking before she could dwell on it. “Shall we get on? I want to go before anyone else thanks me for saving their tails.” The drow didn’t move and returned to look at the scar, admiring the craftsmanship. 

“I want to ask about your scars first. Where did you get them?” She was sure she had seen something similar before. The vampire flinched.

“It’s a poem. A gift from Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed and carved that one over the course of a night… He made a lot of revisions as he went.” His voice broke down on that last sentence, re-experiencing the agony. Leeith stood up, squinting her eyes. She got close to the vampire and one finger was about to touch the symbol, when the vampire turned around, lowering his arms. A flash of recognition flared her mind.

“Why did he write it in infernal?” Astarion’s eyes shot open and he looked over his shoulder for a moment. 

“Infernal? I… Who knows. The bastard was insane.” His face turned ugly in a frown. “Now let's go. We’ve wasted enough time already.” He walked off, collecting his shirt from the ground. 

The drow looked around for her clothing, but other than a necklace that broke during the act, she didn’t find anything. Something soft hit her in the face and she saw black. In her hands she found the cape, the only article of clothing that she got with her. Astarion was standing proudly farther along on the path. 

“Wouldn’t you prefer seeing my ass while I walk?” She threw the cloak around her shoulders, keeping it closed with one hand. 

“I got my fill last night. It’s better we concentrate on our duties today.” The vampire seemed distant: both his tone of voice and his expressions were cold and uncaring. The drow rolled her eyes and walked behind him without one more word. 

When they arrived in camp, only Lae’zel was awake, busy with her morning exercises. She shot a glance at both of them, returning together from the forest. The Gith spat something in her language and returned to her one-handed push ups. The githyanki had proposed a little rendezvous of their own before with words that were poetic, unexpected coming from an alien warrior. It wasn’t just the old regurgitated, albeit funny, lines of the vampire, nor the pompous and totally stereotypical flare Gale used in his speeches. It was hard to turn down her proposal, however, it had only been a few days since they had met and the drow was still weary of her companions. Judging by Lae’zel expression, she still held a grudge. It didn’t matter, the drow had some fun with Astarion.

Leeith shrugged and went towards a water barrel, throwing the cloak on a rock, uncaring of any peering eyes resting on her nude figure; Lae’zel could admire her body now, if she so wished, as she showered. The barrel was mostly empty, but it would be a waste of time to fetch more water now that they had to dismantle the camp. She dipped a rag into it and carefully cleaned up her blood and sweat. The water in the barrel turned murky as she dipped and washed the cloth. She wondered if Astarion could drink that and be satiated, especially since she wasn’t planning on feeding him for the next few days, to recuperate her energy after almost three days straight of blood loss. She was also going to need a strong coffee and hearty breakfast to make her head stop spinning. 

It took about an hour for everyone to awake and get ready. The plan for the day was that of dispatching the goblins from the village. Everyone was ok with a surprise attack, except the vampire. who would have preferred avoiding a fight completely.

“I’m glad you’re smarter than proudly marching in.” He sighed, already feeling spent. 

“Come on, Astarion, at least you will get to see some blood today.” Said Shadowheart, fixing her braid. 

“Ugh, goblin blood. Hardly anything to cherish. Besides, I’ve already had my fill for today.” He looked down at his nails. “Sure one more little nibble wouldn’t hurt, but I’ve learnt not to be too greedy.” He seemed to have cheered up again, enough to glance at the drow with a raised eyebrow.  

“Spicy.” Said Karlach. Some of the party’s member eyes fell on Leeith after this, but she chose to ignore the comment.

“Karlach, Shadowheart and Astarion, you’ll come. Karlach, I want to test you.” The drow spoke in a commanding tone. “I do not need weaklings with me, so don’t fail me.” She stared at the wizard, who turned his eyes away from her, scowling. 

“And what about me?” Said the Gith. 

“Another day, Lae’zel. We need people who can walk without making noises. Your armour is the opposite of that, unfortunately. Understand me.” The drow’s voice was sweeter now, soothing. The gith still rolled her eyes, but didn’t press the matter further. 

Leeith was on edge, not knowing what to expect. Were they going to get swarmed with beasts and vermin? She was sure she could take a few goblins even alone, the problem was just the amount of enemies who could be around. They attacked from the side, Astarion took out one of the sentinels on the roof and then… What a let down. There were barely any goblins around. Even the big ogres, who they surprised from the roof of a house, were easily killed by their spells and arrows - and left a most precious crown for the drow. Among all the rubble and gore, Karlach was showing off her lifting skills to a smiling Shadowheart, while the vampire piled more stuff over her back. Leeith thought that they wouldn’t notice as she put on the crown, since they were so busy having fun. When that gold headband touched her skin, she was cast into a deep colourful void. She probably stared off into the distance for a moment too long, listening to the chant deep in her psyche. 

“Are you good? What’s with the crown?” Karlach let go of all the stuff she was holding, in a large rumble of wood.

“It’s as if someone whispered the secrets of the universe in my mind. It’s great.” The drow’s  smile reached her ears. 

“Are you sure that thing isn’t cursed, darling? It might explode that pretty head of yours.” Said Astarion, rolling the r in pretty. Leeith took it off to study it and, upon sensing emptiness in her head, promptly put it back on.

“It’s just an intelligence boosting enchantment, no curses or anything, other than - well, it feels bad to take it off and feel normal again. I’ll take this for myself.” 

“I’m sorry, but we fought just as hard. How come you decide who gets the reward?” Shadowheart sounded pretty annoyed.

"Excuse me? I’ve been dividing weapons, armour and items to everyone equally. You get what fits you best. And since I’m the one doing the talking, I would assume having a little extra knowledge would help.” She tapped her temple.

“I’m pretty sure any of us would be able to talk, it’s not some remarkable drow ability.” Continued Shadowheart, looking at the vampire for support.

“I kind of agree, darling. I can stab with my words just like I can with my sword.” He raised his chin in an air of superiority. Leeith waited for Karlach to also talk against her, but the tiefling just wanted everyone to calm down. The drow breathed in deep, relaxed the muscles of her face. She sauntered towards Astarion, her hips swaying elegantly, like a panther on the prowl. She pointed one index at his chest, brushing against his clothes, and circled around him. “Look at me. Tell me, how can you stare into my eyes and refuse me? I will stay by your side and sing your praises forever in your ear.” Her voice was quiet and warm, melodious like a siren deceiving her next prey. Her visage was pure, not betraying any of her intention; unlike the vampire’s smile, too perfect and composed, hers looked as natural as the sun - she even summoned a faint red glow to her cheeks. Ambrosia couldn’t have been sweeter than her appearance. Astarion wanted to pull away from her, but the drow noticed how his eyes flared up in hunger and his tongue licked his fangs. 

She whipped away, facing the cleric once again. All the gentleness and admiration was washed away from her face. Her features were twisted, sneering in disgust and loathing. Her right hand glowed green and purple with a spell.

“Now, dare defy me again, surface dweller, and you will come to know what true fear and pain is like.” Though her eyes were aflame, her voice was like still water. The cleric tensed up, almost trembling under her fervour. The drow let go of the act an instant later, returning to a grin. 

“Karlach, sorry I can’t put up a little show for you, but I hope now you get why I’m the one doing the talking. As a reminder, you don’t get my kind of powers without being able to deceive or entice your patron. If I can do that to a creature much more mighty than all of us together, imagine how a lowly vermin can react.” She smiled again.

Her companion’s eyes darted between one another, until Karlach herself broke the silence. “Well, that’s nice, but can you do this?” She grinned and lifted up a chiselled wardrobe over her head, holding it up like it was just a small wood plank. 

“Yes… If I can threaten it to fly.” 

“Wait- I’m not done.” With a roar, the tiefling launched the wardrobe across the room, flying over Shadowheart and Astarion. They both ducked, the rogue even rolled away in an excess of carefulness. 

“Sweet hells, devil, first my nose and now this?” He screeched, still ready to jump away. 

“Hehe, It’s your fault fangs: you're just too sneaky and I can’t see you.” She placed her fists on her hips and pushed her chest up, looking down at everyone with an aura of grandness. 

“I think maybe it’s best we get going before more goblins show up, with the mayhem we’ve caused.” Said the cleric. The rest agreed and moved along.

With newfound confidence in herself and the group, Leeith went to talk to some goblins who were having fun with a deep gnome. They scattered off after being glared at by the drow. The deep gnome instead, had the good sense to thank her, be grateful for his life and run away. 

They went around the village, pillaging what was left. Most houses were empty and broken down, the only point of interest being a well, smith workshop and across from it an alchemist's shop, all dilapidated. While searching for ingredients for her own potions, Shadowheart found a hatch leading down in a basement full of coffins. The skeletons protecting it, proved themselves a more dangerous foe, but they were all crushed by the barbarian’s raw strength: she swung that sword like it was a hammer, breaking bones and throwing them far. Each slice or arrow that hit her, only served to grow her rage. She was unstoppable and powerful, but lacked the precision and technique of the Gith. 

After exploring around, finding only some rotten food and weird books from a certain Ilyn Toth. The group were ready to leave, generally disappointed with how the day went. The only last thing of note was a giant ornate mirror. It was weird for such an object to be mounted on a wall in a gloomy, humid basement. The guy owning the shop was probably just a madman with even madder interior design, but she still checked it out. At first the only thing she saw was her reflection and that of her companions, minus the vampire. She turned around, raising her eyebrow. 

“I guess the tadpole doesn’t solve this pr-” 

“Spea-k your name.” A face appeared in the mirror, startling Leeith. 

“Ilyn Toth.”  She said, after thinking for a few seconds.

“My master was human. True and pure. You are not Ilyn Toth. If you are his ally, ste-p forward and declare it.” The drow breathed out harshly, too tired to put up with fucking mirror riddles. She could have tried passing off as an ally of whoever this guy was, but didn't want alliances with people she didn't know.

“Open or I'll smash you to pieces - bad luck be damned.” She pointed her thumb at the big fiery tiefling behind her. The mirror’s face disappeared and, with a rumble, it slid away. 

“I think that crown is already working its magic.” Said Astarion, walking past her into the room. The place was fairly big, with books scattered on the floor and on the two large desks facing eachother. The walls were lined with bookshelves and two corners of the room housed small alcoves, with chests and more books. One even had a stuffed bear. As they explored the room, pocketing anything of worth, Shadowheart found a way back to the first room of the basement. Both Astarion and Leeith were much more curious about a little gated room.  

“Someone left a surprise for us.” Announced the vampire, pointing towards a mechanism. 

“Can you do something about it?” Leeith leaned in to look at it better. She could have maybe tried disarming it - she had come across tons of traps in a hundred years working as a criminal - but her fingers weren’t as nimble as the rogue’s. 

“Mhh, maybe. Maybe I could have a little nibble first, for good luck?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“No way in hell, blood-sucker.” She slapped a Guidance on him. “This is all you’re getting until I've had a few days of rest and my blood back.” He rolled his eyes in disappointment and sighed, muttering something about ungratefulness. In a few clicks, the trap was disarmed and the gate opened safely. 

The only thing inside was a pedestal, with a demonic book resting on it. Leeith was about to pick it up, but the vampire stopped her. 

“Wait, it’s trapped. You should really get glasses, darling.” He took out his tools again. 

“Why would I, when I have your perfect eyes around?”

“Because maybe one day I’ll let you walk on a trap to have a laugh.” Another mechanism clicked. Shadowheart and Karlach came over, curious of what was going on. 

“The Necromancy of Thay. Sounds ominous.” Read the drow, picking the tome up. A face with a large open mouth was facing it and the cover felt like being bound in raw skin. Darkness radiated from it, calling to the drow within its folds and pages.

“Please don’t touch the big scary book!” Said Karlach, with a tone halfway between annoyed and scared. 

“Yes, it looks heavy. Give it to me.” Astarion instead was way too eager to have it. The drow turned the tome over, but the lock holding it close didn’t seem to have a key. She shrugged and stuffed it down her backpack, ignoring both of them for the time being. Maybe she would let the vampire have it: he was already cursed with undeath, more necromancy magic through his body couldn't hurt. 

“First we need to find whatever opens this thing. No one’s found a key around here, right?” They shook their heads. “I think it’s best we make it to camp for today, then. We can stay in the town now that it’s safe and sleep with a roof over our head for once. Maybe even a bed and I'll have a warm bath.” With a vision of all these comforts, they left the alchemists’ cellar.

[ratwars]

Hiiiii Lue

Do you have any tips and tricks on writing gore? Oftentimes when I try to describe injuries it comes out either too medical or too tame

Hi hello Sin 🙏💜 Sry sry for taking a bit to respond my brain is mashed potatoes and when I got your ask all I thought was "make it sound wet" which was a bad answer but I was still onto something with that I think so here is my advice (just thinking to what I do but also since I read a lot of whump which usually has gore though I prefer softer gore to actually heavy gore I pulled from that too) just keep in mind I really don't think I am qualified to give writing advice and I would warn you I am bad at explaining things but you have known me for long enough now that isn't a suprise hopefully. And yet you still asked me this so:

In addition to sight, try focusing on the other senses of the "observer" as well, or the person experiencing the injury if it is from their point of view.

I visualize scenes in my head more like a movie when I write, the words come after. For instance when I wrote the scene with Chuuya tied to the chair (in my current whump fic) I imagined his side cut open, the wet sounds his blood made falling to the floor, the pull of the instrument used to create the wound against flesh, the splatter and where it fell from the weapon, Chuuya slumping but held by the restraints, and this happening again hours later leading to a mixture of old and new blood on the floor. It is more than I included in what I wrote but still very little to do with the physical look of the wound when you come down to it. Instead of describing the exact nature of the injury with knowledge of what caused it, I feel like I wrote it more from the perspective of what a "viewer" would experience if the camera panned to him (even though it was written still from Chuuya's point of view).

Think about the initial impression of the wound in the first few seconds of seeing it. If it is fresh and bleeding the details are going to be obscured, and if it is a grievous wound there will be other things going on, fatty tissue exposed and in places it shouldn't be, ligament showing, bone shards or bone. If you feel like what you wrote was too plain then including things like this might help but I still would keep it somewhat vague, because for most people seeing that is going to be very shocking and they wouldn't pick out details or visualize them to the level of being overly descriptive when it comes to "where" things are or proper terminology for things I don't think.

I like to think about the "feeling" from the scene too. What might my reader feel witnessing this scene/thing I have tried to express. When I write and edit (not just for gore but other key scenes or things I am unsure about) I like to do this and imagine what a person's expressions or reactions might be to what I have created for them and if that matches up with the feeling I want them to have. Imagining how they would react to what they see, then only include the things they would react to (or add things that I think would enhance their reaction, and delete things that don't). I don't get hung up on if I am "accurate" or not with the potential reader's response, it is more a helpful exercise to put myself in someone else's shoes since that does not come naturally for me really.

Describe what's missing instead of a description of what is there. Everyone knows where everything is supposed to be since we all have bodies and look at them all day, and something not being where it is supposed to be causes visceral reactions in people. I can provide real life examples of this too tbh from previous jobs. When someone is horrified or in shock trying to describe to you something that happened, often they focus on what is missing (if something was missing). "His jaw was just gone" "Her foot wasn't there anymore." "The skin was just gone". The idea of this is disturbing and sticks with people, and doesn't require a lot of additional exposition to express the weight of the injury. So even something like "half his face was gone, leaving only a mess of red" to me paints a clear picture of a very grotesque and serious head injury, I can visualize it easily, and it isn't overly specific or medical.

Idk if any of this is helpful but hopefully something in here might be.

[staywithmesana]

First Thailand trip. First out of the country trip with just friends. First Twice concert.

It was surreal. It was epic.

As of this writing, both weekends with Twice are already over and I'm struggling to express my feelings.

There has to be a name to capture this jumble of feelings, right? Cause it has been swirling around me virtually every minute of the last few days as I reflect on my experiences with Twice and gently re-enter the real world.

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THE DECISION.

When I first discovered more about Twice, it was a pandemic. "More" since I previously knew them through my great friend Pat, but I never had the opportunity to listen to their music.

It was during More and More when I first saw Sana, and gosh, I know I'm going to love her for the rest of my life. It was as if I had been transported elsewhere, and I craved more of her. I was smitten by her eyes, her tone, and everything about her, especially her orange hair.

I knew I'd do everything to see and hear her and Twice sing live, and I finally got what I'd been hoping for the last four years when I watched the girl herself perform at Impact Arena.

The Ready to Be tour was announced in February, and I was both excited and nervous about whether the Philippines would be included, as they had only announced Part I at the time. Until they announced a few months later that our country will be included in the trip!

I think it was around that time that Hannah introduced me to Rina, and we all agreed that we’d buy VIP tickets. But of course, not everything will go according to plan.

We were only able to obtain Lower Box tickets for both days in the Philippines, which was devastating because we were unable to secure our preferred seats. All the plans for banners and signs that we would show Twice went down the drain. It was then that they decided to plan a trip to Thailand to see Twice. I'm not going to lie; at first, I was skeptical. I was unsure whether my savings were enough, and I am anxious about staying days out of the country with just friends (I’m blaming my introvertness!).

A couple of thoughts came to my mind:

What will happen during our trip? Will I fit in well? Will I be awkward? What if I mess up? What if they don't like me?

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But there's just this excitement in my heart that urges me to try new things. I want to try to go to a place where my soul can grow, a place where I can get out of my comfort zone and explore different aspects of myself.

So I said, “Fuck it, I want to see Sana up close!”

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The Thailand Ready to Be in Thailand concert ticket sales arrived, and we were worried because this would be our last chance to see them in the VIP section. In comparison to the Philippines, the Thailand website was smooth and simple to use! Just a quick note to self, use a card that is accepted in Bangkok.

A couple of hiccups later, we finally got the tickets!

Relief and delight washed over me as the reality of going to another country to see Sana dawned on me.

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I felt slightly melancholy. Another wave of anxiety washed over me as I methodically planned the next trip, thinking that my sister is not going to be with me.

But I know what I want and what makes me happy. And I know that if I prioritize staying in my comfort zone, I would regret not going for the rest of my life. And I don’t want to do that to me.

Deep down inside I know that I am excited, I’m just scared that I will go there, and my head will be full of “Oh God, when is this going to be over?”

Fortunately for me, the friends I went with are the best (I'll dedicate a special section to them later).

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THAILAND & FRIENDS.

We booked tickets with Cebu Pacific Airlines, which added to our worries because the airline is notorious for canceling flights, and we won't know what to do if that happens.

And I believe that as soon as we got to the airport, all the luck showered on us, because there were no problems after that.

There were no flight delays. We had no problems with our luggage. Everyone went through immigration without incident. Everything was fine.

I was so happy.

Two extroverts and two introverts were, in my opinion, the ideal trip companions.

There was enough humor to make it extremely enjoyable and I wasn't compelled to interact all of the time because everyone respected everyone's peace and pace.

The first two people on this list were folks with whom I had never previously interacted. They are the people I have been anxious to meet, and I'm relieved that my concerns were unfounded.

Lee would fill in the gaps whenever there was dead air, loves to joke around, and loves to take great photographs, taking his fill on adventures as it was his first time out of the country. It was fun since he was there, and I had a fantastic time laughing at his shenanigans.

Rina was also an extrovert (though she insists she isn't), and I swear every time we turned around, she had made new friends (particularly at the concert hall). We instantly discussed Blackpink and Twice because we both adore both groups. Because of her it was never a dull moment. My co-water warrior, I appreciate all of our conversations and how you always include me in them. I’m glad that I got to know you!

Finally, Hannah, the mother of the group, HAHAHAHA! She truly took care of us all, from the time we booked our concert tickets, booked our airline tickets to our Airbnb accommodations and navigated our way around Thailand. She was the only one I knew from the group; but we had only gotten out twice before going to Thailand. Without her, I doubt we would have had a pleasant experience. I really enjoyed how she bargained with the locals ("There they said it's only 10 baht" iykyk) HAHAHA! We received discounts, but she purchased bracelets that were at least 20 times more expensive. Budol is real. Thank you for your assurance that everything will be well, and you are right that I did enjoy the trip! Thank you for inviting me to join you on this trip! This is an experience I will remember for the rest of my life.

Thailand has amazing food, and I have great friends, what more could you ask for, right?

I was able to have this out-of-body and amazing experience of witnessing Twice up close because of you three! And of course, visit one of the most tourist-friendly countries, Thailand. I will surely return!

I’m glad that I trusted my instincts, and that is to trust you! So many great things happened, and I would have completely missed out on all of these things had I not gone. And I’m not so sure that these things would have happened in the same way had I not been with you three.

We went anywhere we wanted. We did anything we wanted. We ate anything we wanted.

Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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TWICE.

September seemed a lifetime away when we got our tickets, but it finally arrived, and on September 24th, Hannah, Rina, and I made our way to Impact Arena with our concert gear (aka our lightsticks and our hearts full of love for Twice).

We arrived early because we were used to huge queues and expected delays and mishaps.

But surprise, surprise! We finished everything in 15 minutes. From claiming the physical tickets, buying official merch to buying our lunch for the day!

We even had time to line up for the photo wall.

And of course, we would not miss the chance to kneel before Sana! :D

We lined up the queue, and since my number was 1111, we were praying hard that we could get a good spot. So, by the time we got to the gate, we were running like hell to our chosen section, and we managed to reach at least four rows after the barricade!

Remember the screenshot earlier? About our desired spot? We managed to get there. Yay!

At this point, I was getting fatigued but yet enthusiastic because the soundcheck was about to begin. My feet and legs were aching, but my heart was overjoyed.

A couple of folks were telling Rina about their Twice concert experiences. Others had the opportunity to see the girls from years ago, while some had the opportunity to attend the day before us. And as I listened to their stories, I became more excited about what was to follow. Along with the hope that Sana is feeling better, and that we get to interact with them even if it’s just a few seconds.

Soundcheck began about a minute or two after 3 p.m. And my heart was racing so hard! They're finally in front of me after a long time of anticipating seeing Twice!

At the same time, the entire VIP area went berserk, and they began to push their way to the front to have a closer look of the girls and to engage with them.

I tried to take a quick shot of them, but I was immediately stopped by the guards, and when I witnessed individuals being escorted out of the stadium, I became terrified and decided not to risk being tossed out. It was a mess, really. Someone even lost their footwear!

(credits to Rina for this screenshot):

As soon as I saw a glimpse of Sana’s beautiful wavy hair and pretty face, I forgot the pain in my legs! She really is beautiful!

But since I spent a scary amount of time watching her videos, I noticed that something's wrong. She’s not like her usual self, and mostly stayed at the left side of the stage (we were standing at the right side). Even her eyes are not glowing like before. We started to get worried because we know that their schedule is no joke, and she might be really tired at this point.

If you hadn't already guessed, yes, I am a Sana-biased fan.

So seeing that my bias was not in the mood is worrying, but I can see that she did her best, and still interacted with fans.

The soundcheck lasted around ten minutes and consisted of only three songs; by the time it was over, we were already closer to the stage due to the pushing. So, while it was frightening, it was also a blessing in disguise.

Maybe you’re wondering about my first impression with Twice members, I’ll get into that later.

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THE CONCERT.

The VCR changed without warning. Ignoring the discomfort in my legs, my excitement shot through the roof as I realized the moment I had been waiting for had arrived. The time has come for me to see and hear Twice live for the first time with their full costume.

“I’m about to hear the group that I have enjoyed listening to for years.” I thought to myself.

I loved the way they were unveiled to the stage, and then the screen showed them all lined up, looking all serious and ready to rock my world. The feeling of adrenaline and happiness rushed within me as they walked and line up for their Set Me Free performance.

Instantly felt myself sweating from the time they finished their first song, maybe because: 1. The spotlights were really intense, and 2. TWICE PERFORMANCE WERE SO HOT!

The screen showed a very lovely Kim Dahyun starting the routine, and my mind flashed back to the first time I saw her. She was truly wacky and one-of-a-kind, and I never imagined (though I really hoped) that I would watch them one day, let alone in another country.

I remembered the girl beside me trying to help me capture moments, since my hands were already hurting due to fatigue, and the people in front of me were really tall. I know that this will never reach her, but I just want to say thank you.

I Can’t Stop Me was next. I’m still in a daze, but I couldn’t help but sing along with Nayeon’s “Allami ullyeodae ring, ring-a-linga” and as soon as the pre-chorus started with Sana’s heavenly vocals singing, “Maeumsogeuroneun da algo itjanha, gyeolgugeneun seoneul neomge doel georaneun geol”, I lost it. As much as I hate to admit it, I really loved Sana’s moves during that part, and I spent an insane amount of time watching fancams and dance videos of ICSM because of that part.

And just like that, they finished their first two songs and started with their first ment. The crowd was screaming as soon as they introduced themselves.

I was just standing there, thinking to myself, “Woah, they are real people. I just saw them perform, and I’m not dreaming at all.”

The lights changed and Jeongyeon’s voice echoed throughout the whole arena, as she sang the first lines of “Go Hard”. And I know that it will be hot, and of course the red lights are not helping at all. They were in perfect sync, and you can’t help but think about how much time they spent perfecting the choreography.

This was followed by More and More, which showed a dreamy image of them sitting on ladders while performing choreography. They walked towards the extended stage halfway through the song, and seeing how hard they danced to it, followed by Moonlight Sunrise and Brave felt surreal.

It was as though they were completely different individuals on stage than their regular effervescent personas.

And then finally, Dahyun, Tzuyu, Sana, Momo and Mina exited the stage, while Chaeyoung, Jihyo, Jeongyeon and Nayeon stayed to talk to us a bit more as the first group of solo performers prepared for their stages.

I won’t go into detail about all of the performances, but I will tell you what I felt the first time that I saw the girls.

──────────────────── ♡❤♡ ────────────────────

FIRST IMPRESSIONS.

Im Nayeon.

I must admit that I understand where her confidence comes from when she confidently declares that she is the most beautiful, because she truly is pretty. And the way she hits those high notes, is like a blessing to our ears. Unfortunately I was unable to take as many videos and photos of her because I was distracted by my bias the whole time.

Yoo Jeongyeon.

I WAS STUNNED. She has such a little and lovely face that all you can do is stare at her. But her voice, oh God, her voice is so powerful that I couldn't help but regret not joining the fandom earlier and missing the opportunity to hear her perform One in a Million live. 

Hirai Momo.

Dance God with barbie-like features. She was always smiling and waving at our side of the stage, and I saw how cute she interacts with fans. Momo has a captivating stage presence and appears to be in her own universe while she performs. This is due to her intense focus on her performance in her aim to provide her audience with the best spectacle possible.

Park Jihyo.

She is a force to be reckoned with. Her high precision dance maneuvers electrify the audience, and she sings with the passion of a firebird. Her high notes are like pearls, each one more valuable than the last . She is unquestionably the best leader Twice can ask for.

Myoi Mina

On stage, she is a queen, her presence imposing and her aura irresistible. When she exits the stage, she returns to her modest self, kind and unassuming to the point where she was surprised that people screamed her name so much because of her sensual performance. Her facial features are delicate and ethereal that you can look at her all day long.

Kim Dahyun.

Her performance of "Try" is a work of art, a beautiful blend of power and emotion. Her smile is like a ray of sunshine, filling the room with warmth. Above all, she embodies quirkiness, with her half-moon eyes that twinkle like stars in the night sky. They crinkle at the corners as she grins, like crescent moons reflecting her warmth, kindness, and playful spirit..

Son Chaeyoung

She walks confidently onto the stage, her dimples flashing like two crescent moons, adding touch to the whimsy of her beauty. Her vocals are sometimes overlooked, yet she has a distinct and expressive voice that complements her song "My Guitar" well. She reminds me of a chameleon, always altering her style and look while being true to herself. Her raps were like fire, igniting the passion of her fans.

Chou Tzuyu

When she threw water at us, it felt like we were blessed. It is true that when you look at her beauty, you couldn’t help but stare and wonder if the one in front of you is a real person or a goddess. A celestial beauty descended from the heavens. Her beauty combined with humility and kindness is a true gift to the world. We really need more Tzuyus in the world. She may be the youngest, but her exquisite movements can make anyone melt.

──────────────────── ♡❤♡ ────────────────────

MINATOZAKI SANA.

I always get asked, “Who is your ultimate bias?”

And I always dodge the question, because how can I even choose?

But after seeing her perform for three days, I now have an answer. Minatozaki Sana.

Vocals. Visual. Dancer. Writer. Performer. Minatozaki Sana is all of these things. She is also the love of my life. There was no way I could begin or end my day without listening to her voice or raving over her beauty. As the three of us (Rina, Hannah, and I) discussed, we would rather feel down than see her sad. She is the embodiment of joy. If I could, I would formally thank her for her excellent timing, since every time I felt low and couldn't take another step, she would always post something or send a note in Bubble. I'm sure many people don't realize it, but Sana is a lifeboat for me on a rainy day at the ocean.

What was it like seeing her perform live?

It was like stepping into a fairy tale.

She was everything that I imagined and more. Her beauty is breathtaking, her talent is undeniable, and her aura is enticing. It felt like I was in the presence of royalty, and I knew it was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life.

The experience of filming "New Rules" was surreal. I was so used to watching her on the screen of my phone that when I did it, I couldn't believe I had the opportunity to film her personally.

──────────────────── ♡❤♡ ────────────────────

ENDING.

It was all over in a blink of an eye, and I wish we had more time to watch the girls perform, but I guess that’s just an excuse to book another VIP experience in the future, right? Unless I hit the jackpot and sponsor one of their albums in the future and get the chance to meet them up close and personal before then...

If you see this blog, it means that you also know how much I love Sana and Dahyun and their dynamic. And you also probably know how they saw our banner, and Dahyun ‘tried’ to piggyback Sana.

It was just one other thing that happened before the concert ended, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of talking about this moment. I know that my friends and family are sick of it already, but when you’ve supported an artist with your whole heart, no feeling will ever come close to the one created when you see them live and when they notice you.

No words will ever do this experience justice.

The moment that I saw Dahyun notice the banner that Hannah was holding, my heart pounded like crazy, since it was apparent that she looked around to check if Sana was near. Then, a couple of seconds later, we saw her pull Sana closer to our side, and then they did as we asked! She leaned down, and Sana tried to piggyback on her.

It was only a split second because Sana was wearing a skirt, and Dahyun, being the greenest flag of all, stopped immediately and held on to Sana’s skirt to protect her.

What's funny was due to us gaypanicking, Hannah and I were unable to get a good shot about what we experienced.

After that moment, Dahyun even did a thumbs up sign, as if asking if we were satisfied with what they did. Truly the queen of fanservice.

Everything about the experience was special. It’s moments like this that help you forget all about the things that are bothering you, the things that are weighing you down, and even if it only lasts for an hour, or even just a second, I felt happiness.

It was short and sweet but definitely a moment that I’ll remember forever and one I feel very lucky to have had.

[thewistlingbadger]

My hunter headcanons ❤️

CW: Disordered eating, mentions of sexual abuse, gender expression, neurodivergency, mentions of abuse, catholicism, etc.

Most of these are pretty wholesome and the triggering ones are super light, not detailed :)

anyway enjoy my long ass list of my hunter hcs

He is low-key clumsy. For example: Luz thought it would be a good idea to go roller skating, wrong. She spent the whole night baby sitting Hunter. First, he didn't wanna skate, then, he spent 15 standing at the edge, unsure of how to get on the floor, after that Luz had to be at his side the whole time because he wouldn't let go of the wall. The only thing stopping him from screaming and crying the whole time was his pride.

Hunter absolutely lives for velcro shoes. He hates shoes with laces because they confuse him but also because he trips all the time while wearing them. The amount of times he's fallen face first at school while wearing shoes with laces is more than he'd like to admit. Velcro shoes on the other hand are reliable, a fashion statement, and some of them even light up!!

He is willing to try anything at least once and if not, he will try it after Luz peer pressures him/annoys him for long enough.

He has a terrible fashion sense. Absolutely the worst god bless him

He's very creative. Camila looks at him and he reminds her of Luz. She loves her kiddos some much ❤️

Hates animals, except wolves (he's starting to warm up to domestic animals tho). They freak him out, he sees them as nasty, plus they're no where near as cool as wolves. (Yes this includes cardinals, he's not ready yet) Maybe he'll eventually get an interest with them but for now? No.

Likes the human concept of holidays. He thinks it cool and unique.

Dislikes the outdoors. He doesn't hate it, but i think he prefers to stay inside.

Loves headphones and earmuffs. They make him feel warm and fuzzy, they add weight to his head, overall sensory joy.

Loves soft textures (sensory joy)

He will always keep his hair short because he doesn't want to look like Belos but it's also a sensory thing

Lowkey afraid of everything lol. I think he tried to put on a brave face in front of all the other kids, but once they went back home and he stayed with Luz and her mom, his uncertainty of the realm bleeds into everything he does. It's also just his severe anxiety that makes him feel afraid all the time.

Finds human music intriguing. It fascinates him. He loves learning about all different types of music and it's history and the instruments

Camila introduces him to Latine music such as bachata, salsa, merengue, etc. He loves how it sounds. Camila has some instruments at the house and they play together

All of his likes and dislikes are a combination of experiences Luz and Camila have given him and him inheriting Luz's, Manny's, and Camila's hand me downs.

Hunter spends a lot of time doing god knows what. Making clothes, goofing off, having me time, and especially going through storage. He learns stuff from their storage like human stuff and just Noceda family shit.

His music taste and a lot of other things about him are from the boxes in the basement.

He loves coffee

He doesn't go anywhere without his CD Walman (which was originally Manny's)

All tv shows and movies he's seen are bc he found DVDs in the basement. He lives off 90's sitcoms, nick jr's episode Manny made on a custom CD, and seasons of 2010's Disney channel original shows

He loves Disney channel original movies. His current favorites are invisible sister and teen beach movie. However, Luz introduces him to a new movie every week so it changes a lot.

He's fascinated with animation he finds it stunning. His favorite Disney movie is tangled. Yes he's a Rapunzel kinnie, but he ln general he loves all animation.

He decides to stay in the human realm with Luz. He could have stayed in the basement but he didn't even last a night. He went to Luz's room, and he's been staying there ever since

Being in the human realm gives him the opportunity to heal his inner child. He spends most of his time enjoying kids shit. His favorite human book so far is probably one from the kids section of the library. On his side of the room he has posters and a night light and glow in the dark stars, etc.

He loves glow in the dark things it's a marvel it's like magic to him, hence the admiration for sketchers that glow in the dark.

Lost his fucking mind when he found out playaways were a thing, he absolutely loves them.

Loves living in Connecticut. It's quiet and cold and everything he could have ever hoped for in a home.

Wants to know more about the Dominican republic. Dreams of going there

Wears sunblock religiously. Takes all earth problems seriously even tho to Luz they don't seem too dangerous. He's out here taking gummy vitamins y'all he thinks it's that serious

Likes washing his hair in warm water (sensory joy)

Only shops in the clearance part of stores

Loves learning languages (even if he's not good at it)

Loves crayons. Loves coloring books. Loves stickers.

Would probably get along well with the pines twins from gravity falls

Loves astrology, he thinks the stars are so fucking cool. He and Luz spend weekends charting constellations on the ceiling of their shared room

He's a total scene kid

He's soooo into arts and crafts skskksks

He's really insecure about his looks

He dyes his hair brown so he can look for like a Noceda.

But i think he does just dye his hair in general. I think he's a highlights and streaks kinda guy

He has a hard time eating and i think it's a combination of things. I think he definitely had eating problems before but it's really clear in the human world. Human food is weird to him. Luz assures him that they'll find something that will be good for him, whether it's meals from different cultures or liquid meals, they'll figure something out.

Camila takes a day to explain food to him, like "here's where our food comes from, here's where it was before, come help me cook this so you can see how it's made," and that not only puts his mind at ease but it's that start of cooking/baking hobby

He alternates between calling Camila her name and Mrs. Noceda. He feels more comfortable calling her Mrs. Noceda but he recognizes that she wants to be called Camila. She's not really that bothered by it anymore, she just wants him to be comfortable

He spends a lot of time with Camila at first because hunter isn't really ready to go to school and he's not on level with all the other 16 years olds. Camila's worried he'll always be really behind but she makes sure he doesn't know

Camila loves hunter. He's so different from Luz it's a different experience. With hunter she's gentle and calm. She doesn't know everything that happened, but she knows this little boy was wronged in the past and she wants to make it up to him

Hunter helps out at the vet a lot. Camila thinks it's a good experience and he'll learn things

Tries to do well at school, is probably not doing too well tho lmao. He doesn't understand the social shit of school and who's he gonna ask for help? Luz and Camila? They don't understand either. I think he does well in PE. It reminds him of the training he did for the emperor's coven. But he doesn't understand the games. Dodgeball? Capture the flag? Hunter gets a lot of weird looks.

He doesn't have any friends other than Luz, and he's ok with that. Everyone thinks he weird. Him and Luz stick together, even tho Luz is finally making friends of her own. They're inseparable. Someone tries to fuck with Luz, hunter is waging war and vise versa.

Has no rhythm. Will not dance unless Luz makes him, Camila asks, he's playing Just Dance, or he's really happy and feeling himself. Luz is the happiest when he's the later.

Thinks word searches are diabolical.

Has conflicting thoughts on board games. Hates chess but likes checkers. Likes battleship but not connect 4. Still getting the hang of dominoes.

Has a collection of stuffed animals

Watches kids cartoons

Loves feminine things. But he's slowly easing into it bc some things he's not ready for/not used to. Part of him thinks make up is cool and the other part doesn't like how it physically feels on his face. It's a process. Luckily for him, the Noceda family is patient and accepting!

Luz holds his hand figuratively and little during everything she loves him to bits and pieces

He is very emotional. He cries a lot ❤️

Luz is his #1 defender and Camila is his #1 cheerleader

Has a love hate relationship with Legos

Likes soup. Likes salad. Doesn't like pasta, but likes to cook it. Loves Dominican food tho

Is learning guitar.

Loves lady gaga. Favorite songs include Judas, paparazzi, rain on me, etc.

He's probably a swiftie

Definitely likes instrumental music

Is on anxiety medication. Should be in therapy but i don't think he is. Camila doesn't really have the funds for it, hunter isn't warm to the idea of therapy, and he wouldn't be able to tell the whole truth since he can't expose the magic realm. Luz talked him into going to a youth support group for victims of abuse. Luz goes with hunter to those meetings to help him too.

Yes i think hunter was abused by belos and i also think he is a victim of sexual abuse (at belos' hands? Idk)

Does boxing

Has a terrible singing voice but likes to sing. He's in choir at school, definitely not a band or orchestra kid

Terrified of spiders, roaches, and bee like bugs. Everything else is pretty ok

Still does parkour

Likes playgrounds

Volunteers

So petty and passive aggressive

Is initially afraid of rollar coasters and attractions at theme parks but after a few rides he likes it

Likes fruit flavored things

Doesn't like cold desserts. Coming to terms with flan. I'm not sure if he likes sweet things in general tbh

Loves pastries. Loves baking

Prefers warm over cold foods

Likes posters

Loves Disney princesses, like, so fucking much. He admires and looks up to all of them so much i can't explain it-

Not into video games. Luz tries to get him into it and all it does is make him made when he looses sksksks

He's really into self exploration at the moment.

He can ask Luz anything and she'll say yes every time

He thinks live music is cool, but he is sensitive to loud noise. He stops enjoying live music when it's so loud he can feel the vibrations in the air

He wasn't afraid of heights until he got to the human world lmao

Definitely owns wolf ears and wolf tail (I'm afraid my dear boy is slowly becoming a furry)

Loves Shakira

Luz gave him a book on wolves for his birthday it is his favorite thing ever

Has/will probably consume every single bit of wolf content to ever exist (probably not for the better). He's one of those "now that i know i like it i must have ALL of it!"

They to to a indoor trampoline place fore luz's birthday 🥺🥺🥺 he smiles so much 🥺🥺🥺

Absolutely, fucking, HATES the dentist. One fear and one fear only, and it's dentists.

Loves baggy sweaters and big jeans. If it's not loose, he's not putting it on.

Has no idea about gen z culture. Luz trying to explain it to him makes it worse

Lowkey doesn't like technology/not into it t

Loves candles and artificial air fresheners

Can sew and can knit/crochet

Tries to cover scars with makeup after awhile

Asks Camila what she would have named Luz if she were a boy. When Camila adopts him, he changes his name to that

Converts to catholicism. It starts with Camila giving hunter a golden cross necklace for his birthday. "It'll protect you." He doesn't really understand what she means. Luz has a cross above the door in her room and a rosary on her desk. She does a sign of the cross every night before she goes to bed. He asks her about it, and she tries to explain it. He goes with them to church and surprisingly, he likes it. He minds praying soothing. It puts his mind at ease. "I guess after belos, i needed a new cause"

I'm not sure if he's the best driver ever or the worst driver ever. He's very into following the rules, however, i also feel like he'd be really bad at it lmao

Very stubborn. Thinks he can do everything on his own, even when it's not safe.

Very competitive too

Learning to be impulsive and to do stupid shit for fun (yes Luz is a bad influence)

He's very lucky to have Luz as a sister. She really pushes him out of his comfort zone and she's the reason he becomes more outgoing

He likes some musicals. He thinks they're a weird idea, but he's kinda intrigued. I think he likes wicked, be more chill, and phantom of the opera. Luz is introducing him to more stuff

I do think him and Luz play a lot your honor. I do think she went "I'm no longer an only child!" And fucking ran with it and suddenly, she's a little kid again! They go to the playground to swing and play tag and chase each other and throw frisbees and balls and shit she really said "i WILL turn you into THE american poster child!"

Hunter is genuinely terrified of eda's owl form and he openly admits how horrifying she is. But over time he starts to become fascinated by it, but he's doing his best to hide it lol.

Him and Luz are taking martial arts together

Genuinely i do think that they just do everything together they're inseparable.

He doesn't really access the internet but when he does, he sure is under parental controls. I mean c'mon if this kid knew about mitski we'd all be in huge shit

Every Christmas the Nocedas have a Christmas photoshoot, in which Luz and hunter dress in formal traditional Dominican outfits/just formal Christmas outfits. You know the dress I'm talking about

He loves build a bear

He has a hard time processing audio, emperor's coven type shit. He has a hard time understanding what is being said

He sleeps on the bottom bunk

Him and Luz talk during movies. They huddle on the couch, a bowl of popcorn and a blanket, shoulders and heads touching they're so close. They have no idea what's going on and no amount of squinting is gonna fix that lmao

Where they differ: hunter is quiet and Luz is loud

Hunter will see a character that he kins, and not understand why he is so mesmerized by this character. He starts doing all these things to make him more like the character and he's like "haHA this is normal!" He starts subconsciously dressing like them, practicing their lines in the shower, he really is a silly lil guy

He keeps calling willow captain because he genuinely cannot remember her name, it's also a respect thing. Willow doesn't mind, in fact, she makes sure people don't correct him sksksksk

He's formal like that. He'll call his teachers "professors" and the school nurse "doctor", yeah skskskks

Luz will often put the blame on hunter lmao. Camila will ask why Luz go detention, and Luz will go "um... HUNTER FAILED HIS TEST TODAY!" to drastic their mom lmao

HE KINS RAPUNZEL SO FUCKING MUCH TANGLED AND BOLT ARE SOME OF HIS FAVORITE MOVIES HE RELATES TO THEM SO MUCH

Camila will tell him something, and then hunter will do it repeatedly, even when Camila has already told him to stop. It's the solider in him

Hunter 1000% thinks kissing is gross.

NGL when Amity and hunter found out germs were a think they were like "🤮 take me back TAKE ME BACK!"

Luz and hunter have watched arcane together. Luz likes vi and hunter likes jinx, they both hate silco

Luz likes the book of life hunter likes Coco

Hunter likes human history! I think he has a good grade in that class

I think he has a crush on Bowser from Mario, but is completely unaware of what a crush is. It's a silly phase that pases soon enough

Luz suggests hunter learn ASL so he can communicate when he goes nonverbal/doesn't wanna talk. They practice together and one day, Luz notices that his smile is different. She asks what's wrong, and hunter says "it's like magic" (context: the hand motions of signing reminds him of the spells mages would cast in the demon realm)

Hunter hates all the blights and they hate him. Except for Edric, who is curious about hunter. Their conversations often go like "so....where you from-" "leave me the fuck alone, blight"

Hunter and Edric rivalry when?

Doesn't like Pokémon, it's too confusing for him

But he probably likes digimon lmao

He has a book of farm animals with the voices in it sksksksk he's like "the cow goes...moo? This is so odd"

He likes cheeseburgers

OH HE LOVES THE MOVIE TURNING RED

He and Luz probably cosplay together and go to cons

Hunter still calls Luz "human"

Luz says "hunter, you're my brother" and bc hunter doesn't really understand what she means he goes "yeah, you're my brother too"

THEY'RE ADHD/AUTISM SIBLINGS!!!!

[vivaldiny]

TBoI headcannons/AU (I guess)

So, uhh, to the reason I got an account here💀

Me and @hyafrok were talking about how we'd approach making a TBoI AU, and I felt the need to share my, uhh, headcanon/AU stuff with someone else.

Just a bit of a warning: I might have unintentionally drawn inspiration from some ideas I've seen, so I apologise in advance if something seems similar to other AUs.

I also apologise if I sound unsure or if my wording is a bit wonky. I don't always have a specific interpretation of stuff from the game, plus expressing my thoughts in English is harder.

So, I think I can begin with saying that I prefer to keep a bit closer to canon, and it's more of a "how i would adapt game mechanics if I were to write a story" thing. 

I guess the main difference is that all characters except dead versions of Isaac are separate individuals. But are they born from the mind of Isaac or are they real? I'd actually leave it up to the interpretation.

Oh, and important note: their age for me is vague, but it's definitely not five. I'll be calling them children in this post, but they are closer to the teenagers, I guess. Or young adults.

As for the other things...

Basement and all other locations do come from the subconscious of Isaac. In fact, they would feel like something out a fever dream. A seemingly endless maze full of weird rooms, with strange creatures and items that sometimes look like they represent your experiences... Almost no character knows how this whole place works and why they're here in the first place.

Each floor is huge, by the way. So much so that multiple characters might not even meet one another.

Everyone has very little memory of coming to the Basement. They remember their past lives and veeery vaguely remember circumstances that led them to ending up in this weird place.

Characters don't use tears and rely on weapons instead. Or their ability to run away and/or distract the inhabitants of the Basement for long enough.

Keys, bombs and coins are the real thing, hearts... I'm not sure, actually. They represent different thing in the game (like blue hearts being assosiated both with holy protection, the feeling of comfort and the dead) so I feel like it'd be individual. For now, I'd treat red heart pickups as something akin to the food and blue/black ones as something closer to magical items - they dissipate on touch and create sort of an aura. They're also signs of divine/infernal protection aaand they might influence emotions (blue hearts make you feel comforted and/or happier, while black ones' effects range from the feeling of emptiness to the enhancement of negative emotions... or hidden urges. The damaging properties of the latter are also linked to the bearer's pain or hatred towards attackers). As for the starting hearts, it depends on a character.

By the way, finding pickups is more like randomly stumbling upon a lost item. Or finding it in your pockets sometimes. Anyway, they don't just... drop.

Characters need to eat and drink. Luckily, red hearts are a good food source. As for water, it can be obtained from the "wild" or bought in shops/arcade rooms. ...Yes, both these rooms additionally provide commodities.

Since there are no tears, some items have no effects and are just subproducts of the subconscious... and a source of trauma and/or confusion for some characters (would there be an episode of Cain finding Abel? Maybe). Other items, however, retain their effects and serve as a sort of amulets.

There are no heart container increases. Food is, well, food and all other items are more about regeneration or increased endurance.

Most active items and tarot should be channeled (and yes, not all characters might get the hang of it as fast). Other require a specific interaction (like throwing a dice). Actives also probably have different compatibility with different characters. Yes, these'd require some experimentation to understand how they work.

Satan exists. He's, however, not really evil: he just needs hearts/souls to keep Sheol running and... well, I think anyone would be pissed if a bunch of kids broke into their place, killed their demons and had the audacity to come directly to them.

Angels also exist, and they are willing to help as long as you don't bomb them. Why are they suddenly aggressive in the Cathedral? Well, I think anyone would be pissed if a bunch of kids broke into their cathedral, smashed all the vases and then tried to find the very source of the dungeon-

Oh, and speaking of angels and demons - Satan deals are where heart containers actually matter. With "heart up" items you can make more deals before feeling exhausted, empty and weak.

There is actually the third major force in a dungeon, and it's Ultra Greed and his greedlings. It's not clear why he surfaced in a first place, but he and his "family" are sort of dungeon keepers. Whatever is not handled by the weird dream stuff, is their job. Why are some of them suddenly aggresive? Well... That's a good question, actually. I'd personally say that some of them are just greedy assholes. As for the Ultra Greed himself, he's not particularly fond of intruders.

Aaand the last thing for now: death. Death exists, but not for the characters. Each time they die, they just go back to the beginning... while losing all of their memories. So, from their perspective they've never died and it's just an endless journey in the dungeon. However, they still might get deja vu, feel like they somehow know how things work or straight up have pieces of their memories resurface.

The only exceptions to the rule are various ressurection items. They allow the bearer to retain their memories, but the second death will work as usual, with memory wipe and all. In my head, there are only two characters that might stay undead till the end: Lazarus (the rule of death after ressurection doesn't work on him) and Judas (as a shadow).

That's probably all! I really hope that it sounds not as silly as it sounds for me, and. Yeah. Pretty nervous about it.

[sylvaridreams]

Ok here is my analysis of this scene.

Canach: He doesn't appear hostile. More...confused. (...) Maybe this one sought refuge. Maybe there's something left inside.

It's very easy to paint Canach as a character who doesn't care about anyone else but this absolutely shows how incorrect that is (one example of many others.)

Braham expresses a preference of "cracking it (the mordrem sylvari) open" which makes sense for Braham's arc in HoT. Meanwhile Canach is humanizing (sylvanizing?) the fallen sylvari, attempting to attribute qualities to the mordrem that would flag it as a person, rather than a monster. HE* doesn't appear hostile, just confused. Maybe he sought refuge. Maybe he is still sylvari inside.

*as an aside, I'm reading heavily into the use of pronouns in this scene as well. Braham refers to the mordrem as an it. Canach treats the traitor as a person. It is noted that the sylvari Commander also refers to the mordrem as "he." (Unsure at this time if the other playable races do as well.)

Braham: Then let's just crack it open and find out.

Canach: No. I'm going to talk to him.

Auruim: Careful, Canach. I'm curious about what happens when one surrenders to the call too, (...)

Canach: I'll take my chances, Commander. I have to know.

1. Canach needs to know what surrendering to Mordremoth entails,

2. The sylvari Commander expresses sharing an interest in the line of thinking Canach is exploring here...

Canach: Brother? Hello...?

Once again, applying attributes of personhood to the mordrem--I think this could be read one of two ways; Canach is either treating the mordrem as a sibling (in such a manner that we rarely witness him applying to other sylvari) to butter him up and apply to whatever might be "left inside" --a show of petty manipulation towards a mind in a fragile state-- or...?

3. He is genuinely, gently aligning himself with the fallen mordrem in this scene, a "you and I are no different, and I have compassion for you" moment.

Mordrem Guard Punisher: Help me! Please! (...)

Canach: What is it? What is it like, giving in?

Mordrem Guard Punisher: It was a relief. Such a relief. I didn't want to fight it anymore. But then...I did things.

4. We know by this point in HoT that Canach is struggling to fight Mordremoth’s call, especially the closer the group gets to the dragon,

We can see that Canach is in this moment aligning himself and empathizing with the mordrem in his pain and fear,

And we can see based on the Commander sharing Canach's curiosity that both of them (I do have Alba-related thoughts on this, but not now) want to know what happens when you give in to the call...

Mordrem Guard Punisher: (...) I did things.

Canach: Of your own will?

5. And now he wants to know if mordrem can act of their own free will--

Mordrem Guard Punisher: I wanted to obey!

And we learn that the mordrem may be free enough of mind to remember and communicate these things but that they want to obey the call, and once they give in it appears that they are not just unable but unwilling to disobey,

6. And we know that Canach has been a kept sylvari for too long, that he wants his freedom back, that he would more than likely do anything to free himself from his yoke--

Canach: Do you hear it still, feel its pull?

Mordrem Guard Punisher: I do!

And does the mordrem still feel the dragon's overbearing influence on his mind, is he still suffering after giving into it? Is it better to give in, will Mordremoth’s roar in his mind go silence if he does?

But...

It will not.

Then the mordem attacks and is killed by the group. Canach brushes the experience off as having gone "as expected," but I believe at this point he is playing it cooler than he actually feels.

I posit that Canach was readying himself to give in to the dragon's call, that this conversation was him testing the waters to learn if succumbing would earn him peace and freedom or a heavier chain around his neck and a more painful burden-and that, had the mordrem not attacked them, had he instead lied and claimed bliss in the relief of freedom from the call, Canach would have reassessed fighting the jungle dragon. It is his valuing of his freedom over all else, including his own comfort that draws him back; he is not willing to run from Anise and the Blade to an even more oppressive master, one which he won't "want" to disobey.

Later, in Mordremoth’s mind, the double of Canach that the dragon creates accuses him of seeking / needing a master, which leads me to believe that Mordremoth is far from ignorant to Canach's mental struggle and exploration of the topic (and I doubt this is the only time he’s explored it. There are points in HoT where the group is nervous because he briefly wanders off alone. This may not be the only mordrem he has spoken to.) As the group reaches the dragon's domain, the call must have become unbearable to resist. Even the sylvari Commander falls to the dragon's call within its domain, no matter how briefly.

TLDR, I think that we nearly lost Canach to Mordremoth, and that his willpower stat is off the charts. Do not enter a contest of strength of will with him. You'll die.

HoT replay had me experiencing things I'd never gotten to see back in 2015 :) I have Thoughts on this interaction but 🤐

[heartfullofleeches]

I am….. in lOVE with Maddox

like I know we don’t have a lot of info on him at the mo but he is the love of my entire life (after life??)

Anyway I read your entire blog in one afternoon and I am just about to combust with all the love I have for your writings,,, if possible could I request some head canons on our dear reaper boy, please? (Maybe some NSFW content if you feel like it) thank you I appreciate and love you

Yandere Grim Reaper Oc Cannons (Nsfw + art at bottom)

(An: this became kind of a lore dump as some point)

Maddox is nonbinary (he/they)

They’re not shy, just… distant. It’s been so long since he has been around another being human or otherwise for as long as he’s been with you. As such, they find it hard to express their feelings to you and avoid you unintentionally due to trying to figure things out. Will still your belongings if you ever leave them about since he does long to be by your side 

His favorite thing item would have to be the jacket he constantly wears. They found it in your closet and something about it brings them so much joy. Maybe it’s because it reminds them of your warmth, and they have so little of their own. They have trouble sleeping if they’re not wearing it 

Since he’s used to death and despair, any positive emotion of yours sends them over the moon with joy. As a reverse, they think they struggles to comfort you in times of turmoil, but experiences with grief lead them to be a decent hand to hold

They are technically the “baby" of the grim reapers. In the lore of this universe, there are grim reapers and angels who take on the role of them as well. Grim reapers are separate from God’s creations and in charge of watching the sands of time as well as guiding lost souls to their final destination. Angels only guide them. Their official title is Twelve as they are the twelfth and known last reaper. 

Despite the last point, they tend to lose track of time quite easily in the mortal realm, especially when they are with you. Holding you for seconds feels like hours, yet that still isn’t enough for him to be satisfied.

They don’t like their human form as they were seriously injured in it in the past.

Honestly, I would argue he is the most deadly of the three living with you. While they wouldn’t outright kill a human that took a fancy to you, they would be more willing for things to happen to the hourglass attached to said person; even if it’s against the rules. On top of this, prolonged exposure to life causes odd things to happen to it, such as their lifespan jumping forward or backwards and on rare near fatal accidents. You are safe from this as you have his heart; both literally and metaphorically. He will watch your admirers soul drown into inexistence within the sands of time, unsure why it brings them peace. 

When a soul is lost there or devoured that person’s existence is erased completely. They’ll do their best to comfort you and sweep off any fleeting memories as mere dreams or memories of a friend long gone.

On a final and lighter note, they enjoy spicy foods the most

(These next cannons are nsfw. Stop here if you don’t wish to see.)

With the fact they’ve haven’t around anyone in ages, they don’t know the touch of another either. On top of that, feelings such as lust and bodily desires are new as he’s never taken human form for long. Would probably get aroused from just your first kiss.

He may do research, but would prefer you guide them yourself and let them know how to carcass you properly. You are their first, their only; they want to give you want you need as moreso.

They are notably more submissive than anything, and somewhat hesitant to touch you. These hands have only held misfortune and decay, it almost doesn’t feel right to be able to hold something like you. Aside from that, most of their fantasies just happen to involve you taking them under your control with them 

Upon becoming more comfortable overtime, they can’t keep their hands from roaming all over your body. Groping your chest, locking around your thighs; even smaller things like just holding onto yours as enough for him.

Another thing is that he lives for praise. Tell him that he’s doing a good job, promise that you’ll never leave. They come bashful that such simple words get them going so easily, but the emotions that fill them upon hearing are too great. 

[yuzukult]

bittersweet. (m) || kmg & reader

title: bittersweet. pairing: kim mingyu x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, established relationship!au word count: 3.1k warnings: dirty deed is done (aka explicit sex if you didn't catch that). profanity. prompt: you're always fighting. he doesn't get you. so why are you even still together? a/n: before any of my friends make fun of me, shaddup. anyways, this is for @/ficscafe dialogue prompt event! i'll be using #14: you make me weak.

He’s so adamant.

The crinkle in between his brows, the scrunch of his nose, and his incessant blinking from all the nerves, despite it all, he still stands firm on his beliefs.

But you’re fighting. Always fighting.

He doesn’t get you—he spends most of the time he's with you arguing about how insensitive you are as a person, how nonchalant you can be when you should be reacting with some type of emotion, and how he wished you’d been more affectionate with him.

But he doesn’t understand you. He thinks you’re selfish (sure, he didn’t outright state this, but you can sense him feeling this way.)

Albeit you’re unsure how you got yourself in this position—back flat against the wall, his hands on your wrists with his crotch pinning yours as your legs wrap around him securely to meet his gaze from the height difference.

“I need you to talk to me,” he rasps, anger filled in his voice. “I’m so tired of making this into some guessing game. Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?”

Although he’s got you cornered, rutting his hips into you once again, it's not persuasive enough. “Talk to me.”

“If you can’t figure me out, maybe we should just break up. I didn’t want to date in the first place.”

Jaw clenched, his eyes continue to melt into yours. He’s looking for anything—a sign, a glimpse, a crack in your exterior to see whatever it is you’re truly feeling inside. “Why do you always use that as a solution? Instead of just communicating?”

“Because—“ you halt, breath hitching when he shifts, the head of his cock rubbing against your bud through your thin material shorts. “—Because it’s an easier solution. What do you expect from me?”

“To tell me and show me if you like me or not. You’re like a fucking boulder. I can’t move you.”

You quirk a brow. “Your fucking holding me down right now. You’ve evidently proved you can move me elsewhere.”

“Emotionally,” he says, exasperated. “The most I can get you to feel something is when we’re fucking. I’m surprised we’re even fucking in the first place. You barely let me hold your hand!”

Rolling your eyes, you pull your arms from his hold and he lets go easily. It’s the type of person Mingyu is—he’s gentle, the complete opposite of you, with a heart of gold that everyone loves and appreciates. He’s lovable, known to many, and desired by them all, and somehow, you got him in your grasp and truthfully… you’re not sure what to do.

He’s fragile, but you have rough hands with toughened skin from years of experience and encounters. There’s this fear that you’ll drop him, shatter him into pieces as brittle as chinaware. So you hold the front, keep yourself strong with a facade tougher than concrete, because you’re afraid if you hold on too tight, he might break. And at the same time, he might break you too.

“You wanna know why?” You finally blurt, words firm and sharp. “Because you make me weak. And I don’t like being weak. I don’t like being known as weak. And you—you do that to me. I hate it.”

He furrows his brows. “I make you weak? The one girl I know to be the most resilient?” Mingyu has to scoff in disbelief because it’s the first time he’s hearing this. “You realize how insane you sound? It’s okay to have feelings for me. It’s why we’re together.”

Nose twitching, you suck in your cheeks. “I hate it. I hate this. I hate that when you turn to look at me in the morning, you give me that fucking… smile. Like I’m your whole world. Like you’re head over heels for me and I’m all that you see.”

“And why do you hate that?”

“Because, some part of me, deep down into the abyss, wants to look at you like that too.”

His jaw loosens, just like the restraints he had over his heart in the past hour of arguing, hands now finding purchase on your thighs to pull you back up closer. “Baby…” he calls out for you softly, the term of endearment nearly bursting your heart, but you keep yourself calm and collected as you normally do. “Then do it. Why are you so scared?”

“I told you.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“Well, it’s good enough for me.”

He heaves a heavy breath. “Baby, I can’t keep doing this. I feel like I’m chasing you but I’m getting nothing out of it.”

Then, you reiterate the same words you’ve said multiple times, but there’s never any genuinity in it because you never actually… meant it. “Then let’s break up.”

“We’re not breaking up.”

“Then what do you want to do? Tell me. If breaking up isn’t the option, then tell me instead of having me up the wall if we’re not gonna fuck.”

“Fucking only happens when you’re pissed or when you’re making up.”

“So, what now?”

It’s Mingyu’s turn to roll his eyes. “We make up. I need you to talk to me. I can barely read you—the only thing I know for sure is that you don’t want this to end because you just admitted to me that you wanna look at me the same way I look at you.”

Frustrated, you let your head drop onto the wall behind you. “This is annoying. I don’t like expressing stuff. You just take what you get or leave. If you can’t figure out what’s going through my mind, what’s the point? Why put in the effort?” Eyes fluttering shut, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a ball and just… hide. Despite being fully clothed, you feel naked when Mingyu asks for more. And what he’s asking for isn’t even unreasonable—you’re just horrible at telling people what you’re feeling. “I just… why can’t I just let you lay your head on my lap when you get home from work? Or… cook dinner with you. Even have it ready when you have long nights at work. Maybe even fold your laundry—I don’t know. I don’t like PDA but if you asked me, I’d hold your hand under the table. Or… hold it in your pocket on cold days.”

Then, Mingyu stays silent (for the first time).

It finally hits.

You’re not outspoken when it comes to soft things. You’re loving but not in the same way he is. You’re also honest and straightforward about everything except when it comes to admitting feelings for him.

And for once, when you say those words, he… he feels loved by you.

He remembers those days—after spending hours at the gym despite having a long work day, he’d come home and you’re there waiting for him on the couch so you could shower together. You’d help scrub his limp body, even though he moans and groans about how sore he is, but you do it nonetheless because you like him. Or when you stopped by at his apartment, one he shares with all his friends, because he was stuck with helping one of them build their beds and you brought them all, including himself, lunch. And that wasn’t to mention you were already working twelve hour days.

“Can you answer one question for me, then? I won’t force you to tell me again. I just need to hear it once.”

Your eyes open, and it feels like a mistake because your heart drops into your stomach. His gaze is hypnotizing, like he’s got you in a trance, and you respond with a ‘yes’ without much thought because of him.

Mingyu swallows all his anxiety before asking that million dollar question.

“Do you love me?”

Although you feel small being put on the spot like that, the one thing you’ll admit is that you’ve already predetermined the answer to this. And just as much courage as Mingyu puts into asking, you’ll reciprocate and do the same in answering because he’s admirable for even trying.

“Yes.”

Without much thought, he presses his lips against yours. You love him, although you rarely if not never say it, but you finally said those words and all he needs is to hear it just once for assurance. To know that there’s something he’s chasing for, that he’s not running in place like on a treadmill.

Arms snaking around his neck, you keep your hold there as his hands reach to your jaw, leveraging the kiss in an angle he’d prefer. When you kiss, he feels complete. He’s never felt like this with another girl before, this feeling of home, the feeling of comfort. You’re colder than brisk winters, but something about having you in his arms makes him warm.

Your fingers comb through his locks, and although it’s doused in gel and spent hours on doing this morning, he doesn’t mind because he knows he’s yours. When you kiss him back, he’s as anxious as he was when he had to go on stage and perform in front of people for the first time.

Gently pulling away, both your lips are pink and swollen with a string of saliva connecting between. Pants brushing against each other’s face, a soft smile tugs on the edges of your lips as you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“I love you too,” he says, as low as a whisper. “And… I’m okay if you don’t say it again. You know how I show you that I love you… and I should’ve been better at learning what you’re comfortable with in showing how you love. But I still need you to help, too, to make this… better. I need you to talk to me, when you need me. When I need you. I need you to be here for me too.”

“Okay,” you respond, volume matching his. “If that’s the case, I love you. Just… as another reminder since I only said yes the first time.”

He lets out a chuckle, vibrating from his chest and everything about him makes your heart race. “Good. Can I show you how much I love you?”

“No,” you retort quickly and bashfully. But he knows you’re playing because you nod afterwards, allowing him to carry you to the couch. “Maybe.”

“I need a yes, love,” Mingyu says cheekily, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You know I’m not going to go any further until I hear it.”

“Yes,” you reply embitterly, but Mingyu knows better now. He knows what you want, because all he needed was assurance. “Please show me how much you love me.”

And fuck, because he never knew how much he needed to hear those words all his life.

You’re so pretty when he has you stripped down to nothing, laid out on the leather couch of your living room; hair messy, mouth gaped open from all his teasing, and with an arm covering your face because it’s all too much for you. Mingyu is a passionate lover, you’ve come to recognize, and although it’s all an unfamiliar territory, you love him and you’re willing to step into the unknown.

“How am I doing?” He asks, as if he doesn’t have his head in between your legs and a grip on the meat of your thighs. He loves the taste of you, he reminds you plenty of times, but dirty talk coming from such an innocent face makes you slightly embarrassed. “Feels good?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, avoiding his infatuated stare. “Just… just fucking do it, you asshole.”

“What? Show you how much I love you?”

There’s a tornado in the pit of your stomach. He keeps saying things that make you awkward because you’ve never been loved like how Mingyu loves.

You don’t react, and this displeases him. Laying his tongue flat out against your cunt, he gives you another lick that lets a whimper escape from your lips. “Tell me, baby. Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes,” you croak, only because you feel like he’s got you in this position for so long. You’re so exposed, and he at least has his boxers to protect him like a shield, but you’re all out in the open. (Not to mention his fucking built body. He makes you feel so insecure about yours—how is this puppy looking boy so… wide? What the fuck?) “Can you… can you take that off?”

He leans up, tilting his head in confusion and now you can see how hard he is in his undergarments. “My… my boxers?”

“Yeah. I feel like… I’m the only one exposed here.”

He laughs. “Baby, we’ll get to that.”

“Now.”

Mingyu snorts. “Anything my baby wants.” He bumps foreheads with you gingerly, something he's always done playfully, and tugs off his boxers swiftly as requested. “Let me make you cum first and—“

“No,” you interject, eyes closed and biting down on your bottom lip. It's the only way to remain bold—to not look him in the eye because he’ll melt you like a stick of butter left on the kitchen counter. “Show me how you love me.”

Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to shuffle quickly through the little stash hidden on the first shelf underneath your coffee table (he likes to be prepared in every situation even though this is your apartment) and finally spots the condom he hid a week ago. Tearing it open rapidly, he gives himself a couple pumps that have beads of precum building at the top and slips the rubber on with ease. “Ready?”

“For you?” Mingyu gulps, because before today, you’ve rarely said anything that made his heart stutter. “Anything.”

With a push of the head of his cock into your heat, a quiet wince escapes from your lips and his chocolate orbs are saturated in apologies. He doesn’t want you to feel pain, especially not you, but even his efforts to loosen you up beforehand, you still manage to be so tight around him every time. It feels good to have you around him snugly, yet he knows the consequence of the beginning is the ache in between your legs from the first intrusion.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Mingyu presses a tender kiss on your forehead. “Bear with me, yeah?”

“Mm,” you hum dismissively, warming up when he finally slides himself all the way in. He stills, in fear that you’re hurt, but instead, you’re surprisely impatient as you cross your legs behind him and pull him close. Bringing your lips close to his ears, you breathe, “fuck me, baby.”

Mingyu laughs brightly, and your jaw clenches. “What?”

“After today, I’m not going to fuck you.” You quirk a brow. “I’m gonna make love to you.”

“Don’t make me throw up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins mischievously before pulling out and shoving himself back in swiftly that earns a groan from you. “Oh? Am I?”

“Stop playing, Mingyu,” you state sternly, but Mingyu is enjoying himself too much. “Or else you're not getting any for the month.”

Well, that does the trick.

He has his hands on your hips, pushed down against the seat cushions of your loveseat couch, hips once flushed against yours now thrusting into your throbbing pussy. God, you’re fucking done for, honestly, because he’s a pro with his hips when he angles it just right that he’s brushing against your swollen clit, hitting so deep into you.

“Fuck—“

“You curse too much, baby,” Mingyu puffs, pecking the side of your lips sloppily. “Everyone thinks I’m such a nice guy and when they meet my—fuck—g-girlfriend and find out how much of a dirty mouth she has, they’re always struck.”

“Too fucking bad,” you spit, fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. He’s so big, stretching you with each shove, but you’d never tell him that or his ego would inflate. “Stop talking and fuck me harder.”

Mingyu loves. He loves and loves, and although you won’t pretend that he comes to your home often with crumpled pieces of papers with girls’ names and numbers on them that fall into the catch-all bowl by the door with his keys, you don’t forget that besotted daze he falls into the moment he sees you. So when you ask for something, he delivers without fail.

Abiding by your urge, his hips move briskly, pistoning into you as fast as he can. Biceps tense, you can’t help but let your hands slip there, gripping onto the muscle and has you wondering fuck, how did you get so lucky? He’s hot, cute, sweet, loving and geez, he could fuck. He’s so clumsy, so dumb sometimes, but he’s so freaking lovable it makes you sick. Lovesick.

His pretty eyes shut close, you notice, because those two cups of hot chocolate are gone and he’s chewing on his bottom lip as he groans, ends of his hair that brush over his eyes now drenched in sweat. His skin glistens underneath the dim lights, and he reminds you of the stars in the night sky—so gorgeous, so special. Always a sight to see.

“Fuck,” the not-so-innocent boy curses (even though he just said you curse too much) “Baby, you just got so tight. Are you about to cum?”

“Possibly,” you manage to say, still attempting to play games even though Mingyu could very so threaten to steal your orgasm away from the tip of your fingers. But when he slightly shifts in the midst of his pounding, you let out a raspy, “Almost,” because he’s rubbing against your nub incessantly that you’re losing all your focus.

When you finally see those stars, you let go.

Mingyu feels this, grunting when you convulse around his dick, head dropping to watch you tug and tug around him, begging for him to cum. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long because after a couple thrusts, he stills, spilling ropes of cum into the condom and dropping the entirety of his weight onto you, face snug into the crook of your neck once again.

“I—“

“You’re heavy.”

“Fuck, baby, we just had sex and that’s the first thing you say?”

He can’t see you, but there’s a smile on your face. “Yeah. And you got my couch all sticky from your sweat. Not to mention the cum. Are you gonna clean it after?”

Mingyu doesn’t care. He’s blissful. He’s happy. He knows you’re going to toss a damp rag at him later, despite his dick out and still drenched in your arousal, and tell him to ‘wipe down the fucking couch because that’s gross.’

All because he knows that you love him.

[demonsandco]

I searched through your blog and I'm honestly so surprised you don't have more Simeon content. That being said, if you're still doing it, can I get the WHOLE smut alphabet for Simeon?

You’re right! It’s a shame cause he’s very much one of my favorites now that we get to see more of him in game! Normally I wouldn’t do the entire alphabet like this because it’s… a lot, but Simeon deserves it uwu. This is nearly 3000 words, which makes it my longest post yet by a long shot!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Simeon is such a sweetheart after sex. He’s not actually sleepy, but his limbs feel like jelly and he’s full of so many soft, loving emotions. All he wants to do is keep his partner close in his arms, slyly stealing kisses from their lips and whispering words of love in their ear. He’s not eager to get up or move at all, but he’s willing to have a bath or grab some water if they join him. Sex leaves him feeling rather emotional and vulnerable, and he really just wants to feel them near him and hear their voice.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Simeon’s favorite part of his body is his hands. He wears gloves often to protect them, leaving his skin feeling so soft and smooth. He’s a very hands on type of person, and he’s quite skilled with them, too. One of his favorite things to do during sex is run his hands up and down his partner’s sides, feeling their warmth under his palms.

In turn, Simeon loves every part of their body. If he had to pick just one part, though, it would be their eyes. He’s a firm believer in the saying that “eyes are the windows to the soul” and he could lose himself in their gaze. He’s fond of maintaining eye contact, watching their expression shift as they get close and memorising the different shades and tones that make up their eye color.

(Cont under the cut)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Simeon cums so much, both in quantity and frequency, but he hates the messiness of it. It feels good in the moment, but it gets cold and sticky way too quickly for his liking. He really likes to see his partner covered in his cum, as though he marked them as his in a way only the two of them would know about, but he’s always quick to help clean them up before it gets uncomfortable.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Simeon really doesn’t have anything that he would call a dirty secret. All the sexual experiences he’s had in the past have been quite tame and he’s very much not the type of person to feel ashamed about his past actions or keep them secret. He’s an open book when it comes to relationships and sex.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, angels are allowed to have sex. As long as it doesn’t impact their duties, angels can do whatever they want with their private lives, and Simeon very much took advantage of that. He’s had quite a few partners in the past, especially before the war took place. His original rank as a Seraph gave him a lot of popularity among other angels. His experiences have taught him a lot about how to make his partner feel good in many different ways, but he never really had the chance to figure out what he enjoys. There’s a huge opportunity for them to experiment with his body and to teach him more than just the basics.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Simeon is really open to experimenting and trying out new positions, so he doesn’t have just one favorite. However, the positions he enjoys most are ones where he can see his partner’s face, especially if the position lets him pull them against his chest when he feels the need for closeness. He’s open to just about any position, though, even if it seems rather absurd at first.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Simeon isn’t goofy enough to ruin the moment, but his playful nature definitely shines through. If he’s in bed with someone, that means he feels close to them emotionally, too, so he feels comfortable enough to not stay serious all the time. Sometimes things go wrong in the moment or something silly gets said out loud on accident. He doesn’t see anything wrong with laughing it off or jokingly teasing each other. He’s good at telling when the mood allows for some laughs and when some composure is necessary.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Being an angel, Simeon’s body is almost entirely hairless. Besides the hair on his head, the only other hair on him is a small patch above his cock and a very faint happy trail. He doesn’t enjoy the feel of shaving, but he does keep it very neatly trimmed at all times. Colour wise, it matches the hair on his head perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Simeon is quite romantic in the moment. Love and intimacy are very important aspects of sex to him, and that comes through in most of his actions. His pace, his preferred positions, everything reflects that intimacy that he craves. Through it all, he’s sweet talking to his partner, letting them know how good they make him feel, how important they are to him, and how much he loves them. He knows he might come across as too intense, but he wants to make sure they know that sex isn’t just about the physical aspect for him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Simeon rarely, if ever, feels the need to masturbate. Without a partner, sex really isn’t something he thinks about often, and if he does have a partner, he’d much rather take care of his need with them, rather than on his own. If he does end up jacking off, though, he always ends up fantasising about them, and he finds that he can’t actually cum without imagining them being there with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Unsurprisingly, Simeon has a corruption kink. It came as a huge shock to him when he first realised it, but something about having his sweet little human tempt him and lead him down a path of “sin” excites him. It feeds into his rebellious nature that he constantly tries to control. It gives him a rush of adrenaline whenever they convince him to do something shameful or lewd and he finds himself enjoying it and even craving more instead of actually feeling shame.

As well, Simeon also has a massive praise kink. He always strives to please his partner as best as he can and getting positive reinforcement, something he rarely hears normally, sends shocks of pleasure shooting down his spine. The more praise he gets, the more eager he is to be good. If he’s being bratty, praising his good behavior in the past gets him to behave much quicker than a “punishment” would.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Simeon’s preferred location is either his or his partner’s room. It’s a place that feels safe and familiar, while also offering privacy. They can take as much time as they want and be as loud as they feel like without having to worry about anyone bursting in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Getting Simeon turned on is pretty easy. All his partner needs to do is be direct with their advances. Their boldness excites him. He isn’t the type of person to get turned on by seemingly innocent actions, so their intent needs to be clear. That, alongside some suggestive touches, is more than enough to get him in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Simeon is usually open to trying anything once and there’s not a lot that he’s opposed to, but he is very serious with his boundaries. He refuses to allow sex with his partner to start impacting his day to day life. Skipping classes, missing meetings, or even risking being late to something, even if it’s not important, in favor of sex is a big no for him. He makes his boundaries very clear from the start, and will quickly become harsh if his partner doesn’t respect them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Simeon has almost no experience in oral, giving or receiving, but it quickly becomes one of his favorite things. He could spend hours between his partner’s thighs without getting bored. While he’s rather hesitant and unsure at first, he’s very skilled at reading their reactions and starts adjusting his technique to make them feel as good as possible.

He doesn’t enjoy receiving quite as much, but he still loves it! It’s so easy for his partner to make him cum or overstimulate him with just their mouth. The warm wetness of their mouth feels divine and their breath is so hot against his skin, he can’t help but cum embarrassingly quickly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Simeon greatly enjoys taking his time with his partner, keeping a slow and sensual pace and exploring every inch of their body with his mouth and hands. He’s not a fan of rushing, even as he gets closer to his peak, he keeps his pace steady, his body molding against theirs. He’s not opposed to going faster if they prefer that, but his favorite pace will always be slow and intimate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Simeon is not a fan of quickies. He’ll be open to trying it at least once, but he knows from the start that it’s not his cup of tea. The whole thing just feels so rushed and impersonal to him. The most important part of sex to him is the intimacy and emotional connections, and quickies feel very lacking in comparison. If anything, they leave him craving his partner even more than before.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Simeon is very open to experimenting and he’s always excited to learn and experience new things. He’s willing to try anything once, even if it’s something that he’s pretty sure he won’t enjoy. The idea of taking risks also interests him, but it needs to only be a perceived risk for him to participate. Something like messing around in an empty classroom at RAD is exciting, but it needs to be afterhours when the school is empty and the door has to be locked for him to feel comfortable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Simeon’s stamina is not the best, at least at first. He can go for more rounds than the average human just because he’s an angel, but he’s so unbelievably sensitive that the rounds themselves are rather short. It’s been so long since he’s had anyone touch him sexually that he ended up cumming in his pants the first time he was with his partner. With time, his stamina will improve drastically, probably to the point where he could easily outlast them, but he needs some practice to get there.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys aren’t something Simeon has ever really thought about using or has ever owned. When he sees the huge variety of toys that exist, he feels excited to try them out, mostly relying on his partner’s preferences and recommendations to pick some. He quickly learns that he really enjoys having them use different toys on him and, in turn, he loves the new opportunities the toys give him when it comes to pleasuring them in return. The possessive, prideful part of him that is usually buried very much prefers making his partner feel good on his own, without toys to help, but most of the time, he doesn’t mind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The first time he teases his partner, it’s entirely accidental, his habit of going slow and taking his time exploring their body ends up making him tease them. Once he sees the way it makes them feel, though, he starts doing it on purpose, wanting to see more of their reactions. He’ll relent, with a smug little smile on his face, if they start begging, but until then, he plays the innocent card, pretending not to realise what he’s doing.

As much as he likes to dish it out, Simeon really can’t take much teasing. He’s so sensitive and desperate that he’ll start begging immediately, willing to do anything just to feel more of their touch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Simeon is naturally very loud and he lets out the prettiest sounds. At first, he tries to muffle them and keep his volume down. He talks quite a bit, at least while he’s still able to form coherent thoughts, and loves to whisper sweet things to his partner in a breathy tone. The closer he gets to cumming, the more his words devolve into delicate gasps and high pitched moans. When he cums, he lets out the longest, breathiest whine that no amount of gritting his teeth or covering his mouth could smother. He’s very vocal throughout, and without some sort of soundproofing, his voice can very much be heard through the walls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Simeon has a hard time controlling his wings during sex. He can’t focus hard enough to keep them hidden and they tend to have a mind of their own, fluttering and puffing up depending on how he feels. They’re quite sensitive in the moment too, especially at the base. In the end, he finds himself wrapping his wings around his partner as he pulls them close, keeping them warm and safe under his feathers. Unfortunately, this usually means that the bed is covered in feathers from all his flapping and wiggling.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Simeon has such a pretty cock, so perfectly smooth that it almost looks like a drawing rather than an actual dick. He’s large enough to be impressive without seeming intimidating, with just enough girth to feel like a stretch, but not be painful. It’ll still take some prep for his partner to take him, but it won’t be too difficult with some patience and plenty of lube.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Simeon’s libido isn’t very high at all, and sex isn’t something that’s on his mind constantly. What matters to him most is spending quality time with his partner, regardless of what they’re doing together. They usually need to be the one to actually initiate things, since he has no qualms with pushing down his need to avoid ruining the moment. With how much he values physical touch, it’s not hard for cuddles to become something more, and as long as there’s time for it, Simeon will never say no.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sex doesn’t exactly leave him feeling sleepy, but it does make him feel extraordinarily relaxed. He tends to follow his partner’s lead, staying awake longer if they don’t plan to sleep right away. With how warm and soft he feels, though, he has no trouble falling asleep quickly, cuddling them close to his chest to absorb more of their body heat. If it’s up to him, he prefers to share some casual pillow talk together, before falling asleep soon after. If he can avoid having to get up and be functional, he will.

[hpalways]

genshin boys confessing to you

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters included: Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya

Warning: Nothing ( Except for the fact this is the first time I’ve written something like this LOL. I apologize if this is not how you write scenarios/hcs cus uhhh idk)

Childe/Tartaglia

He wasn’t sure how to go about it. Maybe it was the way he had held himself back from you for so long -- hiding his true self like the two faced bastard he truly was. 

For the entirety of his life, he spent on the idea of chaos. Now that love had been introduced to him, it was like another new field of adventure for him to overcome. 

The last thing he expected in his lifetime was to experience romance. Albeit, you were there, wrapping him around your finger, alluring him in wholly. He had enough of his feelings eating him away, and knew that he had to confess tonight. 

You were brought to the Liyue Harbor at night. The golden lights illuminating the city was beautiful and it mesmerized you instantly. But to him? You were the more beautiful than the stupid structures that made him feel homesick. To him, you were home. 

You asked him what was wrong, but he merely shook his head, a small smile adorn on his lips to cover the fact that he was getting unnerved. 

“Come, dear Comrade. Let’s go closer to the sea.” He wanted to get you somewhere more private, away from the crowds filled of unwanted attention. His hand wrapped around your wrist and his heart instantly raced. 

You leaned your arms at the edge of the dock and turned to look at him. He was giving you another smile, but this time, his dark blue eyes were crinkled. It was one of those sheepish smiles he’d give out; the kind that was genuine and pure -- the kind he’d only wear around you. 

“Can I tell you something?” He would not wait for a response before he’d blurt it out. “I like you, [Y/N].”

Throwing your arms around him, you told him that the feeling was mutual. 

Zhongli

He couldn’t stop thinking about the mere mortal -- you. Unsure and confused as to why you had been on his mind so often lately, he decided to invite you out to tea one night. Perhaps he could ask you about it -- after all, if he couldn’t figure it out, he might as well seek out the source of his turmoil.

Sipping the tea in silence, he tasted the sweet golden liquid in delight. The warmth it gave to his body reminded him of you. Hearing gentle words or feeling the touch of your hand would usually make him feel warm inside. 

He set the teacup down and fixed his gloves, thinking deeply that his brows furrowed. Leaning on the back of his chair, he suddenly made eye contact with you. 

You sent him a grin and took another sip of the tea. He blinked in awe and tried to regain his composure. Somehow, he would always find himself letting his guard down around you... but then this would happen! 

Perhaps he was overthinking. Everyone else always said that he did, despite him not seeing it. 

Finally choosing to tell you what was on his mind, he unbottled his feelings... in a rather abstract way. “You remind me of this tea. Just as it is when I drink its delightful honied taste, you impact me exactly as that. I feel warm around you and all my worries ease away the second you smile. Do you why know I feel this way, [Y/N]?”

You raised your brows in shock. Then you joked around, saying that it sounded as if he liked you. 

Much to your further surprise, he pondered and did not laugh along. His gloved hand stroking the bottom of his chin, he stared at the wooden oak of the table in deep contempt. “I think... that might be it. I think I like you.”

Diluc

He was in love with you, but he did not know how to voice it. Seen as stoic and quiet, he preferred to push his feelings down whenever he saw you at the tavern. 

He knew your favorite drink and would always have it prepared in case you chose to visit. And whenever he told you that it was in stock, he could see and relinquish the excitement you show. 

That night, as he handed you the alcoholic drink, your fingers brushed at the exchange and his cheeks warmed at the contact. He wished you would just leave so he could pay attention to his work, but instead, you asked him to join you. 

After much pleading from you and having the case of being weak against puppy faces, he relented and joined you at the table, after asking the other worker to cover him. 

He got the usual: grape juice. You teased him for his choice and he only rolled his eyes, yet the smile made its way on his face anyway. He was taken aback when you decided to drink grape juice along with him. You were going to stay sober for him? 

This gave him another push. He wanted so badly to just let his feelings out. 

You told him that grape juice was delicious and a surge of confidence tipped him over the edge. “There’s something you need to hear.” You looked at him with those eyes of yours, oblivious to his oncoming declaration. It nearly made him cower back again, but the love he had for you was stronger. “I have feelings for you.”

Blinking for a few seconds, you then smiled, almost in relief. “Took you long enough, doofus. Because I like you too. Why else would I visit the tavern so often?”

Kaeya

He was beginning to grow annoyed. Left and right, he had been dropping hints for the feelings he held for you, but being the dense person you were, you barely bat an eye at them. 

His fingers would twirl in your hair and he would whisper compliments into your ear. Expecting you to grow nervous around him, he was only met by disappointment when you rolled your eyes and called him a tease. 

That was true. He flirted often and pretty obviously. But these feelings were genuine for you! He loved your smile, your laugh, your demeanor, your everything. 

It scared him. Perhaps you didn’t like him that way. Perhaps he flirted with you too much it held no effect on you. 

There was one thing he could not do: Outright say that he liked you. The best he could do was to continue these shenanigans. 

Tilting his head dangerously close to your face, his heart dropped when your face contained no reaction to the proximity. Day after day, it was getting increasingly difficult. 

Finally deciding to give it one more go, his hint was a way more obvious one. It was blunt and it expressed exactly what was felt internally at that moment. “Can I kiss you?” 

You instantly backed away from him, your face falling in... betrayal. Hurt was clear in your eyes as tears prickled the corners of them. He didn’t know what to do. Rushing to you, he asked what was wrong, before embracing you, pulling you into his warm chest. 

You told him how unfair it was. You were tired of how he kept playing with your feelings -- tired because the teasing tugged your heart strings every time, for you wished they were true. You wished it was true he wished to kiss you, or thought that you were beautiful, or... that he liked you.

His jaw dropped and he knew he messed up. Stroking your hair, he understood that he had to come clean. Because you liked him! And he, you. 

“None of them are lies. You are beautiful... and I’m in love with you. Look me in the eyes [Y/N]. Does this look like the eyes of someone who’s lying?”

He asked if he could kiss you, truly, and with a meek nod on your end, he pressed his lips on yours. 

[marwritesgood]

Just Me | S. Basset

Pairing: Simon x WOC!Reader

Timeframe: Early Season One

Summary: Simon and Y/n had a long history together. So why did it take reading Lady Whistledown’s latest column for her to learn about his blooming relationship with Daphne Bridgerton?

masterlist

A/N: This fic is over 6K words. 

The mere thought of a BIPOC love story set in the 18th Century is enough to make me swoon. So I decided to give it a go and write one myself. There’ll be two more parts after this :)

I also wanted to keep the reader description applicable to any and all women of colour, so it’s a bit vague just to ensure all of us (women of colour) can feel included. Please let me know if there any parts of this fic that don’t do this and I’ll fix it asap! 

If you’re white, this fic is not for you to identify with x

Also, if at any point you find my attempt at mimicking the language used in Bridgerton laughable... you are not the only one lmao. This has been super fun to write and also very challenging, but I am well aware it is farrrr from perfect :)

Nonetheless, I hope it’s a nice read for my WOC readers <3

Simon and Y/n first met when they were children. Her mother was very closely acquainted with Lady Danbury, so naturally, a friendship grew between the two of them- and a strong one at that. 

For years, their interactions had remained within confinements of what was socially acceptable. They bickered. They laughed. They shared inside jokes about the people within their social circle. Their feelings for each other never extended beyond what was befitting of a friendship. 

That was until they grew older.

When marriage and love became more and more ingrained into casual conversations, Simon and Y/n explored their feelings for one another. Questioned the extent to which they cared for each other and whether there was something more beneath the surface.

However, just as Y/n came to realise her love for Simon, he left for London. After a few short weeks, he returned with a new title. A new vow that the Hastings bloodline would end with him. Subsequently, with it, any hope Y/n had of her relationship with him becoming anything more than all it had always been: a friendship.

A year had passed since the sorrowful conversation resulting in Simon and Y/n agreeing to not indulge in the affections they shared. Since then, Y/n struggled to focus on securing a marriage proposal from one of the suitors in her town.

“This is your second season,” Y/n’s mother cried as she paced across the sitting room. Y/n sat in silence, having been interrupted from playing the piano by another one of her panicked outbursts. “Your second season and yet you continue to reject every marriage proposal you receive.”

She couldn’t blame her mother for being frustrated with her. As her only daughter, she needed to find a good match and be married off as soon as possible. Her father was of old age, but even he remained restless that Y/n be married. He much preferred the prospect of dying knowing that the estate would be inherited by Y/n’s husband instead of his nephew.

“I did not reject Mr Graham’s proposal, mama,” Y/n responded, unnervingly calmly considering how distraught her mother was. Mr Graham’s proposal was the latest one she had received that season. “I... simply asked for more time to consider my answer.”

“What on earth is there to consider?” Mrs Y/l/n shrieked. Her frustration only grew when her daughter was unable to answer her question. Y/n turned away from her mother. “He is a good man. He comes from a good, honourable family and will give you a good future- something you will not have if you continue to turn away suitors.”

“Mama, please.” Y/n could not say anything more, for fear that her mother’s anger toward her would only grow if she were to find out the truth. The real reason she could not yet bring herself to accept a marriage proposal.

“Why do you need time to consider, Y/n?” Her daughter had stood up from behind the piano and had her back turned to her mother. That did not stop her from continuing to pry. After so many rejected proposals, she felt she had a right to know why her daughter refused to marry. “I beg of you, tell me- what is there to consider?... What could possibly be keeping you from marrying Mr Graham.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Y/n sighed exasperatedly and turned back to face her mother.

“I do not love him,” Y/n replied in a hushed cry, only just loud enough for Mrs Y/l/n to hear from across the room. “He may be a good man, mama, but I... I do not love him, and I do not believe I ever could.”

She knew from their first encounter that she could never love him. Perhaps it was how he mispronounced her grandmother’s name or the way he possessed the same arrogance as every other suitor Y/n encountered. 

“My dear,” Mrs Y/l/n said, her voice and expression softening entirely. She reached out for her daughter’s hand and took hold of it gently. She knew precisely how Y/n felt, which meant that, unfortunately, she knew there was nothing to be done. “We have talked about this. Women like you and I... we do not have the luxury to make decisions based on our own feelings.”

Y/n was surrounded by women who did not share the same experiences she did. Women who could not empathise with the challenges she faced and being a woman in the 18th Century. Not even if they tried.

Therefore, whenever Y/n found herself hoping for the same things as the white women around her, she had to bring herself back to reality. She had to remember that if life was unkind to white women, it would always be hell for women like her, no matter who married into the royal family.

“I know,” Y/n answered. 

She did. She knew it was incredibly reckless of her to reject all of the proposals she had received. She knew she was naïve for basing her decision based on love. Yet, even so, she could not keep herself from holding out on the hope that she would not end up in a loveless marriage.

“I do not mean to upset you, Y/n,” Mrs Y/l/n said sincerely, as she guided her daughter to the nearest seat. “But I fear that if you continue on, you will have no more proposals to reject, and I... I simply cannot bear the thought... Please, dear, you must-”

Y/n began to close her eyes ready to brace herself for what she feared would inevitably happen- her mother insisting she accepts a proposal. However, just as she did, a maid knocked on the door and promptly brought in the newspaper. When Simon left for London, Y/n requested that any newspaper copy or mail sent to her from London be immediately handed to her. She looked forward to any kind of update on him.

“Thank you,” Y/n said to the maid as she handed her the newspaper. Without hesitation, she immediately turned to Lady Whistledown’s column.

“What does it say?” Her mother asked, giving up on her attempts at convincing Y/n to accept a marriage proposal, at least for the time being. 

Y/n’s blood ran cold as she read the column. She had expected to hear more about the bitter impression Simon was leaving in London. She was going to comment on how typical arrogant white elitists villainising anyone who did not approach them in a way that appeases their ego.

But that was not what she read.

Instead, she read about Simon showing a particular interest in the woman named the ‘Diamond of the Season’ by the Queen herself- Miss Daphne Bridgerton. She read about him courting her and spending a significant amount of time with her. She read about flowers, the expensive kind, and walks through Hyde park, and she was unsure whether to feel betrayed or feel furious.

It was one thing for Simon to begin courting another woman, after explaining to Y/n that he would never marry. It was another for her to have to learn all of this from reading the Lady Whistledown column. 

Without providing her mother with an answer as to what the column wrote, Y/n slammed the newspaper against the table beside her and stood up abruptly. 

Her mother went to reprimand Y/n for slamming the paper so violently against her favourite table. However, Y/n walked hastily into her bedroom. She began to plan what she was to pack when she would leave for London in the morning.

She was adamant on learning the truth in its entirety. And, this time, not from an anonymous publisher but from Simon himself.

***

Y/n had an aunt who lived in London with her husband and their three kids- all much younger than Y/n was. She knew that if she could get away with arriving in London unannounced with intent to stay for longer than a week, her only luck was with her aunt.

After she was escorted inside by one of the workers, Y/n stood and marvelled at her aunt’s husband’s estate. It looked nothing like the sitting room at her home. It looked fancier with much nicer things, leading her to think back to why her mother pushed so hard for her to marry. Mrs Y/l/n had helped her younger sister find a match, and now she lived in a beautiful home in London. 

Perhaps all she wanted was to ensure the same future for her only child.

“Y/n, my dear!” Her aunt came bursting through the doors with arms stretched out. She pulled Y/n into a tight embrace as she always did whenever greeting her niece. Before her three children, she had Y/n. “Oh, how I have missed you!”

“I have missed you too, Aunt Philippa,” Y/n smiled, gently clutching her aunt’s hand as she held her cheek. “Please forgive me for arriving here unannounced. I would have written to you in advanced, but I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

“Do not be silly, my dear,” Philippa laughed, before guiding her niece out of the sitting room and towards the staircase. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you may need. Though I imagine your mother will be impatiently anticipating your return... how is my dear sister?”

“As restless as ever,” Y/n mumbled. Philippa’s laughter echoed across the halls. Just as she expected, her older sister had not changed. Not one bit. “She is adamant that I am engaged by the end of the season, which is part of the reason I needed to leave home so quickly.”

“I do not blame you, dear,” Philippa murmured. She knew from first-hand experience how relentless Y/n’s mother could be. Even so, she knew it was out of love. Y/n knew as well. “Now... what is the urgent matter you need to attend? I imagine you will need a chaperone... and perhaps a carriage?”

Y/n smiled in relief. Everything she had done leading up to her arrival in London was purely impulsive. She hadn’t even thought of how she would get to Simon or who she would have to escort and chaperone her. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know the whereabouts of... the Duke of Hastings?”

Philippa’s eyes grew twice in size. Whether it was shock or excitement, Y/n could not figure out. It wasn’t until her aunt pulled her into the nearest empty room, checked to see if anyone was listening in, and grinned at her that Y/n concluded it was the latter.

“When I read about the Duke and Miss Bridgerton, all I could think of was you,” Philippa began, speaking in a hushed tone, though unable to contain her excitement. She did not typically indulge in gossip, but she was entirely invested in staying updated to her niece and Simon. “You never did tell me what happened when he returned. Did you confess your feelings?”

Philippa had generously volunteered her afternoons so that her niece could practise what she would say to Simon. She hoped those afternoons had not been spent in vain.

“I did... And then he did too... Before telling me, he would never marry,” Y/n explained, trying to conceal the way her breath hitched and the way tears welled up in her eyes. “Though, after reading Lady Whistledown’s column, it is clear that perhaps he meant that he would never marry me.”

Philippa frowned and lifted her hand up again, holding the side of Y/n’s face and swiping the few tears she couldn’t stop from escaping. As she did so, Y/n inhaled sharply- trying desperately to keep herself from indulging in her sorrow.

“I am sure that is not the case, dearest,” Philippa insisted. 

She refused to believe Simon would do that to her niece. Not after the stories she had heard from Y/n as they grew up. Not to mention all the times she caught one staring at the other across ballrooms and dining tables. 

“We must hurry,” she chirped, dropping her hand so she could grasp her niece’s arm. “I believe the Duke will be in Hyde Park with Lady Danbury. ‘Tis best we leave now if we wish to catch them.”

Y/n smiled. Being with her aunt was a nice change of pace to being with her mother. She would have scolded Y/n had she caught wind of what had happened. 

***

Upon their arrival at Hyde Park, Philippa approached Lady Danbury. Her plan was to make conversation with her, find out more about Simon and Daphne’s relationship. Then, she would ultimately create a segue for Y/n to have a somewhat private conversation with Simon.

However, Y/n had other plans.

When they arrived, she scanned the park in search of Simon. Once she spotted him walking alone on the pavement, she threw caution and decorum to the wind. Before her Aunt Philippa could stop her, Y/n sprinted. 

Once she reached him, she grabbed his shoulder roughly, prompting him to turn around.

“Peach,” Simon whispered, dumbfounded by Y/n’s sudden appearance.

He stopped calling Y/n by her name when they were five. Instead, he called her Peach, for reasons that remained a mystery to Y/n. Despite not knowing the reasoning behind it, she always adored it. She was the only person he had a unique designated name for.

More recently, she wondered if Miss Bridgerton would soon become an exception.

“You owe me an explanation,” Y/n said harshly, not having the patience to beat around the bush. This was primarily because she wanted to know the truth and because she was out of breath from sprinting to Simon.  “Do I really mean so little to you, Simon?”

“Please lower your voice,” Simon begged, subtly grabbing Y/n’s arm and quickening their pace to avoid the crowded area of the park. 

“Do not speak to me as though I am a child,” Y/n growled, yanking her arm away from him and stepping back. 

“Then do not act like one,” Simon retorted.

Y/n scoffed, before dusting off her dress. Simon rolled his eyes to cover his nervousness. He had a habit of concealing it with aggression. Y/n was often able to see through it, but she was guilty of doing the same.

“What changed?” Y/n asked as she looked back at Simon. “You seemed so certain when you told me you would never marry. Now you have extended your stay in London to court Miss Bridgerton?”

“I wish I could give you an answer,” Simon responded honestly. It was perhaps the most honest statement he had made all month. 

His courtship of Daphne was a mere ruse to attract more suitors for her. Truth be told, Simon was incredibly stressed by it, but he was too deep into the lie to give up any time soon. He hadn’t anticipated Y/n would be caught in the middle of it.

“Well, what could be hindering you from doing so?” Y/n cried, confused by how vague and cryptic Simon was acting.

He struggles to find the right words. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Y/n any more than he already had, but he could not give her the answer she wanted. Although he was not actually courting Daphne, he still would not marry. Thus, he could not do what would make her happy, which was the main reason he kept his distance from her in the first place.

“Things are different now,” Simon said apologetically, hoping to deter Y/n from prying. Though he desperately wanted to say more, he knew that doing so was incredibly risky. “We... we are not children anymore.”

Y/n blinked, astonished by Simon’s reaction. It was far from what she had expected. She expected an explanation. She expected assurance. Instead, she has pushed aside as though she and her feelings were disposable. 

This was a familiar feeling to Y/n.

“Is that all you think of me?” She asked angrily. Simon, of all the people in her life, had the most power to hurt her. And he often did so without realising. “A child?... And our relationship? You think it is something as easy to put behind you as your childhood? Is that all this is to you, Simon?”

She went to speak again. To demand what she felt she had a right to. However, before she could get a word out, a woman appeared from behind her. She was fair-skinned and wore a dress that resembled her complexion. 

“Miss Bridgerton,” Simon gasped. He did not know whether to be grateful for her arrival or concerned about how it would affect Y/n. He eventually became both. “May I introduce you to Miss Y/l/n. She is a... very close family friend.”

Y/n had to keep herself from scoffing. She was more to him than just a friend. Y/n knew that well, despite Simon’s denial.

“I am terribly sorry,” Miss Bridgerton cried, averting her attention to Y/n. “I did not mean to intrude.”

“Not at all,” Y/n assured, smiling sincerely at Daphne. Her anger was entirely directed towards Simon. Unlike him, Daphne had no pre-existing history with Y/n to remain considerate of. “I actually must return to my aunt. It was lovely to finally meet you, Miss Bridgerton.”

Before Y/n turned to walk back to her Aunt Philippa, she glanced back at Simon, who was very clearly terrified of how calm Y/n was. He could only imagine the amount of anger she was harbouring. Deterring her would prove to be much more complicated than he expected.

“Your grace,” Y/n snarled through gritted teeth, before forcing a smile as she turned away.

***

It had been a week since Y/n and Simon’s interaction at Hyde Park.

Y/n sat beside her aunt Philippa in a carriage as she read through her mother’s letter. She had made vividly clear, through an eight-paged rant, that she was absolutely livid with her daughter. Y/n’s hands were trembling. 

“I assume she is quite upset?” Philippa asked, though she already knew the answer. 

Y/n had extended her stay to a week just so she could attend a gala at Lady Danbury’s estate. It was her last hope of catching a moment alone with Simon and gaining, at the very least, some form of closure. She hoped it would not come to that, but from their last interaction, Y/n was losing confidence.

“She is furious,” Y/n answered shortly, before folding the letter abruptly and placing it aside. Her mother wrote one demand that sent chills through her bones. “If I am not home within a week, she will come to London and take me back herself. Then, I will have to accept Mr Graham’s proposal.”

Philippa’s stomach dropped. She placed her hand atop her niece’s. Y/n looked down to conceal the tears that began to gather in her eyes. Philippa noticed and wrapped her arm around Y/n, gently squeezing her shoulder. 

“I am sure it will not come to that,” she whispered soothingly, though she struggled to sound sincere. Y/n nodded. She didn’t quite believe her aunt, but she knew there was no point in losing hope entirely. At least not yet.

Once they arrived at the gala, Philippa made conversation with a friend, whileY/n made way to Lady Danbury. The event was held in her courtyard. While others marvelled at her estate, Y/n felt a warm sense of nostalgia. When Lady Danbury brought Simon to her London estate during summers, she would often invite Y/n and her parents. While her parents and the Danburys made conversation in the house, Simon and Y/n would run about freely outside.

“Welcome back, Miss Y/l/n,” Lady Danbury smiled warmly, as Y/n and her aunt approached her.

“It is a pleasure to be here, my lady,” Y/n responded curtly, before laughing out loud as Lady Danbury pulled her into her arms for a tight hug. 

Once she let go, they made small talk. Lady Danbury asked Y/n how her parents were. Y/n asked Lady Danbury how she was and how her fruit orchards were. After they ran out of things to discuss, Y/n could not help but scan the room searching for Simon, who was nowhere to be found.

“I am not completely sure where he is,” Lady Danbury said, startling Y/n who had not realised how far from natural she was acting. “Though, he did complain about how suffocated he was by the throng here... I imagine he has gone to a place where it will be difficult for most to find him.”

Y/n thought for a moment. Lady Danbury was cryptic by nature, and after years of knowing her, she had a knack for figuring out what she meant. Once Y/n knew, she smiled at Lady Danbury, before excusing herself from the gala.

Y/n headed away from the gala and towards the maze area. It was well-lit, which she was grateful for as it meant she could navigate her way around swiftly. It felt like second-nature to her; running about in the Danbury’s London Estate. She forgot how much she enjoyed the thrill of running through and past the hedges.

Once she reached the maze’s centre, she saw Simon standing idle, his back towards where she stood. That was the place they spent most of their time. When they were younger, they would sit there and play games. As they got older, they would sit there and talk. Sometimes he would read while she drew. Sometimes vice versa. But most of the time, they spoke—about everything worth talking about, and then some.

“I remember the first time we played here together,” Y/n began, causing Simon to jump. Once he turned around and saw Y/n his tense posture softened, and a small smile appeared across his face. She felt relieved by it, though she didn’t want to let her guard down entirely. “I got lost, almost immediately, and you found me sitting here, cross-legged, in a puddle of tears. Do you remember?”

Simon chuckled. Of course, he thought. 

“You were inconsolable when I found you,” he mocked, prompting Y/n to reach out and lightly punch his shoulder. His laughter only grew.

“We were five,” Y/n reasoned. She would never admit that she was dramatic. Not even as a child. “I genuinely thought no one would ever find me... and then you did, within a matter of minutes.”

She joined him in laughing. It made for a very entertaining story that they retold relentlessly. While others were sick of hearing it, neither of them were sick of recounting it, for their own reasons.

“I told you I would never leave you behind,” he added, smiling as he thought back to that day. His smile faded quickly when he realised the irony. He frowned and took a step towards Y/n. “Peach, I must apologise-”

“-No... I am the one who must apologise,” she intervened. Simon stood back in confusion. Y/n sighed before clarifying herself. “I did not mean to blindside you so aggressively before. I did not come here to argue with you, Simon, I... I came to ask you if it is true... Are you courting Miss Bridgerton... with the intent of marrying?”

Simon winced. 

He felt conflicted by both his love for Y/n and the promise he made to Daphne to uphold their ruse. He could not in good faith outright admit that he was merely pretending to court Miss Bridgerton. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Y/n’s heart a second time.

His lips parted, but his mouth ran dry. Before Simon could keep himself from blurting out the wrong thing, he was overcome by a habit he developed over the last month of playing along.

“I am,” he answered.

Just as he did, he lifted his hand to his temple and scrunched his eyebrows. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Y/n. He was still haunted by the look on her face when he told her he would never marry.

“Right,” she sniffled, unsure how to react. Y/n had convinced herself that there was more to the story than what she had read from Lady Whistledown. She regretted how in-denial she allowed herself to become. 

One thing Y/n knew for sure, though, was that she did not want to be near Simon. Although she was on the verge of sobbing, she still turned around and intended to leave him, but Simon grabbed her arm and kept her from doing so.

“Please let me explain,” he begged.

Y/n’s tears halted as she glared at Simon, shocked. She shook her arm out of his grasp and took a step back from him. She had always despised the way men often treated women as though they were disposable and replaceable. She never expected Simon to be one.

“There is no explanation necessary,” she scoffed.

“Y/n, please, you do not understand,” Simon cried. It was rare for him to call her by her name, but Y/n dubbed it as him trying to manipulate her emotions. She would not let that happen. 

“No, of course, you would deceive me,” Y/n spat, unwilling to let Simon get a word in. She was tired of waiting around just to hear from him. This time, she would be the talking. He would be the one listening. “-about not wanting to marry or have children, and of course, I believed your ridiculous lie, like the fool I have always been for you.”

“Ridiculous?” Simon hissed. Y/n’s dismissal of his vow sparked a fit of anger that overcame him before he could realise it had done so. No one had ever called to question or criticised his decision to remain a bachelor for life. No one until Y/n.

“Perhaps not a ridiculous lie,” Y/n sneered. “No, it was more-so childish and nonsensical.”

“And yet, you believed it... What is that to say about you, Miss Y/l/n?” Simon scorned. Y/n flinched. Simon had only ever addressed her in such a way to either tease her or to emphasise his anger. It had been a long while since he had done so for the latter. “It was not a lie, Y/n, I... You could never understand the immense pressure I have been placed under my entire life-”

“- Pressure that significantly decreased with the death of your father,” Y/n argued. Simon acted as though he had a monopoly over her when it came to challenges in life. He could not have been more wrong. “I, on the other hand, am placed under severe pressure and will continue to be, long after my parents pass... That is one of the many things you will never understand.”

“That is not true,” Simon fired back, only for Y/n to continue speaking- this time, with a louder voice.

“We may be the same in one sense, but we are significantly different in another, because you, Simon, are still a man with a title.” Y/n and Simon both shared similar challenges as neither of them were white. However, where Simon inherited certain advantages for being a man, and a Duke, Y/n was only disparaged more. He often forgot that. “You, at the very least, still have the luxury of choice. To choose how you wish to fulfil your future, and whether or not that may include a wife or children.”

Simon lowered his eyes defeatedly. Though he was still angry, there was no denying the shame he felt. 

“I do not. Those choices were made for me the moment I was born a daughter and not a son. So do not act as though you are in a position to empathise with me,” Y/n said. “Especially when you have been the least bit empathetic after I came all the way here, just to confirm the truth about you and Miss Bridgerton.”

“I never told you to come to London,” Simon snapped.

“No, you did not,” Y/n retorted, with just as much, if not more, annoyance in her voice. “You did not tell me anything. I had to find out at the same moment as everyone else in England, as though we are strangers.”

Simon flinched as Y/n progressed from speaking loudly to outright shouting. He had always relied on having her sympathy and her support, even when he was in the wrong. Thankfully, they were far from the gala. However, Simon still feared someone had heard her reprimanding him.

“You claim you are different, now that you are a Duke, but you are the same as you have always been,” Y/n continued. She knew how he had always been. Better than anyone, let alone Miss Bridgerton, that was for sure. “You are still rigid and arrogant. You are still a coward who will never allow himself to feel any kind of joy. And you are still revolving your every decision in life around a man you claim to despise.”

“You do not know a thing,” he whispered, which only confirmed to Y/n that he was scared. He was intimidated. For as long as they had known one another, Y/n rarely confronted his relationship with his father.

“I have watched you go from living only to please him to living only to spite him, even if it means hurting the people who actually care for you,” she cried. She had no more anger within her. Not any more. She had only sadness. “Did it ever occur to you how much it hurt when you rejected me?”

“That was never my intention,” Simon said regretfully. 

It was the truth, though Simon had begun to realise that his wrath against his father blinded him from what he cared about more: her happiness. 

“Peach,” he whispered, inching towards Y/n as he lifted his hand and held the left side of her face. “Please, believe me, I never meant to hurt you.”

Their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. It had been so long since they had shared a moment like that. An intimate moment shared between no one but them. Where Simon was not the stoic and emotionally detached Duke of Hastings. He was Simon. Dare she say, her Simon.

Despite that, Y/n was the first to turn away. She wanted to indulge. To take advantage of the opportunity to reconcile with him. To enjoy how vulnerable he was, after months of distance. 

But she couldn’t. 

Not when there were still questions burning in her mind. She could not rest until they were dealt with. After all, she was her mother’s child.

“Then what about Miss Bridgerton?” Y/n’s expression remained stagnant, but she could not keep hands from trembling. Simon winced at the mention of Daphne. “You... courting her after rejecting me... You cannot possibly tell me you did not intend to hurt me when you did that.”

Simon opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He had no response to what she had said because there was no justification for what he had done. All he could do was curse quietly to himself for taking so long to realise how foolish he had been.

“I had always expected this to happen,” Y/n began, sniffling as she tried to compose herself enough to explain herself. Simon remained quiet and decided he would until she finished. He figured he owed her as much. “I always knew I would be turned away for someone like Daphne Bridgerton.”

It had been the subject of many of her mother’s lessons. Before she was introduced to society, her mother made it a point to prepare her for rejection. To not hold out hope for any man, until a marriage proposal was made. 

Simon had been Y/n’s only exception to that rule. 

“It’s happened to me my whole life,” Y/n laughed bitterly, as she recalled all the times she had lost to a woman of fairer skin than her. All the times she wept to her Aunt Philippa and to Simon. “I always expected this would happen. But I never expected this would happen with you.”

Simon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Y/n struggle to stifle her cries in between her sentences. He had watched her sit in this sorrow many times, just as she had done for him, for this was a pain she shared. But this time was different. This time he was the one responsible. 

He didn’t know pain, so heart-wrenching, was possible. But watching her cry and knowing he could do nothing to fix it. That pain had never felt more real.

“I do not blame you, Simon,” Y/n whimpered, which only made him hurt more. He wanted her to be angry. To berate him some more. It was the least of what he deserved for causing her such sorrow. “She is the ‘Diamond of the Season’ after all, and... I am just me.”

Y/n hated the pity party she was throwing for herself, but she could not help what she felt. After a life of being classed second to white women, who could blame her for internalising this? 

He was dying to say something. To tell Y/n that she had it all wrong. He wanted to reveal that his courtship of Daphne was all a ruse. That he could never bring himself to entertain the idea of marrying anyone but her. But his fear of only making things worse left him paralysed. 

“You have made it abundantly clear that I was a fool forever waiting around for you,” she said to Simon. Unfortunately for him, she had taken his lack of response as confirmation that what she had concluded of the situation was accurate. “I will not make that mistake again.”

“Peach-”

“Goodbye, Simon,” Y/n blurted as she turned away hastily. 

Left in too much shock to reach out and stop her, Simon stood, dumbfounded, and watched as the woman he loved walked away from him and back to the gala. Looking back, he wished he had called out to her. Simon wished he had run after her. But he did not.

When Y/n reached the courtyard where the gala was being held, she couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that rushed over when she realised Simon let her go. This assured her that she was right to leave him, but it did not alleviate the pain in doing so. 

She made her way through the crowd and searched for her aunt. As she did, she felt her cheeks burn and her pace of breath quicken. She had gone through all the effort of coming to London just for what she feared most to be the reality. 

“There you are, my dear!”

Y/n turned around and saw her Aunt approaching her. Philippa smiled brightly as she walked towards her niece. However, when she realised that Y/n’s enthusiasm fell short of matching hers by a significant margin, her smile began to fade.

“Where is Simon?” She inquired, her voice lowered to not draw attention to their conversation. From Y/n expression, Philippa inferred that was the last thing she wanted.

Y/n’s lip quivered as she tried desperately to answer her aunt’s question. When she failed to do so, she hung her head- too embarrassed to face her aunt. Philippa frowned. A line appeared between her brows as she reached out to her distraught niece.

Though she was dying to know, the details of Simon and Y/n’s conversation were the least of her concerns. All she cared for was her niece and helping her in any way she needed. 

“I will call for our carriage,” she whispered, before guiding Y/n out of the courtyard. 

Once their carriage arrived, Philippa sat opposite her niece and watched worriedly as she refused to make eye contact, let alone speak.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Y/n took a long moment to respond. She stared at her gloved hands as she thought about what to do next. She regretted all the proposals she had turned down, and all the ways she put her life on hold for Simon. She felt ashamed that she had allowed herself to be in the situation she was in. 

Then she realised the only thing she could do to fix it.

“May you organise a carriage to take me home tomorrow?” Y/n asked. Her aunt’s eyes widened. Returning home to face her mother was the last thing Philippa expected Y/n to want to do. 

She watched her niece closely, trying to figure out what her plan moving forward was. Y/n finally looked up and met her aunt’s gaze. To Philippa’s surprise, her niece had a prominent sense of confidence in her expression. 

“Why, my dear?” Philippa quizzed, her eyebrows still knitted in confusion as well as fear. The way her niece was suddenly overcome with confidence after being on the verge of tears was concerning. She couldn’t imagine it would lead to anything good.

Y/n inhaled sharply, pursing her lips as she did so. She knew her aunt would disagree with what she planned to do. But she also knew that, given the circumstance, Philippa would reluctantly do as she asked. Before she answered, Y/n momentarily glanced down at her hands and turned back to her aunt.

“I have a proposal to accept.”

NEXT PART

[ganymedesclock]

I don’t want to say fictional robots “belong” to autistic people because any given fantastical allegory can have manifold and meaningful resonance to all manner of diversities, but something I do think is very interesting about fictional robots as an autistic person is this:

Robots as a plot element or character arc often center on this question of emotions. Do you feel emotions? Now, this is an imperfect argument about humanity/authenticity in the first place since there are plenty of Real Human Beings who experience anhedonia or alexithymia- but I think also, in my experience, a lot of these stories- sometimes in-universe, sometimes only in fandom responses- betray that maybe a lot more people than they think, are not very good at identifying emotions.

Many fictional robots- to be blunt- pour with emotion. They will often have a blunted affect (that is to say, speaking in a monotone, or limited facial expressions), they may use overly technical terminology, but they will make arbitrary decisions based on personal preference, it will be nakedly obvious they have a preference and their preference is determined at least in part by what pleases them. Data from Star Trek adores his cat and cares deeply about art and poetry.

And I won’t say any of these characters are bad people. I don’t want to suggest the goal is to create a character who’s “really” emotionless. If there is a quibble I have with this, it’s that I think we could all afford to be a little more careful and a little bit more imaginative, when considering how other people’s minds work, and how they present details. Not just as a joyless finger-wag of “you should be more responsible!” (though I will say there is some joylessness to it- I don’t really enjoy being shown a character who emotes close to how I naturally do, being fretted over by people asking if that character has a soul, is a real person, or simply an effective mimic; that hurts a little too personally to be fun!)

I was thinking of this because I was reflecting on one of my favorite little videos, My Job Is To Open And Close Doors. It’s a simple little uninterrupted 3-minute monologue about an AI who, well, see title, but has a bit of a crisis of purpose and asks themselves a bunch of critical questions about their role and purpose.

At its core, to me, the AI in My Job clearly experiences an emotion; they see something in the course of doing their job that they have no protocol or instruction to halt before, but feel an incredible misgiving about following through on. In response to this misgiving, in a very human manner, they begin to procrastinate- all the while, they point out to their own mounting confusion that this is a meaningless activity, but it buys them more time.

The voice acting given to the AI is very good, and, to me, cinches the whole piece- the actor very specifically does not leave a neutral-pleasant tonal range, and at several points, rather than asking an obviously “emotional” question, the AI simply hangs up in their own thinking talking to themselves- “because- because- because-” a very mechanical sort of stutter.

And using this flat affect and mechanical quirks, the actor establishes and fits to an emotional vernacular. The thrust of the plot- that the AI isn’t sure why they’re hesitating when their job is straightforwards and clear, that they even take note that this is being recorded as an error by another party- repeats in the sense of the stuttering- just as they procrastinate opening the doors without being sure why, they too “procrastinate” the completion of their statements when they’re unsure of them. The AI believes that the delivery of a solution, an answer, a “point”, is inevitable, so when they do not feel they have an answer they are incapable of saying “I don’t know”; instead, they stall. They procrastinate in the hope of achieving enough time to deliver an answer that meets their standards, that satisfies the parameters either set by their programming, or their own feelings.

My Job also adds in a sense of why emotions are important- in a sense that is not about enjoyment or satisfaction, although the AI ultimately does feel tremendously satisfied at the successful conclusion of their quandary- because without the ability to experience “baseless misgivings”, they would have simply responded to the initial command to open the door and been unbothered by whatever happened. In that sense, you could argue, it’s an ‘emotion’ born from ‘logic’ (that there is something amiss, though it takes the AI time to tease this out of their own thinking) but at that point we’re barking up a fool’s tree of semantics because our “logic” and our sentiments are both chemicals clattering around the same undifferentiated apparatus at the same time and thus inextricably attached to one another.

The thing that kills me about this is- with no hostility to the commenter in question- I scrolled down into the comments of My Job and immediately saw someone talking about how clearly, the AI has no emotions.

To me, this entire plot is about an AI having an emotion. Unmistakable and clear. This is about a door mechanism experiencing a profoundly human response to distress- procrastinating on the completion on a task they have every resource and in fact an active imperative to complete, based on a misgiving they are unable to articulate. This revelation is so profound to them that at the end of the video, they actually reframe their entire objective- “My job is to protect the human. My job is a great purpose.”

So I guess if there’s a tl;dr or conclusion to this sentiment, it’s that I think that while we can and should absolutely tell stories about fictional robots- because they are cool, and because they are also tremendously useful to ask certain existential questions about personhood- I think that it is actually very important to temper both our creation and consumption on these narratives on a more robust theory of neurodivergence, and, “I don’t recognize the way this emotion plays out in this particular person” does not equal “there is no emotion there at all”