#i'd write but what are words

[itshype]

As a fandom Vet please, please back up your fanfiction. I see so many fics posted exclusively to tumblr and it scares me.

I've seen so many tumblr purges, I've seen staff delete blogs irreparably by accident, I've seen cyberbullying involving reporting a blog so many times it's taken down and all the posts are lost.

All these new baby fandom accounts who are writing tens of thousands of words of fic (in a readmore so not even reblogs work to save it if your blog is lost) and not backing it up are causing me anxiety. Please, I'm so worried for you all.

[gossippool]

just reread my first poolverine fic that i wrote before even creating this tumblr or knowing jackshit about logan and let's just say. it is not great. but it did spawn one of the funniest metaphors i've ever written

[narcissarina]

𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

જ⁀➴Previous chapter

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,260

Tw: This chapter is just all smut🧍‍♂️ (hardcore, daddy kink, safe word but never used, call while fucking, crying, dom!leon, crying reader, pulling out method, creampie on the stomach—not inside, cry about it/j. imagine writing 2.2k words with only smut lmfao)

Summary: After the training, Leon made his moves and manhandles you in bed while in a call with your father. Be sure not to make any noises. 🧍‍♂️

𝚅.

You squirm to his touch, his weight on you as you whine for him to get off. “Leon…” his name left from your pretty little lips, “I’m here…” he spoke softly, his breath tickling against your skin. He place soft kisses from your neck, nibbling then biting hard.

You jolt, like the electricity went through your body. Soft choked moans got out, he growls—sucking your skin, his hands travel down to the curve of your waist, holding your hips down and drawing circle. He sharply inhales and switch to the right side of your neck, placing gentle kisses then to your jaw.

Arousal pool in your underwear, you try to squeeze your legs together but it’s his hips that’s been keeping them apart. His cock screaming from the confinement of his pants, his shirt and jeans felt a little too tight as he use one hand to unbutton two more of his polo and remove the belt from his jeans.

You could feel him as hard as a metal, you grind against his hardness to get some friction. “Please…” you choke, “hm, please what?” he teases, leaning back and pulling your legs to him, “come on, your daddy taught you words, no? Use them, baby.” He coos, leaning down again as his hands found its way to the hem of your sweater and lifts it slowly, finding consent if you wanted this. He easily took it off, you’re wearing lace blue bra, it matches the color of his eyes.

He chuckle at the color and grab your right left tits, “cute.” He mutter, you mewl and support yourself up by your elbow but quickly got pushed down by Leon. “Stay down, princess.” He warns.

He massage and circle around to your perked up nipple, “you like this?” he asked, his tone low and seducing as you desperately nod in response, he grins as he remove the strap and toss the fabric of your chests confinement somewhere in the room as he leans and kisses it first then suck on it.

You jolt and arch your back, softly moaning as you lift your hand and caress the back of his hair. He grins against your chest and gently nibble on your sensitive nipple, making you gasp and choke on your moan, “you still haven’t answer my question, sweetheart.” He hums against your chest, he looks up to see your lewd and pleasing expression.

You nodded but too embarrassed to say the exact words, “come on, baby. Use your fucking words.” He said and gave your ass a slap, then squeezing it. You yelp, “y-yes!” you stammer, he hums as he retreat his mouth from your chest—bruise and red.

He made his way, kissing down from your chest, stomach to your abdomen and your clothed cunt. He brought down your pants that’s been restricting your poor numb, he saw glints of your underwear.

You look down to see what is he eyeing and you feel more arouse when he’s admiring your soaked cunt, “Leon… Stop staring.” He chuckle at your remark, he hums and wrap his finger around the waistband and pulled it down, “hope you don’t mind.” You feel a cold air hit your naked cunt, your legs closing as Leon held it and keep them open.

“Don’t close,” he said, burying his face to your cunt without warning, you groan and let out a pornographic moan as he started to lick your sensitive bud and finger your hole. “oh, god, Leon!” you scream, his nose breathing against your clit, shaking his head lightly so he could give it some friction. Letting your arousal pool down as he tongue fuck and finger fuck you, he could feel you pulse around his tongue.

You grind against his face, chasing your high as you feel a warm and hot feeling from your abdomen—his strong hands keeping your legs apart as much as you want to close it as you come undone, he pulls his face and kept his fingers inside you—working his magic.

You spoke nonsense, a mix of curses and please, “you like that, hm? Naughty princess.” He chuckle and plunge his fingers knuckle deep inside, “fuck!” you curse as you grab a hold of his wrist, trying to push it away but you couldn’t. His hold is too strong and you felt too weak and aroused to even fight it.

“You close, sweetheart?” he asked, you nodded, desperately wanting to come to his fingers coated with your white stickiness. “Such a fucking good girl, you wouldn’t want your father to think that you’re such a whore hm? Panting on my fingers, fucking your bodyguard…” he teased, you feel so hot and bothered, tears starts flowing and coming down your cheeks.

Even if it’s just his fingers, it felt too much and how much you desperately want to finish on his fingers—the sound it makes is so loud as you finally felt near, “yes!” you yelp, but felt the sudden emptiness when Leon pulled his fingers out. “Fuck!” you choke and whined.

You sob at the lost of your release as you watch Leon unzip his pants, pulled it down just to his hip and release the built up frustration of his dick, painfully throbbing as if it was showing its gratitude to be freed from it’s tight confinement.

Your guess was fucking right, he is well-endowed. Fuck, you don’t think it’ll fit.

Leon pumps himself, his head back and softly moaning—gripping to his cock tightly and his hand moving with urgency, he place the tip to your slit. Teasing as he move his hips up and down, bumping to your clit—making you shudder and mewl. He fist his cock again, slap his dick and prepare to force it in, but you quickly grab a hold of his wrist. Swallowing your saliva and your breathing became heavy, you could almost hear your heart pounding.

“Scared?” he asked, you nodded, “I don’t think it’ll fi—” you shudder and screamed when Leon got his tip in and plunged deep into your cunt. Tears flow and drag down to your cheeks, your legs trembling and your insides pulsing and gripping to his cock.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He tease, you spout random gibberish words—trying to take his cock in. Your cunt adjusting to his size, like it’s molding to his shape. “Fuck, so tight. Tight as a fucking virgin.” He hiss, “this your first time?” he raised a brow which you obviously nodded quickly in response.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you got the best cock of your life.” He remarks and slowly retreat, leaving his tip only inside. Then plunging it right in, you hiss with pain and pleasure as his tip is fucking kissing your cervix.

“Fuck, Leon!”

“That’s right, baby. Scream my name, you don’t know how long I wanted to do this so I could fuck the bratness out of you from a few days ago.” He grunts, snapping his hips against yours—knowing completely that it’s your first time and he’s being rough, “I forgot,” grin is spreading from his lips, “what’s your safe word, baby? Tell me…” he asked, you just moaned—too full of his cock hammering your insides.

You asked yourself where the fuck did he get a third leg, “r-r-r…!” you stammer your words, his dick obviously hitting you so good, “speak up!” he plunges deep, making you scream. Grabbing both of your legs and placing them of his shoulders—his hands pulling your wrist, he manhandles you like your pussy is some fleshlight.

Your eyes widens, back arch and toe curling—your gummy walls gripping to his length as you made out a word, “red!” you finally said, Leon hums and pulls to thrust back in gently. “Wasn’t so bad, hm?” he coos, he leans with your legs over his shoulder—your position in a mating press which got you choke and moan loudly, making his length reach deep inside you that you never knew.

“T-Too much…” you sob, “I know, but you can take it.” He encourage—his lips kissing your jaw, softly letting a groan slip from his lips as he thrust inside you, you think he’s giving you a breather after getting fucked like there’s no tomorrow. You close your eyes and mewl at each of his thrust.

His hips angle to certain direction to make you have a reaction, you feel that familiar release again. But he’s moving too slow that it pains you.

“L-Leon…”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“M-Move… please.” He grins to your words, “good girl.” He pulls, his hands at the back of your thigh. Your knees reach at each side of your cheeks as Leon starts to snap his hips against you, his balls hitting your anal hole and he’s deep inside. Making you mewl and cry, choking on your moans and sobbing to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Been such a good girl for me…” he praises, “don’t be a brat again, hm?” he leans and kisses your lashes, you nod, “oh, god yes… Oh, daddy.” Your words made Leon stop, you just pant with sweat rolling down your forehead and how you whine at the sudden stop, “daddy?” he repeat.

“I never knew you’re into that, but I’ll play along.” He chuckles and flop down one of your leg while the other is still almost reaching your ear, “scream for daddy, doll.” He said and resume his brutal pace.

“you”—thrust— “hear”—thrust— “ that?”—thrust—

He asked while thrusting hard each and every word, you feel so sore and a white ring starts to draw from Leon’s length. You cry at the overstimulation that you’re starting to feel, “come on, baby. Come on my fucking dick.” He grit between his teeth, he feel your walls clamp into him tight, he let out a shudder and a soft curse, “oh, fuck…”

You came undone, but Leon is nowhere but finish.

Vrooo—

The sound of Leon’s phone vibrating, a call incoming. Leon took his phone and look at the number, you thought he’ll drop the call but he didn’t. He picked it up and put it beside his ear and resume drilling his length inside of you, making you gasp and choke back a moan. Refraining one word to come out from your lips.

The voice from the other side of the line was familiar since Leon put it on speaker, your heart drop when you learn that the voice is from your father.

“Yes, sir.” Leon hisses, groaning. “It’s nothing, I just bruised myself.” He made up an excuse, but he really is just drilling another hole inside your hole. You covered your mouth with both of your hands, muffling moans every hard thrust Leon makes.

“Your daughter?” Leon turn to you, “yeah, she’s with me.” He grins, you shake your head and begged him to not make you say something to your father, “oh, no. She’s sounds asleep, can’t wake her up or else she’ll kick me out.” He joke with your father, his pace slowing down as his free hand capture two of your wrist. Pulling you close and fucking you to oblivion with nothing to cover your mouth with.

You bit your lower lip, threw your head back and hope for the best that you wouldn’t moan a single thing—just tiny little grunts and sobs, Leon could hear it but it wasn’t loud enough to hear.

Leon put himself to mute and lean down to capture your lips, pulling you in a fiercely kiss. Desperation and lust as he devours your lips whole, you could hear your father venting.

“B-But what about…” Leon hushes you before you could continue, “don’t worry, I made sure to put myself in mute.” He assured and got back to making you come your orgasm the second time, you heard what your father is saying.

“She’s my only child, you know? I am so glad that she’s warming up to you, Leon.”

You moaned loudly when Leon flip you over and plunge deep.

“I know I did something that I shouldn’t have done that made her resent me, I know. I’m a bad husband, but I’m trying to be a better father.”

Your eyes rolling up, too much pleasure that Leon is giving you—you sob and whine at him to slow down and be gentle but he didn’t, he was addicted to what sound your cunt is making when getting fucked by his dick.

“I’m trying to be better… for her.”

There was a long pause, Leon listen to his words but very much focus on pushing you to your limit. “fuck, baby. Daddy’s near.” He hiss, he buried himself to the crook of your neck, making small but fast thrust, making your legs give out and numb. Your tears dry and your voice hoarse from all the screaming.

“Thank you for listening to me talk, Leon. Please, look after my little girl.”

The call ended.

Leon pulled out from your puffy red cunt and fist himself and release himself to your stomach, both covered in sweat and panting for air.

Your eyelids were heavy and you become sleepy, your whole body trembling from the pleasure and your hole clenching to over nothing—but you sure did heard what your father just confessed in a call.

“Sleep well, princess. I’ll take care of you.” Leon assured and kissed your temple.

You close your eyes and nod at Leon’s words, but you do know one thing before diving into your slumber.

That your father is a bad husband, but tries to be a good father.

Next Chapter>>>

[roomba-mangga]

thoughts on thistle and yaad's dynamic that i vomited in the tags of another post but will now try to articulate here: they're not actually family, or at least they shouldn't be. not in a conventional sense anyway. framing them as uncle and nephew (even in a non-literal, silly fantasy world way) rides more on technicality than anything concrete.

what i mean by this is yaad calls thistle by name and says he and delgal were raised "like" brothers. he talks about thistle like he's an outsider imposing himself into the melinis' space, and it's clear that thistle was never legitimized as a member of the family. for thistle's part, though we don't know how he would treat yaad pre-demon brainrot, it's safe to assume based on the way he punishes him—turning him into a doll—and how little is shown in the way of any sort of relationship between them that thistle only cares* about yaad as an extension of delgal (otherwise i'd expect something like kabru and milsiril, because it's not like another complicated interspecies family dynamic would be out of place, yet there's next to nothing on them even in bonus content, just their scant interactions in the main story).

in essence, they're strangers to one another. thistle's desperation to preserve the illusion of a family, a model where he doesn't even fit, was the snare they were caught in for the past thousand years of stasis. yaad-as-nephew is a prop to uphold that illusion, and thistle is playing a role he's unfit to play. in the context of post-canon interactions, attempting to reconstruct that facade would only be a reenactment of trauma for them both (in a deeply compelling way i'd love to watch unfold, tbh), as that "uncle and nephew" framing places thistle in an implicit position of power over someone he's already traumatized through misuse of authority in the past, a role which also perpetuates his adultification and yaad's infantilization in turn. it'd mostly be an obstacle to any real connection.

best to burn the melini family bridge, i think, and if there's still anything salvageable left in the rubble, let something different supplant it.

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[cum-a-calla]

you ever buy weed from a hot, deranged, psychopathic cult leader? no? well, sugar, do ya want to?

under the cut: Kappa/“reader”. coercion/dubcon/noncon. drugs. drugged fuck. knifeplay and blood kink. religious/cultlike ideologies. possessive Kappa. a general air of manipulation and abuse. wet, absolutely unhinged, hard fucking.

“Well, well - what brings you here?”

Kappa hangs in the doorway, resting his head on the frame as he peeks out from behind the door. He’s in the same thing he wore the last time you saw him, some flowy, open-necked bohemian top, so threadbare and worn that there are patches you can see through. He smiles his lopsided little smile and opens the door further, eyes dark and bloodshot. Trying to guess what Kappa might be fucked up on at this very moment is just as fruitless as buying a lottery ticket - the chance of getting it right is comically low.

“I need to… you know, pick up. And my usual guy is out of town, so… I know sometimes you have stuff,” she says, glancing around as if they aren’t on his wide, dusty property. Somewhere off in the yard, one of his strange friends plays fetch with a very filthy, very enthusiastic dog, tongue lolling from its grinning muzzle as it chases a frisbee and proceeds to shake it from side to side.

“Gunna have to be more specific than that, my dear. Kappa has it all.”

God, right - she’d forgotten about the third-person bullshit. She smiles flatly at him and mimes smoking a bowl, to which he laughs a little and moves to the side.

“Well, who doesn’t have that, right? Nature’s medicine. Come on in, don’t wanna let all the cool air out.”

She follows him into the dim, ramshackle home. Random furniture and cluttered countertops, sinks full of dishes with a couple flies buzzing lazily around them, hoping for lunch. The house is dark; most of the light comes in through the crooked slats of the blinds, drawn shut but damaged enough that the sunlight filters through in blazing shafts, illuminating all the dust in the air. Two woman doze off on each other, half naked and intertwined on the couch. One opens her eyes, takes in their guest, and allows them to flutter back shut in her lack of any real interest.

“This is Theta, Sigma… I think you remember them? We’ve met a few times. Girls, why don’t you go lie in the back room so that my… new friend, here… can have a seat.”

Theta and Sigma stir, but mumble and whine about Kappa’s request. He raises his eyebrows and purses his lips for a moment, hands on his hips.

“… are you going to make Kappa ask again?”

He looks like a parent preparing to lay down a punishment. His voice is even and low, something about its quality shifting the air in the room. Their eyes pop open and it’s like neither of them had been sleeping at all. Alert and obedient, they rise up while holding each others’ hands and scurry past him, squeaking apologies. Kappa watches until they’re out of sight, the sound of a door shutting breaking him of his sternness. He smiles again and everything feels even more disturbing, somehow. The switch. He holds a hand out to her and takes it gingerly into his own. He brushes his lips against her knuckles in a chaste kiss, watching her with his deep-set eyes.

“Sorry about that. They got a little fucked up and forgot their manners, it seems.”

“It’s… fine, it’s fine. No big deal.”

“Go on. Sit with me.”

Lowering to the couch feels like a death sentence in some unexplainable way. It’s not unlike any other experience buying weed from the various small-time dealers in the area - dirty house, wasted buddies sleeping off a hangover, weird dudes that just want to have a chat while they sell their goods. Despite this, there’s a vibe here she can’t place. Something that makes the tiny hairs on her arms stand up, something off. She’s already anxious to leave, watching Kappa lift the top to the coffee table to reveal a hidden compartment inside. It reminds her of a much nicer version her grandparents have. She guesses confidently that their isn’t stuffed with different sized bags of weed and little jars full of dried mushrooms, of various pressed pills and powders.

Beside these goodies is a handgun and a hunting knife.

“So - what will do ya? A dub, a quarter? An ounce? We’ve got some serious couch-lock shit all the way from the U-Dub, uh… we’ve got a great Californian purp. Sort of a mid strain from Maine; yeah, real gentle stuff, in case you have a hard time handling yourself.” He smiles and leans back, reaching an arm behind her shoulders as he settles in. He offers her a little wink. “I’ll take care’a ya.”

“I mean… I’m don’t need a ton, it’s just for me. Maybe the Cali stuff, just, like… an eighth is fine.”

“You wanna try before you buy?”

Textbook pickup manners dictate the sharing of the weed, so share she does. His ensuing grin shows his teeth, eagerly packing a scratched-up metal pipe with a frosty, dark bowl. He’s not kidding about quality; his home may not be kept neat, but she has zero doubts about his ability to afford the property. He must make bank. She wonders idly about his roommates and friends as she allows him to push the pipe to her lips, lighting the bowl for her. A true gentleman.

“They say weed’s a doorway; that may be true, but not in the way I see it. Smoking weed didn’t lead me to, say, coke - I tried coke before ever smoking, actually. Smoking, and surrendering to something that’s been around as long as man has walked the earth, I mean… it’s meant for us to consume. You know?”

She nods as he takes his pause, hitting the pipe himself until his chest is puffed out and he’s snorting back the urge to cough.

“Yeah, man. I agree.” Placid, easy. “Weed’s rad.”

Kappa exhales through his nostrils, thick streams of it curling to frame his face, tendrils of it sneaking from between his lips as he smiles in agreement.

“It is rad,” he amends with amusement.

It’s hard to look away from his mouth. His mannerisms and friends are off-putting, and she hasn’t made any significant effort to be around any of them in any given social situation outside of attending the same parties, once or twice on this very property. A polite greeting, a loose comment here or there. All of this to say that she had never noticed just how shapely his lips are, how the way he smirks ignites a curious little spark in her guts.

“You want more?”

“Yes,” she says quickly, and she has no choice but to suffer that knowing smirk as he once again lights her up. It’s already taking effect and doing its intended job - she feels that she could relax back into the couch and let Kappa gaze at her for longer than she’d ever wanted him to, suddenly open to this experience. His hair hangs around his face, tangled and wild and wavy. His knuckles are chapped, fingers slim as they bring the little pipe back to his own lips. He is unblinking as he watches her over the flame, over the burning little leaves.

“You seem a little more relaxed. Seemed a little off just a few minutes ago. Nerves? Are you… you wouldn’t be scared of your buddy Kappa, would you, sweetheart?”

“Not scared,” she says carefully. She shifts a little in her seat and bites the inside of her cheek. “How would you know what I’m like, anyway?”

“Human interaction is a wonderful, complex thing. The energy we give off, the smells, the sounds, the animal magnetism. Animals - that is to say, living, natural beings, blood in veins and flesh on our bones - they can sense these things naturally. I’m very intuitive. Very sensitive. It’s my gift. It’s why I feel so strongly about experiencing new things, about… sometimes teaching other people the beauty of life, of living, of taking back what’s ours. Owning what’s ours.”

“You’re losing me, Kappa,” she teases. “I might need to smoke a little more before I’m on your level.”

“You understand my basic point. I know you’re a smart girl. Open-hearted. You know, you’d really get along with us - Sigma, Theta, Epsilon. That’s who you saw outside, with the pup - Epsilon.”

“What’s with the names?”

“Mmm.” He takes another hit and finally gives her a reprieve from his intensive gaze, eyes practically burning through her flesh. Deep-set eyes. Bedroom eyes. Smoke streaming from his lungs, he nods at himself. “Well. There’s a power in identity. I, as a living being, have the inherent right to choose my path. I give and take and protect the sanctity of natural life and the furthering of that natural life. Part of my process is choosing my own name. I was given my birth-name, and eventually took a new name for myself. Nature is fickle, breakable. Give. Take. Like life. Life is given, life is taken.”

“Getting pretty deep in here.”

“That’s my pleasure as well as my duty as a man,” he muses, licking his lips. “Getting really deep. Planting seeds.”

The urge to scoff, to laugh and look away, to haul her way into a distraction, another conversation, something, knocks her on her proverbial ass. It’s all she can do to pretend she isn’t turning red. It would be easy to blame the heat, to blame the smoke… but he’d see right through that. For all of Kappa’s philosophical ranting, he’s right about his perception of others. She can feel him reading her, studying her like she’s a specimen in some laboratory.

He follows her movement as she ducks her head down, leaning forward to force her eye contact. His lips purse a little and he licks them again, his fingers crawling over her thigh to squeeze. Again, the urge to brush or even slap his hand away is at the forefront, but she doesn’t. She sheepishly meets his eye, ashamed of her own discomfort, her own utter excitement.

“Darlin’ - there is nothing wrong or immoral about these… urges, our collective responsibility as a species. Animals are meant to breed. It’s all in the blood. We’re not - we’re not machines, we’re not meant to be cold, lifeless. Purposeless. The whole fucking thing - the entire idea of these replicants, of playing God and mocking mother nature, it’s… it’s disgusting. But this - us? This is the most natural thing there is.”

In his impassioned speech, Kappa leans closer and closer, hand creeping higher on her thigh. The graceful, long line of his nose is so close she could lick the tip of it. He tilts his head and only then does he break eye contact, watching her lips. His eyes flicker between them and her eyes, pupils wide. It’s hypnotizing, the low purr of his voice floating over the warm afternoon air to caress her ears.

“Kappa…” she can barely breathe. “I - I should… this is -”

“Hey.” Kappa is murmuring, voice soft, but the underlying authority shuts her up. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches with dread as he casually takes the hunting knife into his hand. “Listen, sugar. You have a choice to make. In a second, I could get Epsilon in here and he would be more than happy to hold you down while I show you the meaning of life firsthand. I can make it very, very unforgettable for you… and you have to choose whether that’s gunna be a good thing or a bad thing. If I have to interrupt Epsilon’s time with this task, I’m afraid that’s going to make everyone upset, and that would be very bad for you. Are you hearing me, sweetheart?”

“Yes…yeah, I hear you.”

“What I really think is that you’re tethered by the morals of society. You’re stuck in a prison of the mind, you’ve been poisoned. ‘Sex is evil, trust in technology, evolve, evolve, evolve’. There’s nothing wrong with the way things have been for thousands upon thousands of years; villages of people looking out for each other and keeping the natural balance and order. It’s up to us to restore that order.”

He slowly moves in, attention flickering between her lips and her eyes. Her heart beats so hard she can feel each thump in her ears, in the tip of her nose… between her thighs. It throbs secret and hot there, his hand inching closer by the second. He’s captivating - batshit crazy, but charming in a strange way that keeps her rooted to the spot despite the alarm going off in her brain. She should leave. She should just back away and get to the door - her car’s right outside.

… but she doesn’t. She drinks in his mean little self-satisfied smirk just before he kisses her. His lips are surprisingly soft, his kiss gentle and slow. It almost makes her forget about the knife in his hand. He snakes his hand around the back of her neck and holds her firmly there, knotting those slim fingers into her hair. It hurts as he curls them into a fist. He swallows the surprised little whimper she makes, moaning in return as he becomes more aggressive, her lip between his teeth.

“Now - I’m not in the business of indecency with non-human entities. I’m sure you’re a natural being, but… my convictions are strong, and I need to be a hundred percent sure. Okay?”

“Wait, Kappa… wait. What do you mean?”

“Gotta make sure you’re not one of them. I need you to be real good for me and take off your pants.”

Kappa runs the tip of his knife lightly up her thigh, tickling her with it. He traces it up the seam, breath picking up the closer he gets to her cunt. His lips are plush, kiss-bruised and parted as he stares down at the knife. His excitement permeates everything around them, the air thick with it, his eyes wide and bright and his chest practically heaving. She should have run. She should have run before he had his hand in her hair, a knife tracing her inner thighs. He looks absolutely hungry. He looks up from under those lashes and searches her expression, taking in every detail as though memorizing her terror, tattooing it permanently into his mind for later use.

“I don’t wanna hurt you more than I already have to. And I can’t have you running,” he murmurs. His voice so low, wavering a little as adrenaline rushes through his veins. They cord his forearms, his strong hands. She can see his rapid butterfly pulse in his throat. “Make this easy on yourself, darlin’. Faster you listen, the faster I can make you feel good.”

He uncurls his fingers, allowing her space to do as he asks. Still he hovers, knife ever present and threatening. His eyes are manic, sliding over each new inch of exposed flesh as she unbuttons and pushes her pants, her panties down her hips, off her legs in a few clumsy kicks. With the knife, he motions at her shirt - up, up.

“Kappa…”

“I could do it for you, if you like. But what I’m not gunna do is ask twice… this is your last warning.”

In contrast to his soft, smooth voice is the undercurrent of malice. Self-assured. Not a hint of doubt in his mind, focused on his intentions and making zero room for failure or disobedience. There’s a sense of authority, of somebody well accustomed to being followed without question. He reaches into the table to fish a small glass vial out, flicking the cork loose with his thumb before he sprinkles a generous line on the dull edge of his knife. He snorts it off and gasps a little, shaking his head, wiping the white off his nostril. He hums with pleasure and does another, much smaller line, before offering her one of her own.

“I’ve never done anything like that,” she says quietly.

“I look forward to the pleasure of opening you up to all kinds of new things.”

He nods encouragingly, as if to say, bottoms up. Like feeding a child medicine, like convincing somebody to drink poison. She pleads with him for a moment with her eyes and he pets her thigh, squeezes softly. He sets his jaw and waits, unwavering. She does as asked - what choice does she have with a knife in her face? - and snorts the baby line, wincing at the way it burns fire up into her sinuses. She paws at her nose like an animal, rubbing it, wiping it to relieve the discomfort.

“It fucking burns, fuck.”

“Yeah, that will happen. You get used to it with time. Now - come on, let’s… get this…”

Trailing off, he guides her to straighten up so he can peel the shirt off her body. Defeated, she raises her arms and allows him to pull it over her head, immediately crossing them over her body once liberated of her top. He clucks his tongue and pries her arms open, taking all of her in. Every curve, every dimple, every freckle, every detail. He wastes no time in pulling her bra off the same way, and her face burns with shame as she squeezes her eyes shut.

He angles her chin with his fingers, cooing down at her to look at him, open her eyes. She does as requested and he smiles tenderly down at her.

“I promise this will only hurt a little bit. But I have to do it. It’s my will and duty to do it,” he says, and there’s a feeling in the back of her mind that he’s convincing the both of them. The thing she can’t deny about his manic, lidded eyes, the way his mouth is set in a triumphant smirk, is that it’s utterly intoxicating. He’s beautiful in some strange way. The tension in the air is thick and palpable. Suffocating.

He turns his attentions to her thighs and draws in a shaky little breath. Without ceremony, without warning or preparation, he turns the knife and draws it efficiently in a line on her inner thigh. Blood beads up almost immediately and the skin splits open as though blooming, a red, dripping little mouth. The pain is immediate and she cries out, afraid to move but unable to recoil from it. He holds her thigh down, making a sound that could have been him clearing his throat or a grunt of pleasure.

“Oh, there you are. There you are. Natural as ever.” His voice goes low, hoarse, and he presses the heel of his palm against his hardening cock. “A real woman, flesh and blood and sinew. A real woman for a real man.”

He does it again, draws the knife in a quick, shallow slash, and then again, again. Most of them aren’t as deep as the first - most of them don’t yawn open and reveal the layer of flesh underneath, but they all run blood down her inner thighs, soaking dark little spots into the cushion of his old couch. He pants until he’s practically hyperventilating, and brings the blade up to his mouth. Closing his eyes, he savors licking it clean, moaning, pulling at his shirt until he tosses the weapon back into the table’s compartment and yanks it off. The body underneath is long, milky pale.

“The taste of you - I need more of you.” He hooks his hands underneath her knees and yanks, pulling her down and spreading her legs open. He kisses her abused inner thighs, ignoring her fingers tugging into his hair as she pleads softly for him to stop, to be gentle. He runs his tongue over them, pushes inside of the deepest wound just a little, just enough for her to grit her teeth against a scream, to trap it back in her throat. “That’s it. There’s a good girl. You let Kappa take care of you, let me show you - fuck, I want all of you. Every single bit, mine.”

His flushed face is smeared with red, lips wet with it as he licks them. Her blood is on his teeth as he grins, wolfish, kissing up and up and up until he presses a soft kiss against the lips of her cunt. He drags his tongue between them, slow. Calculated.

“Kappa.”

“Tell me how much you want it. Tell me you want me to taste your blood, your cum. Tell me you’ll give me everything.”

He goes back to work, awaiting her response with all the patience of somebody used to a little insolence. It takes time to break a new one in, right? And she’s so very shiny and new, a challenge. A territory to conquer and claim, all this soft, generous flesh, all this clean mind to furrow into and spread like a disease.

“I… I want… you, I want you.”

Kappa moans and the vibrations against her send her into a new realm of pleasure. Something rhythmic, quick, powerful - whatever he gave her is slowly worming its way into her bloodstream, into her brain, making everything soft and hard all at once. Electric. Vibrant. Time both stops and speeds by, sweat beading at her hairline as she writhes under his mouth, under the sensation of his fingernails catching into a fresh wound. It all boils down to some horrible base sensation. All of it has her grimacing in pleasure - there are a hundred reasons she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be doing this, the bright red alarms in her body screaming for her to GET UP, LEAVE, RUN, STOP, STOP, ESCAPE ESCAPEESCAPEESCAPE—

And she lay anyway, the circle of her overstimulated thoughts coming back again to Kappa’s mouth, his tongue and lips and fingers and teeth, his body the color of moonlight even though she knows the sun is blazing hot and sticky outside. Girls trapped in a room. Her trapped on the couch. Kappa trained expertly on her clit, lapping, moaning, drooling. Something about all this must make sense, it all comes together, somehow - but exactly how eludes her. She’ll remember later, maybe. She’s responsible, dependable. Smart. Maybe this is why Kappa likes her so much. Maybe he has something to share, maybe what he’s saying makes a little sense. Maybe. Maybe, maybe. The only truth is the way he eats her alive, the way he clings to her thighs and moans into her cunt like he can’t live without tasting her another second.

“Kappa,” she gasps. “I’m gunna cum.”

Kappa lifts his face and wipes this chin on the back of his hand, pupils eating into the ocean of his bright irises. It’s like a perfect eclipse. There’s something there, something in the meaning of it all; she feels on the cusp on something important, life-changing. Kappa stares so deeply into her that she can feel him reaching down into her heart, into her fucking guts, into the core of her. Squeezing. Knowing. Exploring. Everything is heightened, everything feels like some kind of milestone; how could she have missed any of this before? How did she never notice the way his hair falls into his eyes? How did she miss the exact curve of his cupid’s bow, of the way his throat curves into the cradle of his collarbones?

“I know,” he says softly. He breaks his gaze to pull his trousers down - they’re so thin, the material. He unties the front and pulls them down his slim hips, cock bouncing out, and she has to hold her breath. He’s thicker than expected. He gives her a knowing look, again, constantly - he seems to pick up so much. Doesn’t he? Is this - is this her own mind? How did she not see how he sparkled before, how smooth his skin is? How good he feels even breathing against her?

What did he make her take? And how can she feel so much, and can she feel more, can she do this more often?

Kappa smiles, and it’s so kind. He strokes her cheek with his thumb like he hasn’t drugged her, cut her open, forced her into her current position. He smiles like he’s proud, like he’s glowing and the only thing in the world, and he is. He is the only thing in the world. She marvels up at him and waits for him to speak. He must be accustomed to this. He takes his cock into his own hand and strokes lazily, rubbing himself against her, up, down.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers. He lines himself up to plunge into her, and she can’t help but match his breath - panting, desperate. Sweating. He licks whatever tears remain on her face - she’d forgotten they were there. Tears, sweat, blood, cum - what’s the difference? “Oh, little lamb. Don’t worry. Kappa will take care of you.”

He thrusts into her with all the softness of a battering ram. He’s balls-deep before she can even utter the first shriek, high-pitched and whining. He breathes it in, leans down to seal his lips against hers again before they’re both taking in each other’s moans, melting together with each vicious thrust. He pounds into her, hands unable to decide what to do - to grab her by the face, to dig his fingers into her plush, aching thighs, to run them up over her chest to fondle her there. He slows his pace only to lean down and pay attention to her nipples, his tongue and lips and the threat of his teeth.

“Touch yourself.”

There’s no argument - there are barely any coherent words left inside of her. Everything is pushed out and filled by Kappa, his cock, his words. His drugs.

She reaches between her thighs and he slows his pace, the roll of his hips delicious. His hair hangs down and tickles her face. She can do nothing but rub at her clit and stare up at him, and he beams down at her, smirking. The sharp angles of his face, the traces of her own blood still present on his lips. Sweat, pulse, flesh, blood.

“You gunna cum for me, sugar? Can feel it - can feel your tight little cunt squeezing against me. Is - oh, is that the spot?” He settles into a new rhythm, the head of his cock dragging over and over the same hyper-sensitive nerves inside of her. Her breath hitches and she’s practically sobbing, begging him, nodding when words fail. Her fingers are so wet. The sounds their bodies make together seems deafening - her fingers making hurried circles around her clit, his cock relentless in filling her slippery pussy. Her whining, his soothing voice as he builds her closer and closer. It’s painful, it’s passionate. She could die right here. He could plunge that knife into her throat and she’d still cum for him.

“Kappa. Kappa, I’m so close, I’m sooo close.” Pathetic. Mewling. She hyperventilates and her body shakes underneath him, like she might come apart. His eyes are so bright. He’s so focused.

“I know. I know,” he says. “Tell Kappa what you need.”

“I - I need - I need you, I need you. Please.”

“I’m right here. You’re doing so well, look at you - trembling. Gunna cry for me? Go on - cry for me. I want all of you.”

She hadn’t realized the tears building until he brought it to her attention. As if on cue, as though her body has decided that Kappa’s word is as good as truth, they spill over her lashes and track down her cheekbones, and she’s sniffling, soft little gasps and whines as he leans down to trace those tracks with his tongue. He moans, breath hot against her face. He kisses her wet eyelids before kissing her mouth, and the feeling of those shapely lips pushes her past the edge. Every muscle in her body tightens to its limit and she’s cumming for him, finding her voice after all that pitiful whining as she moans and sinks her nails into his back.

“There. There you go, good girl, good girl, fuck! You’re so good for me.”

His pace picks up and loses its poetic, slow grind, and he’s grunting and growling like a beast, like he aims to fuck her in half. Their bodies slap together and she’s seeing stars behind her eyes, crying out when he bites at her throat and sucks her flesh between his teeth. An animal playing with its dinner. In a matter of minutes, he’s stiffening up, pace stuttering to a few deep, mean thrusts as he empties into her. There’s a part of her that thinks she can feel it, his seed hitting the tender curve of her cervix and coating her from the inside.

There’s a shared pause in which they catch their breath. He idly fondles her tits as he comes down from the thrill, careful with her. The mischievous spark is still in his eyes, but they’re softer, too. Subdued.

They re-dress in silence. She catches him staring at the cuts on her thighs as she grabs her pants, her shirt.

“I should - I should probably get these fixed up,” she mumbles. In the comedown of their act, the fear returns in a cold trickle down her spine. Her heart never slowed down - where it was hammering in the cage of her chest for what he was doing to her moments before, it now beats for what he might still do to her if she remains. She feels like an alien, realizing for the first time that she’s done something she cannot undo in a territory that isn’t her own. Unsafe. Targeted. She’s a fucking idiot - how did this happen? Her mind races with trepidation, with the drugs still coursing through her heart in the thick, viscous blood there. There’s a thought, a mental picture of him with his hands buried elbow-deep beneath her ribs, naked body smeared with blood as he prizes his fingers around her heart to pull it out. The things he would do.

“Don’t,” he says simply. He pulls his trousers up and ties them. “I want to see them next time. Want ‘em to scar up nice. No ointment, no bandages.”

“What? Wait - next time?”

Kappa flashes a grin as he straightens up, shirtless and flushed. There are red marks where she’d dug her fingers into him, on his chest, on his back.

“You don’t think you can stay away from Kappa, do you?” He narrows his eyes and shakes his head a little, wagging his finger at her like a bad pet. “You know better than that, my dear.”

The fabric of her pants scrapes against her wounds and she has to wince. The sharp, prickling pain of them is intense, throbbing. Kappa’s territory. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she fishes some bills from her purse, tucking the weed into a pocket and tossing the money to the table.

“Thanks for the… uh. Thanks. It was…” she struggles to find the words. He stalks slowly up to her, and she wants to both back away and kiss him all at once. “It was - enlightening.”

“Right. Very,” he agrees, clearly amused.

“Well, I - I’ll see you around, Kappa.”

He leads her to the door and winks at her, like sharing a secret. Across the yard, Epsilon has stopped playing with the dog. He sits in a patch of dry yellow grass and smokes a cigarette, eyeing them from a distance with interest. Kappa glances at him and back at her, taking all of her in as his eyes trace the line of her body, lewd, hungry again. He tongues the edge of a tooth and watches her fixate on his tongue, clearly pleased with himself.

“You certainly will.”

[twisting-in-wonderland]

if there was an autobiography based on any of the twst characters lives, which one would you be the most interested in hearing?

I'm torn between two--

but in the end. DEFINITELY Rook's--

He'd write so much irrelevant detail, and in the end you'd know so much, yet so little about his life,,

plus- hear me out-

there's 70 parts in total

(second place was Lilia, since that guy's been through a LOT ( i mainly want to hear about the places he's been to and the food he's had tbh--- (if lilia did try and release his autobiography, it'd probably be a multi-part too- most people would think it was a fantasy story instead of an actual autobiography though lol--))

tied third was crowley and Grim as a joke, because 99% of it would be exaggerated and full of lies, i would read either one's to make fun of it-)

transcript under read more-- (since my hand writing is rough sry--)

image 1 :

Rook - 'Roi du poison! I have finished my Autobiography!'

image 2:

Vil - 'It's very well written, Rook.'

Rook - 'Oh! Bon! I am over-joyed to hear that! So you like it, Roi du poison?'

Vil - 'Of course.'

Rook - 'Bien! I shall fetch part two for you both!'

(on the side-

Epel - 'Why are there two pages describing us...?'

Image 3:

Vil and Epel - '...Part two?'

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I wouldn't really agree that boys are just arm candy in magical girl shows and only there to look cute. Yeah, sure the girls' friendships are the focus, but the boys are usually very much involved in the plot and most shows do explore their feelings about the odd things that happen due to magical shenanigans even if they aren't in the know (It's why ML baffles me even more with how they screwed up Adren's arc when he's the deuteragonist, when all these boys are supporting cast and get well rounded arcs)

I'm not much of a winx fan, but the specialists were very much not arm candy. Did the girls talk about them being cute? Yes, it's what teenage girls do. Did the narrative suggest they were good looking? Yes, but that's standard for most love interests in any genre. But we still got scenes with them talking amongst themselves about how they themselves feel and they got a fair share of badass fight scenes even if they wield no magic. A large amount of episodes actually included the boys and girls working as a team solving a mystery or fighting a villain. The girls might deal the finishing blow but the boys were still integral to the plot.

I hope this doesn't come across as hate, it definitely wasn't my intention. I'm just a bit too passionate about the magical girl genre.

I do think you have a good point with ML having a problem choosing a genre or blending two genres successfully.

For the CCS fans, I will add though that Cardcaptor Sakura had both Tomoyo and Syaoran serve as sources of motivation for Sakura. And both Sakura and Syaoran collecting cards even if Sakura is the only one who could seal them and yet never made you question whether Syaoran was even necessary for the job the way ml does with Chat.

I wasn't trying to say that boys have no part to play in magical girl team shows or that they're always treated as having no lives beyond the girls, that's why I mentioned that the Winx Club boys - aka, the Specialists - have their own (mostly off screen) lives and occasionally show up help the girls:

the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship

Even then, this is certainly a simplification of the roles that they play in the story, but I kind of had to simplify their roles down to their base components for the original post's discussion as I was talking in broad strokes of how these stories are written.

In terms of those broad strokes, the Specialists are absolutely only there for shipping fodder. That's why each one is assigned to a girl from the start and why their main role in the narrative is supporting their assigned love interest or causing relationship-based drama for their assigned love interest. If it weren't for shipping, then the Specialists would not exist.

While the Specialists do have fleshed out characters and may even effect the plot, the execution of those elements is designed around the girls. A really obvious example of this is the character Timmy, who has character development as the boy's tech guy. Why is he into technology? Because he's the designated love interest for the fairy of Technology and we have to show why they're a good match. Along similar lines, the boys don't really get plots that are removed from the girls because this is the girl's show. Every episode features one or more of the Winx, but the boys are optional and often don't appear.

This is because, narratively speaking, the boys are just love interests and that brings us back to Miraculous' big problem. You can't have a show where Adrien is written like a Specialist while also being part of the Winx Club and where Alya is written like she's part of the Winx Club while technically being more of a Specialist in terms of power set and actual narrative role.

I'm was thinking back to my memories of various Winx Club plots to find one that really highlighted what I mean here and I remembered that one of the big dramas in season one was the reveal that Bloom's love interest - Sky - was in an arranged marriage and had just never told her. As it turns out, that's a great example of what I'm talking about re Adrien!

Is that plot line technically based around Sky and letting his life effect the plot? Sure, but the fallout of that reveal revolves around Bloom, not Sky. The story doesn't really care how Sky's feeling as the conflict progresses. Instead, it focuses on how it affects Bloom and her friends because of course it does! She's the main character. It would be really weird if that plot suddenly focused on her side character love interest and his friends during one of her darkest hours/biggest moments.

Think of that and then consider how the ending of season five is written. Notice any similarities? Sure, this is Adrien's family drama, but because he's just a Specialist, the focus isn't on him. It's on Winx Club member Marinette and Adrien only shows up at the end for a kiss. That is the problem. That is what I'm talking about when I say that Miraculous will randomly write him as if we're watching a magical girl team show where Adrien is just the love interest.

In fact, let's really dig into this example because it's a good one.

You can have a look at the transcript for the finale episode of Miraculous season five here and see for yourself that Adrien doesn't even show up on screen until the final scenes when the big drama is over. The Winx Club wiki also has episode transcripts, so I took a look to see what happened in Winx land during the arranged marriage reveal plot (I love that this is a thing. It's so useful for fact checking myself!) This is the script for the episode after Bloom learns the truth. Sky does not appear even though his lies and family drama are the fuel for this episode's events, which are a major part of the season's arc. Note how perfectly that matches Adrien's writing?

Similarly, Sky's dialogue in the reveal episode is all about Bloom. He's worried about her learning the truth and thinking less of him. To match that, here's Adrien's only real dialogue in the penultimate episode of season five (full transcript):

Adrien:(Covers his ears.) I cannot transform... (Looks at his ring and tries taking it off.) Plagg: What are you doing?! Adrien: I'm not in my right mind. I'm too angry — at myself for falling short of Marinette's love, at my father for sending me here in London, at this stupid app and these rings that use my image... it makes me sick! This nightmare is giving me the horrible feeling that, if I transform, I'll get akumatized and destroy everything with my Cataclysm��— Marinette, Ladybug... (Takes off the ring and hands it to Plagg.)

Switching back to Winx. After Bloom learns the truth about Sky, bad things happen because she's depressed. This results in her and the Winx going off on a journey to learn the truth of who Bloom is. After the girls share this big plot moment and Bloom gets her mojo back, the boys show up to be their ride home and to give Bloom her romance moment where Sky wins her back by declaring that he broke off the arranged married because he loves her.

Sky notably doesn't get an arc about choosing between his arranged marriage and his true love. We don't even know that the marriage is broken off until he tells Bloom because that was never really a conflict as far as the narrative was concerned. Of course he's going to pick Bloom! He's her designated side character love interest! He only exists to be with her. We don't need to treat this as a serious thing for him. The arranged marriage plot was never about him anyway. It was about giving Bloom a reason to have a darkest hour moment that moves the plot forward. Similarly, Sky calling off the marriage is nowhere near as important as him telling Bloom that he's called off the marriage to be with her in a grand romantic gesture.

This perfectly mirrors Miraculous' season five ending where Adrien doesn't appear until after Marinette is done fighting her big girl power fight against his father. As far as the writing is concerned, that fight isn't about him. His connection to the villain only really matters in terms of how it affects Marinette's actions during the final battle. Then, when the battle is over, Adrien shows up to give Marinette her big romance moment because, while the plot may be driven by Adrien's family, he is not a Winx club member. He's just a Specialist. Or, in the words of the head writer:

[image text: She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?] (The full, even more damning context of this tweet can be found here.)

What else can I say other than, "I rest my case."

Oh, and also that I didn't take this as an attack. I just thought it was a good opportunity to really dig into the nuances of this and what I was talking about in that original post as I never know how obvious this stuff is if you don't closely study story telling. As this case study hopefully shows, if a show is about a group of girl friends using the power of friendship, then their love interests may have important roles, but the boys are never going to be more important than the girls and most of the boy's screen time will be focused on romance and how their existence effects the girls because it's ultimately the girls' world. Without them, the show wouldn't exist. Without the boys? Well, then we just wouldn't have a romance plot.

[kris-mage-fics]

I was super lucky to win a commission from @nerdferatum and can't thank Sara enough for this absolutely gorgeous art of Kyrahlise and Shery! I'm in love with it have literally cried over it three times now! I really hope folks can see some of the romance novel cover art inspiration going on here, I thought it was what Shery deserves! Also, please zoom in on the full piece, because you can't see Kyrah's adorable freckles here with how much tumblr compresses the image, and that's a damn shame. Now please excuse me while I go stare at it some more!

Edit: In my excitement, I forget to tag @shepherds-of-haven because without the game there couldn't be this beautiful drawing!

[smile-files]

one of my favorite kinds of doodle: take the letters that spell out the name of a thing and use them to create the shape of that thing!!! (if you can't read any of these, they will be written out below <3)

going top down, left to right:

bone; butterfly; bee; joy; moth

kitty cat; snail; love; spongebob squarepants

eye; puppy dog; candy; wally darling; dolphin

hand; the element of kindness; lollypop; pencil

[fightwing]

bruce immediately asking if he hurt dick after days spent infected yeah okay dc i see this and i raise you: 😭😭😭

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 11

I had an absolute blast with this prompt and I've been looking forward to it for a while. I should've gone and bought some wine so I could write being IDed from experience though. Unrealistic writing 😮😮😮

Convenience Store

Each item was set neatly on the conveyor belt.

A roll of duct tape. Kleenex. Air freshener. Trash bags. Zipties. Rubbing alcohol. Superglue. A bottle of merlot. Disinfectant. Sponges. Latex gloves. A wrist brace. Ibuprofen. A hammer. And a bar of chocolate.

A bright beep sounded as the cashier scanned each one.

“Doing some home improvement?” They smiled, placing the superglue onto the other side of the conveyor where one of their customers, the shorter of the two, was busy bagging with their head down. The other stacked the empty shopping basket with the others and pulled out their wallet.

“Definitely an improvement project,” they nodded back with a knowing look. “The whole thing just needs to be demolished and rebuilt at this point.”

“Oh I hear you. A pipe burst in my basement just last month and my spouse had to stop me from tearing the whole thing down then and there.” The cashier scanned the wine and paused. “Your ID please, Mx.?”

They flashed it with a toothy grin. 

“I’m flattered!”

“Just doing my job. Thank you.” They typed something into the system and picked up the next item. A few items later, a snort broke their calm demeanor.

“Hm?”

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry Mx! Just had a funny thought.” The cashier scanned the hammer. 

“Do share! Lord knows we could use the humor.” They elbowed their partner who smiled meekly and nodded along, balancing with a crutch under their arm. 

“Well, sometimes home improvement supplies look a lot like premeditated murder supplies,” they giggled, and the taller one broke out into raucous laughter. The shorter just shook their head. “Sorry, I meant no offense.”

Realizing they were being addressed, they fixed the sullen expression across their face.

“Ah, none taken! I’ve just had a tough day, what with this shithead and all.” A playful poke to their partner who just laughed again.

“You’re in for it when we get home!” They stuck out their tongue.

The other went back to catch the items they’d missed in that time, slipping the chocolate bar in their pocket. 

“Alright, cash or card?”

“Card please.”

“Your receipt?” 

“Sure, why not.”

“Perfect. Have a good one!” 

“You too!”

The taller one took most of the bags, but the other still managed to carry one. They were almost out the door when a voice shouted out.

“Oh! Excuse me, I think you forgot one of your items!” The cashier held up the hammer, and the couple turned around. Neither came forward to claim it, but with a nudge and a whisper, the shorter allowed the cashier to drop it into their bag. “Can’t do any demolition without that, can you?” 

“Absolutely not, I’m glad we didn’t forget it!” The other didn’t say a word, struggling to lift the bag now, and then the two were gone. 

.

“Interesting what you choose to forget, darling.” A hissing whisper in their ear, so different from the friendly persona they put on in public.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re implying,” they averted their eyes as the trunk of the car opened. Fuck. 

Their captor’s foot landed on their broken ankle and they had to suppress a scream.

“I let you have one good leg for today. Don’t let me regret it.” The bag was taken right out of their hand. “In.”

They crutched up to the passenger door but a clearing of the throat stopped them.

“Childlock doesn’t work on that seat.”

Somehow, climbing into the back was more humiliating after that comment. The door was slammed shut before they could do so themself, and they felt the car shake with how hard the trunk was slammed. A horrible indicator of what was to come.

“I behaved around the store,” they grumbled when the doors locked and the engine turned on. 

“And then you fuckin’ ruined it.” 

“Black and white thinking much…” 

A fist flew against the passenger headrest and they were suddenly grateful to be flinching in the backseat.

“I’m buying a car with blacked out windows. That way, next time, I can throttle you in the backseat.”

[hephaestuscrew]

"Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…": Minkowski's love of musical theatre and what it reveals about her characterisation and her relationships

TL;DR: Renée Minkowski's love of musicals, while it might seem just like a mundane character detail, is used to give depth to her character because it contrasts with expectations of her from both the listening audience and the other characters. Her willingness or unwillingness to share this interest in different circumstances reveals her relationships with other characters at various points. Since this is a long one, if you'd rather read it as a document, you can view it here: Google Doc version.

"She actually really cares about these talent shows": Episode 8 (Box 953)

In the early episodes of Season 1, Minkowski is presented (largely through Eiffel's unreliable perspective) purely as a strict no-nonsense authority figure without much emotional depth, the kind of person who only likes things that are useful, purposeful, or mandated by Command. In contrast, musical theatre is a creative pursuit that has nothing to do with the mission of the Hephaestus and is viewed by many people as fairly frivolous or silly. The gradual exploration of Minkowski's passion for musicals is one of the many ways that the show expands and challenges our understanding of her as a character. 

The first indication that we get of her interest in musicals is through her entry into the infamous talent show, something that is required as part of the mission. Minkowski really cares about 'crew morale' activities in general, even when they actually have a negative effect on morale and even before she's friends with any of her crew (for example, the Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners in the earlier stage of the mission), perhaps partly because doing things in the "right way" is important to her. 

But Eiffel senses that the talent shows aren't just about rules for her: "it’s bad enough when she makes us do something just because it’s military protocol, but I think that she actually really cares about these talent shows". This might be the first indication that we get of Minkowski caring deeply about anything that isn't inherently part of her role as a Commander. Moments like this are part of the gradual process of giving us insight into her character beyond the Commander archetype that she tries to embody. And yet, she only indulges her theatrical passion because something mandatory gives her permission, or an excuse, to let another part of herself out.

Of course, to satisfy the needs of a talent show, she'd only need to provide a performance of a few minutes. But Eiffel mentions "the second act of the play" - which along with Hera's comment that "Isabel isn't the biggest role in the play" - implies that Minkowski was intending to put on the whole of Pirates of Penzance as her talent show act, rather than a few of the songs or some kind of medley. (I suppose that Eiffel could be exaggerating or Minkowski might have been planning to do extracts from different parts of the play, but I prefer the interpretation in which Minkowski gets to be more ridiculous.) 

Even though no one else would be willing to be in her production of Pirates of Penzance, Minkowski casts Hera as Isabel, a role with two lines and no solo singing. I found some audition notes for this play which said "The traditional staging gives [Isabel] more prominence than the solo opportunities of the part suggest, so she must be a good actress" which does make me sad in relation to Hera's inability to have a more significant role by being physically present on stage. 

It’s sweet that Hera still wants to take part though. She tells Eiffel "Pirates of Penzance is a classic of 19th century comic opera", so either she’s absorbed what Minkowski has told her about the show, or she’s done her own research and formed her own opinions. I enjoy the fact that Hera is the one Hephaestus crew member who shows potential to share Minkowski's musical theatre appreciation; I like to think that this is something they could explore together post-canon.

Anyway, I'm obsessed with the idea that Minkowski was planning to play every character except one in Pirates of Penzance, a show which is designed to have 10 principal characters and a chorus of 14 men. It seems that her contribution to the talent show was supposed to be an entire two-hour two-act musical, with costumes and props, in which she would play almost all of the parts. This is very funny to me as the perhaps predictable consequence of giving an ambitious and frustrated grown-up theatre kid a position of authority and asking them to arrange a talent show. Minkowski knows that the audience will be made up of her subordinates who are theoretically obliged by the chain of command to watch and listen, so she absolutely tries to make the most of that opportunity. There's probably also a degree to which she limits other people's involvement in her musical because - as with her other endeavors - she wants the outcome to be almost entirely within her control (something that is usually pretty much impossible in as collaborative a medium as musical theatre).

Of course, Minkowski's behaviour in most of the talent show episode is affected by her being drugged by Hilbert. This creates an exaggerated situation which is the first real opportunity for Minkowski to be something other than the strict sensible authoritarian Commander and the foil to Eiffel's jokey laid-back attitude. I don't agree with ideas that being intoxicated brings out anyone's true self (especially in the absence of consent for the intoxication), but it seems pretty clear that being under the influence of whatever was in Hilbert's concoction caused Minkowski to fully commit to a level of manic enthusiasm for her musical production that might have otherwise been obscured by her professionalism. It's a particular kind of person who belts showtunes when drunk, and Minkowski is that kind of person, even if that's not how she wants to present herself. (As a sidenote, I seem to remember that they took Emma Sherr-Ziarko's script off her to help her sound more drunk. It's an excellent performance.)

Minkowski wants interval ice cream. She wants "pirate costumes" (and she'll threaten to shoot a man to get them). She wants "swashes and buckles". She wants whatever props she can get her hands on (including a real cannon). This show is important to her, even though only three other people will witness it and two of them actively don't want to be there. It’s important to her for its own sake.

Eiffel says Minkowski wants "a second pair of eyes to tell her if the prop sabre for her Major-General costume was a bit much…"  While I certainly wouldn't put it past Goddard Futuristics to have a prop sabre on the station for no apparent reason, it feels more likely that she might have made it or adapted some existing item. Which suggests that maybe she was that passionate about the props even before Hilbert drugged her. 

Even so, it does feel significant that Minkowski's love of musicals is only revealed in the episode in which she is drugged, exhibiting lowered inhibitions, exaggerated behaviour, and an "impaired euphoric effect". Her love of musical theatre is initially revealed through a professional structure that provides permission, and then further emphasised by a forced intoxication that exaggerates some impulses that perhaps she already had.

"Some hobbies other than making trains run on time": Episode 17 (Bach to the Future)

After Eiffel tells to find Minkowski to find something else to do while her work duties have quietened down, they have the following exchange:

EIFFEL: You must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time. Something to do with friends? Boyfriends? MINKOWSKI: Of course I do, but, well, there aren't really a lot of opportunities for rock climbing or trail hiking in the immediate vicinity. 

Even though this quote doesn't mention musicals, I've included it here for two reasons. Firstly, it's very funny to me that, even after the talent show debacle, Eiffel acts like he's never had any evidence of Minkowski's hobbies. She tried to perform a whole play almost single-handedly and it didn't occur to him that this might indicate an interest of hers outside of work. I think this reflects the fairly two-dimensional view that Eiffel has previously had of Minkowski, which her interest in musical theatre didn't fit into. 

Secondly, it feels notable that Minkowski doesn't mention musical theatre here. She wants to show that she has non-work interests, but without undermining her own authoritative image. Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking - while it may be genuine - fits with how she wants to be seen as a Commander. These are hobbies which portray her as physically capable, with a high degree of stamina and a willingness to adapt to perhaps less hospitable surroundings. Of course, Minkowski does have these traits and they serve her well on the Hephaestus. But there's not really anything particularly surprising about her expressing these interests. The surprise in this scene comes from the reveal that she has a husband, a character detail which - like her love of musicals - isn't something we'd necessarily expect from the archetype-based view of her we are initially presented with. 

Her interest in rock climbing and trail hiking never come up again, because these details don't really deepen her characterisation (or at least, they aren't really used to deepen her characterisation beyond proving that she isn't entirely all-work-and-no-play). In contrast, Minkowski's love of musicals is brought up over and over because it shows another side of her that she struggles to reveal on the Hephaestus, and that allows more interesting things to be done with her characterisation.

"You wanted to write showtunes": Episode 35 (Need to Know)

Alongside the more high stakes discoveries prompted by the leak from Kepler's files, we also learn that Minkowski applied to - and was rejected from - the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program.

Up until this point, we've only had evidence that Minkowski enjoys performing in musicals. But here we learn that Minkowski doesn't just love watching or performing in musicals - she wanted to write them too. This suggests a creative side to her that we never see her fully express.

The course

The Tisch Graduate Musical Theatre Writing Program claims to be the only course of its kind in the world and it accepts just 30 students each year. The current application process requires applicants to: upload play scripts or recordings of songs they've written; answer a large number of extended response questions about their creative process and views on musical theatre; write a 'statement of purpose' which has to talk about why they are applying and include 3 original ideas for musicals; provide a professional resume and a digital portfolio; complete an exercise of writing in response to a prompt; and undergo an interview. The process might have changed somewhat since Minkowski would have been applying (which, if it was soon after she finished college, might have been around the early 2000s) or it might be different in Wolf 359's alternate universe, but I think we can safely assume that applying to this course was a serious undertaking that required an intense amount of commitment and work. 

Applying to a course like that isn't something you do half-heartedly or on a whim. You couldn't apply to this course if you hadn't done a fair amount of musical theatre writing already. (The course requires applicants to choose to apply as bookwriters, lyricists, or composers, but I'm not going to make a guess here as to which of these Minkowski went for.) The fact that Minkowski wanted to study this course suggests that she was seriously considering trying to make a career out of musical theatre writing. In Once In A Lifetime, she tells Cutter that commanding a space station has always been her dream job, but we've got evidence here that it wasn't her only dream job. There's something kind of funny and kind of sad about the idea that writing musicals was her back-up / fall-back career path. She does not like to make life easy for herself.

The revelation 

This information is revealed against Minkowski's will. It's not something she wanted people to find out, and she isn't happy about them knowing:

JACOBI: "Dear Renée, thank you for your interest in the Tisch Graduate Musical Theater Writing Program..." MINKOWSKI: Oh, come on!  JACOBI: (pressing on) "We are sorry to say, we will not be able to offer you a spot in this year's blah blah blah." Oh this is too good. You wanted to write showtunes?  MINKOWSKI: Number one? Shut up. Number two, why are my personal records on there?! [...] How is it in any way relevant?! JACOBI: Oh, I think it's very relevant. I mean, if you're sending someone to pilot ships in deep space, you want to make sure that they can, you know... paint with all the colors of the wind.  Jacobi CRACKS UP - and, although to a lesser degree, so does Lovelace. Minkowski looks at her: really?  LOVELACE: Sorry, Minkowski. It's... it's a little funny.  MINKOWKSI: No, it isn't!

Minkowski seems defensive and embarrassed here. She obviously doesn't trust everyone there with this revelation (Jacobi, Maxwell, Lovelace, and Hera are all present). She considers this information to be "personal" and irrelevant and not even "a little funny". She's used to reactions like Jacobi's (and to a lesser extent Lovelace's); in Ep41 Memoria, she says "most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" (see below for more thoughts about this quote). But the fact that these mocking reactions are expected doesn't mean that they don't bother her. She wants so badly to be taken seriously and, in this scene, her interest in musical theatre seems to be incompatible with that. Jacobi reacts the way that he does because of the idea that I've already expressed, that a passion for musical theatre does not fit with the serious authoritative image that Minkowski has often presented. It's not the typical hobby of a soldier, especially not a Commander.

To me, the way Lovelace laughs suggests that she might not have previously known about Minkowski's love of musicals, or at least perhaps not the full extent of it. At any rate, it's definitely news to Jacobi. And Minkowski clearly hasn't talked about it enough for it not to feel like a big reveal for her.

The rejection 

It's notable that this reveal is not just that she wanted to write for the stage, but also that she failed to get into a course that might have helped her work towards that goal. This of course compounds Minkowski's discomfort at having this information revealed. Not only did she want to write showtunes, but she encountered rejection in her attempts to do so. This detail implies that perhaps it wasn't just the appeal of her spacefaring dream that stopped her going down a theatrical career path. 

I'm about to move more into headcanon territory rather than just straightforward analysis, but I personally believe that, while Minkowski auditioned for a lot of musicals (particularly as a child / young person), she was never cast as the main role. She seems embarrassed about her interest in musical theatre in a way that (at least judging by people I've encountered) people who were always the lead in their school / college productions don't tend to be. 

We don't have much evidence about her actual level of singing/acting ability, given that she is inebriated during the only time we hear her sing in the podcast. However, it resonates with other aspects of her characterisation to imagine that Minkowski was generally good enough to get an ensemble part but never quite good enough to be cast as a main part. I think she might see only ever being cast as part of the ensemble, and failing to get into the Tisch Musical Theatre Writing programme, as slightly more down-to-earth examples of the same pattern as her repeated rejections from NASA. She is desperate to prove herself. She is "someone who very much wants to matter. To do something important." When she casts herself as almost every part in Pirates of Penzance, she is finally taking the opportunity to be a main character, an opportunity which I imagine had been denied to her over and over in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

"It's just from a play I saw once": Episode 41 (Memoria)

The next scene I want to talk about is from a memory of Hera's, which took place on Day 57 of the Hephaestus mission and in which Minkowski appears to be talking about the Stephen Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George:

MINKOWSKI: Oh, it's just from a play I saw once. It doesn't matter. (BEAT) The guy who sings it is this famous French painter. And his entire life is kinda falling apart. But he can always turn what's happening around him into these beautiful paintings.  HERA: And? MINKOWSKI: And... That's, I don't know. Reassuring, maybe? (BEAT) I don't know why I'm going on about this. You don't care.  HERA: I think it's interesting.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah? Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals.  HERA: I don't see what's funny about it.  MINKOWSKI: Well, thank you Hera, but you're not exactly... you know.  HERA: I'm not... what? 

There's a couple of different things I want to pick out from this exchange. Firstly, the line "Most people think it's hilarious that I like musicals" makes me sad. I don't think she's talking about people on the Hephaestus there. Judging by the quote I talked about from Bach to the Future, Eiffel definitely wouldn't have registered Minkowski's love of musicals at this stage, and I doubt Hilbert cares at all about the hobbies of his fellow crew members. So Minkowski is talking about experiences that she's had on Earth, of people mocking her interest in musicals and thinking it doesn't fit with who she is. You can hear the impact of those experiences in Minkowski's reluctance to elaborate, in the way she says that something she obviously cares about doesn't matter, in her assumption that Hera doesn't care.

Secondly, this scene is a complicated one for Minkowski and Hera's relationship. On the one hand, Minkowski freely talks to Hera about something she's passionate about, and Hera listens and expresses interest. Hera validates Minkowski's interest in musical theatre without making a thing of it being weird and Minkowski thanks her. Again, it’s shown as an interest they could could potentially share.

But on the other hand, it seems like part of the reason Minkowski feels able to open up to Hera is because at this point Minkowski doesn't see opening up to Hera as fully equivalent to opening up to a fellow human. She doesn't just accept Hera not making fun of her interest; instead it seems Minkowski is about to imply that this lack of judgment indicates Hera's difference from humans (although she does have the decency not to say it outright). Minkowski's expectation of judgment from others contributes to her saying something very hurtful to Hera here. (This kind of potential consequence of negative self-attitude is explored a lot with Eiffel, so it's interesting that Minkowski can sometimes have a similar issue.)

Minkowski and Hera's conversation is interrupted when:

The DOOR OPENS.  EIFFEL: Hey, Minkowski, we've - What are you guys talking about?  MINKOWSKI: We were just discussing how I'm going to take away your hot water privileges if you don't reset the long-range scan.

Eiffel can obviously tell that he's walked in on a conversation that is about something other than work, or he wouldn't have asked. But Minkowski actively chooses not to tell him that she was talking to Hera about musicals. Perhaps she doesn't know how to open up to a human subordinate about it. Perhaps she doesn't trust him not to make fun of her. Perhaps she just doesn't have any impulse to talk about her interests with him. Either way, if Minkowski's love of musicals is something which reflects a side of her personality outside of her Commander role, this is a moment where she chooses not to take an opportunity to share that side of herself with Eiffel. This reflects the emotional distance between them three months into the mission, which forms a nice contrast with the next couple of quotes I'm going to talk about.

"Composition. Balance. Harmony.": Episode 54 (The Watchtower)

When Eiffel comes directly face to face with alien life, he discovers that music is the human invention that fascinates the Dear Listeners:

EIFFEL: You haven't figured out music?  BOB: ORDER. DESIGN. TENSION. COMPOSITION. BALANCE. HARMONY.  EIFFEL: (low, to himself) Minkowski's been talking about Sondheim again…

I only learned in the course of writing this post that in this moment the Dear Listeners are almost exactly quoting a repeated phrase used throughout Sunday in the Park with George. The titular protagonist lists various combinations of these qualities in multiple songs in reference to his art. In the closing song, the lyrics are "Order. Design. Tension. Composition. Balance. Light. [...] Harmony." It's not only Eiffel's references that the Dear Listeners are incorporating into their speech - they've picked this one up from Minkowski. This also suggests that some element of her appreciation for musicals and the way she talks about them has fed into the Dear Listeners' understanding of the human phenomenon of music. The Dear Listeners aren't just parroting - they understood the quote enough that they left out the word "light", arguably the only quality in that phrase which isn't a big part of music as well as visual art. Eiffel likes music too, but I don't think that this is how he'd talk about his favourite songs.

This is a refrain about finding order and beauty out of the chaos and uncertainty of life, which was also the aspect of Sunday in the Park with George that Minkowski focused on when talking about it in Memoria. It suggests that art/music could be something governed by rules and principles, which is potentially something that appeals both to Minkowski and to the Dear Listeners.

Eiffel's response to this reference is one of those little hints that reminds us that Eiffel and Minkowski have spent a lot of time together and that not all of that time has involved them being at each others' throats or actively in a life-or-death situation. Some of it has just been Minkowski going on about a musical she loves and Eiffel (willingly or not) paying enough attention that he recognises this phrase as a Sondheim quote that Minkowski has talked about. I suppose that this quote might have been in Eiffel's pop-culture-brain anyway, but judging from Eiffel's general tastes and the fact that I don't think Sunday in the Park with George is one of the more commonly known Sondheim musicals among non-musical fans, it seems more likely that this quote is something he only knows because Minkowski has talked about it. 

Eiffel sounds exasperated at the mention, like he's heard Minkowski talk about Sondheim far too much. But I'd argue that this still says something positive about their relationship, when we contrast it with a couple of other moments I've already mentioned. Firstly, when her previous musical theatre ambitions are revealed to Jacobi, Maxwell, and Lovelace in Need to Know, Minkowski seems embarrassed and defensive. Secondly, in the memory from Memoria, she avoids telling Eiffel that she was talking about this same musical. Yet, by the time The Watchtower takes place, Eiffel is sick of hearing Minkowski talk about Sondheim. She doesn't have the same barriers up in sharing her interests with him, even though he doesn't have the same interests. I think this is a demonstration of how comfortable she feels with him. It's a hint at the kind of easy downtime that they've sometimes shared.

"One day more": Episode 61 (Brave New World)

Eiffel recognises another musical reference of Minkowski’s in the finale. As the crew are preparing for their final confrontation with Cutter and co., Minkowski quotes Les Misérables, mostly to herself - but Eiffel recognises the lyrics and joins in:

EIFFEL: Hey - chin up, soldier. We're almost through. Just one more day, and then we're done.  MINKOWSKI: Yeah, one more day. (more to herself) The time is now, the place is here - one day more.  EIFFEL: - one day more.  They both stop, dead in their tracks. MINKOWSKI: Did you just - ?  EIFFEL: Was that what I - ?  They look at each other: No way. And BURST INTO LAUGHTER.  EIFFEL: Man... this is really it, huh? The end of everything. 

It feels really important that Minkowski and Eiffel share this moment of togetherness before she tries to send him back to Earth and before the rest of the action goes down. I think there’s some nice symbolism about them finding a way to communicate that they both understand. Making references is Eiffel's thing, and musicals are Minkowski's thing, so this is a synthesis of their two approaches. Again, there's a contrast with Minkowski's previous unwillingness to share her musical theatre passions with Eiffel (at least without the mitigating circumstances of a mandatory talent show and some kind of intoxicating substance).

I talked about the significance of the fact that they reference this particular musical in this post from ages ago. I don't think it's too much of a spoiler for Les Misérables to say that the revolution that the song One Day More is building up to does not end well for the revolutionaries. When Eiffel says "Just one more day, and then we're done", it encompasses both the possibility that the crew will escape to travel back to Earth and the possibility that they will all die. Minkowski's reference to a famously tragic musical suggests that it's the latter possibility that's at the forefront of her mind (right before she tries to send Eiffel away from the danger). But Les Misérables is also a story about people standing together in solidarity against powerful oppressive forces, which gives particular resonance to the way that this reference brings Eiffel and Minkowski together in a moment of being completely on the same wavelength as they prepare to fight Cutter and Pryce's plan.

When they laugh here, it's not about the 'hilariousness' of Minkowski's interest in musicals, it's about their unexpected unison - Eiffel's recognition of Minkowski's reference and Minkowski's surprise at the fact he joined in. It's a laugh of togetherness, of shared understanding, of friendship. It's a moment of lightness in dark times. And that moment is provided by Minkowski's pop culture interests, not Eiffel's. In spite of all they've been through, she's not lost that part of herself, and in fact, she's more open about it, at least to Eiffel.

I'll finish by highlighting what Eiffel says when he's trying to get into character to impersonate Minkowski so he can turn the Sol around:

EIFFEL: Umm... yes, this is Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski. I'm... uh... well I sure love schedules, and, uh, musicals. And that man, who I married…

I just think this is a nice example of Eiffel not defining Minkowski solely by her professional Commander role. Sure, she likes schedules (probably in a personal as well a professional capacity to be fair), but she also loves musicals, and her husband. It is a fairly reductive overview of her as a person, but it feels reductive in a fond way, like these things are part of Minkowski's brand to Eiffel in a way that he might affectionately tease her about. (Credit to @commsroom for this thought.) His view of Minkowski has come a long way from "our resident Statsi agent" or even just "you must have some hobbies other than making trains run on time." He doesn't see any contradiction or inherent humour in Lieutenant Commander Renée Minkowski's appreciation of musicals.

Conclusion

Minkowski's love of musical theatre is used to deepen her characterisation and is one of the ways in which we gradually begin to see her complexity beyond the strict Commander archetype. The degree to which she is prepared to share this interest at various points is used to illustrate the nature of her relationships with other characters: a general unwillingness to show a less serious side of herself; a complicated potential shared interest with Hera; and the growing understanding between her and Eiffel.

If you read this whole thing, well done / thank you 😄 It wasn't meant to be this long - it just happened… Feel free to share your thoughts!

[quaranmine]

On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.

Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it

[im-an-anthusiast]

Bleed for God 

Grovel at the altar, spill blood 

Pray a little louder, come now 

Make a sacrifice for – the God 

Cry a little louder, come now 

Hand in hand, fingers intertwined 

Pulled away, they await breakage 

A presence, that can’t not be loved 

Pulled away, it can’t not damage 

Grovel at the altar, spill blood 

I’d pray louder if... I knew how  

Make a sacrifice for – my God 

Cry a little louder, come now 

Your lips, such a sweet remedy 

Ripped away, unsealing the wound 

Healed by your voice’s melody 

Ripped away, by its absence doomed 

Grovel at your altar, spill blood 

I’d pray louder if... I knew how 

I sacrifice for – my one God 

Lose myself in sobs, as I bow 

Your touch, my one point, goal in life 

Without it, what’s my direction? 

Your touch, my sacrificial knife 

Without it, I have no option 

Grovel at altars, spilling blood 

Chanting all the right words to say 

Sacrificing for – every God 

Why can’t you love me the same way? 

[thormanick]

All the Kavetham/Haikaveh ideas I don't have capacity to currently write, a very detailed list:

(Which I am humbly placing here before you. Be warned: this post is an incredibly long one!)

1. Fatui!Kaveh AU, where the night before the meeting happens between Kaveh and Alhaitham at the tavern, Kaveh gets a deal from Fatui representatives to work on a huge project in Snezhnaya. Kaveh is sceptical about it, but decides to accept the offer during the dialogue with Alhaitham (seeing himself as a burden, Kaveh decides that he will cause more trouble to Alhaitham than the Fatui, thus he decides to accept their offer even if it seems too good to be true). He tells Alhaitham about his decision to leave for Snezhnaya, and so the two relatively amicably/peacefully part their ways (not without Alhaitham testing Kaveh's reasoning a bit, but Kaveh's resolve remains strong).

And so, Kaveh leaves for Snezhnaya, where he gets to work on several huge projects for the next several years under Sandrone. Most of them are related to construction, engineering and reverse-engineering of Khaenri'ahn and Khaenri'ah-inspired technology, and he gets barely any time to work on his personal projects (he's overworked and exhausted and doesn't get much time and opportunity to be creative; however, the payments are good and he's on his way to getting out of debt, which is practically the sole reason driving him forward. The projects get progressively more complicated and, in a way, unhinged - engineering military equipment is alright, but working with the remains of Khaenri'ahn technology, dead gods and such proves to be... mentally taxing. Everything happens very gradually though, so Kaveh does not immediately notice the true scale of where the Fatui are ready to go to achieve certain goals). Kaveh doesn't really like the work environment of the Fatui, but he does his best (the Harbingers creep him out whenever he gets to see them on a rare official occasion (he might specifically dislike Pantalone because the Harbinger keeps picking at him for his debt, given a chance), but Sandrone's a decent boss who is somewhat encouraging and invested in his work and personal projects. She might be especially interested in Mehrak's existence and operation). Overall, everything goes quite smoothly for Kaveh, even if he doesn't feel quite at home in Snezhnaya and is aware of how dangerous the Fatui can be. He does not consider himself to be paranoid, but the other shoe has to drop at some point - and that happens when the new Acting Grand Sage of Sumeru gets to visit Snezhnaya on a diplomatic mission (aka: Kaveh reconnects with Alhaitham & Co for the first time in what feels like forever). The situation gets complicated when Kaveh realizes that Sandrone encourages the reestablishment of his connection with Alhaitham specifically - and she never encourages an action if she doesn't directly contribute from it.

Feelings, emotions and shenanigans ensue.

TLDR: Kaveh's doing his best despite being restricted in his ways of work, prevented from realizing most of his creative projects and slowly but surely building emotional walls around himself because Fatui and Snezhnaya; Sandrone being a kind of decent boss with sorta good work ethic but horrendous morals who is not exactly a good influence on Kaveh's idealistic tendencies and guilt complex; Fatui being contextually horrifying but kinda normal coworkers if you don't look at them too close; Alhaitham trying his best as a political figure (Nahida help him) while also trying to get Kaveh to return home with him (because he misses him); the main conflict revolving around Kaveh and his life choices with Sandrone and Alhaitham being kind of foils to each other (with Sandrone gradually destroying Kaveh's idealistic morals and playing on his guilt to get the most out of his potential as an innovator, and with Alhaitham actively trying to resolve Kaveh's guilt and show him that, despite their arguments, Kaveh's idealism still has place in the world and can co-exist with other philosophies). There might or might not be some macguffin-esque Deshret relic that both Akademia and Fatui hunt for that eventually brings the whole crew back to Sumeru. Kaveh might or might not get a chance to meet a fragment of Deshret's spirit within the mentioned relic. But there definitely will be a happy end for everyone here (Deshret will make sure of it).

2. Calamity!AU. The new Cataclysm comes, enveloping all Seven Nations, and so Sumeru does its best to survive. The cities are ruined, and the people gather together in random places to survive. Alhaitham gets to live within one of the settlements, established by the Akademiya. While trying to survive the first wave of the new Calamity, he is also looking for Kaveh; after an argument between the two the architect left for an expedition to the Desert, right before the new Calamity began. Unfortunately, the news comes that his group should have been around Tunigi Hollow - one of the spots in Sumeru where the first wave of the new Calamity hit the hardest. There is no concrete information on whether Kaveh's group survived or not. Alhaitham, not loosing hope, does his best to find any information on Kaveh's whereabouts, but due to Sumeru becoming extremely dangerous to traverse and disjointed as a result of the new Calamity, the search stretches out for almost a decade.

One day Alhaitham helps a caravan, traversing the forests to get to one of the settlements, to fight off the monsters. Unexpectedly, Kaveh turns out to be one of the members of the caravan. Their reunion is almost cut short by the caravan's need to keep going, but Alhaitham convinces Kaveh to join him instead. The two return to the new Sumeru city settlement, where Alhaitham lives and works under the watch of Akademiya and Lord Kusanali. It appears that during his years of travels around the destroyed Sumeru Kaveh learned new ways of architectural construction that would be more efficient against the monsters, born by the Calamity. He also seems to behave quite differently, hardened by the experiences of the past years. Alhaitham proposes for Kaveh to stay with him in the city, and Kaveh accepts. The feelings, new routines, dealings with the changed versions of each other and attempts to find new pace of life in the new world ensue.

TLDR: The world might be ending and impossible to live in, but even so each new day is brighter when the person one loves is by their side.

3. Another Cataclysm!AU, where Kaveh and Alhaitham get assigned separate missions in the grander scheme of things created to prevent the coming of a new Calamity. The plan succeeds and the world remains safe, but not without heavy losses: amongst many others, Kaveh does not survive while carrying out his mission.

Decades pass as Alhaitham goes through his grieving process. Eventually, one evening on the anniversary of the Calamity's prevention, Alhaitham wanders to a place he and Kaveh used to visit together. A Ley Line disruption occurs, and he gets to see a glimpse of Kaveh through it. They have a conversation; the Ley Line apparition (a memory of Kaveh) is convinced that Alhaitham is from the future, and so they talk a lot about the Calamity, whether it was prevented, and about each other's futures. Alhaitham can't bring himself to tell Kaveh that he does not survive the Calamity, but he does tell Kaveh that his architectural legacy lives on. Kaveh commends Alhaitham on his achievements (though not an acting grand sage for a very long time, Alhaitham kept playing an important role throughout Sumeru's history, helping to keep it safe).

Eventually, their time runs out. Ley Line disorder starts gradually disappearing. Alhaitham urges Kaveh to be careful and stay safe, knowing that the Calamity (on Kaveh's side) is yet to come. Kaveh laughs and tells him that on his side, Alhaitham just told him the same words after they finished the debriefing session, related to the Calamity. He says that he was feeling very nervous, but that seeing future-Alhaitham made him convinced that they are on the right path.

And so, the Ley Line disorder disappears. Alhaitham spends some more time at the spot before returning home. Despite painful memories having been brought up, his heart feels a bit lighter.

TLDR: closure comes unexpectedly, takes many forms and does not erase the pain in an instant, but, nevertheless, it heals.

4. AU! where Kaveh and Alhaitham are both magical birds that can transform into humans (and half-humans).

They live together in the depths of Sumeru forest - a domain of a long lost God of Wisdom. Kaveh's feathers are rumoured to bring blessings, while Alhaitham's feathers, on the contrary, are said to bring bad luck or even curses. Humans, living at the edge of magical forest, kinda worship them, but also prefer not to interact with them, primarily because Alhaitham is not happy when others trespass on his lands, and because searching for Kaveh is extremely hard (he's often off working on his projects deep within the forest), and the magical forest is very dangerous on its own. So, the humans build their cities outside of the Sumeru forest, and Alhaitham and Kaveh peacefully live together in the depths of it.

Despite Kaveh and Alhaitham living together for a long time, their opinions on humanity are diametrically opposed: Alhaitham barely tolerates humans, finding them to be reckless, meddling, cowardly and deceitful; Kaveh, on the contrary, finds humans to be creative, inspiring, free and beautiful in their own way. Throughout the years, Kaveh manages to build somewhat of an amicable relationship with the humans, living at the edge of the forest: he learns more about their traditions and arts, while the humans receive his guidance and blessings in various matters of living, craftsmanship and arts. Eventually, Kaveh's knowledge and magical powers catch the eye of Lord Sangemah Bay, who resides in and governs one of the bigger settlements at the forest's border. She makes a deal with Kaveh that, despite providing him with valuable (in his eyes) experience of working with humans on some of his grandest architectural projects, costs him a lot - meaning he has to give away lots of his blessed feathers, which makes his remaining magic much weaker (and generally undermines his health for a bit). Alhaitham is not a huge fan of such approach (in his eyes, Kaveh is wasting his powers and time for nothing, endangering himself), and so a conflict between him and Kaveh breaks. As a result, Kaveh flees their home, secluding himself while he's focusing on other projects he finds curious. Kaveh keeps working with humans, and though Alhaitham certainly keeps an eye on Kaveh's wellbeing, he does not make it easy for humans to reach him. So what if there are new random magical seals, obstacles, almost-traps and riddles appearing here and there when people try to get to Kaveh? It's a magical forest, things happen! (Kaveh knows that Alhaitham does this on purpose, and Alhaitham knows that Kaveh knows, and it leads to them indirectly, and then directly bickering and arguing. The magical forest quite possibly grows very tired of them. Their friends Tighnari and Cyno certainly do, but alas.)

The new equilibrium, found by Alhaitham and Kaveh, is challenged once more when Kaveh leaves to the Lord Sangemah Bay's city to direct yet another one of his grand projects. They do not see each other for a long while. Despite all the challenges, Kaveh's relationship with Dori gradually grows stronger - the two value their partnership - and Kaveh ends up making friends amongst humans. However, not everyone is happy about Lord Sangema Bay's growing friendship with the "deity of blessings" personified. As some people come to despise her for her wealth, influence and ever growing power, so do they come to despise the bird of paradise.

When the project is complete, the time for celebration comes. Kaveh gets to attend a feast by Dori's side as a guest of honour, and is invited to stay the night in her palace before returning to the forest. Kaveh agrees: he's been spending all his days and nights at the building site, and resting a night before returning home would be nice. As the night goes on, however, Kaveh begins to feel weary and unwell - the new type of wine he was served did him no good. He excuses himself early for the night and, as soon as he gets to his bed, he's out cold.

After an undetermined amount of time (in what appears to be the middle of the night), Kaveh wakes up because of immense pain in his back.

As he gradually comes to his senses, he has a horrible realization: one of his wings was cut off when he was asleep. Alerting the guards and Dori yields no results: the intruder escaped, presumably with Kaveh's wing, and there are no traces of them left. While Kaveh gets immediately attended to, he goes in shock and, eventually, loses consciousness.

When the messengers form the city arrive to the forest, Alhaitham receives them reluctantly at first, but as soon as he hears of what happened, he rushes to the city. He ends up taking Kaveh back to the forest, hoping that its healing magic will help restore his wing. However, nothing seems to work: neither spells, nor the powers of nature, not even Tighnari's medicine. Though the wound is slowly healing, Kaveh remains unconscious for days. To get more information on what happened, Alhaitham returns to the city to question Dori together with Cyno (who's also to continue the investigation within the city once Alhaitham returns home), while Tighnari stays with Kaveh.

Though the questioning concludes that Dori knows nothing and is willing to assist in the search of the perpetrator, Cyno concludes that she was not thorough enough in ensuring Kaveh's safety and overall security of the celebration in general, revealing that Dori recklessly cut corners here and there. Furious, Alhaitham leaves Dori his cursed feather, giving her an ultimatum: she has to find the perpetrator and give them to Alhaitham to deal the final punishment. Until then, her city is doomed to slowly crumble into decay and oblivion. Dori accepts the deal.

Alhaitham returns to the forest to look after Kaveh, while Cyno remains in the city to continue the search. When Alhaitham comes back, Kaveh is finally awake. However, he remains extremely closed-off, practically a shadow of himself. The recovery process is slow and challenging, but Alhaitham does his best to support Kaveh in all ways that matter. Kaveh struggles with healing: the loss of a wing affected not only his body, but also his mental state and magic. He cannot transform, he can barely use any of his magical skills, and he cannot fly anymore, which hurts him most of all. It takes a while for Kaveh to get on his feet (quite literally), even longer to finally leave his room. He also feels guilty for being in Alhaitham's care, because he remembers all of the Alhaitham warnings about the humans he didn't listen to, and so lots of internal conflict ensues.

Meanwhile Alhaitham does all he can to try and navigate the situation. He looks after Kaveh's healing process; brings back his blueprints and equipment from Kaveh's place so that he has enough to work with if he wishes; he also (to the best of his ability) remodels their home to make it more accessible to Kaveh. Given that their natural method of moving around their house was flying (whether in form of birds of half-humans), Alhaitham now implements more adjustments for walking or climbing. (When Kaveh feels good enough to leave his room, he's amazed by what Alhaitham managed to achieve. He also helps fix some of the constructions, given he's the one with the experience in architecture.) Alhaitham and Kaveh grow closer, slowly unpacking and mending their relationship, turning it into something new and beautiful.

At the same time, Alhaitham continues to watch the forest borders - to make sure that no intruders interrupt Kaveh's recovery and their peaceful life together. One day he notices an interesting sight: a small, but beautiful shrine appeared right by the forest. He decides to investigate; upon approaching the shrine, he meets Nilou (whom he saw in the palace when he visited Dori). She explains to him that, after he and Kaveh left the city, a group of people decided to organize a shrine, dedicated to Kaveh, to pray for his recovery. Nilou explains that in their eyes it's the least they can offer for all the help that their city received in the past and as amends for the pain they have caused. Alhaitham warns her not to get any closer to the forest, but the action of people leaves a lasting impression on him.

Meanwhile, Cyno's investigation progresses. Cyno writes to Alhaitham that together with Dori they managed to find and capture the perpetrator. Questioning reveals no useful information, but Cyno suspects that there might be more to the attack on Kaveh than they anticipated. To uphold his end of the deal Alhaitham goes to the city to deliver the punishment to the attacker and to undo the curse he put on Dori's city. Before he leaves, Kaveh, scared of what might happen to Alhaitham, sews into his cloak a blessed feather for protection (because Alhaitham wouldn't accept it outright). While Alhaitham is away, Kaveh begins working on a new project: a mechanical wing.

When Alhaitham gets to the city, he is led to the cell where the attacker is being held. Cyno and Dori are by his side for the final questioning. The man - a mere mortal (with strange red-ish eyes), one of Dori's citizens - keeps talking in circles, making less and less sense with each new word. Alhaitham lets Cyno and Dori go before rendering the punishment. When the curse (one of Alhaitham's darkest yet) is finally prepared, suddenly, the tables are turned. The perpetrator attacks Alhaitham, but his movements seem unnatural, almost like those of a puppet. Alhaitham realizes, that the man is being controlled by someone with prowess for strong, incredibly dark magic that seems similar to that of the Desert. The strange puppet manages to overpower Alhaitham in a fight, but cannot harm him (due to the protection from Kaveh's feather). The perpetrator manages to escape, taking with him Alhaitham's cursed feather (they seemed to be pleased to receive it. Alhaitham fears to think what they will use it for).

Dori and Cyno pick up the investigation, with Cyno going straight to the Desert. Dori begins reinforcing the city (her people discover that Alhaithams curse (now lifted) awakened Miasma deep under the ground. The Miasma begins to slowly spread, seemingly in the direction of the Sumeru Forest). Cyno sends back a message, confirming that strong and dark magic seems to be gathering within the Desert, possibly for the purpose of destroying the magical forest.

Alhaitham manages to get back to Kaveh and tell him of what happened in the city. In order to be able to protect the forest together with Alhaitham, Kaveh doubles down on his efforts to create a mechanical working wing. Everything works, besides the golden feathers - they need to be blessed in order to allow the mechanism to work as intended, but Kaveh does not have enough power for it. Alhaitham takes a risk and brings the feathers to the shrine, created by Nilou and other humans, so that they could bless them for Kaveh. (They are short of one feather eventually, and Alhaitham gives Kaveh one of his own, his first blessed feather, to complete the wing.)

TLDR: Kaveh works on restoring his wing and faith in himself and humanity; Alhaitham learns that humanity is not always evil. Dori and Cyno discover that the escaped perpetrator (caugh controlled by Dottore caugh) used Kaveh to get to Alhaitham to gain his cursed feather for completing some sort of ancient ritual to unseal the forbidden knowledge magic deep within the Desert in roder to unleash it on the magical forest, slumbering God of Wisdom and human cities. Kaveh learns to curse his feathers (while opposing Dottore in a final fight), and Alhaitham learns to bless his. Humans and Sumeru Forest continue to coexist peacefully. Alhaitham and Kaveh live together happily ever after.

5. Pacific Rim!AU, where Kaveh and Alhaitham used to be pilots of a Jaeger, but during one of their battles they suffered too much damage. In order to save Alhaitham and what remains of their Jaeger, Kaveh takes most of the damage by severing already unstable connection between Alhaitham and Jaeger's system. Both barely survive the encounter, but meanwhile Alhaitham manages to recover fast, the damage Kaveh has taken leaves him in a critical condition, eventually resulting in him being unable to ever pilot a Jaeger ever again (and putting many new restraints on his usual daily life).

As soon as Kaveh comes to his senses, the two have a huge fight about Kaveh's rash decision, and eventually break off their friendship. They don't see each other for a long, long time.

As the time goes on, Kaveh learns how to live with the changes that his body sustained with the help of his service dog Mehrak. Eventually he takes on a job at one of the Jaeger construction facilities (together with his friend Tighnari), studying Kaiju and creating new Jaeger modifications - though no Kaiju has been seen in the past several years, the world is still afraid of their return.

When the suspicion of the new Kaiju appearance arises, new pilot recruits and ex-pilots are summoned to the facility. There, Kaveh meets Alhaitham for the first time in years. After their fallout, Alahitham resigned from piloting Jaegers, yet now he had no choice but to return to train new recruits (and possibly resume his role of a Jaeger pilot). Now once again the two have to work together as a part of a team in face of approaching danger, trying to resolve their past conflicts and overcome their fears and insecurities along the way (when deep down they simply want to keep each other safe).

TLDR: Kaveh & service animal Mehrak is a neat concept I'd love to see more of, just as a concept in general. I think this one could be an interesting story idea centered mostly around Kaveh's day to day life. Additionally, Alhaitham who used to be only drift compatible with Kaveh but now suddenly discovers he's drift compatible with Cyno. I need more Cyno & Alhaitham camaraderie I think it would do them lots of good (at least in this specific AU setting lol).

6. Oxenfree!AU where Kaveh and Alhaitham are two ex-best friends turned reluctant coworkers (photo-journalist and journalist respectively) working on writing a piece about the disappearances of a group of teenagers that happened at the Edwards Island several years prior (timeline somewhere between the first and the second games). The radio shenanigans ensue, making the two face their past, possible futures and, most importantly, their present. (In Oxenfree tuning into certain radio sequences can temporarily mess up time-space shenanigans, just fyi).

TLDR: I just think that this setting could facilitate some character exploration that would be very fun.

7. Modern MermanKaveh!AU, post-fallout, where it's a little bit more about haunting Alhaitham (and the narrative), than being a merman. Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, Kaveh drowns one day, trying to save someone from the water. Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, he doesn't really die, being stuck in between (existence and death, normal life and the necessity to live in water). Kaveh manages, for quite a while even!

But of course Alhaitham has to come back and turn his world upside down once again.

TLDR: can you tell Alhaitham's quote about drowning stuck with me huh (and I made it literal lol). On a serious note... Idk, vibes??? I want to see the "stuck in the middle" Kaveh, whatever that entails. Some existential explorations. And the development of his relationship with Alhaitham, of course. // Kaveh is a merman unable to fully live the life he used to have, and Alhaitham doesn't know that he survived (for a while), alternatively "let me help to save you from metaphorical and literal drowning" Alhaitham and "I learned to live like this, this is what my norm now looks like" Kaveh.

8. Another Modern MermanKaveh!AU/DrownedGhostKaveh!AU, because I apparently have no self-control (I feel like I should also clarify that whenever I mention a mermaid, I think of them more as of ghosts of drowned people and less as mermaids-mermaids, the half-human half-marine creature ones). This idea was initially prepared for chili/zhongchi but it's been sooooooooooooooooooo long and I still haven't done anything substantial for it so I'm borrowing it from myself for myself and tweaking it for kavetham because I figured it could fit them. So here it goes,

Alhaitham is a scientist/marine biologist that moves from the city to a much smaller port town, getting himself a place in a local partially repurposed lighthouse. Kaveh is a merman, who has been dead for a long while and who's been living within local waters ever since he drowned. Alhaitham leads a very isolated life, going through a rather rough patch emotionally (maybe a badly ended past relationship and relocation from an established group of friends to a remote place brought up past negative emotions related to loss that were bottled up for a while. who knows, not me). Anyways, Alhaitham's not doing too well, but seaside walks help him unwind, even if for a short periods of time. During one of such walks, he finds an old pendant washed ashore. He picks up his find, hoping to do some research on it outside of his work time (because research is his fun-time).

He expects this to be a brief excursion into local history. He does not expect to become haunted by the ghost of a man to whom this pendant belonged to way back when.

Kaveh, in turn, is extremely excited to finally, finally be able to get out of the sea to the surface. He intends to stay ashore as long as possible and, well, if he just so gets to amuse himself by haunting a grumpy marine biologist that refuses to believe in merpeople, ghosts of drowned and other supernatural occurences - who's he to say no?

TLDR: this AU can go two ways (in my eyes): the happy ending way and probably more gothic-horror-story-esque ending. So, Alahitham is cursed to be haunted by Kaveh: for a while he's the only one who can see him, with Kaveh being something akin to a ghost. However, the longer Kaveh haunts Alhaitham, the more human he becomes (others can see him, he cannot phase through walls anymore, etc.). The curse in itself goes something like this: the cursed thing, after being picked up/taken in, cannot be thrown away and will always come back. The ghost, tied to the haunted thing, shall haunt whoever picks the cursed thing (the thing should be tied to the ghost, but may not necessarily belong to them) and drain their life energy. The ghost can become free and human again if the haunting goes long enough and they kill the human who picked the cursed object in the end during a very specific time that doesn't occur too often (proverbial blue moon, idk). If they don't kill the human and decide to let them go, then the ghost will seize to exist and the human will regain their strength. (An alternative option to the ghost dying for a less angsty au: the ghost voluntarily takes back the cursed object and returns to the place where they died, but then they will never be able to haunt anyone ever again. The effect of the curse on the haunted remain, but much weaker).

In this case, let's say Kaveh and Alhaitham stay by each other's side from half a year to a year, idk. They grow closer, eventually becoming friends and maybe more (the usual kavetham shenanigans Kaveh falls first but Alhaitham falls harder). Alhaitham's mental state gradually improves, yet overall he becomes weaker because of the curse (to the point that it becomes a serious concern), which Kaveh blames himself for. The appointed time approaches (both Kaveh and Alhaitham are in on the details of the curse), and Kaveh, seeing it as an opportunity to set Alhaitham free, manages to separate himself from Alhaitham. Kaveh is ready to return to the sea/merge with it (ah yes the classic Little Mermaid influence does anybody feel it lol). However, Alhaitham sees through his plan and arrives just in time to stop him. They have a confrontation. Eventually, they manage to lift the curse (as you can see I have not figured out exactly how this can happen but! it definitely can!) with Kaveh becoming human again and Alhaitham regaining his health. The two continue to live together happily ever after.

The other scenario is practically the same, but it's more ghothic? and abstract (and probably more suitable for the og pairing it was made for, but i'll throw it in anyways). I have not engaged with gothic literature much and thus don't have much experience in how it works/how to write it, but the idea is that Kaveh is more of a projection of Alhaitham's grief than a ghost fo a drowned person (in other words, he's definitely a ghost, but his presence is also much more symbolical). The story follows quite similar beats, except the setting of the curse is a bit different: it's more of a "kill first or be killed" thingy with a deadline. Kaveh earnestly tries to drown Alhaitham at first through various means, but the more time they spend together, the more Kaveh sees of Alhaitham's life and pain and feels sympathetic for him. Despite the curse, Kaveh tires to help Alhaitham in various ways; and it works! Alhaitham gradually begins to feel better; the two grow closer to each other (more in a platonic way).

So now the precedent is that though Alhaitham's overall doing better, the curse still preys on him, hindering his life in various ways that become more and more serious/dangerous (the curse's deadline approaches, and it tries to survive the best way it can through Kaveh's influence on Alhaitham). Eventually, Kaveh lets Alhaitham go, merging with the sea (once again, yes, it was partially inspired by the Little Mermaid). Alhaitham realizes what happened and tries to look for Kaveh, but it is in vain.

Eventually, life goes on.

Bonus Elden Ring AU (because guess who suddenly went on a lore video watching spree): Kaveh is a craftsman and one of the inhabitants of Castle Morne who managed to escape before it was overrun by Misbegotten. He's a follower of St. Trina and Miquella (he doesn't follow Miquella at first, but slowly he comes to suspect that the two are one and the same). After escaping from Castle Morne, he finds his way to Jarburg, where he is welcomed to stay and be the new Potentate.

Alhaitham is from a distant branch of Carian royal family and a scholar at the Academy of Raya Lucaria. Quite possibly explored an area of studies similar to Sellen's. Eventually he separates himself from both Academy and his family, becoming a wandering scholar.

The two meet somewhere nearby Jarburg when Kaveh gets ambushed by the same people who were trying to get to Alhaitham. The two fight them off. Kaveh, trying to help injured Alhaitham, leads him to Jarburg. The two continue living together there ever since (not without hiccups, but they're doing their best).

TLDR: this one is short and very simple because I just started diving into the Elden Ring's lore, but I just. Really wanted to make some AU for them. I also desperately wanted it to be peaceful and happy one despite it being a seeming impossibility for anything dark souls/elden ring related, but one can dream. If I were to make this one darker I'd probably expand on the duality of their two characters here, and how Alhaitham probably used to conjure spells on humans (with gaining knowledge being his sole life purpose for a long time) and has challenges with comprehending the world outside of a framework of pure logic, and how Kaveh gets an increasing tendency of escaping to the dream world/wherever Miquella is in order to alleviate his mental turmoil (maybe he witnessed too much during his escape from the Castle), and how the two have opposing perspectives on the idea of worshipping gods, and- like, there's a lot that can be done. But I also just really really really want them to simply be happy together in a jar village, leading a peaceful life.

That's it for now! Thank you for reading all of this, I can't commend your patience enough if you got to the end of this list!!!✨🎉✨

Maybe in the future I will unpack some of these aus. who knows.