#i wanted to write more but this was one of those situations where the characters took over and things happened at times i didnt plan for lo

[dorabellingham]

Long distance

warning: none

characters: jude x reader

summary: when your long-distance relationship is going through a turbulent time, but you do everything to understand each other

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The months passed quickly, and despite the distance, you and Jude tried to stay connected. He was in Madrid, living the peak of his career, with intense training, games and constant travel, while you, in another country, focused on your college year. The distance was testing your limits, but so far, you seemed to be able to keep the flame alive. However, there were times, like this one, when you felt that something wasn't right.

It was a cold Thursday night, and you were at home, after another long week of studies and commitments. You looked at your phone, checking if you had any messages from Jude. You saw that he had sent you a good night message, as he always did when you weren't talking in person, but when you opened the screen, you saw that he was busy with something and couldn't answer at those times. It was something common, but that night, a feeling of emptiness hit you even harder. You tried to be understanding. You knew that Jude was at a decisive moment in his career and that football demanded a lot of his time. However, you couldn’t help but feel alone. The long-distance relationship was getting hard to sustain. You always tried your best to be patient, but you also had your own emotional needs, and as much as you loved your boyfriend, you couldn’t hide the fact that you were feeling neglected. That night, instead of just texting him that you were fine, you sat on your bed and decided to write something more sincere. You knew you had to be honest with him, no matter how hard it was.

"Jude, I know you’re super busy and I don’t want to be a burden, but… sometimes I feel like you’re so distant. Not physically, of course, but emotionally. I understand how much football takes out of you, but I also need you here, you know? And there are days when I really feel like I’m doing this all by myself. I don’t want to be demanding, but can you help me understand what’s going on? I just don’t want to feel invisible.”

You hesitated a little before hitting send, but you knew you had to say it. You didn’t want the frustration to build up to the point where it could harm their relationship. Instead, you preferred to get things sorted out while there was still time.

A few minutes later, your phone vibrated. It was a text from Jude.

“Sweetie, I’m sorry if I left you feeling this way. I really didn’t mean to. You know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for us. I can’t deny that I’m completely focused on my work, but that will never be more important than you. I love you and I’m struggling to find balance. I want you to know that I need you here too, more than you know. Let’s talk about this when you can.”

You felt an immediate sense of relief. You knew he wasn’t trying to push you away, but the feeling of being neglected hurt you deeply. You took a deep breath and sent a reply.

“I love you, Jude. I know it’s hard for you too, and I don’t mean to be selfish. Just… please don’t make me feel like I’m an option when you already have so much going on. I just need to know that I’m still important to you, even with all this crazy schedule you have.”

Your phone vibrated again.

“You’ll always be my priority, Y/n. I’m just trying to organize myself so that we can be together as much as possible. I don’t want you to feel that way, no way. Let’s figure it out. Give me some time and we’ll plan something together, something just for us, so you can see how important you are to me. I promise I’ll try to make this easier for you. I’m not going to give up on us.”

You smiled, feeling a soft relief this time. You knew that, despite the distance and the challenges, the love between you were still strong. You were still learning to deal with the situation, and that was something natural, something that many long-distance relationships face.

A few hours later, you finally received a call from Jude. The sound of his voice calmed you down immediately, and you closed your eyes as you listened to him speak, knowing that, despite the pressure and the distance, you still belonged together.

—Babe, I just wanted to hear from you. I was thinking about how we can improve this. Maybe I should call you more often, or even text you more when I know you need me.

You interrupted him softly, with a light laugh.

—I’m not the type of person to complain, but sometimes I feel like I’m trying too hard to be strong on my own. And yes, a more frequent message would make me feel more present. I know you’re doing your best, Jude. It’s just that sometimes the best seems so far away, darling.

Jude sighed, as if he was relieved to finally hear your truth. He could feel the weight of your words, and it touched him deeply.

—I understand. And I’m going to do it. I’m going to be more present. Because you deserve it. You deserve to know that I’m completely yours, even if the distance tries to separate us. I’m going to make things work, because you’re the most important thing in my life.

You smiled at his words. The feeling of warmth was almost instantaneous. You had had a difficult conversation, but a necessary conversation, and that was the most important thing. You didn’t want to be neglected, but you didn’t want to be selfish either. You just wanted to be with him, by his side, even if that meant you had to adjust a little.

—I love you, Jude. I’m here for you too, always. And I know that in the end, everything will work out. We’ll get through this together.

He was silent for a moment before answering.

—I love you more, babe. And I’m going to show you that I can be better for both of us.

That night, even though you were miles apart, you and Jude felt closer than ever. Your conversation was a reminder that despite the hardships of distance and Jude’s career, what really mattered was your commitment to each other. You weren’t giving up. You were simply learning to be better in your relationship, day by day.

[jaegersmoon]

what are ur steps to writing a complex character? i’m having so much trouble w that

✧ write the characterization out on paper so you can visualize it

write out their likes, their dislikes, their personality type, what makes them impatient, what scares them, give them habits and put the reason as to why the habits are there, is it a coping mechanism? a trauma response? did they get it from a parent that died and they don't even realize they adopted that habit until someone points it out? seeing all of this will help you make connections that maybe you were blind to when it was all in your head.

✧ let them be imperfect !!!

when writing complex characters, it can be so easy to fall victim to the concept of trying to make them perfect, of no flaws, because it is your creation and at the end of the day, you are the one making the choice for them but remember that flaws are what drive the complexity of a character. let go of the idea of them always being well versed (bc that isn't reality) and let them make poor choices, be stupid, have horrible coping mechanisms, shut people out, get them into situations other characters wouldn't touch and then let them struggle to find a way out.

✧ don't let the character think like you, but rather think like the character

it's extremely common to use certain life experiences and build them into events in your book. if you do this when involving a complex character, allow them to make choices that you wouldn't ever make. let them over react where you would under reacted or under act when you would over react. let them blow something out of proportion, snap at a character, and say things that you never would and then give it a ripple affect... let it take damage to a strong bond because of their inability to listen and then have them suffer the consequences of that choice in order to allow them to grow enough to fix their present flaws.

the more you write, the more you will learn how to embody what character you're writing and your brain will almost slowly turn into theirs and it will become easier to make choices that accurately fall around their flaws rather than your own.

✧ let them piss you / the readers off

as a writer who is publishing works to the public, it can sometimes be intimating to think about readers reactions when decides on certain choices a specific characters makes, weather you're going to make them mad or not or make them wanna throw their phone. if you do? then good bc you're making them feel something and in my opinion, complex characters are not made to be made to be liked 100% of the time. sometimes they do things they shouldn't or they make choices that makes their development spiral backward, but that's the point. take eren for example, he is a very complex character, has he done things to piss me off? yes. do i love him despite all of that? yes. do i love him because of that complexity and those flawed choices? yes. zuko is another good example of this.

another example, i hated how jean was at the beginning of ob, it was so painful me to write and is even painful for me to reflect on, his flaws made me so angry, but i had a vision as to where i wanted him to end up and i knew if i wanted to develop him and flush him out the way i have, i needed to start him in the trenches and give him a solid reason as to why he was stuck in the hole he dug for himself.

✧ complex characters need a reason that they are complex

where did they come from? what did they experience that made them this way? what triggers their anger? what things are they sensitive too and why? every complex character should have depth as to why they have become who they are. understand their triggers and create boundaries (i.e jean's back, yn's thighs). also give them layers upon laters of identity that you can later leverage out of them and say "this character hates this specific thing because of x y and z and because x y and z happened to them, this is where they fall short in this specific part of their life.

✧ allow them to contradict themselves and let it happen a lot

let them say something and then do something that goes against what they said and turn it into an inward battle. many times the biggest villain of a complex character is themselves.

for example, when keith called yn to tell her to come back to stohess because of lucas she was aware of his flaws and that she wants nothing to do with him but when he mentioned her brother, she took off running and reverted back into the little girl she used to be when they were at the dinner table and he was telling her that he loves her and wants them to be a family and she was inwardly questioning if he actually meant it even though in the back of her head she knows its not true. this is where her complexity comes in. it would be easier just to write her as a 'fuck you dad' type of girl but that isn't who she is. she loves people to a fault and at the end of the day, despite her horrible experiences with keith and all the suffering he put her through, she will always have a piece of her that yearns desperately for her father and the family she lost and will always be hopeful that vacancy will somehow be filled and that is something she truly hates about herself hence why she so often says she knows better than to hope (and yet, she still does).

; hope this helps bb, please remember i am not at all trained in any of this, what i know is what ive learned by doing so take it all w a grain of salt lmfao <3

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

[sgtcalhouns]

Adore You

I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

heyo, have some body worship smut?? it's the mechanic au, and felix has recently discovered that sex can be as emotionally intimate as it is physically intimate. he's not sure how to explain it to tamora, but he's happy to demonstrate. obviously nsfw. enjoy!

Soft morning light streamed through the bedroom window. There was nothing on the schedule for the day, no pressing tasks or work commitments to force the couple out of bed, although they had been awake for some time now. The only sound in the room was the occasional contented sigh, or words of affection murmured against skin. Felix couldn't imagine a more perfect morning.

Tamora lay beside him, glowing where the rays of sunlight met her skin. It gave her an ethereal quality that Felix couldn't find the words to express; he hoped the soft, slow press of his lips to her neck was enough to get the message across. He was generally adept at telling her how he felt, but she had opened him up to feelings he didn't even know he was capable of; trying to define them felt impossible. The more time they spent together, the more it seemed that his entire body was calling out to her, and with each passing day it was more difficult to resist the pull.

It was deeper than lust, but the distinction felt somewhat inconsequential when the outcome was the same. Still, he couldn't fight the growing need to explain himself to her. She deserved to know that he spent every waking moment longing to be right here, feeling her skin against his. But how could he ever tell her without sounding like every other man who had ever lusted after her? Lifting his head, he leaned on his elbows and gazed down at her. In this light, he could easily make out the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. When her icy blue eyes glanced up at him, he nearly stopped breathing; she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He wasn't sure if he would ever get over the fact that she was here with him. Deep down, he never wanted to.

"What?" she asked.

"It's nothin', I just..." he paused as he searched for the right words. "I really love getting to know you like this."

His answer took Tamora by surprise. Normally, she might have teased him for openly admitting how much he enjoyed their intimacy—even now, he was often too shy to say it outright. But she could sense his earnestness, and she certainly didn't want to discourage him.

"Yeah?" she replied, a gentle nudge for him to continue.

"It's hard to explain," he said. "Of course it feels good when we're together, but it's more than just physical. It's somethin' deeper. I just feel so close to you."

He looked away from her as he finished his thought.

"I didn't know it could be this way," he admitted. "I didn't know I could feel like this."

It was clear that he’d spent a lot of time reflecting on the topic, but Tamora wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t think she fully understood what he was trying to say. In a way, it felt like he was still trying to figure it out for himself. In the absence of words, she reached up to brush her fingers through his bangs, which had become messy in his sleep. He closed his eyes and smiled, leaning into her touch before turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“You know I’m not the best at talking about this stuff. My whole life, it felt like somethin’ I wasn’t supposed to talk about or enjoy,” he explained. A bashful smile appeared on his lips as he continued. “You remember how hard it was for me to admit that I wanted you.”

Tamora smiled at the memory.

“I sure do.”

“I’ve always believed in talking things through,” he said, shifting to reach one of his hands across her to rest in the curve of her waist. “But being with you has made me realize I can say so much without talking at all.”

She was about to ask what he meant when she felt his hand brush against her skin, making its way to her hip. His thumb lovingly stroked her hip bone, and she suddenly thought she understood his intentions.

“Tammy, I love you so much. Sometimes I get frustrated because there just aren’t enough words for me to tell you everything I’m feeling,” he explained. Even now, there was a sense of frustration that he couldn’t accurately explain himself to her. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like all I care about is sex, but…”

Felix shook his head and met her gaze; she could see his desperation to be understood simmering in his eyes and she wished there was some way she could reassure him.

“Lately all I can think about is being in bed with you just like this. Touching you and kissing you and making love because when we connect, it’s almost like I can make you feel what I feel.”

His cheeks were flushed now that he had finally made his feelings known. He still didn’t know if she understood his meaning, but a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Tamora took a moment to reflect with this revelation in mind. He had always been an affectionate partner, even outside the context of their bedroom. His constant touch had been strange for her at the beginning of their relationship, but she had come to enjoy the small ways he doted on her. She had never questioned it, but she realized now that this, too, was an expression of his love.

“I love you in ways I didn’t even know were possible,” he continued. “I didn’t know I could do that before I met you.”

Tamora shifted, moving her hand from his forehead to the side of his face. His eyes were shining with love, and she took a moment to bask in it before pulling him close to her for a kiss. He sighed as he relaxed into the embrace, allowing his chest to rest against hers and relishing the skin-to-skin contact. In that kiss was everything he needed to confirm that she understood him, and it was freeing. It gave him the courage to ask for an opportunity to put his new skills to work.

“I can explain it better like this,” he murmured against her lips. His fingers trailed the curve of her hip before making their way back up to her waist. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

In lieu of a response, she pressed an ardent kiss to his lips. Around Felix, she often found herself at a loss for words; the sappy, romantic feelings he awakened within her were too difficult for her to voice. Instead, her approach involved hoping that the emotions translated clearly through touch. At times, she felt guilty for not being able to verbalize her feelings for him when he seemed to have such an easy way with words. Knowing that he’d come to recognize the possibilities of expressing himself this way made her feel seen and excited her beyond words.

“Show me.”

Felix shifted so that he could rest just above her. The hand not supporting his weight traveled a loving path up to her face, fingertips ghosting across her cheek to brush the hair out of her eyes. Once his view was unobstructed he leaned down for a gentle kiss. When she teased him with her tongue he accepted, perhaps a bit more enthusiastically than he had planned, but he simply couldn’t fight his instinctive desire. For a moment, he allowed himself to get lost in the sensations, to relish the electric spark between them and the drive to chase it, but soon he pulled back, reminding himself what he was hoping to accomplish. There was so much to show her, and he was just getting started.

They were both breathing heavily when he broke the connection, but he tried his best to maintain a controlled pace as he moved to his next area of focus—those darling freckles across her cheeks. She was indifferent at best when it came to the tiny sunspots that graced her skin, but he loved them. They were sparse, and so light that most of the time they were barely visible, but in the morning light they seemed to pop against her otherwise pale complexion.

He took his time as he left a trail of soft kisses from one side of her face to the other, taking care to ensure that no freckle was left out. Now that he had arrived by her ear, he adjusted his path to make his way along her jawline, maintaining the same steady pace as he showered her with affection. Sweet pecks transitioned to more impassioned, open-mouth kisses as his mouth traveled down her neck. Here he paused, resting his head in his favorite spot in the curve of her neck, and breathed in deep. He’d never felt so drawn to another person’s scent before meeting Tamora; it brought him a sense of peace, the type he always felt when he was close to her.

It took her by surprise when his affections picked back up and she felt his tongue against her skin. Felix loved it when she got rough and sank her teeth into his neck, but it was rare for him to behave so recklessly with her. He knew she enjoyed it when he kissed her neck, but most of the time he left it at that, not daring to allow his teeth or his tongue to mar her skin. Sometimes he let himself imagine giving in and ravishing her, leaving his mark behind for all to see. Even just fantasizing about it felt improper—he didn’t own her, and it would be wrong to mark her as though she was his territory. But that very feeling of ownership was just what excited him when Tamora left hickeys on his neck. Whether it was right or wrong to feel that way, he was hers, and he wanted everyone to know it. Anytime he got a glimpse in the mirror or he caught a stranger’s eyes flitting down to his neck was a little reminder of the moment she left her mark. Was she disappointed not to have any physical reminders of their intimacy? He’d never thought to ask her before.

As though she could read his thoughts, she buried her fingers in his hair, her firm grip keeping him in the curve of her neck. He had done a good job of maintaining control of himself, but the slight dig of her nails into his scalp did things to him, and she knew it. It felt like her way of granting him permission—he didn’t dare think of it as an outright request—to let go and give in to what he really wanted. His tongue found one of the sweet spots on her neck, where she always seemed to be most receptive to his touch, and her grip tightened. Tentatively, he allowed his teeth to graze the spot. He felt Tamora’s hum of mmhmm against lips and became emboldened to act in earnest this time, gently biting into her skin. She gasped and he felt the way her torso pressed against his when she arched her back. Feeling her body respond to him in this way was invigorating, prompting him to nip and suck at her skin without holding back. His hand reached for her breast, gently kneading as he soothed the bites with soft kisses.

"Tammy," he sighed against her skin, "you make it so hard for me to control myself."

She was breathing heavily, and as he caught a glimpse of her flushed cheeks, he thought he might melt. Their eyes met and the hunger in her expression sent a thrill down his spine.

"I don't want you to."

Somewhere in the back of his mind it occurred to him that he probably ought to be embarrassed about the affect her words had on him. These thoughts were quickly drowned out by desire, and he returned to his task with enthusiasm. His hand slid up her chest, reaching for her bicep. After such a heated exchange, she hadn't expected this to be his next move. But she was so strong, and he had never been able to articulate the way it turned him on. There was something exciting about the fact that she could truly do anything she wanted to him; knowing she possessed such power made it all too easy to submit to her, and it made their softer encounters feel that much more sacred. His fingers brushed against the contours of her muscles, lovingly tracing every dip and curve, and he desperately hoped it was enough to convey his admiration to her.

Next, he turned his attention to her breasts, taking one in each hand. He’d always felt that they were the perfect size; a tailor-made handful that gave him just enough flesh to sink his fingers—or teeth—into. Perhaps his favorite thing about them was that they were so sensitive—Tamora certainly wasn’t shy about the pleasure it brought when her breasts were touched, and he was always happy to oblige. As he ran his callused palms over her nipples, he felt a shiver run through her and he smiled. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

She clamped one of her hands over one of his, wordlessly demanding more. He responded by shifting his palm so that he could grip her nipple between his thumb and his index finger. Gently, he massaged it between his fingers, reveling in the hum of approval she provided in response. 

This was why he loved her breasts; she didn’t always tell him what she enjoyed most, but this was one area where her body couldn’t help but give away the truth. It was addictive, coaxing these reactions from her and knowing without a doubt that he was satisfying her. He couldn’t get enough, lapping his tongue over her nipple so he could hear her gasp, nipping at the soft flesh, and praying she could feel the love he was trying to bestow. 

His mouth was still occupied by her breasts as his hands slid down to her stomach, fingertips ghosting over the peaks and valleys of her abdominal muscles. He felt them tense under his featherlight touch and couldn’t help but smile; of course he knew she was ticklish, but every time it presented itself felt like the first time. That such a visibly strong part of her body contained such tenderness was one of the many things about her that had settled deep into his heart.

Reaching behind him, he pushed the covers out of the way so he could better reach her lower half. He kissed his way down her stomach as he shifted further down the bed, hands caressing her waist on their journey to her hips. Everything about her was beautiful, but the curve of her hips was a particular soft spot of his. So much of her body was taut with muscle, but here his fingers could really gain purchase in the soft tissue that padded her curves. His hands were drawn to the spot like a magnet no matter what they were doing, and he was grateful that the action wasn’t too scandalous when they were out in public. He’d always been shy about expressing his desire to Tamora, but gripping her hips and pulling her close had become his preferred method of getting the message across. 

Tamora understood him perfectly, instinctively spreading her legs apart to give him access to where she assumed he was heading next. The sight was certainly tempting as Felix scooted down the bed, but he had something else in mind first. Her disappointed huff was not lost on him as he directed his attention to her thighs, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"You can be patient, can't you?" he teased. "I'm not quite done with you yet."

He didn't wait for her to answer, kissing his way down one of her inner thighs. Patience had never been her strong suit when it came to these matters, and he knew that, just like she knew that he wouldn't torture her on purpose. Even as the tension between them grew, she could sense how important it was to him to pay tribute to every part of her body. Every touch was intentional. So, even though she ached for his touch between her legs, she would see this through without complaint.

"You know what I love most about your thighs?" he asked, his featherlight touch along her inner thighs making her tremble. "They're so muscular and strong. You could probably crush me if you wanted to."

His tone was even as he spoke, pressing an occasional kiss to her skin. He was right, she probably could crush him between her thighs, but she didn't understand what was so appealing about that. He placed a palm on each of her thighs, slowly pushing them further apart and settling down between them. Out of everywhere he'd ever been, his favorite place in the world was right here.

"So when you use those thighs to hold me in place, I know it's because you've got me right where you want me," he explained. "When your legs are wrapped around me, I know I'm doin' something right."

At this, he leaned in close and ran his tongue along her slit. She gasped and arched her back, reaching down to grip his hair between her fingers. He loved this part of her so much, he didn't think he'd ever be able to put it into words. The smell, the taste, the texture against his mouth, his hands, his cock; merely the thought of it was enough to get him going. He loved learning all the different ways he could use it to bring her pleasure, and he loved that he was still learning. He loved that it could push her to climax more than once, and he really loved that they hadn't yet found her limit. Perhaps selfishly, he loved how it felt to be buried inside, to know without a doubt that she was just aroused as he was and to feel her walls pulse and clench around him as she came.

With a renewed focus, he wrapped his lips around her clitoris, lapping and sucking at the tender flesh. Her response was immediate, and while up until now he had managed to ignore his own arousal for the most part, the sound of her moans immediately brought it back to his attention. Under normal circumstances, he might have given in to his desire, but this morning was about something else. Before he could satisfy himself, he wanted to be sure that he treated his current task with the love and attention it deserved. He wanted to involve all of his senses, to engage with every part of her that he loved. Removing a hand from her thigh, he gently slid two fingers into her. A breathy moan escaped him as his fingertips became enveloped by her slick heat; her taste, her nails digging into his scalp, the sound of her moans, all of it was driving him mad.

Felix picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers into her and sucking intently on her clitoris. As her thighs squeezed the sides of his head, a sound he had never made before escaped him, a strange mix between a laugh and a moan, because she knew exactly what that meant to him. Tamora knew it would signal to him that she wanted him to keep going exactly as he was, that he was right where she wanted him. He was overcome by a wave of emotions, love and affection and need, and he knew she understood. This was what he had been trying to tell her all along—something special happened between them in these moments, something unspoken that made him feel more seen than he had ever experienced. His enthusiasm quickly pushed her over the edge, and he savored the sensations around his fingers and against his mouth as she reached her climax and slowly worked her way back down.

As he withdrew his fingers from her and sat up, he watched her, enamored by the complete relaxation in her body as she caught her breath. He thought about asking her if she had felt what he did, but he worried it might ruin what made it so special in the first place. When she finally opened her eyes and met his gaze, he knew without a doubt that she had felt it, too. In that moment, he had never felt closer to her, and a wide smile broke out across his face. She returned it as she sat up to face him.

"Tammy..." he began, quickly losing track of the words he was looking for. "That was amazing."

Still at a loss for words, she reached out for the sides of his face and pulled him to her for a kiss. As he relaxed into her embrace, she felt his erection brush against her leg, and he felt her smirk into the kiss.

"Y'see what you do to me?" he murmured against her mouth. "It's no wonder I can't seem to get enough."

His hands were on her hips, a gentle grip that told her everything she needed to know.

"You know what I think?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

Before he knew what was happening, she flipped him down onto his back, crawling over him with a predatory expression.

"I think this little conversation is far from over."

[spearxwind]

do you guys have any fun shippy memes/posts I could use for drawovers or as inspo 👉👈 I have been wanting to draw the eels again but man im really outta inspo for art in general lately

[rayday-mayday]

I haven't watched One Piece, but looking up who Nami is, I wouldn't be surprised if some women find clothes like that comfortable to wear. Women should be allowed to wear whatever they want, including in fiction, even if the reason behind what those fictional women wear is because of sexual reasons from the creator.

Hell, I'm 99% sure there's at least a part of the One Piece viewer base- even if it's small- that are women that like to wear the type of clothes Nami does, and likes her character/design because of that. Or just people that think her outfit(s) go hard without finding her sexually appealing. Like, just knowing how big that fandom is, how many people exist in the world, etc. It's just sort of inevetable.

For me I had Genshin characters in mind while writing the original post. Specifically Citlali because her promotion art was obviously fanservice aka "gooner bait."

In it she's pushing up her chest with the help of a pillow/plushie thing, has a pout, her facial proportions are very "lolibait"-esque, and have the part where her thigh and hip connect exposed due to her clothes. Here's a link to it if you're curious about what it actually looks like.

And because of this I saw a bunch of Genshin fans ( on TikTok, which honestly isn't surprising ) be upset over this, alongside at least a handful of "redesigns."

One in specific that I saw just changed her face ( made it more mature + colored her lashes white, ) made her boobs less pronounced, and covered her up some more in regards to her leg/thigh/hip situation. That was it. That was the whole redesign.

I don't even like Citlali. She's boring to me and I dislike the entire thing she got going on where she's a grandma ( basically she's really old but doesn't look like it or something. Idk I didn't pay attention. )

But, you know, I think this hate for her promo art is just so excessive, and shows off how a certain part of the fandom can be such big puritans sometimes.

Also, the part in the original post where someone was upset over some fanart with big boobs was also about a Genshin character.

Idk if it's just me that feels this way, but it kinda bugs me when people shame others for liking/playing "gooner" games (aka games with heavy fan service or similar themes.) Hell, even just the term "gooner game" bugs me cuz it inherently comes with a negative connotation and says that games that have sexual themes are bad. Like, what is so wrong with people having sexual desires?

It's even more annoying when people then take characters from these games (looking at the Genshin fandom,) and "fix" or otherwise alter their designs to make them "better" (aka make women's chest smaller/less pronounced, cover up their skin, change their facial proportions to be more mature, etc.) And these design fixes usually mainly happen to the women characters, too, even if there's male characters in the same game(s) who are also heavy fan service (Alhaitham from Genshin and Boothill from HSR, as examples.)

In some cases I can't really be upset either, since some people are just doing redesigns + doing changes that make sense, but it still just gives me the ick. Why? Because I can't tell if their design choices are because it makes sense to fx. cover up the character due to a profession or something in their backstory, or if they're covering up the character to make them "less sexualized."

I've even seen people complain about fanart of an adult character where her chest was drawn a lot bigger than it is in canon while also having an emphasis on it. That was literally it. Yet the OP was still saying "It's art like this that makes me want xyz fandom to eat shit in the most disrespectful way" in the original post. (For context: It was a whisper post posted to Pinterest.)

And the worst part? There's a good chance if I bring this up to some of them that they'll just call me a gooner and dismiss me altogether.

All this behavior just feels like they're both shaming others for having sexual desires, while "telling" the fictional characters to "cover up," that it's not appropriate/okay to show skin, and other similar rhetoric. And I don't think I need to spell out what other group of people does that exact same thing.

[multishipper-baby]

Kinda want to write something about time loops because time loop narratives are fucking awesome but I don't what fandom to write it for. I mean I have a few options but nothing concrete yet.

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than shot-for-shot remakes

Speaking of movies I went to see a movie called Ezra about a kid named Ezra with autism and his dad, and very early on I thought to myself "they better not make Ezra become less autistic as character development." They did that. The movie even made a whole thing about how they can't just make Ezra become normal and how they have to accept Ezra as he is. But apparently they just needed to find the right person to teach him to hold eye contact and hug people. They even show that Ezra still doesn't like touch, but he bravely pushes aside his discomfort and hugs his parents, because apparently a son that a mother can't hug is just no good.

[luna-azzurra]

How to Write a Confession of Love

Build the Emotional Tension Before the big confession, let the tension simmer between the characters. Maybe they share little glances across the room, or their hands brush accidentally but neither pulls away. Every shared laugh or lingering look should leave the reader wondering “Is this it?” When the confession finally happens, it’ll feel like the natural next step, as if both characters have been teetering on the edge of admitting their feelings for a while.

Inner Turmoil Leading Up to the Moment No one’s ever totally confident before saying, “I like you,” or “I love you.” Show the character’s inner freak-out. Maybe they’re wondering if they’re about to ruin everything, or if the other person feels the same. Let them overthink every detail, what if they mess it up? What if they say the wrong thing? This nervousness is super relatable and makes the confession way more intense and vulnerable.

Choose the Right Setting Where the confession happens can completely change the vibe. If it’s somewhere quiet and personal, like on the roof under the stars or sitting close on a couch, it adds a sense of intimacy. But maybe it’s in the middle of a party or a chaotic situation, where emotions are running high and everything’s on the line. The setting should fit the emotions—are they scared? Excited? Confused? Let the environment match their energy.

Don’t Make It Perfect Real life is messy, and confessions of love are no different. Maybe the character fumbles their words, says something awkward, or has to start over. Maybe they get interrupted, or they laugh nervously halfway through. These imperfections make the moment feel real. It’s not about saying the perfect words, it’s about what’s in their heart. Let the raw, unpolished feelings shine through.

Balance Between Show and Tell Obviously, they’re going to say something like “I love you” or “I can’t stop thinking about you,” but actions and body language speak just as loudly. Maybe their voice cracks, they shift closer without realizing it, or they can’t seem to meet the other person’s eyes. Maybe their hands are shaking, or their heart is pounding so loud they can’t hear anything else. Let those little details paint the full picture of how much this confession means.

The Other Person’s Reaction It’s not just about the person confessing, the other person’s reaction is a huge part of the scene. Are they completely shocked? Do they hesitate, or respond right away? Do they get teary-eyed or try to play it cool? The way they react adds layers to the moment. Even a pause before answering can make the scene ten times more intense. Their response shows how much they’ve been waiting for or dreading this confession too.

In short, make it messy, emotional, and real. Readers want to feel the build-up, the fear, the excitement, and the vulnerability of both characters. Don’t be afraid to make things a little awkward or imperfect, that’s what makes a confession unforgettable.

[uzurakis]

could you maybe write when reader throws an engagement / promise ring at jjk characters (please include gojo) during an argument? i love your work btw😩🙏

PROMISE? BROKEN!

featuring: gojo satoru. nanami kento. fushiguro megumi. choso kamo.

n. thankchu for liking my works, it means a ton to me nonnie XD u ask and i shall deliver !

the tension in the room was thick and neither of you seemed willing to back down. voices raised, accusations flew, and frustration mounted. finally, in a fit of anger and hurt, you yanked off your engagement ring and threw it across the room. it landed with a small clink on the floor, the sound echoing in the sudden silence that followed.

GOJO SATORU. gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he was speechless. then, in the midst of that, one irritatingly smug lips played on his face as he tried to lighten the mood. "wow, you’ve got quite the arm," he joked, he literally. just. joked.

his tone playful despite the situation. "maybe you should try out for the baseball team." you glared at him, intensely, still fuming. "this isn’t a joke, satoru!"

still joking around, held up his hands in mock surrender, stepping closer to you. "hey, i get it. you’re mad. but throwing jewelry? that's a new one, baby.” he teased, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

you crossed your arms, trying to maintain your anger. "i’m serious, satoru. this isn’t something you can just laugh off."

he sighed, his expression softening as he reached out to gently take your hands in his. "i know, i know," he said, his voice more serious now as he picked up your ring from the floor. "but you know me. i joke when i’m nervous. and right now, seeing you this upset makes me really nervous. i might piss my pants already, really..”

hesitating, you slowly took the ring from him, the anger starting to melt away. "you really know how to defuse a situation, don’t you?"

the guy grinned, that familiar, mischievous spark returning to him. "it’s one of my many talents. besides, i can’t let my very beautiful fiancée stay mad at me forever, can i?"

NANAMI KENTO. although nanami's body moved briefly, his expression stayed calm and composed. he took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his emotions in check. “alright,” he said, steady as ever. “let’s pick up the ring and sit down to talk.”

“kento, this isn’t something we can just sit down and talk about like it’s a business meeting.” you weren’t dealing with his cool demeanor.

nanami exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “i know you’re upset, sweetheart. i beg you to not throw our ring again. let’s approach this rationally.”

“you always want to be so practical about everything. sometimes, i need more than just rationality…” you complained.

the guy walked over to where the ring had fallen, bending down to pick it up. he held it out to you, expression sincere. “sweetheart, i understand that and i need you to calm down. but we can’t resolve this if we’re not willing to communicate properly.”

“i just… i feel like you’re not listening to me.” reluctantly, you took the ring from his hand, your pent up starting to wane.

he nodded, eyes meeting yours with genuine concern. “i’m listening. i promise. let’s sit down and talk about this. i want to understand what you’re feeling.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “really?” he said, voice low and simmering with resentment. his sharp, green eyes were narrowed and those dark eyebrows were furrowed in frustration, casting a slight shadow over his eyes, which were usually so composed. “you’re just going to throw away the ring?”

you glared at him, your chest heaving with the force of your emotions. “you’re not listening to me, fushiguro megumi! you never listen!”

“oh, i’m listening, alright. you think this is helping? throwing our engagement ring?” he scoffed, jaw clenching, muscles tight as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

you felt a wave of regret wash over you, but your pride wouldn’t let you back down. “maybe it’s the only way to get through to you.”

megumi clenched his jaw for the nth time, maybe holding back other words to keep them from lashing out. taking a deep breath as he tried to rein in his anger. “you know what? fine. if that’s how you feel, maybe we both need to cool off.”

he turned away, clearly struggling to keep his composure. the silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. after a few minutes, he took another deep breath and turned back to face you, his expression softer but still strained. “look, i don’t want to fight like this. throwing the ring… it hurt, alright? but let’s not make things worse.”

you looked down, feeling the sting of guilt. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that.”

the man sighed, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “yeah, well, it’s not exactly something you can just take back. but i get it. you’re frustrated. so am i.”

CHOSO KAMO. “no, baby, please,” he pleaded, voice breaking as his heart sank deeper. it felt like time slowed down, the metal glinting in the light before it hit the floor with a dull thud. he moved towards the ring, expression a jumble of desperation and panic. “don’t do this, please.”

you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, at that moment you knew you did such a wrong thing. choso reached the ring and picked it up, clutching it tightly in his hand as if it were a lifeline. “i’m sorry,” he said, turning back to you whilst trembling. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for it to get this bad. please, let’s talk about this.”

the sight of your fiancée, normally so strong and positive, looking so vulnerable tugged at your heart. “choso, i…”

he took a step closer, holding out the ring to you. “i love you,” he said, being earnest. “i don’t want to lose you over this. can we just sit down and talk? please?”

his genuine remorse washed over you, crawling under your skin. “okay,” you agreed softly, your anger beginning to melt away. “let’s talk.”

choso let out a breath of relief and carefully slipped the ring back onto your finger, “thank you.”

@uzurakis

[oneoftheextras]

lockjaw | j.t

masterlist | tip for the author?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

request: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 2.7k

chapter warnings: a lot of exposition, but trust me

chapter notes: first time writing a hybrid, let me know how i did, this will be multi-chaptered (probably 3)

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

When your friend had suggested you get a pet, this is not what you imagined. 

A cat or dog perhaps, even a fish would've made more sense, this whole thing started with you coming into the shelter asking for just that.

You’d asked about their cats or even their smaller dogs, but they’d all either been adopted or were reserved by potential owners.

“Have you considered a hybrid?” Those five words, and your inquisitive “A hybrid?” Is what landed you in this situation.

The lady excitedly lead you through a few different doors until you were in a room that overlooked a large spacious area.

“There’s so many of them,” you muttered to yourself, but it was clearly loud enough for her to hear you.

“Not many people want a hybrid, they prefer a traditional cat or dog,” her tone was melancholic, and a pang of guilt hit your chest. That was exactly what you’d done.

“Chances are the majority of these guys will spend their whole lives here,” she sighed sadly.

A high pitched yelp interrupted her train of thought as she perked up to see who the culprit was. It seemed to be a pink haired girl, her matching feline ears were pressed back against her head whilst another hybrid had their hand raised into a fist.

“Jinx no!” Your guide leaned over the small balcony to scold her. All the hybrid’s snapped their attention to where her voice was, but the blue-eared one slowly lowered her fist and skulked off to another corner; content that the conflict was over the rest of the room relaxed and continued what they were doing previously.

However, one pair of eyes remained on the balcony.

You couldn’t place it at first, but then you spotted him. His eyes were so piercing that you quickly avoided eye contact.

“Who’s the one on their own?” You asked quietly as if he could hear you. The vet leaned into you and the excitement was radiating off of her.

“That’s Jayce, our chocolate Labrador hybrid,” she paused for you to ask questions, but continued quickly anyway.

“He’s been with us for about 3 months, he was completely feral when we found him. He’d been abandoned by his previous owner when he was a puppy and was surviving on his own for so long,” her voice lost its usual joyful lint the more she spoke.

“When he arrived he was practically uncontrollable, we thought we’d have to separate him from the others entirely,” she paused as she realised her voice was getting louder, “But he bonded well with one of our felines, Viktor his name was, but he was adopted quite quickly-“.

The entire time she was talking your eyes kept darting back to who she was talking about.

He was sat in a chair with with his leg on his knee, away from everyone else, his annoyed gaze continuously on the balcony as if he knew he was being spoken about.

“-We encouraged them to adopt the two of them as a pair, but they didn’t want a canine, so he stayed with us. Unfortunately, some of his feral habits returned but he mostly keeps to himself now,” she finally finished her monologue.

You furrowed your eyebrows with empathy and glanced towards her, "He's lonely, like me," you commented and put your elbows on the railing to rest your chin on your palms, overlooking the space again.

His eyes were still on the two of you, you could feel it.

"Do you want to meet them?" the vet asked a little too swiftly.

The thought bounced around in your mind for a moment, contemplating if you should even entertain this idea; but as you looked around the room you felt your heart ache for them.

You sighed as a sign of conceding to the idea, "Yeah, why not?" you pushed yourself up off of the balcony and turned to the vet, waiting for her to start moving.

The smile on her face was one of relief and joy. It was clear that not many people were jumping at the opportunity to adopt a hybrid, let alone even entertain seeing them.

It didn't take long to get to the 'sanctuary' door - that's what she called the main communal area for them - she swiped her key card and the door beeped open.

For some reason your heartbeat increase slightly as you stepped over the threshold and into the room.

"Hello everyone!" she said in a slightly elevated voice, not loud enough to be shouting but loud enough for it to carry throughout the room. "We have guest today, she's very nice so don't worry," she warned them.

Although the atmosphere didn't feel hostile, it didn't feel welcoming either. The majority of them observed you from a distance.

There were so many questions you had, but you didn't know where to start.

"If we take a seat over here we can let them come to us," she lead you to a sofa in the middle of the room, but as you sat down she moved away to a cabinet to retrieve a big folder.

The time you were alone was minimal but a spike of anxiety went through you, some of the hybrids moved closer to observe you but never close enough to speak to any of them individually.

The vet returned and sat next to you on the sofa, placing the big folder onto the table, "We have all the information on the residents in here," she didn't open it but left it for you, if you felt inclined.

It didn't take long for the blue haired feline from before to bound over and sit next to the vet, "Hello sweetie," the vet said as the feline put her head on her shoulder and started playing with her hair.

"This is-" she started, but this time you interrupted, "Jinx?".

Both the vet and Jinx looked up at you when you spoke, "Yes! She's quite the troublemaker, especially with her sister Vi," she pointed at the pink-haired feline that was being bapped earlier.

"I see," you spoke slowly as you opened the folder to their joint page. 'Must be adopted together', it read in bold under their photos.

"As they're actually siblings, we can't have them separated, it wouldn't be healthy," she explained as she started to tighten one of Jinx's braids.

It reminded you of her story from before and you instinctively raised your head from the folder to where the Labrador hybrid was sitting before, he was still staring at you.

"What type of space are you working with?" you were thankful she was asking you questions, you felt completely out of your depth.

Your eyelids fluttered in surprise, he must be territorial, you thought.

"Just a one-bed apartment," you eventually answered. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the vet lean back to glace at Jayce and her lips curled into a smile again.

"Ah," the noise of disappointment, "That's not a lot of space for play, if you were to adopt it would need to be someone more relaxed,".

She leaned forward and started flipping through the folder, unclipping certain pages and laying them in front of you.

"Unfortunately, they're all a little rambunctious here, but these are who I'd recommend," she'd placed two folders on the table.

"Caitlyn', and 'Ekko", she said aloud even though their names were written down in front of you - Jinx stuck her tongue out and made a 'Bleh' noise when she said Caitlyn.

You spent some time reading their files, they seemed nice enough, two felines; but the whole time you were reading your mind kept drifting back to the one who's eyes you could feel in the side of your head.

"What about-" you started, pausing for a moment to reconsider if you actually wanted to suggest this, but before you could get the courage to complete the sentence the vet interjected with a surprised "Jayce?!".

You glanced up from the pages to ask her how she knew what you were going to say, when you realised there was a large figure basking you in his shadow.

Immediately, your heart started beating quickly again and a nervous rush went through you. "Oh, hello," your voice shook as you spoke.

Now that he was closer you could see that his eyes were a golden yellow, which complemented his chocolatey brown hair pretty well. His nose twitched as if he was also rethinking his approach, or he was catching your scent.

"Jayce, this is..." the vet started the introduction and waited for you to say your name out loud for him, which you did.

His eyebrow raised slightly as he seemed to look you over; from your shoes to the top of your head.

Before, it felt like you couldn't make eye contact with him, but now you were struggling to look away. There was a sadness in his eyes that you recognised all too well, he was lonely too.

Unsure of how to manage the situation, you stuck your hand out for him to shake. He studied your hand silently and without movement, you were starting to think you should put your hand down when he slowly took it.

His hands were large, much bigger than your own and very warm. Although he didn't move his hand, he held a gentle grip on yours and watched where they connected.

"Nice to meet you, Jayce," you tried to say as softly as possible and timidly shook his hand up and down. His brown ears twitched slightly at the mention of his name.

After a few long seconds he let go of your hand and with a quick exhale he walked away.

You blinked a few times and lowered your hand, "Did I do something wrong?" you asked the vet, she chuckled to herself "Not at all, I'm actually surprised he showed any interest at all, he normally never moves from his spot,".

"Oh," was all you could say.

After some time, the vet stood and gestured for you to do the same, leading you towards the exit, "We should leave them to it, we try not to overstimulate them with new people too often,".

Once you were out in the halls again, you asked "Why's his hair so long?". Whilst it wasn't an unmanageable length, it was certainly dishevelled and outgrown.

"He doesn't really let people near him, let alone people with scissors and a razor," she laughed, "Like I said, he still has some feral tendencies, nothing that we're concerned about but it does mean he's a bit scruffy sometimes." she explained.

You nodded slowly to show your understanding. Whilst you felt yourself being drawn towards Jayce, the more you heard about his behaviours the more you were thinking that you weren't cut out to have a hybrid.

"I don't think I’m capable of looking after someone like him," you confessed even though it physically hurt your chest to say.

The vet chuckled again, "When it comes to hybrids, they look after themselves. All you really need to do is feed them, give them a home and attention when they want it.".

She picked up the folder again and flipped through the files, "I know it might seem overwhelming, but we don't just let anyone adopt our hybrids, there's a vetting process to it," she said as she handed you another file.

"What about my apartment? It's only one bedroom, and he's quite..." you didn't know what word to settle on, "Large,".

She nodded at your concern, "Ordinarily, I'd say it was an issue, but for a canine like Jayce, he just needs companionship and intellectual stimulation.".

You took in her words, you were hoping she would agree and tell you that it wasn't possible, that it wasn't meant to be. Then you could let this go and move onto something less demanding.

"Take this home, have a read and see how you feel. If you're still interested we can set up another meeting," you took the file from her and held it close to your chest.

Over the next couple of days, that's exactly what you did.

You read the file over and over, it felt like every detail was engrained into your brain, along with those piercing yellow eyes that were so full of sadness.

He was like you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was your reflection.

"Hello?" you spoke into you phone, the voice on the other end greeted you and asked you to verify your name, which you did.

"How can I help you today?" the receptionist was characteristically bubbly, "I'd like to set up a meeting, please?" you asked hesitantly.

The line was quiet, save for the tapping of her fingers on the keys, "Of course, is that for Jayce?" she eventually said and you felt a bolt of excitement charge through you.

"Yes, please," you confirmed. A few more details were exchanged and the meeting was set, "Perfect, we'll see you tomorrow at 1pm!".

The evening went by too quickly and too slowly at the same time.

Luckily, you worked from home so you were able to be fairly flexible with your availability, despite your morning being relatively unproductive.

Instead of doing your job, you'd spent the first three hours of your shift researching canine hybrids; their needs, requirements and any medical issues.

You'd only just started researching about feral hybrids before you realised the time, 12:30.

When you arrived he was sat in the same chair as before, but this time he wore a black tunic with the sleeves rolled up.

If not for the fluffy ears and tail, you'd think he was a business man or politician of some sort.

As you approached him - with the vet in tow - he stood.

It took you by surprise and your steps faltered. He blinked a few times and his eyebrows softened slightly for a second, before putting his hand out the same way you had a couple days prior.

A soft smile came across your lips as you tentatively took his hand and shook it, he’d copied your gesture to make you comfortable. His touch felt familiar, as if he was someone you’d known for years.

Despite the gentle nature he was showing you, his eyes still bore into you like he was trying to figure out if you were a threat or not.

When he eventually let go of your hand, he sat down and his eyes looked between you and the chair opposite him. He wanted you to sit as well.

You glanced at the soft armchair behind you and side stepped until you were in front of it; before you lowered yourself down, you turned your head back to Jayce to check this is what he wanted.

When there was no change in his demeanour, you plonked yourself into the soft cushions less than gracefully, it was a lot lower and bouncier than you’d anticipated.

“He got this out when he heard you were coming today,” the vet said from behind you, honestly you’d forgotten he was there.

You’d somehow failed to notice that on the table in between the two of you was a chess set, set up and ready for a game.

“I’m sure you’ve already read his file, but Jayce here is very intelligent, he loves these types of games,” the man sounded so proud.

Meanwhile, Jayce stared at him with a displeased facial expression, like he was waiting for him to stop talking.

“I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be over here if you need me,” the man gave you a small wave as he moved to the other side of the room.

This was the first time you and Jayce were somewhat alone, there was a spark of excitement as well as nervousness.

You just hoped he liked you.

part 2

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Write a Character

For creative writing to have as deep an impact as possible, you need to give the reader strong characters they can relate to on a personal level.

By borrowing from tried-and-true character archetypes and giving them your personal spin, you can create heroes, villains, and sidekicks that will affect your readers as if they were real people they knew.

Come up with a backstory

Crafting a backstory can help you flesh out an interesting character profile.

“When I’m dealing with characters,” says legal thriller author David Baldacci, “and I’m trying to explain somebody's situation and motivations, you have to look into their past, because [the] past always drives motivations.”

Ask what experiences your character had in elementary school or high school that shaped who they are today. Your character’s backstory can greatly inform your plot.

Develop a character arc

A character must evolve throughout a story.

“The character has to change,” insists crime fiction writer Walter Mosley. “The character doesn’t have to become better. The character doesn’t have to become good. It could be the opposite. He could start good and become bad. He could start off hopeful and end up a pessimist. But he has to be impacted by this world that we’re reading about.”

Plan out your storyline based on your character's goals and how achieving or not achieving them will change them as people. This sort of template can help anchor your narrative.

Do research

If you plan to set your story in a specific locale or period, do enough research to make your characters seem true to life and believable.

“What does it mean, for instance, in the Tudor era to be a male person?” asks Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale. “What does it mean to be a female person? What do those things mean when they’re at different social levels?”

Empathize with your characters

No matter what the type of character you’re developing, try to find some reason you and your reader can relate to their internal conflict.

“You’re living with these people every single day for months at a time—in some cases, years at a time,” says acclaimed children’s author Judy Blume. “You had better feel for them. So, for me, yes, I have great empathy for them.”

When people can empathize with characters, they’re more likely to find them compelling.

Experiment with different approaches

If you usually write characters from a particular point of view (or POV), change things up to challenge yourself.

“Write about someone entirely through the eyes of their friends and family,” suggests journalist Malcolm Gladwell. “So do a profile of someone where you deliberately never talk to the person that you’re profiling.”

There are plenty of ways to craft compelling character descriptions—free yourself up to try new alternatives.

Give your characters flaws

To craft believable characters, you need to give them flaws.

“One, it makes the characters human, just by default, because everybody recognizes that we all have flaws and mistakes,” David says. “But two, it gives you plot elements and plot opportunities because somebody makes a mistake. Why? Because they’re flawed.”

Learn from real people

Pay attention to real people’s mannerisms, personality traits, body language, and physical appearances.

Do research, and be respectful, when you want to write characters with backgrounds that you are not familiar with. Become familiar with different people's cultures, sexual orientations etc.

Talking to people about their experiences will help form your character’s personality.

Let your characters surprise you

Character development can proceed down a host of different avenues.

“Spend a lot of time with your characters and getting to know them,” Judy suggests. “And the way that you get to know them can be different from the way I get to know them. But my way is: They don’t come alive until I write about them, until I put them down on paper.”

As you write, your character’s motivation or perspective might change from what you originally planned.

Play characters off each other

Ask yourself how a secondary character’s personality might thwart the main character’s motivation.

“One of the best ways, as I said, to develop a character is to put that character in relationship to another person,” Walter says. “So as they talk, as they fight, as they work together, we find out more about who they are and what they are.”

The character’s close friends, adversaries, and acquaintances might all have different effects on their behavior.

Take an organic approach

Over the course of the story, be ready for your characters to surprise you as much as the people you know in real life might, too.

Your characters may take on a life of their own.

Avoid static characters by letting yours have their own lives and personalities. Let their stories take you where they lead.

Writing Notes & References

[shiny-jr]

Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I love the way you write Malleus so I was hoping you would do yandere malleus x reader. where the reader knows twisted wonderland is a game (but not imposter au pls) and after they got isekia'd are trying to stop the overblots from happening and malleus is just terrified for them. Idk just an idea I've had for awhile but never found a fanfic like lol. Obviously it's totally fine if you don't want to do it or if I accidentally broke a rule. Anyway remember to drink some water and take a break if needed! Have a amazing rest of your day/night!!

Warning: Yandere (not really, not at all). Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Malleus Draconia.

Summary: MC sees affection meters and it's not good.

Note: These are mainly thoughts and random words my mind spewed out.  

How did one claim victory at a game? Well, it entirely depended on the game, the mechanics and the options. It should've been impossible to lose a mobile game that was primarily composed of the gacha mechanism and visual novels.

When you suddenly found yourself in the series of twisted villains in a prestigious school of magic, you found that it was much more complex than it appeared on screen. Especially when only you could see these small bars occasionally floating above people's heads. Bars which you recognized as affection meters, nearly all of them stagnant at a dull gray 0% when you first arrived. This was the hurdle blocking your way to an easy victory. Because how else were you to escape the game, other than complete it?

Situations became messier, when you didn't have a dialogue options between two mere choices. Add making good impressions and keeping a character's favor, to the list of quests alongside avoiding death by inky overblotted characters. By some miracle, you had increased the affection of the characters you met and interacted with to a healthy 5% or 10%, sometimes more. At any cost you wished to avoid getting in the negatives, because you did not want to find out what would happen then.

Sometimes, the numbers would drop dangerously close to zero, mainly when an overblot was occuring. Never had you realized how the visual novel failed spectacularly at portraying the utter horror of the overblotted in all their wicked glory. The black inky darkness leaking from them like tears or blood with those crazed unhinged looks in their eyes–– was the stuff of pure nightmares.

And yet the one whose overblot you had been dreading the most, the dorm leader of Diasomnia, was surprisingly docile as you dealt with others. However, you knew even when conversing with him, that you would one day witness him overblot and look like some ethereal but deadly fallen angel. So mentally you prepared yourself, while taking on the task of keeping up appearances.

Malleus' affection meter, was a good 20% and a friendly pink shade, quite the accomplishment you were proud of, considering the majority of the cast wasn't even at 15%. The Draconia heir was certainly someone you never wanted to see reach below zero, so you did your absolute best to appeal to him, even if he was quite intimidating at first with the way he stoically watched you complain about the least of your worries, homework and classes.

By the time you spoke to him about your troubles with the Ramshackle dorm and Azul, during what you knew was the Octavinelle arc, the prince's affection had sprouted to a 22%. When you went into more detail of the potential loss you could face, it went to 23%.

The next time you saw him, you were weary and antsy since witnessing Azul's break-down. If the blot of his tears had the magic to gather, it would've been enough to drown, you were sure of it. Even by that maniac look in his eyes, you're sure he would've purposely drowned you if he got close enough.

Throughout that charlatan's chapter, his affection meter had slowly been rising, dropping during the overblot like the tides only to rise once again by the end to a good 45%. This was good!

But no matter how much you may have pondered, strategized, or try to predict each next action, you could've never guessed that the next time you saw Malleus after Azul's overblot, his expression taut with concern, his affection meter had made a jump to 55% and turned red. This entire time you had been avoiding the negatives, but you never once worried of the dangers and implications a red affection meter above 50% would mean for you. Or heaven forbid, anything close to 100%.

[literatureloverx]

this might sound odd or silly but i have always thought that a person’s sleeping position tells a lot about them - and since you’re very good with fedya and have a good grasp of his character i’ve been wondering; how do you think him and his darling sleep? does he let you cuddle up to him? does he spoon you? does he prefer keeping his space? or does he want to feel his darling close even during sleep?

Wow, such a thrilling request. ♥️

I made this for all the BSD men I’m currently writing for because I could already sense the requests that would come in if I only wrote for Fedya…

So, enjoy, my dear. ♥️

some BSD men being big babies (Dazai), some suggestive undertones, fluff.

BSD MEN x sleeping positions with their darlings

Fyodor Dostoevsky

I can totally see him as the dominant, protective type of big spoon.

He’d hold you close, his beloved princess, with his arms wrapped around you, burying his nose into your fresh-scented hair and neck.

The sound of your steady breathing would be so adorable and soothing to him.

He doesn’t sleep much, but when he does, he loves doing it with you.

He always feels more refreshed sleeping by your side than alone.

Having never been used to a clear routine, his cold heart warms at the sense of peace and consistency he finds with you—sleeping together being one of those cherished moments.

I don’t see him being strictly against cuddles, but he definitely likes to be in control of the situation and values his personal space.

That’s why he prefers being the big spoon—it gives him a sense of comfort and control. It would also be more comfortable for him if you didn’t overwhelm him with cuddles, allowing him to initiate physical affection on his terms.

He’s a very quiet and still sleeper, preferring when you stay in your place, right where you belong, close to him.

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is the kind of man who GLOWS under your affection, radiating a feeling that might even come close to a will to live—or maybe not.

If you want to cuddle him, he’s all in, making the most adorable and exaggerated noises when you shower him with love before bed.

Most of the time, I see him as the little spoon, soaking up your warmth.

But when the day—or Dazai—has exhausted you, he’d switch to being the big spoon, extra clingy, hugging you from behind (especially if you’re trying to escape his endless affection).

Then there are those days... when he trusts you more deeply, when his heart aches silently, when his depression weighs on him.

When he’s afraid but doesn’t show it, feeling empty, but you’re the one keeping that emptiness at bay.

On those nights, he’d want to face you, watching you intensely as you sleep, making sure you won’t disappear like Odasaku did.

He’d stay awake all night, keeping an eye on you, unable to rest until you wake up and coax him into sleep with melatonin spray and soft, loving kisses.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya loves holding you close, but what he loves even more is feeling like your big, tall, strong man.

He still makes you feel completely protected.

That’s why he’d either be the big spoon or have you sleep on his chest, the latter being more likely.

His strong arms would wrap around you possessively while your head rests on his chest, moving gently with each breath. He adores watching you fall asleep and only rests after seeing you completely relaxed. He’s entirely captivated by you, loving every second.

When spooning, his face is buried in your neck, breathing in your scent with possessive tenderness.

Occasionally, he might nip or kiss your neck, not to tease but simply because he can’t resist the urge.

He sleeps quietly, barely moving, and keeps the AC on just so you cling to him more—he loves every bit of it.

He’s all in for you, and in private, you have free rein to do whatever you like; he's always happy to be close to you.

Nikolai Gogol

Nikolai thrives on surprises and excitement, making sleep a challenge when he’s around.

He finds sleeping dull and would rather engage in playful antics with you.

When you lie down, expect a mischievous smirk on his face as he tries to keep you awake with jokes, riddles, and philosophical debates.

His presence will be impossible to ignore—whether he's spooning you or not, your legs will always be intertwined.

He’ll roll around in bed, pulling you close and protesting dramatically if you try to move away.

Nikolai’s antics ensure that you can't escape his playful demands.

Just give in to his whims and enjoy the playful chaos, and maybe he’ll eventually get bored and let you sleep.

Akutaga Ryuunosuke

He is distant, even when he wishes that he could be less stiff at your side.

He sleeps motionless, without cuddling you, spooning you, or doing anything else. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling.

If you wish to cuddle him, I see him being totally okay with that because you’re in private, in your shared bed, and he actually does love it—he’s simply not good at voicing his true feelings.

He loves it when you cuddle him and spoon him without him having to ask or face you while you’re sleeping.

He won’t tell you that, but it won’t change the fact that he prefers sleeping with you rather than by himself.

[hamliet]

Derry Girls: A Masterclass in Detailed, Thematic Writing

Several years after the end, I finally watched Derry Girls, and it's become one of my favorite shows. Not only for the way it captures the absolutely unhinged aspects of Irish families (askmehowiknow) but for the sheer writing skill.

The vast majority of the episodes are laugh-out-loud hilarious, while also offering insightful commentary on the Troubles and on humanity's foibles as a whole. The characters are allowed to be human and act in unlikable, unsanitized ways, and to still be human and come back from that. (Almost like a metaphor for the Troubles or something.)

The story is also incredibly detailed; for example, when the girls are accused of killing a nun and Erin points out the nun was like, 98 years old and askes "might that shed some light on the situation?" there's an hourglass behind Sister Michael--emphasizing the idea that her time was up. Even more than that... the window is behind the hourglass, literally shining a light on it.

But that's a micro level. On a macro level, I also appreciated the way the story discusses the political backdrop that is part of its premise. Even as Erin, Michelle, James, Clare, and Orla grow up in a place that's been in a state of low-level warfare for decades, they live full lives. In fact, that's kinda the point.

Case in point: episode 4 of the first season, wherein Erin gets an exchange student from Chernobyl. The way the Northern Irish in general treat the Ukrainians is hilariously awful and patronizing, believing that they are giving them a respite from the troubles "over there" while Northern Ireland isn't in a much better state. But, as Sister Michael assures the Ukrainian students, the Irish troubles don't matter because "we're the goodies."

This line gets to the heart of what the episode is saying about political divisions and the way people view an "other." Everyone sees themselves as the "goodies." Because of that, they don't self-examine and wind up hurting the people they see themselves as wanting to help/save with their ignorance. It's a paradoxical egotistical (and frankly teenage) worldview that is also unwilling to look critically at oneself. The focus on their own perceptions over focusing on the actual humanity of the other results in ruining gifts that could come with cross-culture interaction, as seen in how Erin's misunderstandings and petty jealousy of Katya leads to her literally ruining a surprise gift Katya had prepared.

And the end of the episode also comments thematically on the story. One of the Ukrainian boys turns out not to be Ukrainian after all--he's actually Irish and from just down the road. He just didn't know how to say that. The ironic message is clear: despite differences in culture and views, they are actually all human beings, and assumptions make it hard for people to speak. If they could actually talk openly and without presumptions about who is "good" and who is "bad," they could prevent and solve a lot of problems.

This kind of background, symbolic commentary on the Troubles continues in just about every episode of the series. For example, even after the ceasefire, season 3 has an episode where it's discussed how negotiations are stalling, and the entirely of the rest of the episode takes place on a train that stalls between two separate places.

The Troubles are always something affecting their lives, but the only time the Troubles ever become the main story is in the finale episode. Which is also an episode that makes everyone cry. Michelle's brother is finally mentioned for the first time the entire series, yet it doesn't feel like a retcon so much as a recontextualization, and again mirrors how a lot of society (and Michelle's own family) have treated those who murdered others during the conflict.

Erin and James' relationship also works as a metaphor for the Troubles--an Irish Catholic girl and an English boy. Earlier in season 3, after they finally kiss, they're told they can't be together, that it's wrong, and that it'll create problems for everyone around them. Michelle doesn't want things to change. And Erin agrees that it's not good to pursue something.

But, in the final scenes, as Erin prepares to vote in the Good Friday Agreement and talks to James, she directly states she thinks things can't stay the same forever--thereby countering what she said to reject James earlier:

There's a part of me that wishes everything could just stay the same. That we could all just stay like this forever. There's a part of me that doesn't really want to grow up. I'm not sure I'm ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for the world. But things can't stay the same, and they shouldn't. No matter how scary it is, we have to move on, and we have to grow up, because things... well, they might just change for the better. So we have to be brave. And if our dreams get broken along the way... we have to make new ones from the pieces.

Symbolically, also, given that we know the outcome of the Good Friday Agreement, I think it's pretty clear Erin and James end up together even if we're not directly shown it.

That the last shot of the episode (besides the funny epilogue) is Grandda Joe, one of the eldest characters, helping his youngest toddler granddaughter Anna leap over a threshold as they leave the voting station, is also incredibly clear in its symbolism.

Erin: People died. Innocent people died, Grandda. They were someone's mother, father, daughter, son. Nothing can ever make that okay. And the people who took those lives, they're just gonna walk free? What if we do it, and it's all for nothing? What if we vote yes and it doesn't even work? Grandda Joe: And what if it does? What if no one else has to die? What if this all becomes a--a ghost story you'll tell your wee-un's some day? A ghost story they'll hardly believe?

I dunno, I think this is a sentiment we need more of in the world. A peaceful future means taking risks and accepting that punitive justice will not be perfectly doled out; however, if you allow more people to be hurt, is that not also injustice? It's a paradox that the story leaves us without a dogmatic answer to (for example, we never find out if Michelle's brother gets released), but it's also hopeful--because we know that the Good Friday Agreement largely worked.

(For further analysis of the final scene, I recommend PillarofGarbage's analysis on YouTube!)

[bamsara]

If given the motivation I would ramble more about Trod, specifically Tyren and how he's my little dude but also a character who's behavior I've based on being a victim of obsession and idolization myself and how it's very cathartic to write a character exhibiting all the traits, both good and bad I've experienced in the Lamb's position and then knowing exactly how his story ends

That and some Narinder rambles and how Lamb is more comfortable with him than a sweet dog that surely shows more respect for them (idolization that does not see them as a person)

edit: nevermind I did end up rambling. Some TROD spoilers

its great I love this stupid dog and his scheming ways and writing just *why* he's doing what he's doing with genuine belief it's to better protect what and who he loves without actaully taking into account the subject of his affection's feelings on the whole matter. He would never hurt the lamb physically but clearly that three eyed cat is nothing but stress for them (and is he wrong? is Narinder not a source of stress? We are not light in the 'enemies' part of the friends to enemies to friends to lovers part of the trope)

Though the difference between Narinder and Tyren, the rehabilitation and the corruption, although all entitlement, is agency.

Narinder often touts himself as uncaring and hostile to the Lamb and is still angry from the betrayal, as they are, but their agency is still considered even in anger.

In the Fox chapter where Narinder wishes to sacrifice Grekimar and Tyren, Lamb refuses. They argue about it and Lamb stands their ground, Narinder is unhappy about it but does not go behind their back and sacrifice cultists anyway when he very well could.

After reuniting after the fight when Leshy is revived, Narinder and Lamb argues heavily over the subject of whether or not Narinder is allowed to kill Leshy, someone who harmed both him AND the Lamb severely, and even though he's bitter about it, Narinder acknowledges the Lamb was not given a choice prior and will sacrifice his own revenge and comfort so the Lamb can have their agency returned, at least a little bit.

^^^ This one is a complicated one because between both characters, neither killing the bishops nor keeping them alive would result in both characters getting what they want, with reasonable desires for it (wanting to have choice again, wanting revenge on their tormentors, ect)

so Narinder essentially sacrifices his comfort for the Lamb, someone who is constantly sacrificing pieces of themselves and sanity to keep everything in peace

It works the otherway around as well: Narinder demanding talismans and God Tears and Relics from the Lamb and they agree, not because they're required to do what he says but because that's their friend, and they trust him enough to help him with whatever he's doing

(and back to the argument where the refusal to sacrifice two followers was in exchange for some of their heart, Narinder refuses and breaks the deal off immediatly even though the Lamb was willing. The Lamb is obviously more important than whatever goal he had in mind, essentially scrapping his partnership with the Fox and method to gain power because he didn't want his usurper to be weakened. and other things.)

I won't talk about EVERY instance of this because this is already a long post, but overtime the two are forming communication, compromise, and even in anger, there is a respect there that puts them on the same level as equals.

Tyren does not really fall into that.

Tyren would never, and I mean NEVER hurt the Lamb physically. He would never yell at them, never be angry with them, never be upset with them, because he does not see them enough as a person to feel those things around them. And if the Lamb does disagree with him or make him upset, he will simply....disregard their current feelings on the situation and do what he thinks is best for him and them, even if it goes directly against their wishes.

And unlike Narinder, he would do it behind their back to stay in their good graces.

Tyren does care for the Lamb. Genuinely. He did long before that necklace was around his neck. He was already a little obsessed before the loyalty necklace was on him, it just gave him a slight edge.

He respects them but also doesn't. He takes their rejection at the party in stride and is completely unphased by it, completely understanding, but also plots to kill someone the Lamb called a 'friend' because the three-eyed hermit is clearly stressing them out and it makes no sense as to why they're crusading with him, or spending time with him when he's been nothing but a murderer and a blight.

I think a good summary of all this ramble is that when the Lamb tells Narinder to leave Tyren alone, Narinder goes 'whatever i fucking hate you and this stupid cult anyways. die forever' but does what they ask, while Lamb tells Tyren to please leave Narinder alone, and Tyren goes 'sure! :) anything for you my lamb' and digs up a corpse and drops it's mashed remains outside of the cat's hut with a fake letter from the Lamb saying it's 'breakfast'.

Narinder and Tyren are both very selfish, but in different ways

None of this probably makes sense

It is also 6AM