#i was hooked in the first fuckin paragraph

[ohkate]

My Spicy Vanilla- and AI Generated Gallavich Story, aka, why you shouldn't use AI to write.

So I've never used AI, but I've been curious because I see a lot of people posting about how bad it is to use these types of things. I kept thinking that maybe it wasn't so bad...I mean, what's the harm if it could help come up with a good title or a prompt or something? So I randomly googled 'sexy story generator' and found this gem of a site and put in a basic description of Ian and Mickey and asked it to write a smut story. Now... in order to access the full thing, I'd have to create an account which I'm not willing to do. But it gave me a short excerpt and I think it's honestly the *chef's kiss* of crack fic and I couldn't not post it.

Do NOT use fucking AI to write a story. You don't need to. Your writing is fine, even if it's not. Some of my stuff is shit and no one cares. And people will still tell me what a good job I'm doing even when I know they are like a parent putting up a crappy drawing their kid did on the fridge.

Seriously, this is hilarious and also horrifying.

-----

My Spicy Vanilla

I, Mickey, never thought I'd be the kind of guy to gush about love and all that mushy stuff. But here I am, head over heels for my husband, Ian. And what makes it even more surprising is that I, the tough, street-smart dude, am a total bottom for this man.

When we met, I was sitting at the counter at the bar, sipping my beer, minding my own business, when this tall, gorgeous redhead walks in. His vibrant hair caught my eye immediately, like a flame igniting in a dark room. I watched as he scanned the crowd, his green eyes searching, and I felt this weird urge to stand out, to be noticed by him.

Little did I know, he was looking for a hookup, a quick fling to satisfy his carnal desires. And I, being the confident bad boy I am, thought I'd be the perfect candidate. I approached him, my blue eyes daring him to reject me. But he didn't. Instead, he smiled, and that smile was like a key unlocking something deep within me. Deep within my ass.

"Hey, stranger," I said, my voice low and raspy. "Buy you a drink?"

Ian's eyes lit up, and he accepted my offer, sliding onto the barstool next to me. We chatted for hours, and I learned that he was new in town, looking for a fresh start. His sweetness and charm had me hooked, and before I knew it, I was inviting him back to my place to fill that hole in both my heart and my butthole.

In the dimly lit hallway of my apartment building, we kissed passionately, our tongues dancing wildly. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and I knew he wanted me. But something in his touch, gentle yet demanding, made me pause. I realized I didn't want this to be just a one-night stand. I wanted more.

"Ian," I whispered between kisses, "I want you, but I want it to mean something."

He pulled back, his green eyes searching mine. "It can mean whatever you want it to, Mickey. I'm not looking for a quick fuck. I want to take my time with you."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I knew I had to have him. But on my terms.

"Then let's take it slow," I suggested, my voice hoarse with desire. "Let me show you how it feels to be wanted, to be worshipped."

I took his hand and led him into my apartment, dimming the lights to create a sensual ambiance. We kissed again, but this time, I was in control. I pushed him gently onto the couch, straddling his lap, my erection rubbing against his through our jeans.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Ian," I whispered, my breath hot against his ear. "Let me make you feel good."

With skilled fingers, I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his smooth, pale skin. My hands traveled down his chest, tracing his defined abs, before unbuckling his belt. I wanted to tease him, to make him beg for my bottom ambrosia.

As I slid his jeans down his long legs, his thick cock sprang free, hard and straining towards me. I couldn't resist any longer. I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head, tasting his pre-cum. Ian moaned, his hands gripping the couch cushions, giving me silent stares of longing. The night held promises of fulfilled desire.

[aachria]

Okay so this is extremely irrelevant, like you don’t even have to respond. But I got my bf completely hooked on this fic and he loves it so much. We literally have a sleepover every Sunday, stay up for the update and take turns reading the latest chapter aloud like a bedtime story.

His friend called me the other day, full on geeking out over the sick as fuck upgrades on Ed’s guns. Turns out my bf talked about it so much his mates decided to read it. I used to be terrified of them (they’re all around 6 foot, muscley ash, footy players) until they invited me to a hangout to chill and talk about SSSBMTY, they even had a wall of theories, busted out some red string and everything.

I didn’t even know they watched one piece, I’m pretty sure some of them had never even heard of it before this.

So congratulations, you have successfully infiltrated a group of popular college boys from Australia.

Genuinely I’m so thankful for you and your writing. Idgaf how stupid it sounds but I’ve made friends and my relationship is genuinely better off because of it.

Bae idk how you do this but if you ever get sad just remember there’s a bunch of big ass NRL players on the other side of the world who idolise you.

Srsly you’ve converted them all, one dude just emailed me his fucking ZOSAN COFFEE SHOP AU to proofread. Keep in mind this is an extremely straight, one piece dude bro. I have to teach him about paragraph breaks but it’s very sweet.

Sorry this is so long lmao.

Ok first that's fucking adorable couple activities and I am jealous beyond belief. More than that I'm fucking ELATED you have people to bond with over this fic, words fail to describe how damn happy it makes me to hear about the people who read my work connecting with each other irl. Whether it's you chucklefucks somehow managing to find each other in the wild or infecting people with SSSBMTY like a virus, I just fucking adore you.

I am my own target audience when I write so the fact this fuckin' thing is so far reaching BOGGLES MY MIND. I would give nearly ANYTHING to see this red string theory wall you have no IDEA—

The shot of straight crack to my god complex knowing a bunch of tall buff NRL players think I'm cool is immeasurable and insane. I have a confidence high that will last until I'm dead. I don't know if I'll be recovering from this one, emotionally.

TELL HIM TO DROP THE ZOSAN COFFE SHOP AU WITH PARAGRAPH BREAKS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS—

[humanmorph]

PALISADE 28.crazy good this week etc

New radio person for the intro...! This comes at a good moment. I still miss Baldwin Home like. That very first PALISADE intro is genuinely so hard to beat... but this feels good. I'm once again thinking about Austin writing these... The style used for Black Screens intros obviously shines through (she's his protégé) but she does have her own voice already (way more rhyming? I mean, I'd have to doublecheck HIS intros, it's literally just a feeling). Just the tone used and intonation already does a lot. Austin is so good at this fr. I'm still curious how he even approaches that. Also the "watch me unloose 80 Ls on these next lines" I knewwww that's 80 Ls for real as soon as Parti said illogical. I wonder if he wrote that bit first trying to see how many Ls he could fit in there & then finetuned it to get to a good number? I guess that's just how I would do it.

(who knows if we'll ever get a description for Parti. we never did for Black. maybe if she shows up in a conflict turn somehow? so im just fuckin around for now... i haven't sold myself on the clothes. i'm just not a fashion guy. but i do like the braids)

Oh & new guy alert part 2!!! New Keith character! And he has a funny hat. Not even funny as in goofy it just makes me laugh a bit because my dad and maybe every 5th 70+ y/o man I see has a hat like that. Love the sequin poncho.

(btw I am almost certain Keith has posted a picture of that teapot on Cohost before... He posts about tea sometimes so there's at least a chance. I mean the description of the coloring he gives is actually pretty good IMO, you can work with that, but I as an artist I like to have a visual reference. EDIT: someone just asked him. thank you keith and also rosecrest)

I have the. I got Armor Astir & a lot of the playbooks other people made in a bundle a while back and I'm real torn if I should just look at the Investigator because I'm really curious. But. I also love to be surprised. So I probably won't, but it's good to know I COULD, if I wanted to. Anyways, I was pretty sure it'd be another B-Plot character too, just because it makes sense. Brnine COULD go alone on a B-Plot, I guess, but it's more fun with 2 groups to jump between, surely. Though this means the Eclectic-Brnine dynamic is crucial! I hope they can meet up soon... But yeah I just really am gonna miss Phrygian backing them up and cheering and clapping and asking questions. They were so fun together... A great team :' (

ok so I wrote everything else about Eclectic down yesterday & then noted down "vibes?" as break between paragraphs because all I had at that point was the description & I wanted to get back to this. And ooohhh my god the vibes are fucking immaculate right off the bat I'm having a hard time to not Already be obsessed with this guy he's SO funny conceptually and it KEPT getting better... Truly delighted with this new type of guy (& Keith is doing a voice!). And I fucking love the hooks. Truly so great to me. The thought of these getting loosened OR deepened is already really really good. "Leap says"..... oh it's SO funny I keep laughing to myself

And I'm VERY excited it's a delegate like genuinely so happy. I was mourning the loss of a branched onscreen (okay.I still am) but this does make it worth it. Ever since they got introduced basically I so badly wanted to know anything more about them, but especially what Austin mentioned in the episode itself: the delegates relationships to the divines they are made from & of course the divines themselves (who are alive!!! Apparently that was already written in a dossier way back when, but I rarely read those). That has me sooo excited.

Oh and the like... I only thought about this just now but the connection there to Thisbe's new project is. That's gotta be something! "The divine who's being held captive somewhere on this planet, and has been tortured for millennia" hearing a message of... That this can end & rest is possible and it's SO CLOSE? But does that just make it worse... Ohhhhh. Yeah this rules. What a great idea.

That project generally is really... god, I love Thisbe so much. I love how Janine talks about her and what she thinks and why she does what she does. Thisbe's relationship to work and being a tool and of use is so interesting to put here, with the divines wanting to rest. (And Janine saying something like... Thisbe thinks of herself in relation to divines how Mow is to her? Kind of?) And saying it seems so solitary a project... every divine should know about it. Every divine deserves the right to rest. But it's also a call to action of sorts when she talks about like... "shouldn't you want to protect this?" I think her "Fighting is not my purpose, but there is nowhere else for me until the fighting is over." hook could be in conservation here too... Also I'm just looking forward for Thisbe to Broadcast again. It was like, one of her things in PARTIZAN. I really liked her & Cori working on this together with the. Experience they just had behind them. Sylvi & Janine reading the hooks for each others characters kind of sheepishly was soooo funny "I forgot how bitchy this was!". That's good stuff to me. (as an aside: god, Thisbe has always had good as hell hooks/beliefs/whatever else. Remember "Operant Broun lies to me because they believe I am a person."? Banger. ) I also love that she thought of this/about this at the rib(?) of Barricade. Barricade as an axiom who had this close (& good, protective) relationship with another axiom...

btw now that Leap is NOT coming back I do miss him a bit. Mostly out of principle like I am So happy we have Eclectic but Leap is my guy.... shoutout to him... being a bitch bastard pirate out there in space... + shoutout to Figure A too always : ) (speaking of, on the Gathering Information Extra bit from today he talked about if he had played Leap, picking a class that also had like, a crew, and I'm mostly just really curious who that would've been. I would love for Keith to make up some funny guys for Leap to order around. I wonder if Eclectic or an Eclectic type would've been on that?)

(Also Leap investigating Motion. Ok. To ME it's at least partly bc this was so important to Millie. And he has reason to be concerned generally he fought Motion too but. That's MILLIE'S rival! And it doesn't even have to be at the front of his mind when he does this. Maybe it isn't. But it's real & it's something to remember her by through actual action. Because he's not the sentimental type.Do you get me.?)

Brnine talk show. This was sooo good. After they joked about it in PAL25 too. I recognized the hosts name, but wasn't quite sure from where until I read the dossier - of course he's that guy from the podcast. God. I have got to relisten to that sometime... I remember Ali on one of the recent Gathering Information ep (the one w/ Austin on, I think) mentioning a conversation that was like. stressful to do. and then also to listen to? (since she has to for production/editing) and I figured it would be another Gucci-type talk but ooohh my god. This was sooo. EDIT: ACTUALLY what if it wasn't even. What if it's about to be this talk with Rye edit: GALLICA i cant believe noone called me on this. mixing my elects up. rye is the one gur killed (mvp). Austin was sounding a bit ominous about it at the end of this episode! HUGE shoutouts to Ali again she is just absolutely killing it this season for real... And I honestly feel like overall Brnine was, considering the situation, doing very well. Genuinely. You're feverish and hollowblooded and have this fucking. Guy needling you & asking the stupidest questions... & like. "You made Kalmeria. They'd never let you rot in jail." of courseeee they want Brnine working for them. They're so GOOD at what they do. They messed with the parts of A Fucking Divine. . I just had a scary thought and it involved Mustard Red. But. Surely not. Nooo. I'm shaking my head. However Arbitrage? An Arbitrage deal (like they tried to make them take before) would work just perfectly for this, wouldn't it...

some other stuff:

When Austin mentioned Grand Mag in that vision Cori had I thought something like 'man. sucks to be him : (' but like. In a genuine way. "I can't stop it from hurting people a little"........... Hah oh wow I just thought of this but I am so excited for people who haven't listened to TM to meet him now. He's not even my favourite he just makes me crazy in a way almost no other character does? Like there's something so WRONG with him. And there's things wrong with a lot of FatT characters but it's like... Well. Grand Magnificent.

I love the thought of them watching Brnines interview at the next movie night (POOR BRNINE.) but I also want to know what Eclectic would pick for movie night. Oh and Partial too. Though he may not be staying I would still really love to know. Partial coming on board for the mission has me intrigued generally.

Oh and Gur talking! Even if just a little. I still feel so bad for them. "I believe in whispers in ears"... and they have reason to now. Figure is a person trying their best to do good & make changes, which is what Gur wants. I just wish they weren't a specter haunting someone elses body & what even happens when Figure rolls a 10+. Is Gur still there and Figure just stops seeing him? oohh it hurts a bit.you can't do this to him you can't (related: I extremely forgot about the other specters and ghosts and ghouls and whatnot that Figure can also see. It's not just my friend Gur Sevraq. Looking forward to hear more about that & how it affects Figure so much as to roll with disadvantage!)

Love to learn just a little more about devotion. I really need to just relisten to that again & think about it a bit harder.

At one point Austin says "Still flanked by guards, you are" and it caught me off guard & made me wheeze. He didn't even do that on purpose . I get him I do this way too often(realize I forgot to say part of a sentence and pack it at the end)

[loadednachosao3]

What are your tips for writing fics? I’m working on an lacho one rn but I’m pretty shy/nervous to upload it.

ok, sorry this took a while to answer, I had to ruminate on it! here are my big tips:

if you give a fuck about characterization (not required if ur having fun), watch the source material a bit first! some clips or whatever. you can get the characters' voices in your head that way, which helps with keeping things consistent.

write first, edit later! anything can be changed. just put it in the word document and don't think too hard on your first pass!

pls pls try not to use epithets (i.e. "the brunette did this" or "the Marine did that"), they really take away from the flow imo! whenever possible, it's best to stick to names and pronouns.

don't be afraid to just use "said" for a dialogue tag. not everything needs to be "he growled, she yelled, they purred." but those tags are also useful, so don't think you should never use them!

try to stay away from big, beefy paragraphs. they're hard on the eyes and usually a slog to get through. of course, this is a matter of style, but I personally can't stand opening a fic and seeing a bunch of 12-sentence paragraphs, especially if the dialogue isn't separated from it!

relatedly: drip-feed your information. you don't need to tell us everything about the setting and the plot right away! have confidence your readers will be smart enough to understand the world the longer they read.

whenever possible, start with a hook. like a snappy line of dialogue or something really interesting that catches the attention and makes the reader think, "I want to know more!" look up first lines of famous novels to get an idea of how the pros do it.

this is the MOST IMPORTANT ONE: have FUN!! remember that fic-writing is NOT pro novel writing or anything. it's all about putting that guy in a fuckin SITUATION. all my tips aside, so what if your prose isn't mind-blowing? so what if your characterization differs from canon? so what if you write something people don't like? it's all about YOU. your fantasies, your world, your fun! write for yourself first and foremost, because otherwise, people can tell you don't have passion in it, and they won't like it as much. that's the honest truth!

this turned into more general writing advice than specifically fic, but I hope it helps a bit!

[metatextuality]

first lines meme

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to, and see if there are any patterns!

tagged by @whetstonefires!

(Last ten published works, huh? That does rather narrow it down...)

1. The Man Who Would Not Stop for Death – a short, pulpy original noir scene for The Merry Whump of May.

The problem with discovering your payday is committing felonies — apart from the fact that they're committing felonies at all, of course — is that your odds of getting paid take a sharp downturn.

2. The Man and the Moon – a longform noir serial in which the same protagonist finds himself attempting to apply hardboiled rationalism to cosmic horrors from beyond the stars.

Chicago is an improvement over Hoboken, which should paint a sufficiently damning picture of both cities.

3. To Serve Satan: Miss deManners' Guide to the Heavenly Host – a Good Omens short about Crowley's methods that came to me fully-formed in a dream, so I'm not sure I should be counting it, but it did probably come from my brain technically so what the hell.

"Would either of you like something off the dessert trolley, sirs?"

For once, it was Crowley who looked up with such sudden diamond-bright joy that it cut.

4. But Be the Serpent Under ’t – an AU of my own pirate noncon epic in which Captain Crowley possesses one of his captors.

When Crowley finally died, it came almost as an anticlimax.

5. The Seas Incarnadine – the aforementioned epic pirate noncon fic, which I stg I am going to finish one of these days. (This sentiment also applies to every other unfinished fic on this list.)

This whole piracy lark had, in retrospect, gone a bit further than intended.

6. Conversant With Terrible Objects – DC mirrorverse character study of Owlman in the form of filthy, filthy phone sex with Superwoman.

The Crime Syndicate believed that Owlman loved Gotham City, when they credited him with the ability to love at all.

7. Black-Clad Bats and Making Money – the one where John Mulaney becomes the Riddler™

You may recognise me as the man who programmed — because that’s what being a game programmer gets you, instant celebrity, like Shigeru Miyamoto and the guy who invented Tetris — you may recognise me as Edward Nigma, the man who programmed Labyrinth of the Minotaur, a bestselling game whose apparent claim to fame is that it is unwinnable.

8. Crowskin – the one where Owlman catches an Australian magpie like a fuckin' baseball.

“What,” uttered Johnny Quick, “the fuck.”

9. Those Who Fight Monsters – a casefic wherein the mirror-universe Riddler deals with the moral dilemma of rescuing Owlman's favorite child assassin.

You would think, thought Edward Nigma, crouching behind the wall of shipping containers he’d scaled partway up for a better vantage point, that criminals would find somewhere else to conduct their business.

10. King's Gambit – DC mirrorverse fic where Lex Luthor and Sinestro discuss rationalism and then kiss (and then try to reverse-engineer God so they can use him as a nuke)

“Good news,” said Sinestro as he pulled away. “You’ll probably keep the eye.”

So the first thing I notice is that I like to open with an immediate, snappy Establishing Character Moment, usually in a close POV. That's probably related to the fact that my usual catalyst for writing down a scene I've been building up in my head is finding an opening hook that I like too much not to use, and which leads naturally into my mind expanding on it for another few paragraphs whether I want it to or not; also to the fact that most of my fic is character-centric, and almost always written in a POV limited to the inside of the viewpoint character's head even when it's in third person.

Something I wasn't expecting from this selection of opening lines – and possibly this is a pattern that would be broken if I included some of my many, many unpublished WIPs – is how many of these take a tongue-in-cheek jab at a significant aspect of the story itself. I don't think it's a matter of being convinced of my own metafictional cleverness, nor of being unconfident in my premise and seeking to lampshade it before the reader gets a chance to notice the cracks themselves...more that my favorite characters tend to be those that overthink everything, in part because I find it a relatable trait. Hmm.

Let's pull in a few of my closest-to-publishable WIP openings, for the hell of it:

My mother, may G-d bless her because he certainly hasn't given her much to work with so far, named me Sidney Solomon Jacobi.

--

"Y'know Sandra Nylund?" I ask, winding my way through the bullpen to my desk, where I navigate the organised chaos of notes and reports until I find the file I'm looking for.

--

The new navigator arrived on the HMS Essex's eighth day in port.

--

The thing about alcoholism was that it was perfectly socially acceptable to drink yourself to death.

--

The second time someone called him, she had Owlman tied to the bed.

Okay, yeah, I'm figuring that pattern's probably just a weird coincidence. Interesting that it worked out that way, though.

Tagging off the top of my head: @punishandenslavesuckers @anneapocalypse @weird-mcgee – and anyone else who sees this, consider yourself tagged as well!

[chaithetics]

OMG MEGAMIND, BUCKLE UP, PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON! I'M SORRY BUT THIS IS GOING TO BE A LOOOONNNNGGGG ONE!!!!

I go through episodes of really struggling to read fics and to commit to series and my brain fog is worse at the moment so that's made my reading very sporadic. But I genuinely mean this, I can't remember the last time that I started reading a fic and I was immediately, genuinely, and completely fully hooked in!

Reading this felt like when reading awesome books is so much easier when you're younger and you find a great one and all of a sudden you've read 200 pages on a Saturday afternoon lol. I absolutely devoured this prologue chapter. I enjoyed your writing in my first fic of yours but this is just mind-blowingly well-written.

The world building is next level and the atmosphere is soooo good right from the start. Can you please write a vampire novel?! Pretty please?!

Slick Charles was a fast talking, smooth operator that could sell water to a fish.

I really loved this sentence for some reason? The sell water to a fish just felt so poetically genius. And the first couple of paragraphs talking about scents just really built the vibes and also the cynicism you'd expect with an old vampire.

You turned your head and rolled your eyes. Crying over a man? You could fuckin’ never. “Because men are pigs,” you said. What else was new? The sky was blue, fire was hot, and men weren’t shit.

The most iconic paragraph to ever be dropped in a fic? Yes! I love how the reader isn't a Mary Sue, you write her with boundaries, real thoughts and I just love her thoughts on men and dating, it's so relatable lol. Haven't we all had a friend like London and tried so hard to help?

The hand kisses? You're so big brained for that!

Okay, this part is really funny to me. When we get to Tyrone doing his 'research' on reader cough cough stalking cough cough I literally thought to myself 'wow this is like the scenes in Twilight when Edward stalks and breaks into her room if it was better written' AND THEN YOU BASICALLY AND RIGHTLY SO CALL OUT TWILIGHT FOR THE CREEPY HIGH SCHOOL STUFF OMG THAT LITERALLY MADE ME LAUGH!!!

You did such an amazing job of sprinkling subtle yearning between both of them and showing that in their interactions and the way you wrote it was just so poetic but also you're really good at writing concise sentences? How do you do that? Teach me, everything I write is run on sentences lol (as you can tell from this reblog).

Also the way reader is immediately like "Yes bite me now. DO IT! TAKE ME TO YOUR VAMPIRIC ORGY NOW!" So real and funny.

I really loved this and I'm genuinely really excited to read more chapters. I think this is just incredibly written and I'm LIVING for it! Such great writing, world building, dialogue and vibes! You're seriously so talented and I mean this with all my heart, at this rate I think you're going to become one of my favourite fic writers. 💞💞💞

Thank you so much for writing this and I'm so sorry how long this is! But this is genuinely such a beautiful masterpiece 💞

Can you do more smit with vampire Tyrone. Like how did they meet, how did the reader find out Tyrone was a vampire? How did they fall in love?

A Seduction at Midnight Prequel

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. No smut. Cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. And when he tells you he's a vampire, did you really believe him?

Word Count: 4,143k

This has now been turned into a series! Read here: Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Since I don't know how to lay my ass down, enjoy a little vamp Tyrone prequel! How did they meet? The previous fic, they weren't actually in love. Reader is just down bad. I mean, wouldn't you be? Thank you so much for the ask, this was fun! No smut, because the party was the first time they had sex, sorry! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. He knew better than to go out among the mortals. The stench of them was unbearable. Every year, humans found more and more ways to debase themselves. They don’t wash, they don’t eat properly, and they drown themselves in buckets of artificial smells. It buried the scent of their blood and he hated it all.

However, his business partner encouraged him to come to the club tonight. Slick Charles was a fast talking, smooth operator that could sell water to a fish. He was ruthless in matters of business. Fed up with hearing his begging, Tyrone decided to come out for one night only.

He much preferred the solitude of his property. Even the parties were starting to dull him. Seen one orgy, you’d seen them all. 

Tyrone reclined on the couch in the VIP section, a booth reserved only for him. It faced the dancefloor below, the bar area, the private tables, and the front door. He watched over everything. Watched how the mortals filled their short lives with bigger and louder and messier.

“We doin’ real well, ‘round here Tyrone. Real well. If we weren’t so exclusive, we could snatch up licensing rights quicker than a ho on the wrong corner,” Slick Charles said. Tyrone half listened.

He sat with legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees. The sunglasses he wore did little to dim his vision but it kept the curious ones from making comments about his eyes. 

And then he saw you. You were down by the bar, leaning over it in a sinful red dress that left little to the imagination and yet, still covered much of your body. Only the middle was cut out, thin straps crossing over your tummy. You kicked up one leg, showing red bottom “fuck me” heels. Your body dimensions were out of this world. 

Tyrone kept watch while you flirted with the bartender to score free drinks. Slick Charles was still droning on, but Tyrone made a mental note to address the bartender issue. You carried the trio of drinks to a private table with two other women dressed similar to you. Their dresses were much shorter, scantily clad, with pieces of material over their bodies. Barely enough to call it a dress. 

Tyrone took a deep breath, sifting through scents until he was sure he smelled you. Something natural and earthy, like fresh rain. The more he took in your scent, the more his mouth salivated. 

Your scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Your blood sang to him. Called to him. Tyrone lowered his glasses, looking at you over the top of them. You were intoxicating. How were you still unmarked? How had no one claimed you yet? 

“See, what I was thinking was at least one other club. Like on the east coast maybe. I did such a good job here, I know I can bring that Slick Charles flavor over there, know what I mean?” 

“Slick,” Tyrone said.

“Yeah?” 

“We’re not franchising. Who is that?” Tyrone kept his eyes on you, too afraid that if he looked away, you’d disappear and take that tempting aroma with you. You were a temptress. Sent here to provoke him.

“Duncan, party of three,” Slick responded. “I didn’t get all of their names.”

A kernel of anger coursed through him. How dare you smell so good? He licked his lips. He had to have a taste of your blood. Hunger pains made him place one hand over his stomach. He hadn’t reacted this strongly in centuries. He could hardly recollect what happened then. 

Tyrone replaced his shades and watched as you mingled with your friends, drinking and clinking your glasses. He longed to hear what you sounded like, what you tasted like.

You

You were so fuckin’ sick of your bitchy friend. You smiled and clinked glasses with them and encouraged London to take another shot. You looked to your other friend, Amanda, and you shared a look. 

London was back on her “I hate Carlos” bender, which meant going out nearly every night in too tight dresses and heels, cruising for men she wasn’t going to take home. As soon as her Instagram blew up with pictures of her having fun, dressed up sexy, and hanging onto random men, Carlos would call. 

He’d beg and cry and sniffle until she took him back and it was another few months before they were breaking up again. You and Amanda had long ago stopped trying to get in the middle of that bullshit. You were sick of the cycle. 

You were not looking for a man and you hated how pushy these dudes were. They sent over drinks, tried to sidle up to the table, grabbed your waist to try and pull you onto the dancefloor. 

You wanted to stick your stiletto in their eyes. You wanted to scratch or maim them. Teach them a lesson about putting hands on women they don’t know. Who fuckin’ raised these animals? 

Maybe you were just too old for the club scene. You were approaching your 30s and you were fucking over it. All of these men were raised in the barn. Worse, they were raised under the barn. They stunk, their breaths were horrible, and didn’t have two nickels to rub together but wanted to buy you a drink. Please.

So, no, you didn’t want the hustle and bustle of meeting someone, finding out they weren’t shit, and getting back into the rat race. 

You rolled your eyes as London took another fuckin’ selfie with her drink. You had been here an hour and you wanted to dip. You longed for a bath, some smell good, and the next trashy program you could binge watch. You locked eyes with Amanda again. She rolled her neck and gave you a pointed look.

Yes, you were seeing this mess. And yes you were over it. Amanda was the one who came up with the idea of the table. She thought that by supplying London with alcohol and posting all night, you could avoid the drunken desperation of finding any guy that would take a picture with her. You did not have the strength to fight off another fuck boy. 

You watched over your friend like a boring mom-friend, wasting your good dress, until she finally got a like from Carlos. “See! Knew that fucker was watching my stories!” 

“Why don’t we call it a night? This place is dead,” you said. The place actually looked fun. It had good, grown and sexy vibes. There was ambient lighting all around, shadless bulbs hanging down from the ceiling. The music was grown too. Music you could either dance or fuck to.

The floor itself was spacious with enough room for people to actually breathe. The club limited how many people came in at once. It was a huge place, two levels. The top floor was for the real VIPs. Celebrities, CEOs, billionaires, royalty, or people with that much money to throw around.

Maybe you’d have to come back here with Amanda, without London. “Yeah, it’s no fun when there’s no guy to make him jealous. All these mu’fuckas ugly anyway.”

Sweet-fucking-music to your ears. You gathered your things and slipped out of the booth. You linked arms with Amanda as you waited for London to scoot her tiny ass out of the booth.

“Think they’ll notice if I wear this back here?” You asked.

“Girl no, didn’t nobody fuckin’ see it,” Amanda said.

You laughed with her. “You right, you right.” 

Amanda placed her hands on London’s shoulders to steady their drunk friend. Maybe their plan worked a little too well. “Why he gotta act like that?” 

You turned your head and rolled your eyes. Crying over a man? You could fuckin’ never. “Because men are pigs,” you said. What else was new? The sky was blue, fire was hot, and men weren’t shit.

You steered London out of the club. Sharp wind smacked you in the face as you left the warm interior. There was a line outside of hopeful people ready to get inside. 

Outside, you pulled your phone out of your clutch so that you could call up a ride for all three of you. “She can crash at my place tonight,” Amanda said. London went to sit on the curb, holding her head in hand as she scrolled through her pictures. 

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Amanda sighed and looked at London. “Might as well. I think you had her last time,” she said.

You agreed and moved to the side, out from under the streetlight to better see your phone. You typed as you moved. Something heavy slammed into your shoulder and you went careening to the side about to trip over your heels.

Strong hands encircled you and you steadied yourself. 

“Yo, what the fuck?!” You shrieked.

“Damn, bitch you don’t see me walking?” Some pimp-lookin’ wannabe looked you up and down. He wore a leather jacket over a black turtleneck and heeled boots. He looked like a damn clown. 

“The fuck did you just call me?” 

“Apologize to the lady!” A deep, smooth voice moved over you like chocolate. You looked into the face of the one who held you.

Damn. He was gorgeous. Rich, ebony skin. Faint facial hair. Neat cornrows. The sunglasses hid his eyes from you. But those lips. You stared at his lips as they moved. 

“...alright?” 

“Huh?” You asked. 

“Are you alright, miss?” He asked.

You told him your name. He let you go now that you weren’t in danger of falling on your ass. He held out his hand. You took it. His hand was so warm, near scorching. He brought your hand to his lips.

“I’m Tyrone,” he said.

You smiled at him. It had to be illegal to look that damn good. He wore an all black suit, nothing fancy, no jacket. There was a silver chain running from his vest to his pants pocket.

You giggled as his soft lips brushed your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Maybe…you needed to rethink your whole stance on men. He smiled without showing his teeth, still holding your hand. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? That was pretty rude of that man,” Tyrone said.

You shrugged. “Par for the course. Most men are rude,” you said.

“Well, then, I hope to be the exception.” 

***

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. But he could not get you out of his mind. The night he met you was like a shock to his system. Rebooting the long frozen heart in his chest. You really had no clue how delectable you smelled. He wondered once again how you flitted through life with no one claiming you.

True, vampires were decreed to keep their activities hidden. Only allowed to keep three donors in rotation and even then, not keeping them for long. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to drink you like ambrosia through a straw.

Unbeknownst to you, Tyrone spent his nights learning your routine. A few keystrokes on the computer and he learned where you worked. Keystrokes later, he found your address. Every night since that meeting, he perched in the shadows of your place, looking for any glimpses of you. 

He knew when you came home that you locked your car and swiftly headed inside. Not bothering to search your surroundings. Careless. You did at least lock your doors. Your neighborhood was…cute. Seemed beneath someone as gorgeous and smart as you were. 

You were undervalued at the company you worked for. Yet, you seemed content with that. Why? 

Each new thing he uncovered about you only served to pique his interest more. He had pieces of you but the whole picture wasn’t clear. And it wasn’t enough. 

Tyrone watched you for weeks. You were none the wiser. Each night, he thought he’d finally give in and devour you. Your scent was its own temptation. Luring him half across the city. Begging for him to take you and claim you as his. 

But then you’d do something cute like tilt your head. Or wear another sexy dress that looked painted on your ass. His dick stirred on more than one occasion as he watched you. He yearned to bury himself in you. Wondered if your pussy tasted as good as you smelled. 

He didn’t know what the hell you were doing with your two friends. They seemed beneath you as well. He caught the way you’d look at them sometimes. Like you wanted to set fire to their hair with just your eyes. Why remain friends with them? 

In his nightly watches, he never caught a man sniffing around. None? How were you not beating them back with a stick? How did they not harass you day and night, wanting to be in your orbit? 

You ended up coming back to the club and he arranged another accidental bump into you, charming you into giving up your number. He already had it. But you didn’t need to know that. He ended up talking to you every second of the day and night. 

He had to explain that his job gave him an opposite schedule, sleeping all day and up all night. You seemed to buy it. 

He took you out on a few trips. Showing you LA at night. The LA Zoo hosted a special event where they set up lights to look like animals. You glowed in the neon light and Tyrone hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. 

But he held himself back. Only touched your hand or the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. He wanted you to crave his touch. He wanted you to seek out his comfort. So he held off on touching as much as possible.

You were probably used to men pawing at you. He endeavored to be the exception and that was what he was going to do. He took you to restaurants and museums. You marveled at how he was able to get you in after dark. He walked you through the galleries, regaling you with anecdotes about painters and artists. Some he knew in a previous life, but he couldn’t tell you that.

Eventually, you got curious about the shades. Strangely, he didn’t want to lie to you. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Tyrone said. 

“Try me,” you said. 

You had been going out for a few months and talking all the time. He knew the shades would be an issue at one point. Especially since it was clear he wasn’t blind. Tonight, he took you on a private Griffith Observatory trip. On the deck, he stood beside you and looked out over LA. 

“Do you believe in monsters?” 

“Like the boogeyman?” You sang.

“Naw, like vampires and werewolves,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. “Uh, no,” you said. 

“Why not?” He asked.

“Are you going to tell me about your glasses or not?” You asked.

Tyrone smirked. “C’mon, indulge me,” he said.

You shrugged and looked out over the cityscape. Why didn’t you?

You

Why would you have a reason to believe in monsters? Sure, you had the odd fantasy about them. The occasional smutty book about being at the mercy of one. But they were all cheap knock offs and underwhelming.

Pale, frigid beings that masqueraded as high school kids. Yuck. The fuck would a vampire want with jail bait? Even if they looked young, they weren’t young. They ought to know better. 

“I guess Hollywood made them too clean and sanitized. They’re actors with fake teeth. They don’t actually exist. What keeps them alive? Why blood? Where does it go?” You asked. 

“What if I told you they were real?” He asked.

You sucked your teeth. “I knew you were too pretty and perfect. There had to be something wrong with you,” you said.

You giggled, meaning it as a joke. But maybe there was some truth to it. Tyrone always held himself away from you. As if he were afraid that you’d break if he touched you too long. At first it was hot, but dammit. You were a modern woman with needs. Each successful date was like another nail of desire hammered into you. 

You lay awake at night, feverish. No one else had been able to rev you up like that. But any time you tried to get close, Tyrone found some excuse to keep his distance. Even when he dropped you off at home, he’d kiss your hand and ask when he could see you again. 

Tyrone smirked and rubbed his jaw. “What if I were serious? What if I told you that monsters are real and they’re out to steal your blood?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, what does that have to do with your shades?” 

Tyrone lifted his hands to his shades and tugged them off. He kept his red eyes trained on you. Wait..red? 

You backed up a step. He had deep, red rimmed eyes where people would normally have brown or blue. “What the –” 

“Don’t freak out,” he said. 

“Where’d you get contacts like that?” You asked. It looked so real. Like movie-grade real. 

Tyrone chuckled, not showing his teeth. “Naw,” he said. He licked his lips. He stalked closer. He bared his teeth, his canines longer than normal. Pointed and sharp. Sharp enough to pierce skin.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “You can’t really be serious, right?” 

Tyrone shrugged. He put his shades back on his face. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. If you’ll still have me,” he said. He held out his hand and you looked at it.

Was this guy crazy? You weighed who he had been with what you were discovering tonight. Surely, he was just a vamp lover, like a furry. Right? You took his hand. Your curiosity would get you in trouble, but you weren’t done trying to discover what made Tyrone tick. You might regret it.

***

You

Tyrone took your questions with resounding patience. He answered them all. Yes, he drinks blood. Yes, he can run fast. No, he could not shapeshift into a bat. No, he couldn’t turn invisible. Garlic was just another abhorrent smell. Silver didn’t bother him. 

“C’mon, you really believe you’re a vampire?” You asked. 

Tyrone took off his glasses, safe to do so since you were walking along the outside of the Getty museum. The view was breathtaking. Nothing glowed like LA at night. The twinkle of the yellow and white lights never failed to make you feel alive. One among many but never truly alone. 

“Have we ever met in the daytime?” Tyrone asked. 

“Well, no but…c’mon,” you said. You couldn’t believe it. “Fangs” and red contacts did not equal a vampire. You didn’t know why you were reluctant to believe it. He seemed too alive to be dead. He breathed, he sighed, he ate food! 

Tyrone grinned, showing that hint of fang. The back of your thighs tingled. Desire pooling low in your belly. Everything about him turned you on. Still, he denied you. Only touched you when it was necessary.

When you were fed up with a dude, that was it. You were out of there. But Tyrone was intriguing. Interesting. He kept you guessing. Entertained. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do next. And you wanted to find out.

“Want me to show you?” He asked.

“How?” You asked.

One minute, you were standing outside the Getty. The next moment, you were at the bottom of the hill. You shrieked, holding onto Tyrone’s long sleeved shirt for dear life. You stared up into his flaming red eyes. His smile was predatory. 

In the next blink, you were back up the mountain outside the museum. He let you go and you moved away from him, backing into the railing so he couldn’t sneak up behind you. 

“You’re…”

He stood away from you, poised as if he were posing for a magazine. “A vampire. Like I’ve been telling you,” he said. That predatory grin was back. He stalked closer. You held your hand up. 

Your lip quivered. The mad dash up and down the mountain stole your breath and made you shiver. This was insane. Vampires? Like actual vampires? Blood-sucking vampires?

“So what? You were just playing with your food? Am I gonna end up on a T-shirt?” 

Tyrone

Tyrone shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone that far. You stood away from him. The flirty tone you always used with him was gone. Your beautiful eyes were wide, your breathing had increased.

Fuck. If he thought you smelled delicious before, your scent mixed with fear and it drove him wild. He took a step forward before he knew what he was doing. 

“No,” he said. He shook his head. He was under control. He could handle himself. “I’m not going to kill you. Would I have taken you on all of these dates if I was? I haven’t even touched you,” he said.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“I wanted you to know me before you found out. Find the man under the monster,” he said. 

You narrowed your eyes. Okay, he laid it on a little thick. But these dates only proved how obsessed he was with you. If no one else had claimed you, he was going to. He was going to have you.

Shit. Tyrone clenched his fists and stepped back from you. The tradition. How could he forget? He started the damn thing as a protective measure against discovery. He didn’t want to share you with the others. 

He also couldn’t leave you alone. Not until he finally got to taste you. Hold you. Move inside you. Even then, he wasn’t sure that’d be enough. 

“So, what? You were just going to date me until you asked for a drink from my wrist?” You weren’t as tense as before. You relaxed inch by inch. 

Tyrone approached you. He held up his hands as if to calm down a skittish deer. When he was close to you without crowding into you, you held up a hand.

“I just wanted to know you. You’re interesting,” he said.

“I’m interesting to a fuckin’ vampire?” You asked.

Tyrone nodded. He looked over you, over the olive green jumpsuit you wore. Your heels were going to be the true death of him. If he was lucky enough to take you to bed, you were keeping those on.

“The choice is always yours,” he said. Not. If he couldn’t have you one way, he’d sure as fuck find another way. “I can walk away right now. Leave you alone.” 

“No,” you said quickly.

A surge of triumph coursed through Tyrone. He felt like a fisherman with a tricky fish on the line. 

“I-I want to know more.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You bit your lip in that adorable way that made his dick twitch. You nodded and Tyrone answered with his own nod. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

True to his word, he did. He told you all about vampires and how to protect yourself over the next few dates. Though not all the ways. You would never get rid of him. Not if he could help it. He wanted to smell the sweetness coursing through your veins for the end of his days.

You were curious about him drinking your blood, even going as far to offer your wrist once. Tyrone declined and declined, giving you just enough hint to make you stomp your foot and beg for answers. 

He told you about the parties and why they were needed. He told you about the tradition. Each new donor was to be stripped and fucked and drunk from in front of the others. Mutually assured destruction. You could go to the cops, but you’d also have a room full of witnesses of you dallying with the devils. 

He expected you to balk then. To shut him up and resign yourself to keeping your virtue. To demand that he leave you alone and never speak to you again. Who would agree to such a thing? 

You had grinned. Perhaps you had a devil in you already. “Take me to one of the parties then,” you said.

You offered yourself up like a lamb to slaughter. How the hell did he get so damn lucky? 

“There’s no going back if I do,” he said. He ran his fingertips up and down your arm. 

“I want you to show me everything,” you said with a wide grin. 

Tyrone gave you a grin of his own, fangs and all. He pictured your descent into hell and relished the way he would eat you whole.

&&&

This has now been turned into a series! Read here: Midnight Sin Masterlist

Need more Tyrone in your life? The Secret Tyrone Files

[dabbles-in-drabbles]

Forgiveness and Vengeance

Summary:

Andan knew her end would come, she had made peace with that. She knew exactly how she was going to die, and she knew it would not be at the hands of Mindflayers.

She was infected, survived the shipwreck, and defeated the goblins. All this with strangers watching her back, and a vampire watching her neck.

If she was to die, she knew she at least lived her life how she wanted to, even with all of the unexpected twists.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Tav: Andan, Oath of Vengeance Paladin

CW: Talks about death. If your are not okay with speaking about it, skip the first couple of paragraphs.

Chapter 4: Noticed

Andan watched the blood drip down her blade, the dead Duergar lay before them. It was an odd little thing, death. 

For some, death was the end. Nothing came after it, but whatever afterlife they deserved to be in. For others, becoming the undead is always an unpleasant option. She felt nothing but grief though, for the brief undying existence of the deep gnome slaves in front of her. To serve in life, and unable to escape it even in death.

Her thoughts drifted to Astarion- he had such a drive to live that he accepted an undying existence at the unknowing cost of servitude. Even now, she could see it. He has his freedom, he has this life. He was now finally attempting to live it.

“Uhm… not to bother your thoughts, Andan… but we may have a bit of a problem?”

Andan twirled her newest Drow blade, glancing behind her towards Gale with a raised brow.

“We may be fighting the uhm- mushroom man .”

She locked eyes with the angry red Myconid, watching Shadowheart backpedal out of range before he had a chance to strike her. The Paladin took in a deep breath, preparing herself as she rushed forward.

The angry scream that permeated from the creature was enough to make her wince. She did not understand what was going on or why they were attacking instead of returning with them back to the colony. What she did understand though, was that they were attacking her allies while they were already low on spells and potions. When magic was no longer useable, then she must resort to brute strength.

And resort to brute strength she did. Hooking her shield under their arms as the myconid raised them to strike her down, Andan pushed as hard she could off of the landing they stood on. She watched the heavyset fungi tip, arms flailing before finally falling into the water below.

“... well, fuck , that was anticlimactic.”

Andan snorted, glancing back at Karlach, “Do you think we have the resources to fight anymore?”

“... No, but it would’ve been a good fuckin fight.”

“One that could’ve killed one or more of us, my friend,” the half-elf gave the muscular tiefling a smile, reaching her hand up to give her a simple pat on her shoulder.

-

Andan was in her tent reading through a soft leather-bound book as she tended to some scraps and cuts she had accumulated from the earlier battle. Her mind was adrift, lost in thoughts of her late mentor. He had left his journal for her, writings full of his visions. She had never opened it before, but she never knew when it was the right time to open it. She didn’t think it would ever be the right time to, but she’s carried it on her person for far too long now.

On the page in front of her were written two different entries that shared the same name: ‘ Astarion: what ye miss the most shall reach out thine cold hands to welcome into a warm embrace ’; ‘ Astarion: thy wrongdoing shall lead into a new life ’.

Andan guessed it was before his vampirism and once again after. Two deaths, two visions. So vague, yet so specific. It had taken her so long to even open the damn book, and this is what it gives her?

Damn you, Hilor .

Andan flipped to the next page, hand stalling as she spotted her own death on the page. 

A knock on her tent post reached her ears.

She glanced back, shutting the book, “Who is it?”

“Astarion- may I come in?”

Andan cocked her head to the side, last she saw of him he was speaking to a mind flayer in the colony. The one who was friends with the Hobgoblin, she thinks?

“Of course, just give me a few seconds.”

He did not enter until Andan moved to open the tent flap for him to come in. He almost immediately settled on where he had been earlier in the morning, back up against the centermost tent pole with his arms crossed.

She settled across from him, picking up the journal once more. She opened it to where she left off, going through Hilor’s visions once more.

“... what are those?”

“My mentor’s visions.”

“You have them? You didn’t mention that before.”

Andan shrugged, “I’ve only actually opened it when we got back earlier. I’ve been… uncertain about it. I was worried that I was going to find the death visions of everyone here.”

“And have you?”

She glanced up to meet his gaze, “Just one, so far.”

Astarion raised his brow, tilting his head to the side as he stared at her expectantly.

Andan sighed, “Yours, Astarion. It reads right here as ‘ Astarion: thy wrongdoing shall lead into a new life ’.”

“Ah, so that has already happened- as you can probably tell, darling.”

She rolled her eyes at the smirk he gave her, “Yes, as we can both tell. But, that’s not- the only one.” She watched the smirk fall off of his face, “here- you can read it.”

The moment the soft leather-bound book touched his outstretched hand, he turned it to face himself. Crimson eyes absorbed the information on the page until it stopped. His unusual silence worried her.

“... Astarion?”

“‘ What ye miss the most shall reach out thine cold hands to welcome into a warm embrace’ ? That’s the second one?”

“It appears so.”

Her heart stopped as he went to flip to the next page.

“Astarion, wait-”

His eyes glanced up to meet her own.

“I’d prefer if you don’t read what’s on that page… please.”

There was a deep sigh before he shut the book ever so gently and handed it back to her.

“Your death, I take it? I only spotted your name briefly before I looked at the other ones.”

“Not even tempted to take a peek?”

He barked out a laugh, “Oh, darling , I am dying to look at it, but you’ve been quite protective over it. It’s not my place to pry into your private matters… unless it becomes a need-to-know basis.”

“... thank you. I worry about what some of the others will do if word gets out about that.”

Astarion stretched lounging back on a few of her pillows, “Ugh, especially Gale .”

Andan hesitantly joined him, laying on her side but keeping herself up with her elbow, “Why him? I expect it more from Wyll and Karlach.”

“... do you not see how that man drools over you? Both him and Lae’zel, darling. You should’ve seen the glares I was getting from her all day after your comment this morning.”

Andan scoffed, “Gale is incredibly nice and gentlemanly, and Lae’zel gets horny if you talk down to someone.”

“Lae’zel may be true on that front, darling- but Gale? He is smitten over you, Dani!” 

The vampire before her was now laughing. He looked carefree, at peace now.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to, dear. Just watch him when we have an actual, real breakfast in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes, finally fully laying down on her side, facing towards him, “ Fine , I’ll keep an open mind to it… starting tomorrow.”

“Denying it for the rest of the night, then?”

“If I can try- if he really is… interested in me, I fear I am not interested in him.”

He turned his head towards her, “And why not, Dani? He practically worships every step you take.”

She shrugged, “He doesn’t spark my interest. A safe option, yes, but not the person I feel like I need.”

“And who do you need?”

Her eyes locked with his, staring at each other.

“I still need to figure that out.”

There was a moment of silence before he cracked a snarky look, “Someone to keep up with your hard-headedness, I hope.”

Andan felt her eyes roll at that, “Well, I would hope for someone who would support my views.”

“On stopping to save every living breathing creature we find on the roadside? Wyll and Karlach are good candidates for that.”

She could feel a laugh beginning to bubble in her chest, “I overheat quite easily, and they both are rather… on the hotter side. Besides, I interact with them as I imagine siblings would.”

“Ah, so you’re looking for a stubborn, non-sibling-like relationship, and someone who is cold. Dani … are you completely sure you don’t want Gale? Or, or Lae’zel! They both match that quite well.” The Vampire almost looked proud of himself.

The laughter burst from her. She rolled onto her back, chest heaving as she attempted to quiet herself. When she looked back over at Astarion, he was staring at her. The single lantern she had, illuminated his face in swathes of orange and yellow.

It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

How could someone be so beautiful?

-

Andan was tired. She was tired and pissed off. She had been stabbed, nearly fell off of a cliff, dealt with an insane Drow spitting at her, and now Gale. Gale was the last person she wanted to deal with at the moment. They were just arriving back at camp, and he just kept talking.

“... all I am saying is that we should all, maybe, be a bit more strict on our watches. We are in the Underdark, and as beautiful as it may be, it is still incredibly dangerous-”

Andan came to a stop, taking a deep breath before whipping around to look at him.

“Gale, I understand and appreciate your worry for everyone’s safety. I truly do, my friend, but you need to shut up before I make you . I am tired, I am in pain, and all I want to do is lay down and go to bed. I do not want to listen to you or anyone else at this moment.”

She did not spare the wizard another moment before stalking off towards her tent. Once she tied the tent flap back behind her, she was expecting to find herself lying face first on her pillow to have a good cry. What Andan was not expecting to find was a startled Vampire half-way through Hilor’s journal.

“I haven’t looked at yours still- I promise.”

Andan felt the tightness in her throat and the stinging in her eyes slowly rise in intensity the more he spoke.

“Are-... are you alright, Dani? You look a bit tense, and I did hear some yelling out there-”

Andan fell to her knees beside him before falling face-first into a few pillows. She nearly smiled at the squawk he let out at that. 

“You’re bleeding.”

“I know,” came her muffled response.

There was a moment of quiet before she felt him shuffling about. A few seconds later, something cold was pressed against her cheek. Cracking open an eye, she spotted the health potion that Astarion set near her.

“Drink up, Dani. I assume you’re all out of magic, otherwise, you’d have healed yourself at this point.”

Andan watched as he settled back down next to her, hesitantly reopening Hilor’s journal to where he had left off.

“... You were right.”

“Wh- of course I am. But, to be sure, what am I right about to be exact?”

Andan rolled over, taking sips of the health potion before she spoke, “Him being interested. I never noticed he watched me so much.”

Astarion chortled, throwing his head back, “And you didn’t believe me!”

She gave him a smile, sitting up more to read with him, “It’s a little weird, to be frank.” 

“It is, isn’t it?”

That was the last thing they spoke for the rest of the night, but they spoke in other ways. When he was reading too fast his hand going to flip the page, but a single touch to his wrist would stop him until she was done. It was peaceful, it was nice.

Andan felt content, and she could make a good guess that Astarion did, too.

Previous | Next

[thatpunkmaximoff]

[Book One of Three]

Story: 3 out of 5 Smut: 1 out of 5

If you’re one who can look past some very obvious (but not many!) mistakes, then this book was actually a pretty decent read.

There was a bit going on, but once you grasp how the world works then you’ll be hooked.

The highs and lows, twists and turns, left you anxiously wondering would happen next or what the hell one character was thinking to do what they did. Looking at you, Rio 😡

Now read my spoilery thoughts…

* Very much little mermaid vibes… just more darker.

* Lynne vowed she wouldn’t lose a bone and what did she do? She lost a bone. And Rio picked it up 😬

* Ahhh. A crime boss. I like Rio, but I’m not sure I like this writing style 🤔 Maybe I’ve read too much mafia romance and fantasy just isn’t my fav anymore…

* The Blood Queen is a bitch. And why doesn’t she want Lynne to know who her fuck buddy was..?

* Being sent to the Top World without a voice.. ? She’s definitely Ariel. And Rio is a gang leader instead of a charming prince.

* Lol. She chose a “dress” from her collection and was wondering why she was being gawked at while Too World. It was a fuckin’ negligee! That’s why everyone thought she was a sex worker 🤦🏻‍♀️

* So who the fuck is Baron? If it’s Rio, she’s fucked. He doesn’t let chicks get in his way and Fox apparently has dibs. If her dislike for Lynne already is anything to go by, she’s gonna be super pissed/jealous when Lynne and Rio start spending time together.

* ….and Rio’s fucked. Love at first sight? Already possessive? Yes, please.

* Dude, Rio’s kind of a dick. He unfortunately saw Lynne kill one of his men, accidentally, and wants to weaponize her now 🤦🏻‍♀️

* The tension! Oh man, he was showing her how to seduce a man… and yeahhhh… they’re both fucked 😂

* I love how protective he is already. He took her out to see if she could do parkour and she’s impressing him. I love it.

* “All right, I like that you can fight back. But I will always take the blows aimed at you, understand?” — and this is where I fall in love with Rio.

* Lol she whacked him with her shoe hard enough to draw blood 😂

* The betrayal! Rio’s best friend is a dick.

* Or not… 👀 Wtf is going on lol.

* How did C-Wax get in Lynne’s clutch? Is Fox really fucking with her or someone else…?

* The “sexting” is kind of awkward, but bearable.

* Then again, Lynne’s never done that before so, of course, her flirting is awkward.

* I think the author should have edited this again before sending it off. Twice I’ve seen two different sentences repeated a couple paragraphs later. It’s kind of cringe.

* “I may seem calm,” he said, “but I’ve already fucked you a hundred times in my mind.” — goddamn 🥵

* Wow. Lynne totally went Selene on Fish’s dead ass 😂 That leap + decapitation combo was totally inspired by Underworld. Calling it rn.

* Fuck. “Any” knows about the Underworld. He just outed Lynne to Rio. Fucking asshole.

* So “Any” has a deal with the Blood Queen too 🤦🏻‍♀️ He has a time limit to kill his sister’s murderer… and twice already Lynne’s caught him pointing a gun at Rio. Does he think Rio is responsible? Fuck that dude.

* Ugh. I hate Fox and her smug little attitude.

* Wait.. is Lynne “Aria” and she just not know it? Rio’s mentioned how she and “Any” look alike, and notices some familiar things about her that he shouldn’t because he’s never met Lynne before. What if she’s “Any’s” twin?!

* What the fuck, Rio. You betrayed Lynne?!

* Oh no. Lynne touched Rio with her bare hand.

* Who the fuck knocked her out?!

* Oh fuck. Rio can see Bory and hear Lynne now!

* I FUCKING CALLED IT! I knew Lynne was Aria, “Any’s” twin 😭

* Also, how dare the author end it like that.

[wormtonic]

Just read a fic called Aurum by @trenchcoat-gecko and I really enjoyed it!! Drew a few of my fav scenes <3 

[birdybirdnerd]

hello i am here i have had A Day but i cant stop thinking about birds and ive been stewing on words for several days now. i love you

the delightful coincidence that she thought to have narrowed her search down to dover, but because beachy head is Right There and she needs to be thorough so she checks there first (and what do you know, Its There), is just SO delightful to me

i love the back and forth of her in the here and now and the her of the past, it creates a lovely reading-feel. cant think of the word but you know what i mean. feels nice to read, like swaying back and forth if that makes sense

god, your descriptions are so beautiful, the way you handle words to make them punch, just, mwah. chefs kiss. 'strange. she would always find herself crying at the idea. she didn't know for a long, long time, that six year olds shouldn't be thinking about that. strange' that shit is HAUNTING in such a good way

'she reeked of tourism and sweat' another fantastic line, so evocative of that specific flavor of physical exertion

hmm, wonder who the missed calls/voicemails are? i have an idea from later on in the story, but the fact that you never specifically say Who it is intrigues and delights me. love some mystery sprinkled in

OOOOH, love the shadows warping Wrongly, foreshadowing that theres Something Else going on

the descriptions of her depression and how it manifests are gut wrenchingly poignant, i can almost feel how heavy it all is. you handle it intimately well and i applaud you; its often hard to find words to describe just what a character/you are feeling and youve done more than well

AND YES. YES. staying alive out of spite, continuing to forge onwards because FUCK the people that try to drag you down, pushing on and fighting for every step. we love to see it- AND we love to see someone take their destiny in their own hands and leave when they know its time

'she had made her own miracle. she'd pulled herself from her own grave. somewhere along the way, she chose to love' when i say my heart swelled and i got chills, man…

the whole 'down. down. down.' paragraph similarly is written so so well, the rhythm of it, the cadence, really drawing you in and keeping you hooked like a heartbeat. chefs kiss

GOD i can FEEL her emotions when she gets there, when she turns out to look at the water, holy shit. and then?? when she thinks its just another dead end?? the sheer panic, the grief, the utter frustration she feels comes out in every word you wrote- and then the frantic way she scrambles for that little crevice, that sliver of a chance that no, she wasn't wrong, its right there-

the description of the cavern/antechamber when she enters is very nice, very evocative. its like im there and boy howdy do i feel unsettled

the image of a floor carpeted in gold feathers, leading up to the figure frozen in gold? thats some good shit right there. primo visuals. hell yes

i loooooove love love LOVE voices that come from nowhere and are in your head and dont have a voice of their own but yet you Understand them, god its such good shit i eat it up every time i see it and you knocked it out of the park with this one dude hell YES

her dedication, her determination, i love it. she tried so so so hard and she made it. im so proud of her. i love her

god, sorry. i love the dissonance between this grand prose, this scene where she is determined and approaching the sun disk and ready to accept her rightful rule, where it demands of her trials to complete to prove her worth, and then- she makes a nerd reference and its just like 'what'. fuckin superb

aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH i love love LOVE the trials, the way you set them up with no clear way to win/choose correctly, and yet she figures it out anyway!!!! i love challenges that have no clear win scenario but which Do Actually that require the challenged to be selfless and clever and to most of all Not Give A Single Shit, its fuckin rad!!!

the whole part in the second trial where she Realizes…. god. more chills. so many chills. all the chills. i love it (sobs)

GOD AND. AND THEN. so many stories that have similar scenarios to the above and end with the challenged choosing themself so often end with the challenged about to die/suffer the consequences they chose, only for things to stop right beforehand, right at the last possible moment, and then theyre told they were right and they win. they dont actually suffer, but up until the last moment, they have to believe with their whole hearts that they will or it lessens the impact

you still made her suffer. she still got attacked, and hurt, and brutalized, and THAT was also part of the trial. she couldnt just accept the consequences in a distant way, a hypothetical way, or even in a way that like. she believed would happen only for it not to Actually happen and spare her the pain. because the level of power she will be getting from this, she NEEDS to understand the consequences, intimately. she needs to suffer, to know truly what she is accepting, what shes doing. and the way it segues so neatly into the final trial, a continuation of that, i just. i dont even have words. youre fuckin rad

so visceral, so detailed, so painful to read because your mastery of description makes us feel like we're there, like we're her, like we're the ones being torn apart to our very atoms. i am envious, its so so SO good.

the sun disk pushing her again and again to let go, to give up, this isnt for you, this is the kind of punishment you will have to suffer day after day if you choose this and youre not ready- except by pushing through and forcing herself to her knees and then her feet and then crawling towards the obelisk even while she is torn apart, she proves that she is ready and dammit she is going to do things her way

if i could just copy and paste the entire section of her remembering her shitty childhood and fighting back and almost giving up and staying alive and choosing life, i would because its all so so good and i love it, but then id just be. pasting a whole section like four hundred words long and this comment is supposed to be MY words dammit anyways i lov eyour words. i love them. i love them

THE NAME REVEAL. i knew going into this her name wasnt mirah but i didnt question it, i figured itd be important later and GOD I WASNT DISAPPOINTED. I LOVE IT and GOD i love the way you wrote the sun disk Knowing and her Realizing and UGH I WANT TO EAT YOUR WRITING MAY GOOD FUCKING GOD ITS SO GOOD

i am jsut. in awe. i dont even know where to start with the section on her actually Becoming. the agony, the descriptions, the way she comes to at the end and shes just so. calm. because its done now. she has Become

and there she goes!

jesus

BIG GOD

Queenie went through a lot of work to get to where she is today. Putting it onto paper was a hard thing to do, for reasons that will become painfully obvious.

Please understand that I’ve had this concept planned out for at least 3 years now—if it reads like an angst ride, it’s because it’s something 2015 May had conceptualized, and I’ve set into stone for years and years. If anything, writing this nailed down some facts about her character and her beliefs that I haven’t gotten to really talk about or study in depth.

10.8k. 30 pages, single spaced. Not an enjoyable ride to read. Heavy, heavy lore—there’s no humor in this one.

Warnings for mention of suicide/suicide idealization, graphic descriptions of violence and body trauma. Also just general angst. Probably some CPTSD.

BIG GOD

The white cliff side stretched along the horizon, a stark contrast to the blue sky that it cut into, to the black sea that crashed against it. From here, she could see the thin red and white lighthouse, could only just make out the coast that crested partway along the bottom.

Beachy Head was the second of the four chalk cliff ranges she’d narrowed the location to. Mirah had seen the Seven Sisters—had scoped the cliffs for over a week, studying every shadow and dip—to no avail. The scripts had been unclear, only truly describing the cliff-side cave entrance as well hidden, barely a blot against the white edges of Albion, soaked in a history of blood.

In all honesty, she predicted the artifact would be at Dover, near the castle. It was a logical conclusion to jump to—the site had been witness to war, over and over again. The right island, the right backstory, it made sense that the scripts would describe Dover.

But Beachy Head was just east of the Sisters, and she wanted to be thorough. She’d come this far.

Keep reading

[calamitouscynic]

What grabbed you in particular in the Palpatine being a creeper scribble? #curious

the fuckin,

everything

(also, this got Extremely Long, so there's a readmore cut now rip @beckyh2112 I'm sorry lol)

no, but in the first part you posted it was that last snapshot bit of fox trapped in Palpatine's mind or whatever it is? like, hold on I'm getting QUOTES for you bc I'm, screaming, eternally

OKAY, so from part one the Specific Part that got me hooked was

The Sith Lord carried a fox in his arms, its fur Guard-red, and a jeweled collar around its neck.

Mace let fury sweep over, through, and past him.

like, MACE. dude. and then the little introspection about him hating but not with his own hatred, and how Plo would. give that a chef's kiss, because its fucking magnificent

and then like in part 2, Fox's little section, where you can start to get a feel for how weird it gets, like, what I assume is being subservient to a sith fucking lord in said sith lord's own mind? fucking amazing.

and then there's this which makes me go white-hot with rage every fucking time, but it's so good

His owner chuckled. “Look at you being so sweet for me, pet.”

like, BEX, bex, you're killing me.

in part 3 (I think?) the entire section where the commanders are space!skyping to figure out what the fuck is going on with Fox is great. and the little bits of clone culture regarding telling how safe or out of a battlezone someone is by how much of their armor is off, and Wolffe needing sinker and boost nearby to make sure they're safe, Cody bringing rex to say hi to bacara, like, fucking phenomenal amounts of cultural insight in one paragraph dude, holy shit

and then the difference between the Corrie's and the rest of the troopers and how the guard treats getting to be a sith lords chew toys in ways that are Really Fucking Upsetting to anyone else hearing about it but that's just situation normal, all fucked up for them

and then, again, because I think the best part of this little series is the small but Deeply Upsetting sections from Fox:

Fox never strayed far from his owner. He wasn’t always within arm’s reach, but the two of them were always in the same room. Often, Fox curled up next to his owner, too tired to do more than chrr when he was petted. If he was awake to notice being touched.

He was just so tired. No matter how much he slept, he felt disconnected and drained when he faded back into consciousness. Always in his owner’s arms. Always hurting and distressed until familiar hands stroked him from head to tail and chucked him under the chin. Then his owner would feed him Dark little creatures, delicious on his tongue and nauseating on his stomach.

I'm just over here like that one conspiracy theorist meme dude from It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, or whatever it is, you know the dude, regarding Fox and Palpatine

because it is genuinely upsetting to me, but in a good way? like "If he was awake to notice being touched." disgusting, horrific, I want to tear Palpatine's hands off with my teeth and eat them out of sheer rage at that. and then the very last line? the thing about the little dark creatures? I am incandescent with rage

and then you go and describe it as "delicious on [Fox's] tongue and nauseating on his stomach" and what a way to get your point across, like yEAH BEX YOU GO BEX, that completely fucking vibes with how I think of the dark side

this is Much Longer than you were probably expecting rip, anyway TLDR fucking everything bex holy shit

no, but for real, its the interspersal (?) of the real world drama of people trying to figure out what's going on with fox, dealing with the end of the war, regular politics, etc, and then getting slapped in the face with fox trapped in a sith lords mind as his pet and how absolutely creepy it feels from the outside

phenomenal fucking job, you're doing amazing, I'm outshining the sun out of sheer rage at Palpatine

[panziku-nox]

@betweenlands @fluffy-papaya

OK. OK. OK. HERE WE GO.

*slaps post tacked together with red string* ohhhhhh boy I hope this is readeable!!!! Best of luck!!!!!!!!

Also, mobile tumblr doesn’t let you add Read Mores :))))))) so you get this monstrosity uncut. I’m sorry I tried

Dog at the door

—

Chapter 1:

“but the comfort of the darkness and the warmth of the blankets feel especially nice today for some reason.” A sign that the temperature has dropped already??? Wack. First paragraph oh boy.

I love the bead curtain detail it’s just so…. *flaps hands* I want to play with it.

The way Doc’s thoughts *instantly* drift and we as readers go “oh Shit” but we don’t get anything till the end of the chapter excellent excellent hook

You literally said morning first lmaoo

Shoulda drunk that a bit faster methinks

Oh yeah the way this fic starts off and continues to describe the Cold is amazing I am writing this outside in the sun and I’m still chilled man it’s just amazing

The spreading of the ice and frost I love the concept of ice following RK wherever he goes it’s such a good image. Then again the imagery in this fix is top notch so

The relief that his friend is alive and responding even if it’s not in the way he should just. His friends alive. But not really. God.

THE FIRST MENTION OF HIS HAND. JUST. GOD. WHICH ONE IS HE TALKING ABOUT? NOT THE ONE DOC THINKS.

It’s not ren!!!! It’s not ohhhh just. The fucking DROP of the other shoe. We all knew it wasn’t the second the frost started creeping. The way Doc refused to admit it even though he did know just. Oh my god. Incredible. Hooked me instantly oh my god oh my goooood

“And the sinking feeling finally hits Doc’s heart, shattering it like ice.” - the consistent imagery *chefs kiss*

—

Chapter 2!

Ok this is a little aside but I love the fact Doc 1. Doesn’t ask his name because he’s still clinging to hope this is his friend and 2. “New Ren” he knows RK is different and in the same Breath ties him straight back to Ren. Just. No time to grieve for a friend almost certainly lost because the person wearing his body is Right There drinking your coffee

Oh course he doesn’t know what coffee is 3rd life wouldn’t have needed caffeine what with all the murder going on

Doc, a cyborg *creeper*, looking at a exhausted man wearing his best friends skin and missing two limbs who’s been at Deaths doorstep for the past few weeks: ah yes. A predator. Terrifying. I am Frightened on a deep and instinctual level

(I do not blame him the slight descriptions you give for RK build up an INCREDIBLE image in my mind y’all are so good at this)

The fact RK’s mere presence is corrupting his to be arm just. Oh my god I cannot describe how much I love that. It is to be his Hand and it must be one fit for the Red King

*awkwardly does the dishes while being stared at by Winter-and-War*

Oh god “why don’t even know eachother” OUCH

Why is he still making it? This isn’t Ren. He doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know him at all. Well might as well finish what’s started

The little please I’m 🥺

“Disgruntled” yeaaaaah that’s it. That’s the word. Yup.

—

Chapter 3!

Oi leave the bead curtain alone lmaooo

RK being amicable my beloved. He’s trying his best. See! He’s made a joke! He’s probably used to his presence creeping people out. Then again, doc is a bit more then creeped out. So.

Is RK capable of being burnt? Well no more burn scars after the explosion then. Just have to deal with shrapnel.

Lmaoooooo imagine asking Doc to put on a shirt. You fool. It’s his brand.

Holy shit how fuckin *smart* is doc??? Making a fully functional hyper advanced prosthetic with scrap metal found in a goddamn hippie van. Incredible. Amazing. RK better be damn grateful lmaooo

RK is so casual?? I love the very subtle clash between Doc’s thoughts and how he has to stamp down the cold every time he remembers RK is there and then there’s RK, chilling in a an in space with people he’s never met, quietly asking for a hairbrush. This dynamic is incredible already and it can only get better.

(I’m trying to write these in perspective of their specific chapters only. I don’t know if that last sentence made sense. I don’t know if any of these sentences made sense)

“Fit for a king.” Ohhhhhhg doc. Ohhhhohohohhhhh Dooooooc

God his distant expression. He misses his Hand. I’m 🥺🥺🥺

“Doc really doesn’t feel like giving New Ren orders. It feels wrong somehow, for some reason he can’t quite put his finger on.” I just. Really like this detail.

He’s keeping his Hand. God the fucking SYMBOLISM YALL KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. YOU KNEW E X A C T L Y WHAT YOU WERE DOING.

—

Chapter 4!!!

“He bites back the We thought you were Ren at the time” god. I. He’s not Ren. I’m so sorry Doc, I’m so so so sorry, god, he’s barely had time to properly process that, god, I’m so sorry Doc

RK stops paying attention and just crawls back into the blanket pile to sleep oh my god what a mood

“Ren but lightly possessed” lmaoooo

God he’s gonna have to tell everyone. Renbob’s fake smile :((((((. Doc is gonna have to let everyone know their friend is…. Gone. :((((((

Sorry for the lack of notes I got caught up in reading the chapter lmao

—

Chapter 5!!!!!!!

The use of the word human here is interesting. Assuming all people are still somewhat accurate to their skins, that means no one here is human-human. So the word human has an altered meaning. Normal, maybe? Or maybe it just means mortal. Non-supernatural at least. Not… whatever RK is. Human, as synonymous with person. Average, regular, normal run of the mill human. RK is not anywhere on that spectrum of regular. RK is *in*human. Ok cool just neat use of language I liked

Can’t wait for the leg measuring section that is going to be *uncomfortable*

“New Ren hasn’t done anything actively harmful besides being a little bit spooky (and completely unintentionally breaking two hearts, but that’s not his fault, and Doc shoves that thought aside).” *sobs*

The change in posture and tone as RK finally introduces himself. I l o v e the way you describe the ice and frost covering everything. Elsa kinnie.

Goddamit Renbob your trying your best and I’m proud

Ohhhhhhhhhh god yup. Yup that’s a predator. The temperature Drops. Who needs limbs when you can freeze your prey to death

Ok one second just gonna:

“So. That’s our ferryman.”

“I don’t think Renbob has a boat license.” Doc says, because it’s the first thing that comes to mind. His wit is rewarded with a deep growl that echoes in the small space. “Ferryman. Driver. Yep. Renbob.”

The Red King’s smile has vanished, replaced by a line of jagged teeth. “He called on you to help. What does that make you?”

“The guy who’s good with prosthetics.” Doc says. The best friend of the person we thought would be sitting where you are , he doesn’t say. “I’m just here to help, man.”

“And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” The Red King laughs bitterly, pushing himself up and off the bed, looking down at Doc. “Is that fate’s sense of irony? Replacing the one thing that can’t be?”

Doc shrinks back instinctively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He can feel ice sinking into his arm, biting cold where metal meets skin. “I actually do not know what you’re talking about.”

“No,” The Red King breathes, and Doc watches as icicles start to form above him. “No, you’ve just been brought in to replace my hand, haven’t you, doctor? Where’s the hand?”

“You’re wearing it,” he manages to hiss out past his own panic. Red eyes bore into his own like cold lasers. There is nowhere to run. He tries to scoot further back anyway. Claws grab his labcoat, and he’s yanked face to face with the king.

“Not this one,” he snarls. “The king’s right-hand man. My Hand.”

...Oh. Oh. If Doc could deflate further, he would. He looks down at the mismatched hands gripping his coat, because he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break. “I don’t know who that is. I’m sorry.”

He can feel the Red King’s eyes looking over his face, at the defeated slump of his shoulders. There’s a frustrated growl, and then he’s dropped back down into his chair as the king stumbles over to the kitchenette. 

Doc can hear something quietly dripping into the sink. Everything is still frozen. He doesn’t dare move, even as the room slowly creeps up to a more natural temperature. 

“If you’re not here to replace my Hand,” the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears. “Then why did you decide to save me?”

We thought we were saving Ren, Doc thinks bitterly, but does not say it -- does not even consider saying that. “Because it was the right thing to do,” he says instead.

Yeah. Just. Actual masterpiece. Just. W o w .

—

Chapter 6!????!!????! Did y’all update while I was writing this??? Well y’all getting my very first reaction enjoy

Oh my god. That’s his crown. He’s never seen it clean. The. The weight of that. I. [head in heads]

“and Doc finds himself able to hold his gaze without the usual chill up his spine.” Oh. Oooooooooh. Just. [gently holds]

Oh to befriend your best friend again, after they have left you to come back someone completely unrecognizeable. Incredible just absolutely incredible

He said Ren’s name. And RK didn’t react. It’s not Ren it’s not Ren it’s not Ren I’m ((((((((@.@))))))))

The laugh. He’s not the predator anymore. He’s. Comfier. He. Just. H e

“He pauses, looking over the sheet, then erases the NR he’d originally put on the page, switching ‘New Ren’ over to RK for ‘Red King’. It feels more permanent, more like it’s for the Red King and less of an old design for Ren.” Oh, oh oh Oh Doc

*Takes sip of coffee* *wakes up on the floor under a blanket*

“I’d offer a heating pack, but they and I don’t get along.” *wheeze* oh hey there is an italic setting in here pog

RK caaaaares awwwwwwww I’m 🥺🥺🥺 yes you bully that doctor into self care for once

Ohhhhhh snap you do Not order the king around doctor or NOT christ god I love RK so much oh my gooood

God the domestic vibes clashing so awfully with the tension (not the funky kind the “oh god he is gonna snap my neck any second now” kind) just. Absolutely incredible. I want this fic tattooed on my forehead I cannot WAIT for more

[2018shawn]

Smut with the “Behave” prompt 🤭

hi angel, based on one of our last conversations, i went with ceo!tom bc why the fuck NOT thank u, GOODBYE i thoroughly enjoyed this eheheheh

just so ya’ll know, there do be dom tendencies and oral and FUCK ME I’M HOT

~~~ saucy saturday/sunday ~~~

tom holland didn’t have his own successful business for nothing. he was a man with power. a man that didn’t have to tell someone twice. that was until he met you. and two years later, you still answered back to him and threw his paperwork across his office when he didn't give you the answer you wanted, and he still took care off you for being a little brat when he’s in working hours, whether someone could walk straight in or not.

when his office door clicked open, he knew it would be you, because no one ever enters his office door without knocking first. “tom, you can’t cancel dinner!” you exclaimed, slamming the door shut behind you so loud, he was sure they’d have heard it in the offices across the road. 

“i didn’t say i’m cancelling, i said i just need to get this finished first.” he leant back in his chair, dropping his ridiculously expensive pen to the desk when he realised he’d be far from being able to concentrate on any work whilst you’re in the room. 

“that sure sounds like cancelling to me.” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your body and cocking your hip to the side, revealing the demanding attitude he knew all too well. he smirked, noting how your cheeks were flushed from driving over to his offices so quick, fingers tapping against your arm in annoyance, probably because his blonde receptionist tried to tell you you couldn’t come in without an appointment, even after two whole years of being with the guy. 

he pushed his legs against the floor, rolling his chair backwards so he left an empty space between him and the desk. “come here.” he held his hand out and although you didn’t want to, because you didn’t feel like giving into his demands, you did. “what is it you want baby?” he purred as you lowered onto his thighs, barely affecting him. 

“you just work so fucking much, and we need time together tommy. i can't remember the last time we went on a date.” you sighed, hands falling to your lap as he pulled you both back closer to the desk where he picked up his pen and began reading back through some paperwork. 

he was the hardest worker you’d ever met, and you wouldn’t be where you was today without that, but sometimes it was so infuriating when you had to give up your nights with him because business called. “keep me company whilst i get this done?” he asked, and although your back was to his chest, he swooped his head to see your reaction. you took your lip between your teeth, nodding hesitantly, but even so, it was a nod of approval, “and you’re going to behave?” you repeated the gesture and he smiled. 

five minutes in and you couldn’t grasp any sense of the words that were written on the papers in front of him, although he seemed more than confident in singing off the contracts. so you began to figit. sharpened the pencils on his desk. straightened his phone. changed the background on his computer. so invested in the choice of image that when his hand smoothed up your thigh, underneath your skirt, you almost missed it. “baby, you’re grinding on me.”

his words sent shivers, but you couldn’t be more still. unaware that your moving around in the last five minutes had caused quite a stir beneath his trousers, it soon became apparent when you grind on him again, positioning your ass deep in his lap until you could feel him straining up onto you. clearing your throat to act like you had some form of composure, you passed him his next paper, the thin document shaking desperately in your grasp. “thank you.” he pressed a kiss so light to the crook of your neck that you almost didn’t feel it. “now, behave.”

trying so hard to ‘behave’ as he called it, was proving to be quite a task. the room was silent, only filled by the sound tom clearing his throat once or twice as he focused on the words in his hand. it didn’t stop his other hand from circling patterns up your thigh, teasing the skin close to your always welcoming center. you wrapped your hands around the edge of his desk, steadying yourself although you knew he would never let you buckle beneath his touch. it was almost as if you needed to support yourself from falling deeper into his body. his fingers felt icy cold against your burning skin when he traced the outline of the lace pattern of your panties and he pictured in his head which particular pair you were wearing. he guessed it to be the navy blue with white lacing, but he was going to find out at some point regardless. your hips bucked, ass wriggling further against him as he made it impossibly hard to remain still under his teasing. “you’re makin’ this really hard, darlin.”

you cocked your head to the side, curls falling over your shoulder and you could gaze down into his eyes with perfect clarity. “the work or something else?”

he cocked one eyebrow, tongue running along the slit of his lips as he thought about your remark. returning his tongue to his mouth, his lips closed into a firm line and his jaw tensed. the hand containing work papers scrunched up and he didn’t seem very concerned about the creased sheets. “really couldn’t just wait could you?” he finished the question by slipping a finger into your panties, running his index down the line of your folds. the wetness made it easy for his finger to slide with ease, so he introduced another, then eventually his thumb which took place on your throbbing clit. “pass me the next one.”

you gulped and nodded, chest contracting deeply with each breath as you reached for more papers. the strain of you leaning forward caused his hand to add pressure on your clit, his other digits dangerously close to your entrance. it felt like a lifetime, waiting for him to read over another paragraph of words as he continued to tease you with his fingers. he passed it back to you with a nod and you added it to the confirmation pile. it took you by surprise when he thanked you, for that one in particular, considering you’d passed him about 20 others. his lips connected with your neck, voice muffled as he whispered about making the rest of the documents wait. your head fell back, resting against his shoulder as he worked on the skin of your neck, fingers still repeating patterns against your throbbing folds. “tommy... ple-”

he either had the worlds quickest reactions, or was planning on doing it anyway. his two fingers slid into you, with the help of your pre juices, and you let slip a moan of relief and pleasure. your back arched away from him, head still resting on his shoulder and he used his other hand to cup your breast that was prominently sticking up into the air. “i’m not sure this is what girls who don’t behave deserve.”

just as quick as they’d glided in, they were back out, completely removed from your panties and underneath your skirt. he brought his fingers up to your mouth, hovering between your slightly ajar lips. lifting your head, you took them in, sucking off the vague taste of yourself from his brief encounter.

“down.” he demanded, grabbing your hips and pushing you away from his body. another pathetic nod later, you were beneath his legs, knealt on the floor, eye level with his bulging core and it was a sight you’d be happy to see forevermore. he swiftly unbuckled his pants, wriggling his garments down to his thighs until his cock sprung free, slapping against the material of his crisp white shirt. you stared up with dreamy eyes as you waited for some form of confirmation. so when he nodded, you leant forward, your fingers of one hand wrapping around the base of him. you tried squeezing your legs together to try relieve your own tension as your hand pulsed up and down his needy cock, thumb rubbing at his tip and spreading his pre cum.

his head, this time, fell back, resting against the plush leather headrest of the chair, hands tightening around the arm rests. he closed his eyes to focus solely on your touch, the feeling of your cheeks sucking around him and tongue gliding on the underside of him. the feeling of his cock tapping the back of your throat everytime you dared to take him that little bit deeper. the feeling of his thighs tensing as you worked on making up for your misbehaviour. “shit- fuckin- yes” he moaned, reopening his eyes and looking back down at you. he never thought he’d seen anything like it, you beneath him, practically curled under his desk as you gave him the most amazing knotting in his stomach. you looked up at the same time, eyes clicking into full connection as he watched you at work. “that’s- ah- yes- right there-” he whimpered as you deepthroated continuously, your breathing practically non existent mixed with each loud gag of his thick cock. you pulled away suddenly with a pop, his length springing around, and your peppered kisses over his tip, licking his throbbing head as your eyes stayed connected.

he used the opportunity to reach down, hands hooking under your arms to pull you back up to his height. a playful squeal escaped your mouth as he slammed you down onto his desk, brushing away the piles of papers you’d previously organised. he hiked your skirt up, bunching the material up at your hips and you thanked him by popping open a few shirt buttons so you could leave trails of kisses, followed by a few sucks of his skin where you hoped to leave light bruising. skillfully sliding your panties down your legs, he tossed them aside, along with his discarded papers. his hands returned to your hips and he tugged you closer to make sure you were as close to the edge of the desk as possible. happy with your positioning, he stepped forward, his soaking cock nudging the lips of your pussy. “maybe i’ll misbehave more often.”

tom taglist: @imaginashawnns​ @fallinallincurls  @mendesficsxbombay @cosmicholland @fallinfortom 💓

[takethisroad]

you should do a fic recs post 👀

AAYYYYEEEE

mkay so obviously this is going to vary wildly for people because these are my fave BS fics and the only factor I have in choosing them is: DOES IT SPARK WILD EMOTIONS AND MAKE ME WANT TO HURL MYSELF OUT A WINDOW (IN A GOOD WAY)?

Will I be giving coherent plot summaries? No. Will I be screaming about the elements I love loud enough to break the sound barrier? YES.

In no particular order:

- Seedlings by twofrontteethstillcrooked

Silverflint modern AU. LISTEN. Not only am I a SLUT for modern aus, but also the TONE? The atmosphere? The growing sense of intimacy? THE FUCKING HUMOUR? Please, the first time I read the sentence about Vane, I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. (Everything this author has written for BS is solid gold. The taco salad fic? Impeccable.)

-don’t come closer, don’t let go of me by youatemytailor

Sometimes I like to drown in my silverflint feelings and this still brings tears to my eyes on the reread, so. Angsty post-finale fic.

- Stimulus by astronautsquid

Flinthamilton post-canon HOLY SHIT SHIT SHIT. Okay, like? Sometimes you are in the mood for two middle-aged men who have Been Through It slowly reconnecting with each other and also with their bodies, and sometimes you find the most breathtaking fic detailing this and sometimes after you read it your chest aches and you need to lie on the floor and cry for a bit. Ya know? (The erectile dysfunction fic you never knew you needed.)

- choose for my triumph an easier end by whimsicalimages

OT4! OT4! Silvermadiflinthamilton + kidfic! I am 10000% here for exasperated uncle James, inquisitive children, and everyone dunking on John Silver. A+ fluff and love.

- The Cup of Their Deserving (the wages of their virtue) by DreamingPagan

OKAY O K A Y O  K AAAA  YYYY . This fic? How do I even begin. It literally redefined how I see canon. The BEST Madi pov I’ve read in all 226 pages on the archive (seriously, just. I can’t get over it, I was hooked on her by the end of the first paragraph, her anger, her compassion, all of it). Seeing James and Thomas reunited and healing together was a gd balm for my soul (do you want to cry about Thomas Hamilton? Please read this fic. Read the part about the clothes.) I was angry over Silver’s actions in the finale, and reading this fic was so fuckin cathartic after that. Whew. I can’t recommend this one highly enough. (ALSO do yourselves a favour and check out Reclamation for ANOTHER EPIC TAKE on things post-canon and ridiculously cute rarepair Vane/Madi which actually works???)

- in, out by woodlands but actually just do yourself a favour and read everything @halewoods​ has written

I don’t even normally bookmark angst but I sure do when it knocks my socks off like this!! Please read to have your heart break even more for James Flint than you previously thought possible, and also for absolutely captivating writing.

- the ENTIRETY of please do not let me go by natlet

Silverflint. This WHOLE SERIES is my FAVOURITE THING IN THE ENTIRE FANDOM. It's like someone reached into my brain, saw all of my buttons and pressed every single one of them at once. Epic tenderness, newfound emotional awakenings, soft SOFT feelings, desperately hot sex, not a single chapter without some kind of hurt/comfort, MULTIPLE counts of James Flint receiving said comfort, heartbreakingly gentle caretaking, and all of this with the best narrative voice for Silver that I've yet seen, and the most fucking insightful look at Silver and Flint's relationship that I have yet come across. CANNOT recommend this highly enough, especially if you, like me, have a serious case of “wanting James Flint to be loved”-itis.

- James Flint Appreciation Week by fandomfan

Silverflint, does what it says on the tin and does it DELICIOUSLY. James Flint gets the love and appreciation he deserves! There’s a line in here that absolutely undid me. The James Dates series is also well worth a read!

There’s more, there’s TONS more, but these are the ones I have bookmarked and readily available. I’m sure none of these are new to anyone, anyway, since they’re all near the top results if you filter by bookmarks, but! Just in case.

[365days365movies]

February 6, 2021: Romeo + Juliet (1996)

From the top!

Two households, both alike in dignity In Fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross’d lover take their life; Whose misadventured, piteous overthrows Do, with their death, bury their parents’ strife The fearful passage of the death-mark’d love, And the continuance of their parents’ rage Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage; The which, if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strike to mend.

I mean, c’mon. It’s Shakespeare, I practically had to.

Which is why it may come as a surprise to hear that I think this play is overrated, far too overexposed, and honestly stars two of the most obnoxiously immature protagonists that Shakespeare ever wrote. Which is not to say that I don’t like it, but it is to say that it isn’t my favorite. Which one is my favorite, you ask? Eh, I vacillate between a few, but I might get into it, we’ll see.

Weirdly fitting, though, since this film is directed by a director who also isn’t my favorite. Can’t say I have a definitive favorite director either, but Baz Luhrmann ain’t it. To be fair, I haven’t seen Moulin Rouge (probably should, huh?), but his turn on The Great Gatsby...wasn’t my favorite, I’ll just leave it at that.

And while we’re into it, lemme just address Romeo and Juliet adaptations on film real quick. To be completely transparent, before today...I’ve only seen one adaptation of the play: Franco Zeffirelli’s excellent 1968 turn on it, and it’s a fantastic adaptation at that. Sone of you, however, may now be realizing that, if I’ve only seen one adaptation of the play...there’s an extremely glaring omission to my film repertoire.

Yeaaaaaaaaah...we’ll get there, I promise.

But, of course, the adaptations only scratch the surface of this plays influence. See, the whole point of the rivalry between the Montagues and the Capulets is that it’s SO OLD, that nobody truly remembers why it started in the first place. Because of that, other romance films have sought to supply a reason for that rivalry.

In other words, the two protagonists destined to fall in love often come from two backgrounds, if not families, that class. And, yes, only ONE FILM that I’ve watched this month doesn’t do that. Dirty Dancing and The Notebook make their “ancient grudge” class-based; low-class vs. upper-class. Even You’ve Got Mail makes it about money, although that one’s a little more of a stretch. In any case, versions of this trope have lasted for centuries, and it’s...maybe poisoned romantic cinema? I mean, there’s a reason they all seem similar. They’re all taking from a classic. And, yeah, more of them than you’d think use this formula. I mean...

Hell, if you think about it, both of them are technically dead by the end.

Anyway, jumping right smack dab into the ‘90s, where teen heartthrob of the decade, Leo DiCaprio himself, is cast to play the titular teen boy, and sort-of popular at the time Claire Danes is cast as the titular teen girl. Put them together, and you have a hatred that will last for centuries. Because yeah, they HATED each other apparently. Let’s watch! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

...Look, here’s a quick recap of a story that EVERYBODY KNOWS.

Two families hate each other, and each has a teenage kid; a boy named Romeo and a girl named Juliet. They see each other at a party, they IMMEDIATELY get those teenage hormones a flowing and fall in love at first sight. They talk a few times, then decide to get married. Romeo’s friends say, “Dude, her family’s all dicks,” and Romeo says “naw, dude, she’s hawt,” They hook up, and they get secret-married. But, since they can’t be together in life, and since Juliet’s supposed to marry a whole other dude, Juliet runs to the priest and says, “hey, fake my death real quick?” He gives her a potion, she pretends to be dead, Romeo finds out (after one of his friends is killed by Juliet’s cousin), and runs to her side. Dude then ACTUALLY kills himself with poison, only for Juliet to wake up, see his dead body, and then kill HERSELF with a KNIFE, and then the families find out, and the Prince comes by and just says, “Goddamn, you guys are dicks. So much so that you killed your kids, congrats.” And that’s the end.

Yeah. Two hours of play and movie (nice touch, by the way, Luhrman) compressed into a paragraph. And yet...I’m still gonna recap this movie. Glutton for punishment, I guess. And with that said...

It all starts with a newscaster, speaking the lines of the Prologue in the guise of a newscast, which is...very neat, actually! That’s followed by...Pete Postlethwaite saying the whole thing over again, backed by a hell of a lot of fast cut editing.

...Oh God, it’s a Luhrmann movie. I forgot. Also, uh...really trying to stretch out that runtime to make that 2-hour mark, huh, Bazzie? I admire that you’re trying to stick to that “two hour-stage” quote from the Prologue, really I do...but you had to repeat the Prologue TWICE to do that?

As the lines flash on screen, we’re also introduced to out major players, whom I’ll just introduce as they come up. After a little montage of the movie to come, and a confirmation that the ancient grudge has broken out into a gang war on the streets of Verona Beach (clever), we jump in the car of a few Montagues: Sampson (Jaime Kennedy), Benvolio (Dash Mihok), and Gregory (Zak Orth).

At a gas station, they meet some Capulets, specifically Abra (Vincent Laresca) and a few others. After some thumb-biting, they all draw their swords. Which are guns that have sword written on them. Well, that’s just silly.

This standoff is interrupted by the arrival of another Capulet: Tybalt (John Leguizamo). This, of course, leads to a swordfight (ugh), during which all players are, just...REAL dramatic with their movements, holy shit. In the process, Sampson’s shot (or...stabbed, I dunno), and the gas station explodes.

It’s war in the streets now, as Tybalt and Benvolio are eventually intercepted by Captain Prince (Vondie Curtis-Hall), the chief of police for Verona Beach. He reads out his rage upon the heads of the families. For the Montagues, these heads are Ted (Brian Dennehy) and Caroline (Christina Pickles); and for the Capulets, they’re Fulgencio (Paul Sorvino) and Gloria (Diane Venora). Is...is the grudge taking place because one of them is named “Ted,” and the other is FUCKING “FULGENCIO”? Because that’s one hell of a dichotomy.

Captain Prince lets them all off with a warning (I mean, no, they should ALL be arrested), and Caroline and Ted question the whereabouts of their melodramatic emo son. That son is, of course, Romeo (Leonardo DiCaprio), who laments poetically about how fucked up his family is.

Hanging out at a decrepit carnival (because of course he is), he’s soon found by Benvolio, and he laments on the lack of love between their two families. They bond over talk of women, and decide to secretly go to a party held by the Capulets that night to check out some girls.

Meanwhile, Fulgencio is speaking about this whole mess to Dave Paris (Paul Rudd). D...Dave? Really? We’re keepin’ fuckin’ Benvolio and Balthasar, but we had to name Paris DAVE? Guys, a little consistency with the name shit, PLEASE! Anyway, Dave (uuuuugh) is the governor’s son, and very wealthy, while also being a suitor for Fulgencio’s daughter.

That daughter is, of course, Juliet (Claire Danes), who’s being attended by her vain mother and kindly Nurse (Miriam Margoyles). As her mother’s preparing for the party, she talks up Paris as a suitor, although Juliet doesn’t seem SUPER into it. And s the Nurse tells her to “seek happy nights to happy days,” we go to Sycamore Grove, and to another party.

And this is where we meet my favorite character (everybody’s favorite character, let’s be honest): Mercutio (Harold Perrineau). Mercutio has been invited to the Capulet’s party, and invites Romeo to come along, in disguise. In the process, he gives one of the play’s most famous monologues: Queen Mab’s Speech. It’s truncated here, ad to be frank, Perrineau’s performance is a bit...over the top. But, it ends up to be fairly effective.

Also, Queen Mab is ecstasy. Yeah, that kinda dulled by enthusiasm for the whole enterprise, I ain’t gonna lie. But Romeo lies with Queen La, and they head to the Capulet’s party. And we’re about to hit PEAK LUHRMANN, people.

Look, I’m lame, I’ve never really done drugs, ecstasy included...but it FEELS like I’ve taken something now. And Romeo’s now trying to sober-up a bit. He dunks his head into a sink in the bathroom, and looks at a tropical aquarium that’s in there. And through that aquarium...

However, Juliet’s quickly spirited away by Nurse, and brought to dance with Dave. Romeo, meanwhile, gives his “Did my heart love till now” speech, and DOESN’T SAY THAT SHE DOTH TEACH THE TORCHES TO BURN BRIGHT??? Seriously, the beginning of that speech is completely deleted. That line, in and of itself, should’ve been left in.

Anyway, Romeo and Juliet speak, and the teenagers kiss...a lot. And yeah, they do kiss in this scene in the ply, but not that much. Immediately afterwards, they discover their family alliances, and Romeo and Mercutio flee the party. Romeo heads back soon after, and, well...you know the line. But soft...

This movie...LOVES water, huh? We see both Romeo and Juliet from underwater at separate points, they see each other for the first time through an aquarium, they’re making out in a pool right now. I mean, I’m sure there’s some symbolism to that, but I’m not sure what it is yet.

Anyway, the two starcross’d lover come just short of crossing stars, and they IMMEDIATELY get engaged to marry.

After a bit of ‘90s music whiplash, we meet Father Laurence (Pete Postlethwaite), a botany-loving priest, and soon-to-be ally to the young couple. Romeo asks Laurence to wed them, despite the fact that Romeo actually was in love with a woman named Rosaline. But, yeah, she’s one of the unseen casualties of this play, only sometimes making it into adaptations. As Romeo speaks to the Priest, I think this is a great time to mention that there is a FUCKTON of Jesus and Christian imagery in this movie. Water and Jesus, goddamn.

The Priest agrees, believing that a marriage between the two could bring peace to Verona Beach at last. We also get a bunch of quick edits showing various parts of the Luhrmann Shakespeare Cinematic Universe, all backed by a choir boy singing “When Doves Cry.” This is an...unusual movie.

It also seems that Tybalt has issued a challenge against Romeo, which Mercutio and Benvolio muse upon. They meet with Romeo on the beach, and as they hang around, their revelry is interrupted by the arrival of the Nurse. She gives him a warning not to fuck with Juliet’s heart, which he says that he won’t, as they’re planning on marrying. She appears to approve, but Mercutio seems not to. Definitely going with a more superficially mercurial take on the character, which fits. But that’ll be more apparent later.

Nurse goes to Juliet, and...OK, is she supposed to be Italian or Hispanic? Because I feel like I’m supposed to be mildly offended, but I don’t even know what she’s going for here. Anyway, the wedding time approaches, and the two get wed in secret. But on the beach, Tybalt has come to go after Romeo. Romeo tries to make amends, even giving up his “sword” to him, much to Mercutio’s anger. Which, uh...he’s not gonna stand for.

And, of course, Mercutio’s fatally stabbed while defending Romeo’s honor. He lays A PLAGUE O’ BOTH THEIR HOUSES, and dies. Romeo’s PISSED, and immediately goes to kill Tybalt. That leads to Romeo’s banishment, although they consummate their marriage before he takes off. Also, Juliet KNOWS that he KILLED HER COUSIN...but it’s Leo, I guess, and...hormones.

Romeo’s banished and goes to Mantua, AKA a trailer park in the middle of the desert. Juliet, meanwhile, is commanded by her father to marry Paris, although she REALLY isn’t into it now! She goes to Laurence and, yeah, threatens to kill him AND herself if he doesn’t have an idea. Hormones, man. They’ll fuck you UP.

Laurence’s solution, of course, is to have Juliet pretend to have killed herself by drinking a potion. No idea why he comes up with this idea, or has the skill to make the potion, but some questions aren’t meant to be asked or answered. He also says to that he’ll send a litter to Romeo, to let him know what the deal is.

Juliet pretends to kill herself, and it interred with her relatives. Meanwhile, Romeo’s cousin Balthasar (Jesse Bradford) comes by the desert, having just gone to Juliet’s funeral, and tells him that Juliet’s dead. And since Romeo never got the goddamn letter, he’s decided, “Well! Guess I’m gonna kill myself.”

He gets some poison, then goes to Juliet’s tomb, which is...decked in neon crosses. I mean, it looks nice, even it’s very, uh...over the top. Goddamn.

And, at this point, you know how this goes. Romeo drinks the poison and dies, Juliet wakes up JUST after, then kills herself as well, and the parents of both parties arrive to see them both dead, along with the Prince, who says “Y’ALL ARE DICKS,” and bounces.

That’s Luhrman’s Romeo + Juliet. And it’s a movie. Yeah, that I’ll give you. What did I think? What rating does it get? Well...I’ll elucidate in the Review.

[thebeauregardbros]

LFRP: Alus Beauregard | Crystal Server

THE BASICS ––– –– –

Occupation: Free Paladin | Field Medic | Café Proprietor

Hobbies: Fashion | Tea Brewing | Pastry Creation | Jewelry Making | Reading Faerie Tales

Race: Miqo’te (Sunseeker Descent)

Sexuality/Romance: Asexual / Panromantic

Relationship Status: Single; never married

Languages: Eorzean | Common. Understands all languages; possesses The Echo.

Alignment: Neutral Good

PERSONAL ––– –– –

Alias: “Alice” (💢)

Residence: The Goblet, Ward 8 : Sultana’s Breath Apartments; Wing 1; Apartment #21

Place of Work: Café Nobilitea: Lavender Beds Ward 20, Lot #8 | Anywhere his Eorzean Grand Company sends him.

Birthplace: ??? (Grew up in Eorzea; particularly in the Thanalan area)

Fears: Slugs | Failing to keep his comrades safe | Failing to save his enemies from themselves

APPEARANCE ––– –– –

Height: “Tall for a miqo’te” (5′8″/173cm)

Build: Barrel-chested, muscular; untoned muscles | Long legs, wide shoulders, slender hips.

Age: Unknown; nameday 20 yrs ago. Approximately 23 summers old.

Gender: Male

Skin tone: Tan; Gold Undertone

Eye color: Heterochromia; Deep Fuschia (Right) | Golden Yellow (Left)

Hair color: Golden Blonde

Body Mods: Pierced ears.

Distinguishing Marks: [SPOILER] Large amounts of large-scale bruises and scars all over his body. They are almost always covered up with his clothing. There are no visible scars on his face, neck, or hands.

Common Accessories: Large amounts of gold jewelry; Excessive rings, bracelets, pocket watch chains, earrings, tiaras, circlets, crowns | Large amounts of fresh and/or fake flowers; On his lapel, coming out of his pockets, warn as a flower crown, tucked in his hair, tucked amongst the buttons on his outfits, etc.

BODY LANGUAGE ––– –– –

Walk: Excellent posture; he carries his upper body with strength, while his legs nearly cross in his stride like an elegant female runway model.

Voice: His voice is often strong, clear, deep, and commanding, with the slightest hinge of huskiness. While off-guard, however, his voice cracks into a higher pitched and goofier voice. His quiet tones are very soft and sweet, like a warm fuzzy blanket wrapping you up in it on a cold winter’s night. (Voiceclaim/reference: Johnny Yong Bosch, particularly his roles as Vash from Trigun and Zero from Marvel vs. Capcom.)

Tics or Mannerisms: His speech consists of a shakepearian inspired word usage with a consistent disuse of contractions, similar to Urianger. | He tends to step-dance or become especially physically clumsy while nervous in social situations. | He will elegantly dodge all physical contact, even minor, unless he is comfortable enough with you to make the first contact.

Smell: Gardenia (Jasmine) / Cuttlebone dust

Posture: Constantly straight and erect; shoulders rolled back, chest out. Never looks truly relaxed, even while sitting. A model of good posture.

Disabilities: [SPOILER] Surface numbness on his scar tissue. Mild numbness in his left-hand fingertips.

RELATIONSHIPS ––– –– –

Romantic Partner: (None.)

Parents: Gwenneg Beauregard (Adoptive) (Deceased)

Siblings: Arc Beauregard (Twin Brother) (Alive)

Children: (None.)

Extended Family: (Unknown.)

Pets: Various unnamed wild songbirds and a fledgling Dodo that followed him home. He keeps feeding them, so they keep coming back, but he does not claim ownership of any of them. | He has also developed a relationship with a wild white horse he’s named Marion who consistently comes to his call. | His military-issued chocobo is named Erminia.

Other: Alus considers everyone he meets to be a friend.

PERSONALITY TRAITS ––– –– –

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Addictive / In Between / Nonaddictive

RP HOOKS ––– –– –

Café Nobilitea: Alus is the proprietor of a western-style teahouse with a distinct theme for elegance, royalty, and other-worldliness - His café is bright, full of flowers, and always playing soft kind-hearted piano music; the type of place a person could become lost in whence they’ve become tired of the grueling and dark outer world; a real heaven and haven. He often spends his free time there and enjoys sitting with his customers to get to know them.

Grand Company Militia: Alus is a very active member with the Eorzean grand companies in fighting against the Garlean empire and any other threats to the peace there might be upon the world. It’s very possible your character might have teamed up with him at some point in active duty.

The Prince on a White Horse: Alus patrols random fields often in order to keep the peace. Your character or someone your character knows might have been saved by the mysterious ‘Prince on a white horse’ while being attacked by bandits or beastmen, who oft leaves without giving his name.

A Fellow Warrior Of Light: Alus has helped out the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on occasion due to his status as a Warrior of Light; one of many.

LOOKING FOR ––– –– –

Long-Term ANYTHING!: Friendships, rivalries, casual familiarities, romances, anything. Alus has lived a long life without any PC RP interactions, and I feel his writing suffers for it. I want someone who will be there for the long run and get to know him. I want stories to develop. I want Alus to grow because of other people.

Open-minded villains!: Alus has the patience of a saint and will befriend the nastiest of criminals no matter what. Alus will stop them from directly committing serious crimes he may be there to witness (murder, kidnapping, robbery, etc.), but will ultimately be very forgiving and calm when dealing with these topics. He wants to genuinely make a connection with people he doesn’t understand and strives his best to soften anybody’s heart, no matter how hard. His ultimate goal is to change their ways for the better through patience and understanding.

Platonic flirts!: Alus has a lot of love to give and happy to give it to nearly everyone and anyone. He throws around the words ‘I love you’ quite easily, and if he is especially crushing on someone, he will hold their hands and hug them openly despite his normal dislike of physical touch. He is most happy when he has a large circle of queerplatonic relationships, but will be absolutely exclusive to their ‘steady’ when he has made that romantic commitment.

Distant family members!: Alus knows very little of the Beauregards; his adoptive father and surnamesake did not speak of them much. Alus is fascinated with Elezen culture and considers himself one of them. He would be incredibly happy to find anyone with the same last name who would welcome him to his adopted ancestor’s information.

ADVENTURE!: Once in awhile, let’s RP somewhere other than a unmoving place. Let’s RP in a dungeon. Let’s RP while doing gold saucer chores. Let’s RP while talking to random minor NPCs. Let’s RP while doing something other than just sitting! It can help a lot with improvisation and keep the creative juices flowing.

ABOUT THE MUN ––– –– –

Who I am: Hey, my name’s Will. I’m a 24 y/o prep cook living in Alaska. My family’s straight-up wiccan, I got 3 black cats, I love super flashy ridiculous fashion, 1980s comedies, and my favorite game’s Bayonetta. I’m a queer Aquarius with mild ADHD. Buddhism and pacifism are super important to me. I love the McElroys?? and uh. I yell in caps a lot. i WILL make you a playlist of music if you ask for recommendations, don’t fuckin tempt me. I’m a casual goofus fuck. here’s my ‘me’ tag on my personal,

Server: Balmung, Crystal Data Center

Time Zone: Alaska (GMT-8)

Availability: 11AM-2AM (subject to change)

Writing Style: Rapidfire! 95WPM. I like to RP just like I type normally - as thoughts pop up, I type ‘em, just like if I was talking. I’m not a big fan of waiting for turns; I have an anxiety disorder and that particularly makes me extremely anxious! However, I am happy to do short paragraph RP with you if we’ve been RPing long enough. Huge paragraph RP is 100% OK on Discord!

Platforms: In-game(preferred) or Discord.

Restrictions ––– –– –

No ERP!

No Permadeath! I really do not want to RP with anyone who intends to eventually kill off their character, either. This is a legitimate trigger for me.

RP Fighting...? I’ve never done this before. I’m not a fan of physical injury so it’s unlikely I would want to, either. But if the situation really calls for it, I’m open to learning. I will not allow you to permanently disfigure or disable my character - temporary injury is alright, but please talk to me about it first.

Mature Themes...? This is okay for me. Swearing, murder, prostitution, drugs.. I’m an adult! I don’t mind these themes being mentioned or being used as a backdrop to a prompt. Alus isn’t a fan of these things though! So just keep that in mind.

Sexual Assault...? For the most part, NO. However, a forceful kiss? An inappropriate touching that stops as soon as my character says no? Maybe. Ask me beforehand and be clear about what you’re thinking, no surprises.

More Info ––– –– –

Click here for Alus’ RP blog and all the memes and asks I’ve written for him!

tags;

@ffxiv-crystal-rp @crystalxivrp @mooglemeet​