#it’s bare bones but the base concept i have feels special to me

[frothingatthemaw]

been oc-ing the fuck out of vessel….. i have written some Thoughts about him while i’ve been away :3 if anyone wants to see them, i can post em!!

[silli---lilli]

Soft.

Soap and Ghost hadn't quite been flirting, but the tension was there. Simon had been standing particularly close to the Sergeant, had been particularly protective of him.

Soap noticed. Soap let it happen. He didn't need the special treatment or extra attention, but he recognized that it wasn't that. Not really. Ghost was a proven military leader, he didn't play favorites. This was something different.

Time went on. Missions were long and filthy and exhausting. Ghost had little time to think about Soap, but he did. In every silent moment. He truly think he deserved the time of day from a man like that. He deserved his respect on the battlefield, sure. Their age and rank proved it. But softened eyes in the quiet and timid personal conversations were simple fantasies he barely allowed himself.

So he was careful when Soap came to him first, careful not to reveal his true feelings or how weak of a man he could be in a position like that. Clean and bandaged, finally afforded some time to rest in a quiet base. Not home, not done, but not in danger.

It started in the showers. Not touching except for their eyes in glances as they passed each other. They started modest and accidental and became curious. Then meaningful. Then Simon had pretended he imagined the tension and went back to his dark room alone. But Johnny was there, then. He'd come and knocked, his bare feet in the hall not unfamiliar to him. Terrifying, though.

"Yes, Johnny." Simon barely cracked the door.

"Let me in." Johnny said, questioning. Not pushing. It wouldn't have mattered. Just the concept that he had given Simon a second thought at all made him embarrassingly desperate.

He didn't know what to say once Johnny was there in the room, but that didn't deter the younger man.

"I wanted to see you." Johnny seemed unsure about the confession but he had no need to.

"Why?" He shrugged perfect shoulders.

"Not sure, if I'm honest."

Simon studied him. He should tell him to leave. Save them both the embarrassment. Instead, he stepped closer to him.

"Why, Johnny?" Simon raised his hand like he might touch him. Johnny caught it.

"No reason, Simon. I just wanted to see you." He kept a hold of Simon's hand and closed the space between them. "Is that alright?"

Simon nodded. "Yes." It was all he could bring himself to say.

He pulled his hand free and laid it on the smaller man's shoulder, close to his neck. Johnny took it as an invitation, kissing his unusually bare face. Simon letting him, before kissing him back. Testing the waters. He stood still a moment, Johnny was much softer and warmer than he had imagined.

He turned and pushed him backward onto the bed. Johnny grinned as he pulled his shirt off over his head. "Thank heaven I was right about this. I've been thinking about it."

Simon marveled at him, sure the wrong move would make him leave. "I think about you too much."

"Hmm." Johnny laid back and let Simon straddle him, running rough hands along his neck and collar bone. "Tell me what you think about."

Simon's logical mind didn't flirt, it spilled the truth. "Taking a walk without getting shot at. Having a drink with you somewhere nice." His hand trailed down the center of Johnny's chest to his stomach. "Not fighting. Just living."

Johnny watched him closely. Simon stilled, and Johnny gripped him by the wrist, moving his hand lower so he could feel how hard he was through the soft pants he wore.

As Simon leaned forward to place his lips against Johnny's neck, he wrapped him in his other arm, holding him close. "What about this? Did you imagine this?"

He slowly moved so their hips were pressed tight against each other. He was gentle, his hands easy. Simon was still unsure, he guessed they both were. He lingered against Johnny's neck, breathing in the smell of his clean skin and the steady, healthy beat of his heart.

"No, Johnny. I couldn't have imagined this."

[cryptidjudgesthings]

As I much as I'm glad Ranboo is changing for the better persona wise his brand is. All over the place and unapologetically generic especially by vtuber standards. The half and half enderman is far more unique and recognizable and there's still a huge chunk of his fan base not aware of the change. Apparently.

There is nothing wrong with his brand aesthetic they have now. But I can name two over people from the DSMP with that that fit that aesthetic, and another origins smp member who had that same away with similar colors. It's not unique and I've seen this brand aesthetic over and over and over again. It's nothing special and the quirky add ones don't. Change that. Doesn't add shit.

It's. Just. Basic. It doesn't tell shit about them beyond they again have mainstream taste by v tuber standards.

Character design, especially vtuber character design visually should tell what up with a character. His. Doesn't. Pastel twink who looks likes they're from boyfriends. That's it. It doesn't give digital as much as it give... Twinky race car driver. Which. Isn't what he's going for. At all. But it comes across that way.

I like them as a person and I'm proud of them coming out and trying to be more of themselves than a people pleaser and a uh door mat. But in all honesty I don't think they've changed much beyond they are visually trying to get away from Minecraft and C!Ranboo as much as possible.

If I were to steal their body one of the first things I'd do I iron out the wrinkles in their aesthetic and actually work to have coherent aesthetic instead of nonsense that only happened to be the same colors I like and find new focal points to work with. The jacket is cool, but the patches themselves don't really tell much of anything of who they are as person and or actually clash with the starry space aesthetic minus the colors. They random and more effort could have gone in to make them aesthetically match.

I think one thing they could have done since they want to be so hell bent on space, horror and crowns is I don't know... Actually keep the enderman aesthetic and "reclaim" Ranboo for himself, turn him into a space cryptid prince with no ties to the dsmp or the concept of "enderman". Which is easy, considering enderman have no actual canonically appearance between tall block person.

It's not hard to have your cake and eat it too, I just feel Ranboo barely scratching the surface and still hasn't changed: he's playing it safe when there's SO much more he could be doing with the key words "cryptid, space, horror, crown" which summarizes his brand pretty well.

Half tempted to Steal c!Ranboo and "fix" him to demonstrate. Just a little kidnapping of an OC to just. Give him a make over. Fashion upgrade. Nothing malicious. But like. Eh.

ALSO COSMIC GORE IS A THING???? you don't have to go extreme, but like bones are very common, and with some tweaks some like chrome bone items could be amazing????????? Hello? I just. Need to desect and rebuild his brand. It's bugging me. I like the colors and the ideas but he's under utilizing all of them and it's ANNOYING.

Edit: fixed some crucial spelling errorb

Ranboo be like yeah I have a very distinct brand with a recognizable minecraft skin. Better change that to a generic pastel twink and lose all individuality

[um-prompts]

62 writing prompts based on my songfic playlist!

enjoy!

Featured: kill the lights set it off • choke i don't know how but they found me • cannibal tally hall • feel better penelope scott • ramblings of a lunatic bears in trees • idk if i'm a boy blue foster • asthma attack noahfinnce

"I'm afraid the spotlight dried you up."

"You make me sick with all the lies that you spill."

"Not even death could stand in the way."

"You never even tried in the first place."

"kill the lights, kill the actor, kill the actress."

"I'll break your pretty face."

"Oh, you clever little things."

"What a precious basket case."

"If I could burn this town, I wouldn't hesitate."

"Bite your tongue and choke yourself to sleep."

"You get everything you want."

"Money always talks to the idiot savants."

"I am the willing victim of a cannibal."

"She rips out my bones just like I'm an animal."

"When I'm feeling like my blood is drained, she calls it a game."

"The wound she leaves is unmistakable."

"I'm not the only one she has come to see."

"They could be the ones to make her believe."

"She's a phantom."

"Please, won't you tear me open wide?"

"I don't wanna feel better."

"No one's ever gonna love me like that again."

"I don't wanna get over you."

"I'd give anything to miss you again."

"I know I'll never know just what to say."

"I'm a sad girl in a dorm room."

"Someone loved me, someone fucking loved me."

"I'd give my life to have a room that feels that small."

"I had a right to die, a right to live, a right to choose, too."

"Can you fucking imagine?"

"I wanna rip the stars to shreds."

"I'm a healthy baby girl who traded sunshine for disease."

"I loved someone I barely knew."

"Lost my sense of home from the words that I've said."

"Maybe I'll just descend to dirt."

"Would anyone listen to this, the ramblings of a lunatic?"

"My mind does play an awful trick."

"I'm running from my emptiness."

"My brain is tired, my stomach's sick."

"Why has constructing sentences become like pulling teeth?"

"Is this carcass even me?"

"Is this catharsis, therapeutic plunge to darkness or elaborating upon my mediocrity?"

"Maybe this is a result of me finally accepting that I'll be alone forever."

"I've never felt more comfortable in the concept of things ending."

"Maybe this writer's block that I've been perceiving is to stop me diving deeply into my internal being."

"All my friends are dying, some faster than the others."

"I'm trying to distract myself from the fears that I've discovered."

"I don't know if I'm a boy."

"I know I wanna be called pretty."

"I am something in the middle."

"I don't know if I'm a reject."

"I know that I've been breathing different when I'm wearing makeup."

"Those stupid words served to protect me."

"I cannot figure out these stupid words."

"Now I know that I'm a reject, my own special kind of loser."

"I am the physical embodiment of everything I never wanted to be."

"I am the prime example of indecision."

"What am I supposed to do when I'm so see-through?"

"I had never thought that life would be like this."

"If living was the equivalent of breathing then maybe I should prepare myself for another asthma attack."

"You think I know myself, well you'd be mostly wrong."

"If lying was a crime then I'd be doing time."

[stormvanari]

https://at.tumblr.com/stormvanari/some-oc-questions/a8io9m1wojtc

11, 14, 21, 30, and 50.

Sorry for the long wait—!:

11) “Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a ‘sunshine’?”

Loopy Crulle: WAY TOO EFFIN’ BRIGHT. Sure the NBI!Abomination Head has family issues, but she masks that pain with humor and entertainment. This is also evident when she is involved in the topic regarding the Day of Unity, cause she wants to cheer everyone up once she took the Abomination Council Chair. The NBI Healing Head is kinda irritated towards Loopy’s cheerful persona.

14) “Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory”

Darian Vernworth: He exaggerates this as “tragic,” but tbh he has a point: being part of the Basilisk experiments was a terrible memory for him. He was the one that led the Basilisks to escape the Emperor’s clutches, and it was successful. However, Darian was caught by Coven members and he ordered the rest of the basilisks to scramble for the exit together, while he pushed back the Coven by himself. But he lost his tail to Warden Wrath in the fight. The worse part is that Darian tried to get his brother, Adrian Graye (he was part of the experiments in my version for his story), but Belos appearing to round up the runaway basilisks forced Darian to flee and hide for years. He feels guilty for leaving his brother behind.

21) “Your most artistic OC”

Cherry Zitrino: While I will say that Darian and Loopy have creative talent, I want to direct my attention to Cherry (even though I have yet to reveal their appearance) for this question. As a cook, they have a “special ingredient” when it comes to making edibles, including potions: thermokinetic spit that also generates different effects, like rashes (they can be creative, so they can cause a sizzling kind). Cherry is a former Coven Scout who once worked on shifts in the cafeteria. They would often encounter bad colleagues, especially Coven Heads Terra and Adrian. Cherry doesn’t directly retaliate back, but they will spit on their colleagues’ edibles without any of them looking at the future council witch. Otherwise, their “The Bar Slinger” name will be unleashed. Off the question, but Cherry’s character is planned to be a mix of Demoman (TF2) and Popeye the Sailorman.

30) “Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection?”

Ripley Wolsteen: Van kept stealing her stuffed animals, so she stored them away somewhere hidden in her house where the palisman can’t snatch them. Ok, well, Ripley does take one when she and Van go to work for the latter’s comfort. Also, kinda unrelated to the question, but the Beast-Keeper does like soft materials, such as fur.

50) “Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you want”

The Titan’s Council are associated with the Turncloak-and-Dagger (TAD) AU. Basically, they work for Belos and shit goes down from there. This includes secret rebel activity.

Loopy’s surname is named after a French donut called a “cruller.” Her aunt’s surname is also named after a similar donut: a “Spritzkuchen.”

Ripley is named after a franchise called “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not!”

Yurei is inspired by tsukumogami.

Absolutely cursed concept art for when I was figuring out Darian’s new hairdo a long time ago. I used Adrian as a base to see how it looks:

Not TOH-related: I have a whole new land I created for the Marioverse. It’s called the Primus Empire, and its environment is inspired by the early 20th century, mainly the 20s to 30s. It’s an industrial superpower with a very fucked up government. I have a blog dedicated to that, @carrotdetective, but it’s kinda bare as bones atm, due to me developing deep into the characters more for it. BUT—since I’ve been dumping this info onto a friend, I can summarize the story behind it:

So, the Primus Empire is the setting of Detective Dynoraptor, a 3-Act story inspired by both Darkwing Duck (series) and RWBY for the Marioverse. You got The Sharpeye, a vigilant detective agency on a mission to take down two crime syndicates, the Scarlet Bandits and Cerulean Thieves, warring with each other across two split regions of the empire: Rache and Venari. While investigating the disappearance of another detective agency (including other mysteries), The Sharpeye gather clues that connect to a cold case.

[ghost-in-the-hella]

Could I get "39. holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition", Chasemarsh, Bless this Mess AU?

As you wish :) Same AU as Bless this Mess, but early days. (For those who haven't read Bless this Mess, it's an AU where Victoria and Kate didn't meet until they were adults and therefore Victoria had never bullied Kate) The museum in this ficlet is fictional but based on my own favorite museum, the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art.

---

“This… is a museum?” The building before her has nothing of the grandeur that Victoria has come to expect from museums. It is neither cold nor imposing, just a modest one-story building with some whimsical decorative frills around the entrance. Bright colors show through the large windows. There are bronze statues scattered around the grounds, but they’re all of creatures that look like they’d be more at home in a fairytale than at a museum. Children run around the grounds, screaming and frolicking.

“Of course it is, silly!” Kate stands next to the entrance sign and Vanna Whites a hand across the bold letters. “The Leo and Diane Dillon Museum of Children’s Book Art. See? It says ‘museum’ right there.”

Part of Victoria wants to roll her eyes, curl her upper lip, and unleash a comment so scathing Kate will feel flayed to the bone for having the temerity to call this obvious travesty a ‘museum’. Fortunately, this is the part of Victoria that - with the help of her therapist and years of hard emotional labor - she’s gotten better at catching and overcoming before it can claw its vicious way to the surface. She searches for something nice or at least neutral to say instead. She likes Kate. If she didn’t like her, she would be home marathoning something on crunchyroll in her pajamas instead of getting dressed up on a Saturday morning to go out on this date with her. She doesn’t want to scare Kate off by being needlessly rude. “It’s… not quite what I’d pictured when you invited me to go to a museum with you.”

Kate’s smile doesn’t falter as Victoria had feared. Instead, it softens into a grin that does frankly criminal things to the state of Victoria’s heart. “I know what you mean,” she says so fondly that Victoria is both certain and relieved that Kate has taken her comment as a compliment instead of a barely masked insult. “The first time I came here, I couldn’t believe my eyes.” Her eyes - such warm, lovely eyes; Victoria can’t imagine a work of art that holds a candle to those eyes in any museum - sparkle. “It’s been my favorite museum since I first set foot inside. I come here at least once a month.” She sighs rapturously and Victoria’s heart gives an embarrassing squeeze. “We’re so lucky to have such a special place so close by.”

Victoria makes a noncommittal sound, not wanting to quash Kate’s enthusiasm. Kate smiles at her and beckons playfully for Victoria to follow her as she leads the way inside. They’ve only gone on a handful of dates so far, but already Victoria suspects she’d follow Kate just about anywhere.

The museum truly is unlike any that Victoria’s ever been in before. There are so many children, for one thing. The security guards just smile at them benignly, for another. The last time Victoria was in a museum, she watched someone get chewed out by a security guard for having the audacity to take notes with a pen instead of a pencil. Had a parent been foolish enough to bring a small child inside, they would’ve been stalked by security and stared at so ominously they would soon think better of their faux pas, and perhaps reconsider their decision to reproduce altogether.

But here… Here, the children are not only encouraged to run free, they’re allowed to touch things with their grubby little child hands. Encouraged to, even; there are kiosks set up all over the room they’re in with interactive exhibits, as well as cozy reading areas all around full of children’s books, where parents and children can sit together and paw through museum property with their bare and presumably unwashed hands.

“Isn’t this place amazing?” Kate asks, her voice as warm and gooey as melted chocolate. “You can practically press your nose up against the art and not get in trouble for it. I love it. I can really get in there and see how the artists used all their different materials. It’s so inspiring!”

“I’ve never seen a place like it,” Victoria replies neutrally. Honestly, the idea of children near artwork makes her break out in nervous sweats. She tries to imagine how her parents would react to children running loose at the Chase Space. They’d probably have a coronary each. She herself wasn’t allowed to set foot in the gallery until she was solidly in double digits, and even then she’d always been treated like a disaster waiting to happen, a ticking time bomb in Mary Janes.

Kate nods in satisfaction. “It’s really special.” She gestures at the room they’re in. “This gallery always has a show of Leo and Diane Dillon’s works, plus the interactive exhibits. The specific stuff changes periodically. The gallery across the hall has shows of different works by children’s book illustrators.” She smiles bashfully, a delicious pink tinge warming her cheekbones. “It’s one of my biggest dreams to be included in one of those shows.”

Victoria stops short and blinks rapidly, trying to process. “Here?” she asks, dumbfounded. Here, where children run amok? Where your artwork will never be hung alongside that of a truly great artist?? She remembers Kate mentioning minoring in illustration in undergrad, but somehow that had never really clicked in Victoria’s brain as something important. It’s not like she’d studied photography or even painting, something Victoria would be able to sustain a deep conversation about.

“Of course here!” Kate giggles. “I illustrate children’s books. Well,” she avers with a shy shrug, “a little bit, anyway. It’s only a side hustle right now, but someday I’d like it to be a bigger part of my career.” She looks around the room and sighs dreamily. “It would be such an honor to show here.”

“Here,” Victoria repeats, her brain still struggling to compute. She’s fully being rude now; she can hear it in her voice, a shift from merely confused to straight up condescending.

But Kate just giggles again and rolls her eyes, not looking remotely fazed by Victoria's attitude. “Not every artist needs to show at the Guggenheim, Tori. Some artists dream of being showcased in the Whitney Biennial, and some dream of showing in, well, the Leo and Diane Dillon Museum of Children’s Book Art.”

The nickname throws Victoria even more than Kate’s good natured response to her blatant rudeness does. It distracts her so much she almost doesn’t notice when Kate’s fingers suddenly thread into her own. “Come on,” Kate goes on, “I’m really excited about this month’s exhibit. Have you ever heard of Mary Blair?”

There’s a firm but gentle tug at Victoria’s hand leading her toward the doors separating exhibition rooms and Victoria’s awareness sparks to life. Kate’s holding her hand. Her heart dances a little two-step as she fumbles for words. “N-no, I haven’t.” Heat flushes her cheeks and she clears her throat self-consciously. “My art history degree didn’t cover children’s book art.”

Kate nods thoughtfully as she pushes the doors open and returns the security guard’s smile and wave. “She was actually more involved with animation and concept art, especially for Disney. Murals, too. But it’s true; art history classes tend to leave illustration out as a whole. It’s such a shame, really. There’s some fascinating history there.”

Victoria’s never given a shit about illustration - for children’s books or otherwise - before, but she’s pretty sure Kate could deliver a four hour lecture on the subject and she’d have Victoria’s undivided attention for every minute. “Photography gets the shaft, too, especially in survey courses,” she says. “Anything other than art history courses specifically oriented toward photography, really. It’s like if you’re not a white cishet male painter, you don’t matter.” She shakes her head in aggravation. “As though the advent of photography didn’t change the entire course of art history, and painting in particular. Such bullshit.”

Kate gives Victoria’s hand a little squeeze, and Victoria is floored once more by the realization that Kate is holding her hand. Still. She’s not even leading Victoria anywhere anymore; they’re just standing there, holding hands. It’s astonishing. “We should write a book,” Kate suggests. “Shed some light on the more underappreciated aspects of art history.” Her tone is light and teasing but Victoria finds herself considering it seriously.

“I could probably sell that pitch,” Victoria muses. “I have some contacts in publishing. You could cover illustration, I could cover photography, we could tap my friend Taylor to cover--” She’s snapped out of her brainstorming by the sensation of Kate’s thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles. “Uh, but we can work out those details later. If you want to. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about…” She gestures with her free hand. “...whatever’s going on here?”

Kate grins and gives her a warm nod, not letting go of her hand as she leads her to the nearest artwork. “Don’t be scared to get up good and close,” Kate instructs her, tugging her closer. “We’re not at the Met, don’t forget.”

Victoria scoffs. “As if I could forget that.” She lets Kate pull her closer til she’s scant inches from the art and her shoulder is pressed firmly against Kate’s. “Close to the art… or to you?” she asks softly. She doesn’t know how to look at art this closely; it all blurs to abstraction as she waits for an answer.

“Both,” Kate replies seconds before a tender kiss presses bold and warm against Victoria’s cheek.

[ibijau]

I believe you can bring this trashfire to life. 22 and 21 for Xuanwu/Jingy 😉

1. I treated this way too seriously 2. congrats on winning the ‘crackiest ship prompt I’ve received’ award 3. I picked the “Bandaging them up, scolding them for getting themselves hurt” prompt but tbh it’s barely there

There is pain, worse than anything that it has ever known, and then there is darkness and bone deep cold.

There isn’t death though.

It is too old to die so easily.

When it regains some sort of consciousness, it is weak. Weaker than it has been in many, many years. It hasn’t been so weak since it started cultivating. The energy it carefully accumulated through eating other creatures has been almost depleted to keep it alive, just as it was finally getting strong enough to consider taking a human shape. It will have to wait a little more.

That’s not a problem.

It is patient.

It is also hungry.

Its current form, massive and deadly, is a waste of energy, so one of the first things it does, upon waking up, is to make itself smaller. It can move faster like this, and prey on small creatures until it finds a good place to cultivate. Then, when it has strength again, it will devour humans once more, until it can take their shape and be one step closer to immortality and true power and then… then it will be untouchable.

Like most things, it fears death.

Having come too close to it, it fears it more than ever.

Smaller and nimbler it escapes the cave that had become its prison without issue, and sets out to feed itself. The mountains around its cave become bloodied and fearful, as they should be. And yet, there isn’t much to eat there. Mice, rabbits, a fox here and there. There are boars too, but it dares not attack them yet, not until it knows it is strong enough for it.

After some months, it feels confident enough.

It shouldn’t have.

The boars in these mountains are led by a demon, one stronger and older than him, protecting its herd from all enemies. The demon boar lunges upon it as soon as it approaches one of the sows, and thus starts a duel between them. For ten days and ten nights, it fights the demon boar, refusing to admit defeat. There can be no defeat. Not when the two humans weakened it so much in that cave, not when the demon boar has what they lacked: the power to truly kill it.

Day after day, night after night, the two bite and stomp and growl, disturbing the mountains around them, pursuing each other even into the lands that humans occupy.

This, it turns out, is what saves it.

Because they are disturbed, the humans take arms and join the fight. Figures in white that bear swords attack them. The demon board, proud and ancient, fights right back, outraged that mere mortals dare to stand against its power. While it is occupied with these new opponents, the old one flees to lick its wounds.

It cannot go very far, not in the state it is in. All it can do is make itself smaller still, to save energy, and hide under a fallen tree to bide its time. Sooner or later, the smell of its blood will attract insects, or perhaps some mice if it is lucky. A fox even, who knows. It is sure to attract something, and then it will feast, and then it will heal. This is only a minor setback. It doesn’t change its plans in the least.

All it means is that someday, when it is back to its full strength, it will challenge the demon boar again and devour it.

It will not lose again.

That plan is ruined when it is found by something rather bigger than a fox. Something more dangerous as well. 

A few hours after escaping the demon boar, it is found by a human. 

Small as it currently is, it can still tell that the human isn't very big for one of its kind. Its energy is wild and uncontrolled too, meaning it must still be young. If it had any strength left, it would devour that child. Even in its diminished state, it considers it. Taking on its true shape would be exhausting, but it might be worth the risk. 

Before it can get started on that, the child laughs and lifts it up to look at it. 

"You're a funny turtle!" it giggles. "Oh ! Your neck is so long!" 

Furious at being handled like this, it tries to bite the human. To its surprise, the child has quick reflexes and grabs it by the base of its neck before its teeth can sink into flesh. 

"Oh, you have big teeth. I didn't even know turtles had teeth. Maybe you're a special turtle? But you also look a bit like a snake…" 

It is not a turtle, and it is not a snake. It is what it is, and does not need a name, though it knows fearful humans once gave it one. 

"You really are funny," the child says. "I'm going to keep you with me until a-niang and a-die come back. They'll know what you are. A-niang knows everything."

It struggles, trying to escape, but the child holds on. 

"It's okay, you don't have to be scared," the child says. "You don't have a lot of strength, but it's fine, I'll protect you and we're going to be friends. I'll take you home, and I'll find a secret place to keep you, and it'll be great." 

Satisfied with that decision, the child walks away from the place where it hid, taking it with him. 

As hours pass, it becomes resigned to its situation, and helplessly listen to the child's chatter. 

He is called Lan Jingyi. He is learning cultivation in a great sect. His parents and him were on their way home after visiting his maternal grandparents for the new year, but they stumbled upon some problems. Jingyi's parents told him to hide while they took care of some disturbances, and will return when things are safe again. After a while Jingyi got bored, and started to walk around looking for something to do. 

It has been a long, long while since it has spent so much time in the company of a creature without fighting to kill. This child talks too much, but he bears it no ill will, which is an odd feeling. In fact, Jingyi, upon noticing on its body the marks of its fight with the demon boar, takes something greasy from a pouch he carries, and applies it to the wounds. 

The grease smells of grass and flowers, but the taste of it is unpleasant. 

“Don’t eat that, it’s for healing!” Jingyi scolds it. “Also, you should be more careful. How did you get all hurt like that? You shouldn’t pick fights, you know. A-niang says, don’t fight others if you can’t win.”

It hisses at the child. It would have won that fight, if those humans had not weakened it.

"When we go home, I'll ask Hanguang-jun to look at you," Jingyi announces. "He knows about rabbits, and turtles can't be too different. Then we’ll heal you, and find you a nice place to stay and… and if you’re not in the house, you’re not a pet, so it’s fine. Sizhui says that’s why the rabbits are allowed.”

It tries, again, to bite the child, but is stopped. Its indignation and anger remain. It does not like being compared to rabbits, which are mere prey. It is a hunter, a dangerous killer, a king among beasts. It is a triumphant being that none can harm… or it was, once. It will be so again, once it recovers.

“It’s getting kind of dark, isn’t it?” Jingyi remarks, his voice trembling slightly. “I think… I think we should have dinner, and maybe find a place to stop and continue waiting for a-niang and a-die. I bet you’re hungry too, right?”

It is, of course, famished. It worries for a brief moment that the child will attempt to eat it. It would do that, if it only had the strength, or if this were a weaker child, but Jingyi has shown already he would be no easy prey in spite of his youth. If Jingyi attacks it and tries to eat it…

But this does not happen. Instead, from the little pouch at his side, Jingyi now produces a few round and pale balls. Their fragrant smell hits its nose with enough strength to make it dizzy. There is meat in there, among other things.

Jingyi sits on the forest ground, very mindful of his posture and his clothes, and puts the creature next to him. He takes one of the balls for himself, and puts the other on the ground.

“I hope it’s okay that it’ll get a bit dirty. A-niang says I can’t eat things that have fallen in the dirt, but since you’re a turtle I guess that’s fine.”

It does not mind the dirt. That’s a part of feeding.

It is, however, confused by the offering of food. It knows that gods are gifted sacrifices, but this seems different. Jingyi does not know it is not an ordinary beast, so he cannot be trying to appease it, or to demand favours from it. So why waste food on another being? It has never seen such a thing. Even before it began cultivating, its species was a solitary one, born from eggs that hatched alone, and then never collaborated with its own kind save for the brief necessities of reproduction. Generosity is a foreign concept for it, and so this makes it suspicious.

Compared to hunger, suspicion doesn’t hold much power.

The fight with the demon boar was a fierce one, it is now famished, and the pale ball smells delicious. Keeping an eye on Jingyi, it extends its neck and bites into the ball.

The texture of the ball is soft as snow, the taste richer than anything it has ever eaten. For a moment it stays frozen, shocked that such a sensation is even possible. This is nothing like devouring fresh flesh and bones. This is a delight so great that it wonders, for a moment, if it has ascended to immortality all of a sudden, because nothing in the mortal realm could be this pleasant.

That first bite is quickly swallowed, and it bites again, and again, until it reaches the filling inside that pale ball. Somehow, that manages to be even better. The meat there has been made tender and savoury, there are herbs and plants which compliments one another to perfection.

For the first time in its life, it is eating not merely out of hunger, but out of pleasure.

“I guess you like that,” Jingyi remarks, chewing on his own share. “I made them with a-niang, that’s why they have meat. A-die doesn’t eat meat, because of Lan rules, but a-niang says it’s stupid and meat buns bring more energy when we travel. Also, they’re tasty, right? Hm… but if you eat meat, I can’t show you to Hanguang-Jun. He wouldn’t like it if you tried to bite the rabbits. Maybe I can ask Zewu-Jun to look at you… but he follows the rules more so he’ll probably… ah! I forgot I’m not supposed to talk during meals!”

Jingyi looks down at the creature which is still devouring the bun with such pleasure it would weep, if its body were made for it.

“Hey, you won’t tell anyone that I talked during the meal, right? We’re friends, so you can’t tell anyone. Friends have to stick together.”

He sounds worried enough that the creature stops eating and looks at him. Friends, like generosity, is a foreign concept to it, though one it has witnessed a little more often. Groups of friends have attempted to defeat it in the past, and it has seen weak demons band together to better survive. It remembers, also, those two humans in the cave, working together with practiced ease, coming so close to killing it.

After some consideration, it nods at Jingyi. They can be friends, as thanks for the food.

Jingyi grins, and resumes chatting about many things and many people. Clearly, he enjoys talking, and so this rule of silence must be hard on him.

After a while, they both finish eating. The creature feels warm and content and sleepy, even more than it did so many years ago when it entered that cave, fat on the flesh of those it devoured. Since night has now fallen, Jingyi lays down on the ground, curled up on himself, the creature in his arm. He smells faintly of fear, but he is young and walked a lot, and so he still manages to fall asleep.

It starts nodding off as well, but is quickly awakened by the presence of others nearby.

This forest, at the foot of the mountain, is ancient, and has seen many tragedies. As such, of course there are many beings there that are attracted by the tasty energy of a young boy. As the night gets dark, ghosts and demons gather around Jingyi, sniffing him out, desperate to steal his energy and be fed for a little while. It is an isolated place, and they often go years without sustenance.

If not for the creature in Jingyi’s arms, the boy would be dead.

It is not, at the moment, very impressive to look at, but its aura is still that of a centuries old demon that has eaten more humans than those pitiful ghosts could ever dream of. It is powerful beyond anything they’ve ever seen, except maybe the boar demon that occasionally comes down from the mountain… and since they’ve learned to fear that boar demon, they know they probably need to fear this one as well.

Still, the sleeping boy tempts them. They beg for a taste, for a bite.

“Mine,” it hisses, snapping its weak jaws at those who dare come too close. “Mine!”

There is an alliance now between it and Jingyi. The child gave it food, and asked for friendship in return, which it agreed to. It is now bound to its word, bound to this child, and it will protect him.

“Mine.”

If even one of these ghosts and demons tried to attack, then it would probably be powerless to defend Jingyi. Even after the miracle that was eating that bun, it still hasn’t recovered its strength. The fight with the demon boar was just too much. Still it makes itself feel scary, hissing and snapping, growling threats at them all, until dawn arrives at last and they return into hiding.

It has protected Jingyi.

It has been a friend.

Jingyi wakes soon after the sun rises. He looks a little tired still, but that is no surprise with so many ghosts and demons gathered around him all night. He eats a bun, and once again gives another to the creature.

Agreeing to the friendship was a good choice. Even now that it is no longer starving, the bun still tastes as delicious. More so perhaps. It can eat more slowly this time, and fully appreciate the flavour.

It has only eaten about half of the bun, while listening to more of Jingyi’s chatter, when other voices start being heard, coming from far away. It braces itself, fearing it might be stronger demons, the sort that would dare to attack even in daylight, but next to it, Jingyi jumps to his feet and starts shouting back.

“A-niang! A-niang, I’m here! A-die, a-niang!”

The voices come closer. Jingyi gets more and more excited, jumping in place, but still careful not to trample his friend.

“They’re here, they found me!” he exclaims as he grabs his friend, and brings it toward the pouch at his side. “We’re going home! Just, be quiet, don’t make a fuss. If they see you they’ll make me leave you behind, so you have to be quiet.”

That is all the warning it gets before it is dumped into the pouch. It fears being in such a small space, but quickly realises that the inside of the pouch is bigger than the outside, and relaxes. When its half eaten bun joins it, it decides that this isn’t a bad arrangement, and simply goes back to eating. It protected Jingyi during the night, and now is being protected by him during the day. This seems like a good arrangement. Friendship is not a bad thing to have.

A long while seems to pass after that. It does not mind. Having eaten that second bun made it sleepy, and so it takes the chance to rest.

It awakes to the pouch being opened, and Jingyi’s hand seizing it with great gentleness. It is pleased to see its friend again, and shows it by not trying to bite him. Jingyi smiles at it, and a faint smell of fear disappears.

“Sorry to have left you in there so long, I just couldn’t find a moment,” Jingyi says with relief. “I’m glad you’re fine. And your wounds are better too! That’s great!”

“That’s a weird turtle,” another youthful voice says. “Maybe you really should show it to an adult.”

Next to where Jingyi is sitting in the grass, there is another boy. He is shorter, but seems older, and doesn’t appear too impressed with the creature, as if he can guess its true nature.

“They’ll tell me to put it in the wild,” Jingyi says. “And then maybe it’ll be eaten by… by… what eats turtles, anyway?”

“I think foxes,” the other boy guesses. “They eat everything, right?”

“I can’t let it be eaten by a fox!” Jingyi gasps with horror. “But here, it’ll be safe, and I can check on it, and bring it buns.”

“I don’t think turtles are supposed to eat buns.”

It is starting to dislike the second boy. Thankfully, Jingyi only laughs.

“This one does. That’s because a-niang’s buns are the best,” he explains, before turning his attention back to the creature. “Look, I found you such a nice place to live, okay? Isn’t this a nice little pond? I’m sure you’ll find stuff to eat, and anyway I’ll come visit often to give you buns. Do you like it?”

He puts down his friend near the edge of the water. This is, in fact, a very nice pond. The water is clear, showing fish inside. Nearby, mice can be heard. It will not lack for food. More importantly though, the pond has all the signs of being a good place to cultivate, better even than the one where it started its journey, centuries ago. It will be easy, here, to regain what was lost to the two humans and the demon boar. Agreeing to Jingyi’s friendship continues to be a great decision. 

For the first time in its long life, it feels truly grateful. And so, to show it, it bows to Jingyi before entering the water. It hears the two boys gasp, Jingyi claiming this is proof his friend is no ordinary animal, the other boy worrying that maybe there is something wrong with the creature.

It ignores both of them, and swims around to map its new territory.

It is a very good pond, and already, it feels new energy flowing through it just from being in such an auspicious place. In a few months, it will easily be able to take again its old shape if it wishes, and then it could go on a rampage again.

It could.

It might not. If it kills humans, Jingyi might not bring it buns anymore.

Better, then, to cultivate in the slower method, to keep this smaller shape for now. With some luck and effort, in a few years, it will reach again the level it was at before those two humans harmed it, and then…

And then, it will be able to take a human shape at last.

It wonders how Jingyi will react to that.

It cannot wait to find out.

[obsidiancorner]

ObiYuki Bingo- Cyberpunk

Wherever You Go- Chapter 1

(Shout out to @ruleofexception for naming this thing that I have been struggling to name since my board came out and I saw what all was on it. )

Year: Ad Pacem-1103 (3119 AD)

"... They look human, making it nearly impossible to deduce who they are by physical traits alone. They have also studied our speech patterns.”

Shirayuki hangs her head in her hands, elbows propped on the very edge of her desk so she doesn’t skew or drop any pages of the research splayed out in front of her. Whoever leaked the info to the media signed their own death warrant. At a guess, they will simply vanish from existence under the silent vigilance of the approaching midnight hours.

“The specimen in custody converses fluently with the state officials interrogating it but it will not divulge any information regarding how long it has been here, what their objectives are, and, ultimately, what their interest is in Earth’s-”

Shirayuki slams her hand down on the button beside the small projector lens from her desk, hitting it too hard in frustration and her old desk groans in protest as the screen flickers out of existence, leaving her alone in the quiet solitude of her office. She resists the urge to pace by drumming her nails on the surface of her desk.

There’s always something going on. Nothing can be easy anymore. No break from one calamity to the next. The only guarantee is that some other shadow looms on the horizon. Why not an alien invasion? Sure. First it was a deadly plant they had to somehow make prosperous. Then it was a coup attempt that thankfully failed. Why not an alien invasion next. That’s way more interesting and potentially life threatening now that they’ve been found out.

With a heavy sigh, Shirayuki shuts off the newscast. She smacks the button on her console with more force than is strictly necessary and the screen before her shrinks into nothing as the shutter from the projector on the desk winks closed and the quiet whir of the computer dissipates. Obi will have something to say about that when they meet for lunch, Shirayuki thinks as she packs up to meet him at their favorite cafe.

-----------

Obi is late. He’s never late for food and he never skips a meal without a mandatory and likely classified reason. When the server approaches for the third time, Shirayuki orders him something just in case he shows up last-minute.

His food arrives but her lunch is ending. True fear creeps in with all the subtlety of a hurricane making landfall. The server, probably assuming she had been stood up for a lunch date, flashes her a pitied smile and packs the extra meal in a takeout box for her.

Shirayuki responds with what she hopes is a smile, though it feels like a grimace, before tucking Obi’s untouched meal under her arm.

She makes a quick stop at the lab to tell Garrack she doesn’t feel well and needs to take the afternoon off before heading home to stew in her worry in the comfort of her own home.

----------

“They can be found through infrared scanning,” Izana says as he taps his stack of intel reports on his desk to neaten the edges.

Obi drums his fingers on his leg. His nerves are fraying because nothing good can come of this. Aliens are among them and no government officials have been approached for permission to be here. It’s an aggressive and underhanded act from unnamed foes from heaven and stars only know where.

“What do you suggest we do? Makiri?”

Obi doesn’t flinch. Barely. It’s been a long time since he has heard such an aggressive level of annoyance from an employer. At least he isn’t the reason for it. Though his presence in this meeting leads him to believe he’s about to be a part of it whether he wants to or not, right along side Mitsuhide and Hisame who are likewise unfortunate enough to be sitting beside him.

“Your majesty, I believe it is for the best if we go ahead and authorize the military’s partnership with Cyberdyne Systems. We now have the technology to do it safely and we need a sharper edge if we are going to defend ourselves against such a threat.” Makiri is all business, matter-of-fact and unflinching in his appraisal of the situation and his assessment of an appropriate counter-measure.

Obi looks at Makiri. The fuck is Cyberdyne Systems? Makiri, despite it being his suggestion, whatever it is, looks uneasy at the thought. The conviction of his words no longer syncs with his facial expression so whatever it is must not be good news or an entirely safe plan. A sobering concept. Makiri is never anything but sure of himself.

“Do it. Get me the paperwork and you’ll have my signature the moment it lands on my desk,” Izana responds with a calm intensity that sends tendrils of dread shooting up his spine. He’s a master of revealing nothing. He would have made a good spy, had he not been born to rule a kingdom.

With a sharp nod, Makiri turns to leave and Obi seizes the opportunity to elbow Mitsuhide. “Cyberdyne Systems?”

Mitsuhide sighs, inaudible but obvious by the way his shoulders sag with the exhale. Sir always has been one for formality and decorum. Whispered concerns are not something that makes him happy during an already bad meeting on an already crap day.

“Obi. Mitsuhide. Hisame.”

“Your majesty,” they respond in practised unison acknowledgement of the highest commander of the Clarines military.

“You three will be the first to undergo the transformation under Cyberdyne’s medical staff. You are exemplary fighters and are the best suited for the transition. Report to the Cyberdyne Systems base in Oriold in two days. That will give you time to say any goodbyes you may feel necessary”

With that, Izana leaves the meeting room. No one in the room needs any other direction. The war council is adjourned and it is time to make their respective plans.

“What do you think he means by ‘transformation’ and ‘say goodbyes?’”

“I don’t know, Obi. But I’m going to go see Kiki and I suggest you go back to Lilias. Spend time with Shirayuki and Ryuu.”

----------

When Obi walks into their apartment late in the evening, he looks bones-deep exhausted. The weight of the world bowing his shoulders and hunching his back more than usual. He leaves his to-go box from lunch uneaten. Ryuu pulls himself out of his book, he notices the tension and excuses himself for bed. Shirayuki can’t quash the feeling that something is happening. Something she doesn’t know. Something big and likely awful.

When she stands in front of him, looking at him with pleading eyes- begging him to talk to her- he reaches out to hug her. He pulls her so close. Holds her so tight. And she knows. She knows. Their lives are about to change forever and nothing can stop it.

When he lets go, he pulls out his work-issued comm tablet and opens up his email. “I’m not supposed to show you this,” he says, as distant as the palm trees of Yuris when he hands her his tablet without looking at her.

“You will report to Cyberdyne Systems. Come fully hydrated. Drink no less than one gallon of water the day before your arrival. The medical staff will perform some preliminary bloodwork and a urine sample will be required. At which time you will be moved to surgery for implantations and modifications. After you recover, you will be paired with your handler, a person going through training to work with you in battle strategy as well as serve as your own specialized mechanic.

Makiri Arleon”

Obi sighs. “I have two days to say my goodbyes and report for duty.”

“What do they mean ‘handler’ and ‘implantations and modifications?’” She can’t believe what she is reading. This sounds suspiciously like mechanizing real people, a concept that had been rumored to be experimented with but has thus far been chalked up to nothing more than the newest wave of lingering conspiracy theories.

“This is how I lose my humanity, Miss,” he says with the saddest smile she’s ever seen and her heart shatters for him. “I’ve been one of the three men selected to be in the first round of cyber fighters to protect everyone from the aliens.”

She doesn’t know how to react at first. She feels as lost as he looks. But he needs her right now and he needs her as strong and ‘normal’ as ever though this is anything but. She settles with something safe. “Let’s get some sleep, if we can. We can wake up early tomorrow and take Ryuu on a hiking trip. He’d like that.”

“Yeah.” He gives her shoulder the slightest of squeezes as he walks into the bathroom.

When she hears the shower turn on, she seizes her opportunity and grabs her cell phone. She punches in a phone number that is way more familiar than she would ever like it to be. When the line connects and before he can say anything, she says, “I want to be his handler.”

The chuckle that fills the space is one of genuine amusement which is surprising but she won’t complain about it. She’ll take what she can get out of him, though nothing with him ever comes without it’s own price. Cost doesn’t matter this time. Whatever demands he makes, she’ll pull through on it.

“The handlers are in charge of keeping the mechas healthy and working with them on strategy, correct?” She will press him. She’s earned enough of his respect to throw some of her weight around. He knows damn good and well how useful she is and how reliably she can be that useful.

“You read the whole email,” he states. No question, just facts, and oh so very, very irritatingly Izana. But he confirms what she read anyway. “That is correct, yes,”

“Then let me be his.” She leaves no room for argument. She will fight him on this. It’s them or neither and she will make sure of it. Tanbarun would hide them without hesitation and all it would take is a call to Prince Raj.

“You know I could have him court martialed and jailed for feeding you classified information, right?” She doesn’t miss the gravity in his words.

She laughs, bitter and hollow. He could, in theory. But Obi is the best fighter Izana has in his arsenal and she is the best medic that doesn’t have other obligations preventing them from signing on. Whether he likes it or not, she is the best equipped to be Obi’s handler. “We both know you won’t do that.”

[matrixreimagined]

Matrix Gift Exchange

I had @thelivemouse​! Happy Holidays, friend! 

A Glitch in the Matrix; A Flaw in His System

Agent Smith existed in a world of certainty and fundamental truth. The Matrix, he knew, was his purpose. He was its chosen guardian. He existed to stop the chaotic Zionists and their mission of liberated anarchy.

Humans, it seemed, were unable to behave in a manner that catered to their best interests.

And that was why the Matrix existed. The system to govern the humans, teasing them with the illusion of choice, while driving them all to complete their purpose. To power the machines.

There was order in his world.

A reason for everything.

Until there wasn’t.

Smith could find no reason for the abrupt change that he sensed on March 11, 1962. His counterparts didn’t seem to find anything different but Smith knew that there was something wrong in the Matrix. Something didn’t belong.

It was nothing he could recognize; nothing surface level.

But something was wrong and it was distracting.

He checked to see if there was an update he was missing; perhaps there was a glitch in his own software. An easy fix.

But no.

For some inexplicable reason, he was drawn to the Matrix Stats. A program that kept track of everything from the blades of grass within the simulation to the number of programs within the Matrix.

He checked it all but found himself staring at the population. 380,111 new babies had been born on March 11 while some 156, 916 had been taken away, their bodies recycled in the real world to nourish the little ones.

Yes, Smith acknowledged, things were different. But like an update, he learned to adjust. After a while, those little twinges that something was wrong became normal, easier for him to ignore. And that was just what he did.

It would be years before Smith thought about that day.

Year more before he would understand the significance of that day.

Six years pass and Smith no longer gives thought to the odd sensation. Or was it a feeling? 

No, he decided, not a feeling.

He wasn’t capable of that. It was not something assigned to anti-virus programs.

It’s a winter day when Hamann and his crew break into an apartment building to free some moron who thought life would be better in the harsh underground city. But Hamann and his crew weren’t as careful as they should have been.

They managed a trace, missed the warning signs of deja vu.

When the Agents arrived, it melted into chaos.

Their potential red pill was killed in the crossfire, along with another from Hamann’s crew.

The rest escaped, running in different directions.

And the Agents gave chase, each in pursuit.

Smith had chased Hamann, following him through the halls. The man burst into an apartment building and jumped through a window to the fire escape. He took the steps two at a time and Smith was gaining on him when a small child climbed between them, looking down at the older man who was running down the stairs. 

Smith barely stopped himself from crashing into the child.

Casualties, particularly young ones, were to be avoided by the Agent’s mandate. And while accidents happened, he tried to avoid casualties. 

In hindsight, he should have walked around the child and finished his pursuit. He probably would have caught up to the terrorist and managed to put him down before he reached an exit. 

Yet Smith couldn’t seem to look away from the dark-haired child, staring up at him with large brown eyes.

“What are you doing on my fire escape?” The boy asked.

Smith scanned the child.

Thomas Anderson.

Date of Insertion: March 11, 1962.

Age: six years.

The date struck him, freezing him in place as he regarded the young child.

A coincidence, he was nearly certain.

The boy was only six. He could hardly be the cause of the discomfort, the strange sensation that had once caused him pause.

Thomas, he thought. From the Aramaic To’oma. Meaning twin.

But humans, it seemed, rarely chose names based on their meanings. Thomas was an only child. There was no twin, no partner of sorts.

Just a lonely little one, as lost in the world as anyone else.

Anderson, Smith noted. Meaning son of Andrew. Andrew, of course, meaning man. Son of man.

Again, highly irrelevant.

Little Thomas might not know it but he was the child of machines, composed mostly of organic tissue but with enough mechanisms that he was no longer entirely human either.

“Sir? What are you doing on my fire escape?” The boy asked again. 

A flash of annoyance spread through the Agent and it startled him. Annoyance was intrinsically human and Smith was far from it. As distant as one could possibly be from a fickle thing like emotions.

Before the boy could ask again, he said, “You’re dreaming. Go to sleep.”

“I’m not dreaming!” Thomas insisted, looking angry at the assumption.

“Trust me: you’re dreaming.” Smith quickly walked off, unwilling to stand and address the flash of annoyance, the anger that seemed ingrained in his avatar’s bones. All the while, the thoughts racing through his head.

Emotions are human.

Jones and Brown were down the street when he caught up with them.

“The girl made it out.”

“As did Hamann.” Smith confirmed.

“Their gunner is dead.” Jones stated.

Something sickly starts to grow inside Smith that the confirmation. It was dark and made him uneasy, almost nauseous. Programs didn’t get nauseous, Smith thought, but then, they also didn’t feel.

It should have been me to stop him.

Me.

A personal pronoun, indicating identity of the individual.

Smith was not an individual. He belonged to a tripariate program. A collective with a single purpose: to stop Zionists from freeing people.

They had done their job. Had managed to kill a few Zionists while at it.

The matter of who killed who was unimportant, irrelevant.

So why did Smith feel as though the world was shrinking around him? As if it were becoming infinitely smaller, taking his focus away from the Matrix and projecting it onto himself. And yet, selfishness was inherently human.

The earlier programs could experience things such as emotions. The Merovingian was a prime example of abstract hedonism. The Oracle was known for her compassion towards the humans. Even the Architect was mired with complex feelings towards the slaves, giving him the insight necessary to design the Matrix to suit their needs. 

But Agents had no need for feelings.

He ran the possibilities in his mind.

Perhaps there had been a malfunction, in which case, he should report himself immediately and be taken to exile. A new Agent would be created, reprogrammed to fix the inherently human traits that seemed to be prevalent in Smith.

But no, he thinks. Exile does not seem… pleasant.

Self-preservation, however, was a human instinct.

He wondered if it was worse than he initially thought but Smith ignored it all.

He would discover, over the coming months and years, that it was not all that hard to cover up the occasional flash of feelings that rise to the surface when dealing with the Zionites. He did his best to eliminate any sign of the virus within the Matrix.

Years pass.

All the while, Smith feels his distaste for humanity growing. He hides it under a practiced mask if only to protect himself from deletion. 

A few hundred people are freed, a few hundred more die.

New captains and crews replace the ones that grow old or are eliminated. Most act in quiet desperation, trying their hands at stealth and trickery, hoping to avoid the attention of the Agents.

And then there was the Nebuchadnezzar.

Led by Morpheus, the entire crew seemed to be operating on a single brain cell. 

But then the message came through. A human willing to act as a spy in order to be placed back in the safety of the Matrix. While it wasn’t impossible, it would be a waste of resources to do such. But the human didn’t need to know that.

Instead, they agreed to the deal and were given a name.

The new bastard that Morpheus determined was capable of destroying the Matrix.

“We have the name of their next target.” Said Jones.

And Brown finished, “The name is Neo.”

Neo.

A scan of the information at hand brought him to the owner of the alias. A picture of a tall, clean-shaven man with dark hair and eyes appears, along with a name and a profile.

Thomas Anderson.

For a moment, Smith was aware of his every synapsis. The speed of every thought that went through his program. He could feel his very avatar like a cage surrounding him, trapping him.

Thomas Anderson.

March 11, 1962.

The day the Matrix turned. 

Smith had never given any thought to Morpheus’ mission to find someone capable of destroying the Matrix. Smith had deemed it impossible long ago. 

But now…

New feelings are creeping in.

While before, Smith found himself riddled with disgust over humanity, frustration at his own limitations, and annoyance in others, he finds something new growing inside him.

A new feeling plotting and working its way through him, consuming him.

Anticipation.

Finding Thomas Anderson, confronting him, capturing him before Morpheus is able…

He doesn't buy into the concept of the One but he couldn't deny that the man was special. 

Now was the time for planning. Tomorrow would be the time for action.

And soon, Smith would find out for himself exactly how special Thomas Anderson was.

[ia-bi-tia]

Rumours - Ia’s POV

based on this amazing piece of writing by @vissenta-senadz

pairing: Ia x Calum

Words: 2,456

NSFW BELOW CUT!

also a note before we begin: I mention this thing at one point that smokers do where if you light someone’s cigarette with your right hand, they owe you 7 years of sex and idk if it’s an international thing or not, but i just thought I should share bc I think it’s a fun one :)

_______________________________________________________________

Often Ia and Vedra would find themselves in the company of fellow musicians. Though not in a strict band anymore, talented friends and acquaintances would often share the stage with them. Or, rather, side of the street, how it most often was these days. Or perhaps it was, until a month ago that is.

For a short while now they had been playing with these talented twins. A month now, maybe.

They were perhaps the most talented people they had ever played with - judging by how enamoured the crowd was with them at least. 

It was quite understandable, really - they played music rarely heard by the people of Vesuvia and they played it well.

And they were quite a sight to be seen.

Both were tall with striking blue eyes and dark hair with one white strand each. Beautiful bone structure. And those pretty lips.

Ia would often find themself staring at those pretty lips of Calum’s, wondering what sweet little lies they could whisper to them. Vedra’s thoughts, on the other hand, were often on Grier’s lips but she’d often imagine all the ways she’d keep her quiet rather than have her talk. 

Ia and Vedra were no strangers to attractive colleagues and the spark which would consequently turn into a flame which burns both parties. 

But the two more often than not decided against learning anything from the experiences. But for now the twins were held at a distance. Maybe it was a sign of maturity. Or perhaps it was the little dance of will they won’t they that kept it sweet. Whatever it was, Vedra was content with little throwaway flirty comments she’d throw in Griers direction, enjoying her oblivious nature. But Ia was eager - very eager - to see further development. They didn’t understand the concept of not mixing work and pleasure and had a hard time understanding why Calum would restrain himself from making a move on them. For a while they thought he perhaps just wasn’t into them.

But why’d they always find him looking at them, then?

For their performances together, Ia had ditched the banjo’s bastard child they usually played and relayed on their tambourine - after all, they were no match for Grier’s skills. And they very much didn’t mind being the centre of visual attention to the audience.

The way they played was energetic and they never shied away from using tricks they learned from their long love for the instrument. They’d interact with the audience, joke around, dance, twirl, point the audience’s attention - create a narrative of it. 

And never stop the conversation with Calum’s drumming.

Every glance thrown his way was them challenging him to keep going, to give them something to respond to. And he did so every time.

They were still buzzed and energetic once the show had come to a close. One leg in front of the other in a dancer like stance, they bowed deeply and practically skipped off the stage.

Ia was too lost in their own buzz to properly tease Vedra about her not-so-subtle behaviour.

They stand up from the table and lean on it, their cigarette holder in one hand and drink politely in the other. It was some kind of beer. Or something. They weren’t one to refuse a drink on the house and besides, perhaps with how well the performance went, the owner might let them reopen their tab.

Gods... He was so pretty.

“Fancy a smoke, Cal?”, they nudged him, “You’ll have to roll ‘em, though... ‘Fraid I left my papers at home.”, they pouted for a second then flashed him a playful grin. Their papers were in Vedra’s back pocket but they preferred to ask them from him. The cigarettes tasted sweeter when he rolled them.

He rolls his eyes, “Of course you did.”, and he joins them and the two make their way out the door and round the corner of the building.

Ia leans against the wall next to a stack of crates and looks around. They were alone and it was dark, the only light coming from the inside of the building, their eyes taking a moment to adjust to the shift.

“Looks like no one alse was in the mood to smoke tonight.”

It was an innocent observation and yet they couldn’t shake their attention away from him as he started to roll a cigarette for them, as their attention would often be grabbed by other things.

But right now their attention was on his hands as he rolls the paper and on his tongue as he helps it stick. 

They put the cigarette in their holder and let him light it for them.

“Another seven years for the stockpile, huh?”, they chuckled. It was impossible to see if Calum had any reaction so they took a drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke go out their teeth as it exited their lungs.

They take another drag. “Impressive playing you did.”, they break the silence. ‘Impressive hand work’, they thought, ‘very impressive.’

“Impressive dancing you did.”, Calum replies, “No one jingle-jangles across that stage like you do.”

Ia laughs earnestly, “Oh, I should hope not!”, they grin and do a little sway with their hips, back still to the wall, “Someone’s got to keep to keep them entertained.”. They cock their head to the side and take a few moments just looking at him curiously then flash a grin, “Well, someone other than you.”

Calum takes a few moments searching for the right words. 

“Oh, I’ve just got the drum, nothing special about that.”

Ia puts out their cigarette against the textured wall, attention flicking between it and Calum and they take a step forward, weight resting on one leg more than the other, hands innocently behind their back.

“Sure there is.”, he wasn’t usually this humble and they continue with keen interest in how flustered they could get him, “No one else has hands like those.”

Their gaze travels down to his hand which was reaching for the tapper at his belt to play with it. Ia never thought they’d ever be so attracted to someone’s simple nervous habit. But he had beautiful hands and the way he moved them would give you ideas. And they gave them so many ideas.

So many ideas in fact that they did even notice the way they licked their lips watching him.

Their eyes widened as he took a few quick steps toward them, backing them up against the wall. The surprise turned into a grin. They liked this course of events very much. 

He playfully nudges their face up with his tapper by their chin, “Like the way I play the drum, eh?”

Ia was never good at hiding their thoughts or feelings and the way they were looking up at him it was very obvious they were enjoying themself already. Their face broke into a self-satisfied smirk, “Just smack my ass and call me a bodhran.”

Their mouths crash, hungry and eager, this being a long time coming for the both of them. Ia feels a gentle press of his knee between their legs and they happily allow him to wedge his thigh between them and as he does a groan gets caught in their throat. They hum and trance their hands down his back and onto his hips, pulling him closer so they could feel his cock on their hip as well as getting more of the sweet friction. As he groans their hands grow more insistent, enjoying the man’s voice get like this very much.

Calum pulls away, panting, and they look up at him, hoping this wouldn’t be it. Their face is flushed and their eyes glossy as they look up at him looking as needy as ever.

“Do you really want me to call you a bodhran?”

Ia laughs, “Oh, definitely not!”.

They take a moment to look at him some more, making sure what they are about to say sticks with him, “Definitely not!”

They use the hands on his hips to pull themself up, closer to his lips just barely brushing over them, “But you know what I would like?”. Their lips brush over the skin of his neck, their words now quieter in case anyone was around so he’d know they were just for him.

“I’d like it if you’d..”, they place a kiss on his neck, “Smack my ass…”, their mouth travels to his earlobe and give it a little nibble, “And call me your little slut.”

Ia is brought down again as he is immediately pressed against them, braced on his palms on each side of their head, his tapper dropping to the cobblestone below as he does so. There is excitement in their eyes, satisfied with their attempt at riling him up. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.”, he whispers as he glides his gentle lips over theirs. 

To be honest, there was much worse they were hoping to get from him in any future scenarios like this and a little smirk played on their lips as they looked down at his then up at his eyes.

But they oh so loved that he asked. And they surprisingly loved how gentle he was with it as well.

They nod, this part being almost a reflex at this point and so was the more serious tone they say it with, “Hurricane means stop.”

They know it’s about to be fun after they give out their safeword and their excitement is almost tangible, but so is the way their face falls once he steps back. 

They are stopped mid-whine as he turns them around by their shoulders, the sound turning into a delighted giggle.

Calum presses them against the wall again, still giving them room to show him what they are comfortable with. So they did.

They brace their forearms against the rough wall, giving him a visual cue that they might like to be tied up like that later on, then arch their back. They bite their lip as they could feel his cock again. They wondered why he’d wait so long to do this when it felt so good.

They can feel Calum bending down, presumably to pick his tapper up and Ia looks up at the roof of the building as they wait. Then they feel a smack on their upper thigh and they can’t contain a smile. Then another, sharper smack comes.

“You think about this when you watch me play, Ia?”, he asks.

Perhaps they didn’t imagine this exact scenario, but they thought it better not to get into detail. 

Their lips are stretched in a smile as their eyes flutter closed, and they nod, “Mm hmm.”

For a long second Calum is doing something, presumably putting the tapper away. Then Ia feels a proper smack on their ass. They let out a hum and wriggle against him. 

Calum presses up against them, murmuring into their ear, “You think about what my hands could be doing to you?”. His one hand somehow fit both their wrists as he braced himself against them and they could feel his now very hard cock against them. They don’t respond, they just push back and grind on him. And he lets out the prettiest moan in response.

"You know what I think about, Ia?", Calum joins in on the rhythm, "I think about the way you move, and the way that you look at me, and how you'd look at me when I use these hands to make you come."

Gods, that sounded good. They let out a groan which turned into a pleading whine which begged for more. 

Calum presses closer, his warm breath tickling the back of their neck. Then their ear. Then they feel him nibble their earlobe and they hum in response. 

He spoke in almost a whisper, "Where do you want my hands, Ia?"

Fuck. Everywhere. Pulling their hair, around their neck, on their chest, on their hips, smacking their ass and-

"Inside me.", they whine and try to turn their head to meet his lips. And they feel like a pathetic little slut doing it. Just as they like it.

Calum bites on Ia's lower lip and they could feel the friction of his cock even better now. Oh how frustrating were the clothes between them. They kept up their rhythm, giving worship to every single inch they could feel. 

They feel Calum's hand slide down their front and into their trousers. 

They are more than warm and welcoming to him as he slips one finger in. They let out a moan and position their hips for easier entry, letting him know he could add more. As he slips in and rocks the second finger, his palm rubs deliciously against their clit.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?”, he breathes.

 Ia’s forehead is against their forearm, their breathing heavy as they let out groans. “Mm… Mm hmm.”, they nod their head eagerly.

“You wanted me to look at you dance, didn’t you?”, Calum gives a hearty thrust against their ass, “You wanted me to think about how you’d feel, hm?”.

Yes, Yes, Yes! 

They can feel him getting more eager both on them and himself and they can’t do more but pant as the tension rapidly rises. The sound of his breaths is driving them wild in conjunction to his skillful fingerwork. They can feel him breathe down their neck.

“You wanted me to make you come, Ia?”

Ia gasps, “Ah… Make me- fuck… Yes, fuck, Cal.”

Like music to their ears, Calum has one more thing to say, “Then come like the little slut you are.”, and it sends them over the edge.

And judging by what they can feel on their ass, so was he. 

Ia pants for a few long moments and so does Calum. Calum was the first to move, pulling his hand from out of their trousers and letting go of them. He collapses on top of one of the crates beside them, still breathing heavily. Ia turns around and slides onto the floor to sit next to him, eyes still blurry and their breathing heavy. They are both staring at nothing as Ia speaks up first, a stupid little grin on their face, “How about next time…”, they pat his thigh, “You shoot for my mouth? Seems cleaner.”

Calum snorts and they both chuckle weakly and Ia bumps their forehead against his knee affectionately. 

However while doing this, Ia used their sneaky fingers to pull Calum’s smoking things out of his pocket and is using his thighs as a table as they roll them each a cigarette.

“I figured we could both use another one.”

The End.

[kevinbirthday]

Critically analyzing The All For The Game series

While this may seem like a hit piece on the books I will say that I absolutely adore the books beyond even my own comprehension. I own multiple pieces of fan merch of characters created by Nora and this series got me through incredibly tough times. I enjoy being critical of the media I enjoy so this is in no way meant to hate on Nora or drive you away from reading the books. The series will forever have a special place in my heart I am just a cynical person lol.

The all for the game series really is amazing, though there is subpar writing and glaring plot holes at times. Nora took lots of ideas I’ve never really seen in any other YA novel and ran with them, hell she even had a queer couple that didn’t exist solely for queer bait. I just feel like Nora had lots of ideas and there were so many concepts and half-baked notions of what should happen that not all of them were executed correctly.

I also think her putting out the extra content that contradicts the books multiple times was a poor choice. Yes, it’s great to get questions answered about things but I think if you have to constantly go back in and explain why something happend or when, then you should have spent more time on the books development. I have strong opinions when it comes to the extra content. Part of me believes it shouldn’t exist past answering a few questions about the books, not 300 paragraphs of random reiterations of the storyline and extra side stories that contradict canon.

I think a lot of the series was based on contrived plot points and driven by too many plot devices to make the story seem like a linear progression to me. The readers of this should also read the books on their own and form their own opinions on the book. Nora doesn’t alway do things incorrectly and I will never claim she’s a terrible writer on the basis that she self published the entire series. The books were never professionally polished and I think that is part of what gives this series so much charm. Suspension of belief is needed to read this series and it does inspire feelings of “What the actual hell. Did that just happen?!” Which honestly just shows the creativity of the series and proves that you can write a book full of morally grey characters and it be successful. As stated earlier I give Nora props for never making the main characters queer relationship be the entire focus of their exsistance. She did drop the ball on that when writing Nicky Hemmick’s character.

I also believe that while Nora was amazingly creative with this series, she created a whole new sport and badass characters for Pete’s sake that’s talent. I also Nora didn’t handle many things correctly or with the tact needed to pull certain things off.

Andrew and his whole meds situation paints medication and mental illness in an extremely poor light. I think she just wanted to throw something in to cover all her bases instead of researching pills. I agree it’s not far fetched to say that Andreil never say I love you in terms of vocalizing the words to each other because of the fact that they have their own private version of the words.

What I do find extremely far fetched is that Andrew never ‘heals’. Andrew Minyard goes to therapy even after the mandatory sessions are finished. Andrew agreed to go to joint therapy sessions with his brother to work their issues out! Tell me this man is not healing. Andrew will never not have bipolar disorder because it’s not something to be cured and he most definitely has C-PTSD after all he’s gone through. Those things can’t be cured but they can be managed by having a support system, going to therapy, and talking though issues within your family system. What is Andrew Minyard doing? Exactly that. He’s managing his symptoms which is part of healing, sure he’ll never be ‘normal’ but he’s healing as a person. The mindset that someone will never heal bc of their csa and mental health issues are ‘too bad’ is literally the worst mindset to have and is so damaging!

I also understand that you have to call on some suspension of belief when it comes to Andrew’s sentencing after he protected Nicky during the fight at Eden’s, but the only case I’ve ever personally seen someone be forced to take mind altering medication after a fight and not be sent to a psych ward was in the case of a combative schizophrenic and hurt someone and the person they attacked pressed charges. I find the whole Andrew on medication ordeal both infuriating and incredibly confusing.

Another confusing thing to me is the entire characterizaton of Nicky Hemmick. Can we all agree that it was incredibly uncomfortable? He was written as an extremely stereotypical gay man with rapey ‘undertones’. Who am I kidding with undertones he shoved drugs down Neil’s throat with his tounge and can’t take no as an answer. This being said, I do love Nicky’s character. I just don’t think that someone who was subjected to conversion therapy no matter if they had some to help them work through their internalized homophobia, would act so flamboyantly during the 2000’s. There were still commercials about not calling people gay as a insult, Paris Hilton had to tell people to use the word stupid instead. He was also one of the only explicitly stated characters as being a person of color and while I’d never say that Nora had racist intent behind that writing him as an extremely predatory gay man always rubbed me in an uncomfortable way.

At least he had some semblance of a back story though, due to Mr. Unreliable Narrator Neil Josten it felt like some characters were there just to prove that character’s besides the monsters, a few of the upperclassmen, and riko existed. Riko’s villain status seemed like it was something to make more of an immediate threat to Neil than Nathan. We had to have some reason for Kevin to be with the foxes and to go to a team so ranked down other than just Wymack being his father. What was Riko really there for other than to tell Neil that the Moriyama’s think he’s their property and then get shot in the head? I also think his death was just to wrap things up neatly and provide closure to the reader that all the ‘bad guys’ are gone. Evermore mostly served to further Neil and Andrew’s relationship and to provide extra drama. Nathan was too out of site out of mind to provide any suspense or drama for the readers. Riko was more of a plot device than a character in my personal opinion. We also only have the bare bones of almost all of the upperclassmen’s back stories. All we really know about the upperclassmen is that Dan used to be a stripper and her stage name was Hennessy, Matt’s dad sucked and he was an addict in the past and Andrew was the reason he went to rehab, Renee was in a gang and is a reborn Christian, Allison had an ed and was disowned and who cares about Seth because he was just killed to bring the foxes together. Was the team so dysfunctional Nora had to kill a man to get them to work together? I feel like his death could have been avoided and was completely meaningless. I enjoyed the the books but at times it was a complete information overload and I can’t even imagine how Neil felt in the situation when I as a reader will never had to deal with that firsthand.

[xinanlide]

hey dash people and tag people!! hope everyone is doing alright! i’ve been really itching to write, and have had quite a lot of muse lately so...here goes nothing?

some bare bones universes/muses/dynamics i’d like to plot out/flesh out/have inspo for...

i have a kim taehyung fc muse who hears ghosts and tries his hardest to help them move on. supernatural themes, potentially horror. blurb: he's in the business of talking to ghosts. or, more appropriately, he's in the business of helping them move on. they talk to him, and he usually doesn't talk back to them unless he needs to. find him down a side road off of a main road, in a small little shop that has room in the back for his humble lifestyle.

fire emblem: three houses au: yeah yeah yeah i’m late i KNOW i just got a switch, okay!!! could be set in that universe with ocs, or we could take on versions of the already present characters!

heist au: i have a former specialized safe-cracker career criminal muse that is super bitter now that most safes/security systems are tech/electronic based, and that their specialty is starting to fade aka become less relevant. so, since crime is all she’s ever known in her life, she’s now that person who knows a guy who knows a guy who can get you what you need. big chip on her shoulder, kind of bitchy & bitter, but enter her foil, and it’ll be a fun time!

magical realism/urban fantasy au: i have a muse who has a natural affinity for alchemy-type magic, but it’s considered taboo so he’s kept it under wraps and only does it selectively for the black market. uses black chalk to draw his circles and signs, and a big part of his character design is that he has lots of tattoos all over his arms as spell references. chip on his shoulder, not a bad guy, but pretty gruff and disillusioned by the way their society works/runs.

modern gods au: i have a reincarnated funeral director who’s got the soul of mnemosyne (greek goddess of memory) inside em/in a past life. kind of more slice of life/could tie in kind of with percy jackson au or lean more slice of life, depending on what you’re into!

sense8 au: i’ve started about half a dozen threads with people about this but none of them have ever progressed past 1 or 2 replies :’c we can do short script things just...such a wonderful concept and universe, so heavily underexplored/threaded out!

atla/lok blend au: so. many. possibilities.

other random ideas: single parent au, workplace rivals dynamic, choreographers in love, friends to enemies to friends to lovers (or any variation, really), modern royalty (think arranged marriages?)

i use both eastern and western faces, so long as it fits the dynamic/makes sense for the plot! i’m comfortable and flexible with writing pretty much any type of pairing or rating, so go wild, y’all.

for a sense of my writing style/literacy you’re welcome to browse this blog or for some of my more recent stuff peek here or here! if you want i could probably also er, scrounge up a some references?? i’ll put it in a cv too if you want i’m just...so itching to write!!!

if something in this list catches your eye, or you think we could vibe well and plot something else out, feel free to send me a message via tumblr im or discord (soulshaker#5059)! cheers, guys!

[wedreamedlove]

Bai Qi - Character Study

Archiving another post from Reddit. This one is more outdated...

This post was supposed to unleash my ode to Bai Qi, my one true love, onto the world though LOL.

Spoilers include up to Chapter 15. Plus calls, dates, and ASMR in CN server. Still using JP and CN as sources here because of Elex's translation issues.

I want to start this post off by saying that I disagree with Bai Qi's archetype being a "bad boy". If anything, he's just a lone wolf or maverick. Putting aside how there's another character that fits being a bad boy to a T, the common points of a bad boy archetype are:

exudes confidence, and allows his interests to take priority

moody and paradoxical, making him hard to understand

displays an attitude, has an edge, gives girls a vicious thrill

rebel with or without a cause

likely engages in dangerous hobbies

I don't know about you guys, but Bai Qi is REALLY simple. He has basically two goals in life: upholding (mostly conventional) justice and caring for the MC (who he has devoted his life to).

He's not rebellious for the sake of sticking it to the world, he just has his own views on how justice should be carried out (and it's still on the side of light; he's not a vigilante). Maybe his motorcycle is a dangerous hobby, except he always ensures MC is safe when riding with him. Honestly, this guy is so far from being a bad boy LOL.

Heck, even the other common trope of a bad boy having a painful past that is the reason behind their nasty attitude doesn't apply to Bai Qi because he confronts his painful past and gets over it (with the MC's help) before she even officially meets him.

CHIVALRY? CHAUVINIST?

First, let's tackle the big issue: the "sexist" things Bai Qi might say. It's an inescapable fact that this game is an Asian game and (given Elex's confusion over what to localize and how you can only change the base so much) this seeps through, so there are heavily gendered concepts.

However, it should also be noted that these games for women are usually made by women in the industry. Yes, there's internalized misogyny but this isn't it here.

Coming back to Bai Qi, you have to realize that he comes from a strict military family: his father is a lieutenant general [Campus Date] and was extremely harsh, meanwhile Bai Qi describes his mother as gentle and someone who cried in the shadows for him whenever his father went off on him [Seize: Sad Thoughts Call]. It paints the image of his mother being a dodder flower, the classic housewife.

Then, after his mother's death in high school when he was 15 years old [CN Character Profile], he went to join the special forces. Undoubtedly, this was another environment where he's surrounded by men and military ideals. And yet, through all of this, not only does he keep his own idea of justice, but he comes out WITHOUT looking down at women.

"Bai Qi is excellent and one day he will be the "sharp blade" of the special forces. The only pity is that he is too attached to the justice in his own heart, and he's blinded his own eyes. But at the same time I am looking forward to what direction his convictions will take him to." - Commander Leto

[CN Character Profile]

Gavin's character type is being the quintessential male.

But he's completely supportive of MC's work, helps her out with her production shows, and sends her to and from work whenever he has the time. He never disparages her work.

In [Seize: Sad Thoughts Call], there is a point where MC tells him that she'll always be by his side and he can rely on her. Bai Qi chuckles through his tears (ZHANG JIE! YOUR VOICE!!) and says "Silly, I'm a man. You should leave these sort of words to me. But, hearing you say this, makes me really happy."

I think it's doing Bai Qi a disservice to think he's being sexist here. Perhaps, you can feel sorry that this sort of standard of masculinity is something he upholds but I'd argue that he was making a joke to break up the heavy mood and he doesn't say ANYTHING about her not being allowed to say that. Instead, he's actually happy to hear that from her. He openly shows his emotions to her here about his past and sorrow. Again, considering his military upbringing and his mother, it's probably engraved in his bones to do his best to take care of his loved ones.

Look, some people just have dominant personalities and Bai Qi is one of them. He's probably one of the closest of the men to being classically masculine, but the way he's an enormous puppy for the MC breaks him out of the stereotype. (Like how Victor is the classical CEO, but his Souvenir side breaks him out of that stereotype).

Going along with, what I'd call his chivalrous (NOT chauvinist) attitude, is how natural his actions are in taking care of the MC and being considerate of her.

In [Photoshoot 5-7], MC drops her chopsticks and Bai Qi picks it up, gives her his, and wipes hers off before using it to eat.

In [Main Story 12-13], Bai Qi shows up on his motorcycle and passes her a pastel-colored helmet. Meaning that, not only did he consider her safety, but he also went out of his way to pick a color that he thought would suit her.

In [Wish Date], MC drops a plate and it shatters but just as she bends down to clean it up Bai Qi picks her up and moves her away.

In [Warm Palms ASMR], Bai Qi keeps MC comfort by sitting beside the bed on the ground to look over his documents. He doesn't assume he can just get on the bed and actually double-checks before he does.

In [Gentle Touch CN ASMR] Bai Qi is concerned about MC getting tired from standing on tiptoes to help him shave and tells her to stand on his feet. Later, he boosts her up onto the sink counter.

TRACKING BRACELET; PROTECTIVENESS

Tackling the second big issue: the tracking bracelet and Bai Qi's "overprotectiveness". Honestly, if anyone is overprotective in this game though it's definitely Li Zeyan LOL. Bai Qi may take second place, but that's still far below Li Zeyan.

Anyway, addressing the tracking bracelet first, I think it's interesting that, after Bai Qi gives MC the tracking bracelet in Chapter 2 and the events happen, he gives MC the [CH2 Story Call: Tracking Bracelet] and there he asks MC if she's at home. I don't know how the English version did it but in Chinese, after MC reminds him that he sent her home just an hour ago and did he forget, you hear him clear his throat awkwardly and then he says "Oh, I was just making sure. Don't go out anymore tonight." Hm, wouldn't he know she was at home already if he was using the tracking?

In [CH5 Story Call: Production Show Investigation] Bai Qi calls and asks "Are you home yet?". Hey, again, wouldn't he know if he was tracking her? He knows MC went to the orphanage and implies that he knows she went there because of the bracelet. But here's another thought: he was clearly investigating the old orphanage because he appears there later in Chapter 6 to save MC. So, perhaps he and the special forces already had surveillance on the old orphanage and the surrounding area.

In [Main Story 12-18] Bai Qi hears that MC is in the hotel and panics and asks the reception for her. If he was using the tracking bracelet, wouldn't he know exactly where she is? For something that everyone feels like he's violating MC's privacy with, he barely seems to use it for its actual function LOL.

It happens again in [Starry Date], although you can argue dates might be different, but MC pranks him in a call and, at the end, he asks her for the address of the karaoke place she's at so he can pick her up. If he was tracking her he wouldn't need to ask the address now, would he? She's definitely wearing the bracelet in dates because in [Trio Date] Bai Qi reminds her to have the bracelet on.

On a side note, I also find it interesting that he never FORCES the MC to wear the bracelet. In [Main Story 12-11] in Chinese he strokes the bracelet gently and then says "Remember to wear it". It's always said as a suggestion, as if he thinks that she does take it off at times but he doesn't press her to constantly wear it.

In [Main Story 15-4], Bai Qi reveals that even without the bracelet he can still find MC so it's not a tracking bracelet. I'm sure he thought implying that was the only way for him to give her that bracelet.

Now, regarding his protectiveness, he doesn't actually limit or cage the MC in anyway:

In [CH5 Story Call: Production Show Investigation] he suggests for her to avoid the orphanage but considering they meet again in Chapter 6, he clearly didn't do anything to stop her.

In [Photoshoot 5-1] MC has to interview a criminal and Bai Qi is there to escort her, but he doesn't stop her from going to meet the man. Because she's working and he knows better than to interrupt her.

In [Follow-Up Date], I agree that MC did something crazy by following him in, but he doesn't freak out at her afterward. He scolds her and whatnot but then calms down.

In [Seize: About Film Studio Call] Bai Qi picks MC up and removes her out of the shooting location because a bomb threat was called in. But he apologizes immediately when he realizes what he did, recognizing he was wrong for doing that, and actively works with MC and includes her into evacuating the rest of her employees.

In [Main Story CH12] Bai Qi brings MC to the special forces base and gets her involved with everything he's investigating after he gets permission. Heck, even when there was that rogue soldier, he just shuffles the MC into a corner and then goes to subdue the person.

Actually, in [Main Story 12-11] MC notes that this is the first time Bai Qi has said she's "forbidden" from going outside. This is when things get really crazy and Evols are going out of control, so it's not a surprise he wants her to stay put while he investigates the hotel. But this also shows that all the times before Bai Qi has never said anything forceful to MC and has only ever advised her not to wander around recklessly.

None of these are actions of a person who is crazily overprotective. Someone like that (cough Li Zeyan cough, at least until he calms down) would have locked her up in a room and kept her ignorant so she doesn't get any thoughts to run off and investigate things. Bai Qi tries his hardest to grant her wishes, within reason, and tries to answer any questions she has as long as he's free to do so. (And hey, no one talks about Li Zeyan's SP guard detail or Luoluo being able to track her through surveillance cameras; Xu Mo already got attacked for this so I won't bring the poor man up LOL).

Look, despite Bai Qi's maverick attitude, he still is part of a military organization and needs to follow orders. It makes sense too considering his military upbringing and no doubt, as long as it's not outrageous or touches his bottom line (the MC and sacrificing lives), he'll obey orders.

His joining of the special forces symbolizes the difference of his justice compared to his father. He will not give up on someone for any reason. If a sacrifice is necessary, then he will choose to face it alone.

[CN Character Profile]

But, anyway, he is protective to a certain degree and it's understandable considering how alone he's been since 15 years old and how in [Seize: Sad Thoughts Call] Bai Qi reveals that he feels like everyone he gets close to leaves him in the end (the death of his mother, his younger brother, his father (before he threw this man into the garbage bin where he belongs)).

He's also probably seen a lot of deaths of his comrades in the special forces. Heck, in [Main Story 12-6] Guzheng talks about a mission where the only people who survived was him and Bai Qi, and him only because Bai Qi came and saved him.

So, now that he's reunited with his one and only love again, you bet he's going to try and protect her. Not only is it in his blood, with his military upbringing, but also because he's just that sort of person. A trustworthy man who is determined to protect his loved ones without any sacrifices (or taking on all the sacrifices onto his own body).

HIS ENTIRE BEING IS ATTUNED TO MC

Okay, now that we got all the ugly things out of the way, this section is just for me to gush about what a gigantic soft puppy Bai Qi is with the MC. He's a tough, indifferent, lone wolf police on the streets, but an enormous puppy in the sheets in front of the MC.

Catch me crying every time over this Bai Qi Wish Date art by Honey Dogs because that's what Bai Qi is constantly doing everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

Like the art above shows, in [Wish Date] Bai Qi uses his third wish to stand in the corner and watch MC as she prepares his birthday meal. He's just a puppy who wants to be as close as possible! Watching his loved one! There's amazing description about the gentle smile in his eyes.

In [Prank Date] Bai Qi catches MC's eyes immediately when she just looks over at him across the room.

In [Follow-Up Date] Bai Qi saw MC trying to give him something, before that policewoman came up and tried to give him food and scared off MC.

In [Main Story 12-13] Bai Qi is just standing outside but he spins around the moment MC comes out of her building as if he sensed her. His eyes also creases when he smiles at her.

In [Main Story 7-4] when MC bumps into Bai Qi at their school, she sees him just standing there with his hands in his pocket and quietly watching her. A smile surfaces in his eyes when they accidentally ask each other why the other is here at the same time and then he waits for her to continue first.

In [Makeup Challenge CN ASMR] Bai Qi reveals that he watches MC put on her makeup quite a bit. He doesn't get all the products right, and he doesn't know what they're all for, but he gets a gold star for trying LOL. I'm just imagining Honey Dog art again with him leaning against the bathroom door watching MC with heart eyes. But also, when he takes her into an area with more light to put on her makeup, he just spends some time looking into her eyes because they're pretty in the light.

In [His Fingertips CN ASMR] Bai Qi notices that MC has pierced her ears. She did it to match him and the affection in his sigh as he calls her silly. SOBS. He also decides to get her matching earrings as a gift next time instead of a bracelet. On another note, in his birthday stroll, MC and him end up getting her clip-on earrings. CUTE.

In [Gentle Touch CN ASMR] Bai Qi is again over the moon with seeing her at such a close distance when she's helping him shave. He's also a gigantic puppy nuzzling her hand when she checks her work by smoothing her palms across his jaw.

In [Caressing His Face CN ASMR] Bai Qi again reveals that he watches MC go about her bathroom rituals. He sees the skincare she puts on her skin and, although not knowledgeable, is totally game with letting her play by putting it on him. AGAIN, with the nuzzling, because her hands feel too nice.

Don't touch me I'm so tender for how concentrated Bai Qi's attention is on the MC whenever she's around. Honestly, the way he's so openly honest and genuine about his feelings for the MC is what strikes him out for the bad boy archetype.

SHORTCOMINGS

Anyway, to be fair, we have to look at some of Bai Qi's shortcomings and "flaws" now. Bai Qi isn't perfect. Heck, no one is, which is what makes these characters feel complex and developed. However, his shortcomings or flaws certainly don't make him a toxic person (or else, we'd all be toxic people with our idiosyncrasies that other people don't like, lol).

Bai Qi can be really rude to people who aren't the MC. Not to mention, he tends to resort to violence and threats to people he really, really doesn't care about.

In [Relieving Date] Bai Qi tells the people who were hitting on the MC to scram unless they want to be beaten to a pulp.

In [Slightly Drunken Date] Bai Qi tells the bassist to take his beer and leave if he doesn't want his arm broken.

In [Moments] I believe Bai Qi nearly threw (or did throw) Minor over his shoulder when he was touched on the back? Minor also, at one point, says that Bai Qi nearly punched him a few times or something?

Fortunately, he doesn't go overboard with his force. But I can totally see how some people wouldn't be impressed with someone who chooses violence as an answer or threat. I'm totally a-okay with this, but then again I think characters with body counts are attractive so I'm not one to speak about this being a positive thing LOL.

But, despite being rude, he knows when to draw a distinction and be professional. For example, in [Follow-Up Date], he treated the policewoman with the bare minimum courtesy, despite being indifferent. He chews her out for endangering people in the field, but he doesn't do anything more than that.

In [Campus Date], it's shown that he beat up and got beaten up in high school, although those people sounded like they were part of a gang, so it wasn't like they were upstanding citizens LOL. However, there was that kid who stole the cash register money and got beaten up by Bai Qi, who then took the money to spend on something he wanted. This surprised me since he ends up working with the police and special forces to uphold justice, but well I'll just paste a section in his profile here:

Bai Qi has many informant friends that belong in the gray zone, and he often breaks what's known as the rules of convention. He uses methods that don't look so "just" to achieve his goals. Because of this, there's many people who can't understand him and feel that his actions are inappropriate. Towards all these misunderstandings, Bai Qi doesn't bother to explain and doesn't care. Even if no one understands, he will use his own ways to protect his convictions.

[CN Character Profile]

He's not squeaky clean, but I'd say he still stands mostly on the morally upright side (cough maverick archetype cough). In fact, he's a huge proponent for the preciousness of life and I guess almost how everyone has an inherent worth in them, which is ironic considering how little he applies it to himself. But, hey, it's normal to have different standards for other people compared to yourself.

Anyway, moving on, Bai Qi's protectiveness over the MC CAN get the better of him, but he apologizes immediately. I mentioned it above already but in [Seize: About Film Studio Call] Bai Qi apologizes for his actions of forcibly removing the MC to protect her.

Continuing on, because I see it brought up, there's the opinion that Bai Qi lacks personality because he has no opinions when it comes to MC. I'm going to argue here that this focus is on the wrong thing.

Bai Qi has a LOT of opinions (such as how best to protect MC, etc.) but his personality is the type not to care about what he considers "small details" which is why he's content to let MC make the decisions on what to eat (because he has no strong preference for food) and do the things she finds fun.

Actually, in [Your Loving Eyes: The Best Gift Call] MC is trying to get Bai Qi a present, but he just says "Sure" to everything she suggests until MC chides him saying "Hey, why is everything good? When did you lose your opinion?". In Chinese, you can hear Bai Qi respond with a startled and amused "Really?". It's clear that he doesn't believe this is the case either.

It's completely fine for that not to be your thing (which is why we have three other eligible bachelors), but it's reading Bai Qi's character wrong to think this makes him have no personality.

You can even see in [Moments], that Bai Qi does arrange for some outings, such as taking MC out to the arcade to play games. He also suggests going to look at the stars a lot, because he's an astronomy boy.

Hobbies #2: Astronomy. He likes the stars, and once did some research on them. He also really enjoys soaring through the night sky, the feeling of looking up at the stars, and Jupiter.

[CN Character Profile]

However, despite this not being that big of a deal in my eyes, Bai Qi and MC do get development in this area which is what makes their relationship so nice. A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP. Cough, sorry I had to get that out.

In [CN SSR Crisis: Art of Speaking Call] Bai Qi is taking MC out on a date and she is conflicted over what shoes to wear, the hair clip to use, and the purse to bring. She asks him for his opinion, but he keeps saying that they're all good, as long as she likes it. But MC gets annoyed and tells him that it sounds like he's being perfunctory and doesn't care.

This takes him aback and he hurriedly tells her that wasn't his intention. He genuinely thinks those things. But he realizes that she does want to hear his opinion, so he strives to give her a choice, even if it barely makes a difference for him because he thinks she looks good in everything. The two end up promising to not say any "sure" or "whatever" that day, so that they answer each other with an opinion.

In [SSR Heat up: Pretty Boy Call], you also see Bai Qi getting called out for answering "whatever" to everything. He immediately works to correct his opinion and says he'll wear whatever she picks.

Honestly, the reason he's so happy to go along with MC is explained in his [Mediterranean Date] where he literally says "The missed holidays, the dates I couldn't make, and the many times I had to disappear without being able to tell you... I've never had the time to make up for all of these things. So, no matter what we do, no matter where we go, as long as the person beside me is you, I won't have a single objection.".

Lastly, I think the real issue with Bai Qi is that he has a terrible sense of self-worth. It doesn't express itself in him being timid or not confident, but in the way he's reckless with his own health. ESPECIALLY when it comes to the MC.

In [Campus Date] there's a line that goes "She probably didn't know that her piano saved the youth who was about to fall into an abyss of darkness, and she had no way of knowing that this youth swore to protect her with his entire life". On one hand, romantic, on the other hand... oh boy, Bai Qi has really devoted his life to the MC and he's a man who doesn't change his stance once he decides on something, and here are some instances:

In [Endless Abyss: Beside You Call] Bai Qi comes back from a mission and decides to send MC to work. He just came back from a mission and hasn't slept for an entire day, but he wants to see her because she remarked on how they haven't seen each other for a while and he feels the same. HELLO? SIR PLEASE SLEEP.

In [Bleary Dawn CN ASMR] Bai Qi has two instances of this. First, he's cuddling in bed with MC and thinks about how he should get out and go for a morning jog, but he doesn't want to leave her. MC is worried he'll catch a cold in the rain, but he says he won't since it's a light drizzle. However, MC gets upset at that and you can hear the genuine apology in his voice when he realizes that she's worried about him.

Second instance, in [Bleary Dawn CN ASMR] is when they chat about whether Bai Qi has ever slept in. His family didn't allow that (SCREW HIS FATHER) and then he joined the military so even less so. He never feels sleepy though since he sleeps early. However, if he can't sleep then he just goes through the entire night without sleeping. MC worries about him, he tries to brush it off again saying it's no problem, she gets upset, and he startles and gets genuinely apologetic again. SOBS please Bai Qi learn to treasure yourself.

In [Main Story 12-11] Bai Qi gets injured when he was subduing the out-of-control Evol soldier, but he doesn't seem to even notice it until MC brings it up and wants to treat it for him at her house. He even reluctantly shows her his arm.

It's understandable because his DOUCHE FATHER has treated him terribly throughout his life. In [Campus Date] we get a memory from Bai Qi about his father literally saying "Such a useless thing has no point in existing". Ever since his mother passed away (at age 15!) he's been alone.

Fortunately, like I mentioned at the start, Bai Qi gets over most of this trauma in [Campus Date] with the help of MC. But the marks still linger and it's not until he's 24 years old at [Main Story 12-18] where he asserts that his existence is absolutely not a disgrace/stain that he fully gets over his father's specter. Still, Bai Qi's pretty reckless with his health.

Anyway, both MC and Bai Qi need to realize that the best thing you can do for your loved ones is to take care of yourself, because your happiness and health is their happiness and health. Support each other, but treating yourself well for them is the best thing to do.

CONCLUSION

Overall, while Bai Qi is a lone wolf and maverick in public, he's the sweetest puppy around the MC. He's terribly reckless with his health (he's been trained to be a weapon and, no doubt, his father still haunts him), but he's slowly overcoming that with the MC. She also encourages him to be more expressive of his opinions, no matter how small or insignificant he feels they are (re: the things he really couldn't care less about).

In return, he gives MC courage to walk her own path no matter what anyone else says. His easy confidence and ability to ignore the gaze of the world is something that's admirable.

The two of them just provide each other unconditional love and support and it's gorgeous. She can act however she wants with him and he'll take it in stride and accept her. He doesn't want her to change, and neither does she for him. But together they encourage each other to express their opinions and feelings to each other more.

Anyway, congratulations to anyone who read all the way down to this point. You deserve a Bai Qi SSR and may you be blessed with Bai Qi pulls---. I also hope this provides a better understanding of Bai Qi and more appreciation for his character.

I didn't touch on Bai Qi's hobbies or character apart from the MC much, unfortunately, because the focus of this post was about his relationship with MC and his character around that. But, trust me, he has a lot of hobbies for himself! He's just low-key in the way he expresses those (cause he's too loud in beaming heart eyes at the MC), so it's like a "blink and you miss it".

His official weibo shows a ton of his hobbies though, like taking care of his (eternally dying) cacti. He has a hedgehog! He loves basketball (and other sports). He plays the guitar and sings. He loves astronomy.

[shitsngiggles666]

We will now discuss Leopard describing the Camily as a cult, a statement that the “Camily” mocks. When she called the Camily a “cult” I doubt she meant the “Satanic Cults” of media panics of the 1980s, when the public feared teenagers joining cults to worship Satan using secret rituals and performing sacrifices using animals or children. It’s also possible that the Camily is confusing the word “cult” with “occult”. On Cameron’s Instagram he posted what appears to be a sigil surrounded by bottles of body lotion (probably a reference to one of Leopard’s ruder anonymous asks). The caption reads “How to summon the cam cult” This post has lead me to believe the Camily may have misunderstood what Leopard was referring to. For one thing, there’s a difference between “occult” and (a) cult. Occult (literally meaning “hidden”) refers to knowledge of the supernatural and metaphysical. The picture of the sigil and body lotion recalls the image of summoning Satan. A sigil is any symbol used to invoke magic. In the photo it’s the circle. The most famous sigil is the five pointed star contained in a circle, the pentacle (a pentagram is when the star isn’t contained with in the circle. The pentacle is associated with summoning Satan, and often depicted with candles (which the bottles of lotion seem to substitute). However, occultism doesn’t necessary involve rituals to summon demons. Witchcraft, alchemy, tarot card reading, fortune telling and astrology are all occultism. Likewise, not all sigils are meant to summon demons. Norse runes are considered sigils, as they were used in Nordic magic. Sigils also aren’t exclusively used to summon demons or even for sinister purposes. For example, some are used to bring luck or protection. Likewise, there are a number of misconceptions regarding the concept of cults. The word is actually a bit difficult to fully define, and has a number of different definitions. The most bare bones definition of a cult is a group that all worship the same individual or entity. Using this definition, all religions can be considered a cult. To specify, some would use a modified definition in which a cult is “a religious movement which deviates from a larger, more established religion. For example, Mormonism, Mormons believe in Jesus Christ as the son of God. Mormons are considered “deviants” because they hold many beliefs that aren’t widely believed by Christians, such as the veneration of their prophet, Joseph Smith. Today, the Mormon church is widely accepted as a legit religion, at least the United States. The modern day usage of “cult” has a very negative concoction, and is often used to criticize organizations. Leopard definitely criticized the Camily, but she isn’t wrong and is definitely correct. The Camily share many similarities with how a psychologist or sociologist would define a cult. For a sociologist, a group can be considered a cult if it meets three criteria: 1) The group holds beliefs considered unorthodox or deviant to society as a whole 2) The group hold excessive admiration and devotion to a certain individual or idea 3) The group’s members use unethical or manipulative tactics to benefit their leader and group. In my opinion, the Camily meets 2/3 of the criteria (#2 and #3) and I will give examples of the Camily’s actions that fill these criteria. What I found most striking is that the Camily met a good number of sociology’s criteria for a cult to be considered dangerous: a) Members show unquestionable devotion to their leader and group b)The leader and group manipulates its members c) The group is led by a charismatic leader whom the cult perceives as special due to a special knowledge and/or relationship to something the members highly value d) This leader dictates how the group should act, feel and/or think e) The group leader isolates the cult’s members f) The cult’s members have their daily activities carefully controlled g) A culture of “reporting” of any members that show “disloyalty to the leader and cult. Based on my knowledge of the Camily they meet six out of eight of this list, it is reasonable to compare the Camily to a dangerous cult. Note that two of the criteria is inapplicable as the Camily doesn’t live in a communal setting and mainly interact via social media. In later posts, I will elaborate further using examples of the Camily’s behavior to back up my comparisons to a cult. In the mean time, I ask anyone from the Camily who are offended or in disagreement with me to contact me. As with my other posts, I encourage Camily members to show this to their leader Cameron and have him read it live on stream. If Cameron thinks I’m wrong or being a bully have his mother read this. Should she disagree or think I’m bullying her son help her pm me.

[amydancepants-peralta]

your skin and bones (turn into something beautiful)

(kinda just scraping in with a Valentines/baby making love fest for our favourite couple - big thanks to @amyscascadingtabs for her Harry Potter translations, and @fezzle for being as awesome as she is.  😁🌟

* NSFW *  (ao3)

your skin and bones (turn into something beautiful)

The soles of Jake Peralta’s sneakers scuff against the wooden rungs of the staircase as he makes his way up to the apartment, making special effort to avoid that one section that always seems to groan under his weight.  The toneless whistle of a song he loves echoes through the stairwell, and he raises his right hand in silent greeting as a neighbour passes him on their way out.

Today was Valentines Day, and he’s finished the day with a specific mission in mind.  

In his left hand he carries a bag, surprisingly not heavy considering the amount of things inside - but maybe that’s just because of how jacked up he’s gotten lately (seriously, Brad Pitt - you’re going to need to get into shape, bro).  He’s got candles (vanilla scented, and the brand his wife loves), silk ties, lube, whipped cream, rose petals and a well-curated playlist of perfectly sexy songs that have never been sung by Doug Judy.  It’s a perfect mixture of sexy-timez related products, and he has no idea how he’s going to put it all together, but one thing was clear:  he was going to romance the donk out of his wife tonight.  

He’s still humming the melody to one of the songs on his playlist as he walks through their front door, too distracted by the plans formulating in his head to notice Amy’s keys are already in the bowl he throws his own keys into.  Nudging his shoes off onto the rack by the door, and hanging his jacket on the appropriate hook (because tidiness makes Amy happy, and happy wife = happy life), Jake places the bottle of wine that he’d tucked underneath his arm onto the kitchen counter, serving himself a mental note to put it on ice in a minute as he walks through to their bedroom.

There, he finds Amy - hair pulled up into a perfectly smooth top-knot, the kind that only appears when she’s in Super Organisational Amy mode - sitting at the desk that ran along the back wall of their bedroom, head bowed in concentration.  He hears the familiar stretch and snap of sticky-tape being ripped across the blade of the dispenser, and knows that he’s walked into chart-marking territory.  

“Hey, babe!”  The surprise is obvious in his voice, and deep down Jake is kicking himself that he didn’t completely read the text message she’d sent him an hour ago.  In his defence, he was busy figuring out ways to surprise and seduce his wife - but one handy part of that surprise is for Amy to not be in the house right now.

“Hey yourself!” Is her reply, craning her head backwards and extending her neck for kiss hello.  It’s a little sloppy, and not at all as hot as that Spiderman movie made Jake believe an upside down kiss would be, but the upside was that he was kissing Amy, and that’s always going to be a good thing.  “I was wondering when you were going to get home, Boyle mentioned in the group chat that you’d left over an hour ago.” Amy continued, glancing curiously at the bag still in Jake’s hand before returning her attention to the chart stretched across the desk.

“Uh, yeah … I just had to get some stuff, and things …” he mumbles, mind running into overdrive as to how he can get Operation Seduction back on track.  Distraction - distraction is key, Peralta.  “Whoa, that’s a pretty intense looking chart you’ve got going on there, Ames!”

Amy’s responding smile is as bright as it is proud, and she bites her lower lip in an attempt to hold back her glee as she pats down the final addition before holding it up.  “I made up a Conception Plan.  It’s very thorough.”  Swivelling in her chair, Amy lifts herself slightly, tucking one leg under the other for leverage as she stares down lovingly at her creation.  “The purple lines are my cycle - pink is for ovulation, and the best windows of conception have the little love hearts on them.”  Jake meets her gaze with a smile, and she continues, pointing over to the left.  “This section here is for savings, with specific goals each pay packet … underneath is the dietary options we need to avoid and when - blue is you, yellow is me; and lastly we have the fitness tracker - and before you ask, chasing perps through the streets of Brooklyn doesn’t count.”

Nodding, Jake makes a counter offer.  “Even if I’ve been chasing them for a solid hour?”

“If you’ve been chasing a perp on the streets for an hour without calling for backup, that’s on you Peralta.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”  Tucking the bag behind his body slightly, Jake leans forward to study the finer details, all marked down in Amy’s obsessively neat handwriting.  “I definitely think you’ve covered all the bases here, babe.  I’m impressed!”

Glowing slightly from the praise, Amy returns the chart to the desk before resting her weight agains the back of her chair, this time facing forwards as she seeks out another kiss from her husband.  Jake is only too happy to comply,  and he lets this one run a little longer, hoping that Amy has become distracted enough to forget about his Bag of Mystery.

Alas, he is wrong.  “So what’s in the bag, detective?”

Jake can feel his skin start to heat up as his blood rushes in, and he does he very best to remain vague while simultaneously taking a few steps backwards.  “Oh, just some stuff that I was going to … never mind, nothing important really, hey how’s that new couch of ours going?”  He swallows nervously, back pressed completely up against the dresser.  “Wanna go … relax on it?”

Amy holds his gaze for a hot minute, standing and taking a single step towards him.  “How many sneakers did you buy, Jake?”

He smiles, feeling a rush of pride come over him at Amy’s incorrect assumption.  “None, actually.”  She stares him down, and it only takes another thirty seconds for him to cave.  “Okay, fine.  I might have been trying to surprise you with some things in here.  It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”

Her eyebrows raise, and she gives him that adorably sweet smile that has always, always been a favourite.  “You did?  Let me see!”

Shrugging, Jake holds the bag to his side but doesn’t protest as Amy begins to pull the handles towards her.  “I mean, I hadn’t really figured out what I was going to do with all of it yet, but it seemed like a pretty good place to start, and ..”

“Hey, you got the good ones!”  Amy interrupts, pointing at the silk restraints and grinning.  Jake nods quickly, the memory of the night they discovered how good they were never too far from his mind.  Amy might have accidentally ripped one last time, so they are due for replacement anyhow.  “And is that rose petals I see?”

“Just like on our honeymoon,” he mumbles, rubbing his free hand along the back of his neck.  

Straightening, Amy looks over at Jake, fiddling with the collar of his favourite blue checkered shirt before toying with the buttons near his collarbone.  Her tone is light, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes when she speaks again.  “You expecting to get lucky tonight, Peralta?”

Grabbing her hand and squeezing, Jake shakes his head quickly.  “Never expecting, Ames.  I just thought … it’s probably stupid, but I thought that maybe tonight would be a really sweet night to for us to make a baby.”

Smiling, Amy lifts herself up slightly, leaving a gentle kiss against Jake’s lips.  “That would be a really sweet timeline, but I’m not really ovulating right now …”

The paper bag falls from Jake’s hand, hitting the floor with a tiny thud as his hands move to Amy’s waist, fingers tracing against the soft material of her leggings before linking behind her back.  “You know, a very wise - and very beautiful - woman once told me, that practice makes perfect.”

A tiny blush spreads onto Amy’s cheeks, and she smiles bashfully.  “She does sound very wise.”  

“Oh, she’s incredible.  Not gonna lie, she makes me heart pound just a little bit every time she smiles at me.  I’m crazy in love with her.  But, I haven’t even told you the best part.”  Loosening his grip, Jake’s hands slide deftly underneath Amy’s vintage academy shirt, making soft strokes against the skin he finds there.  “She makes the best charts you’ve ever seen.  So informative, so organised … so thorough.  And her binders?  Don’t even get me started.”

He only hears a mumbled oh god that’s hot before Amy’s lips are pressed against his, leaning down slightly to meet her kiss as she throws her arms around his neck.  

Her tongue is insistent against his, working Jake into a solid state of arousal without a great deal of effort, but that just comes down to the power his wife has on him.  His name comes out in a breathy moan as they part, tucking her head into his neck and beginning a line of tiny kisses, and without hesitation Jake bends his knees slightly, grabbing Amy’s legs and lifting before throwing her gently onto their bed.  

She’s dragging her shirt off before Jake can even climb up to join her, and he grins as it lands on the floor beside her bed, wrapping his arms around her newly bare waist and pulling her in for another deep kiss.  There’s just something about kissing Amy that he just loves - it’s an activity he hopes to do every day until the end of his days - and tonight is no stranger to the rule.  As her left hand runs through his hair, her right reaches down to rub against his growing erection, her lips curling against his as he lets out an uncontainable moan of pleasure.  “Oh god, Ames.”

Sliding his palm up the centre of her spine, Jake reaches the clasp of her bra and tries his very best to do the ‘smooth one-handed undoing of the bra’ trick that he occasionally nails.  Contracting her shoulder blades, Amy lifts herself up slightly to help him, letting out a soft chuckle at the victorious look on Jake’s face when the two ends seperate.  In mere seconds, her bra is on the floor next to her shirt, and Jake’s breath grows faster as his wife’s fingers make quick work of the buttons running down his own shirt.

His nose gets caught in the neckline of his undershirt as he yanks it off far too quickly, and he lets out a frustrated growl - turning into a smile when he sees Amy biting her lip to keep from laughing.  Then her warm hands are on the back of his neck, pulling Jake back down to her lips, and as their tongues tangle their legs follow suit.  

Amy wraps her calves around Jake’s, pushing her pelvis up to grind against the denim that still separates them, and Jake pulls away with a groan, leaving a mixture of kisses and licks to the side of her neck as he sighs - “You’re so sexy, Ames - it’s killing me.”

Her hands slide down his back, snaking around the belt line of his pants and focusing on the top button, popping it undone with the flick of her thumb.  “Jeans off, babe.  You and I are going to make a baby.”

The statement makes Jake’s heart switch into overdrive, and as he plants his knees on the mattress to help Amy push his jeans (and boxers, she’s nothing if not efficient) completely off, he leans his upper body towards his wife, resting his forehead against hers as her wriggling legs kick her leggings onto the floor.  Her eyes are piercing into his own as she holds his gaze, and Jake leans in for a chaste kiss before pulling back ever so slightly.  “We’re going to make a baby,” he repeats.  

Amy smiles, the sheer excitement of things to come obvious in her eyes as she tilts her chin upwards, meeting Jake’s lips halfway for another tiny kiss.  “I love you so much, Jake Peralta.”

Jake’s responding grin could light up the room, and he pulls Amy in for a heated kiss.  He loves her: he really, truly, endlessly loves her; and now they’re going to make a family and watch them grow, and he’s not sure if what he’s about to say is enough, but it’s the only thing he can think of right now and so he breaks the kiss, looking into her eyes as he tells her - “I love you too, Ames.  So much.”  

Her arms return to his neck, kissing him with a mixture of fierceness and passion that only Amy Santiago can bring, and honestly life right now cannot get better (but then her hips push up, and he feels the soft fabric of her underwear rub against his cock, and life is instantly infinitely better). 

Starting a chain of kisses that begin at the edge of Amy’s mouth and dot along her jawline, Jake shuffles slightly down, leaving gentle nips against her collarbone as he descends.  By now, Amy’s head has pushed further into the pillow, her once neat bun now a frazzled mess as she twists her neck to the feeling of her husband’s lips against her skin.  

Bypassing her breasts, Jake follows the subtle line of her torso down towards her stomach, sighing against her skin as he leaves feather-light kisses against his favourite spots.  This was the body of the woman he loves, the woman that he’s pledged to the world that he will spend the rest of his life loving, and he knows her canvas better than his own.  He knows the tiny flecks of moles and scars that make up who she is, has studied and memorised the map of her curves (and travels them often).  His breath is hot against her skin, causing shivers to rise up as his tongue circles the edge of her belly button, and all Jake can think of is how soon, this body that he knows so well will be changing day by day.  That life will be growing inside of Amy - a life that is wholly theirs, the ultimate chance for new beginnings - and the only thing that scares him now is how can his heart possibly grow any bigger?

Running his palm along Amy’s lower back, Jake makes his way back up to her chest, running the tip of his nose against of her left breast, and Amy sighs his name in reverence.  For a second, he remembers that all of the items he’d purchased for the express purpose of seducing his wife are still sitting unforgotten in their carry bag, and he smiles.    

“So, I’ve been thinking.”  Jake begins, circling her nipple with his tongue and scraping his teeth across the erect point, glancing up in time to watch Amy shiver under his touch.  “This whole baby making thing.  I think we should definitely do this whole conception planning thing the Amy way …  but in a minute, I’m going to show you the Jake way.”

“Mmm … yes, the Amy way sounds good,” Amy moans, moving one hand into Jake’s hair and curling the strands around her fingers.  

Starting a line of kisses from the middle of Amy’s chest, Jake works his way down his wife’s torso, paying special attention to the point on her hip that only a week ago housed a bruise from work.  “We’re going to run things to a very specific schedule,” he whispers into her belly, kissing the edge of her ribs.  “Reduce our alcohol intake, check your basal temperature every morning…” Reaching her underwear, Jake presses a kiss against the moisture he finds there, pulling back slightly as Amy’s hips jerk up towards his touch.  “Actually start using that gym membership we’ve been paying for.”

Amy’s grip on his hair increases, and her hips lift upwards again in a silent beg for her underwear to be removed completely.  Tucking his fingers into the edges, Jake complies with her request, tugging the material off and casting it behind him before returning his attention to Amy, totally unable to wipe the smile off his face as the evidence of just how aroused she was is now completely evident.  

“Jake …”

Kissing the inside of her thigh, Jake rests his cheek against her leg for a moment, temporarily caught up in the feelings rising up from the combination of Amy’s fingers scraping against his scalp and the burning look in her eyes as she watches him move closer and closer to where she wants him so desperately.  “I’m going to start eating more vegetables, and those nuts you were telling me about …” He leans forward, kissing her just to the right of where he knows she wants him to kiss her.  “I’m even going to drink more water for you, babe.”  At that, he attaches his lips to her clit, sucking gently in the way that he knows will drive her crazy, and Amy’s head disappears completely into the pillow as she lets out a strangled moan.  

His fingers join in shortly after, gathering the wetness they find there and circling her clit gently, and when Amy’s hips lift clear off the bed Jake flicks his wrist, using his nimble thumb to continue the circles while his fingers dip inside her core.  It never stopped being amazing, watching his so neatly put together wife fall apart at the seams from his touch, listening to her call out swear words that truly nobody would ever believe her to say.  While one hand stays to work Amy up, Jake reaches down with his other, gripping his dick and succumbing to the need for a few short strokes up and down.  He knew that normally Amy would be 100% down for returning the favour, but right now all he could think about was pushing deep inside his wife and letting his instincts take over.

It doesn’t take long for Amy to be completely worked up, and Jake isn’t entirely sure if it’s all from his actions or a leftover response to Organised Chart Making, but either way he’s counting it as a win when her fingers tighten in his hair, pulling just hard enough that it should probably hurt, throwing her legs open wider as the sensations clearly begin to overtake her.

Reaching her free hand back to tug distractedly at the elastic in her hair, Amy cranes her neck back as it all falls away, choosing to grip the sheets as she moans what Jake thinks might be his name.  He returns his tongue back to her clit, lapping up the evidence of her arousal, and a second later she’s climaxing, her walls pulsating against Jake’s fingers as she cries out above him.  

His hands stroke the outside of Amy’s thighs as she slowly comes down from the high, reaching up to kiss her soft lips and letting out a sigh when she seeks the taste of herself on his tongue.  “Holy mother of … babe, that was awesome.”

“Babe that was awesome, title of our sextape.”  

Amy grins, showing off her perfectly pearly whites as she raises one hand in a high five.  “Damn right it is.”  She grips his hand before he has a chance to pull away, tugging it towards her and leaving a kiss against his palm, and Jake shifts until his body is completely above her.  His erection - now painfully stiff - rubs against her bare belly, and he bites down on his lower lip in a poorly concealed attempt at hiding his need.

He really shouldn’t have bothered though, because Amy is already twisting her torso just so, using the closeness of their bodies to rub against Jake repeatedly, and THIS - this is how he’s going to go insane.  Her smile turns sly as she reaches down to take hold of him, pumping her wrist in those slow, sinuous movements that have literally made him see stars in the past.  “Ahh .. Ames … that feels so …”

Her voice is heavy, full of arousal, and her eyes draw him in deep.  “I love you, Jake.  And I love the family we’re going to make together.”

There are very few words flowing through Jake’s mind right now (in all honesty, most of the blood in his body has definitely gone further south), and it’s possible he murmurs back that he loves her too, but there’s a good chance that coherency has gone straight out the window.  Amy’s hand falls away a few moments later, and she winks at him as his eyes finally return back to focus.

“So,” she practically purrs, her legs wrapping around his waist in a perfectly practised move that lines her pelvis up with Jake’s. “You mentioned something about ‘the Jake way’?”

Digging his teeth into his lower lip, Jake dips his head to give Amy a heated kiss, pulling away just as she starts to get into it.  “The Jake way, my darling wife ..” Another kiss, and the head of his cock lines up against her entrance.  “Is me fucking you until you scream.”  At the last word, Jake thrusts forward, entering Amy in one smooth but forceful stroke, eyes trained carefully on his wife as she gasps at the sudden feeling of all of Jake inside her.  

Her fingernails are sharp as they dig into his back but Jake feels no pain - only pleasure - as he repeats his purposeful thrusts, steady and deliberately timed as Amy’s head pushes back into her pillow.  It’s harder than he usually moves, the overwhelming need to just thrust stronger than normal, but whenever his eyes flutter open they’re watching Amy carefully.  They both like this sometimes, just as much as they enjoy going gently, and he knows to listen out for the safe word they’d decided on years ago (Boyle.  A sweet man, but an instant mood killer when it comes to sex).

But there comes no protest, only moans for more, and so Jake rears up slightly, resting his forearms on the mattress and pushing harder into Amy, the sheer sensation of her muscles clenching around him sending him dangerously close to the edge.  

“Oh god, Jake … yes .. just like that.” Amy’s eyes are squeezed shut, and her legs tighten their grip around his waist as he really goes to work, lowering his hips slightly so that his pelvis brushes against her clit as he pounds into her.  “Right there babe .. don’t … don’t stop.”

Lowering his head, Jake licks a line of sweat away from Amy’s neck, unable to resist the chance to taste her any way that he can as he continues to thrust in and out, mindless declarations of love falling from both of their mouths.  One hand sliding down to grip his butt as the other returns to his hair, Amy digs in with all of her might as she stutters out a YES, pulling herself closer to Jake’s body as she screams out in climax.  

The feeling of her convulsing around him has never been something he can control his reaction to, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Jake is tumbling over the edge with her, sinking his teeth into Amy’s shoulder as he feels himself release inside her.  

Truly, if this is what practising for making a baby is going to be like, he’s going to need to clear his schedule completely.  

Their bodies are sweaty and Jake’s legs are shaking more than just a little when he finally pulls out, lungs working overtime to regulate his breathing as he collapses onto the mattress beside Amy, left arm thrown above his head in open invitation for any and all future snuggles.  

He’s still breathless when his head turns to left and catches Amy looking at him, and together they start laughing.  

Turning onto her side and pushing her sweaty hair away from her face, Amy looks at Jake like the cat who got the cream, stating - “I gotta say, I’m a really big fan of the Jake way.” 

Jake grins, resting his right hand against his chest and noticing just how hard his heart is still beating.  “I never back down from a Peralta guarantee, babe.”

Amy nods, biting her lower lip softly as her eyes travel over to the paper carry bag abandoned on the floor.  “I gotta say, you really had pulled out all the stops with your plans to make tonight romantic, babe.”  She chuckles softly.  “Even if we didn’t end up using any of it.”

Shrugging in what he can only hopes seems casual - because there are still times when praise feels foreign to him - Jake twists his mouth to the right before replying.  “I mean … if everything goes to plan, this could end up being our last Valentines Day with just the two of us.  So, I kinda figured … go big or go home, right?  Maybe I went a little overboard ..”

Grabbing the throw from the bottom of their bed and wrapping it around her back; Amy shakes her head, shuffling along the mattress until she’s resting her weight on top of Jake’s chest.  Her left arm curls up, bending at the elbow to turn into a headrest, and the feeling of Amy Santiago’s naked skin against his truly hasn’t ever lost it’s appeal.  “Nope.  You did good, babe.”  Stretching her legs out, Amy winks.  “Real good.”

“Yeah?”

Amy nods.  “So much so, that I’m going to let you do something that I didn’t think I’d ever let you do again.”

“You mean …?”

“I do mean.”  Her voice drops to a whisper.  “Go on, I know you want to.”

Nibbling slightly on his lower lip, Jake breaks out into a smile as he reaches out, cupping Amy’s cheek in his hand.  He closes the distance with a soft kiss, and then whispers as they part - “Mischief managed.”

Her eyes are rolling when he pulls away - full of love, but rolling all the same - and she laughs softly.  “It doesn’t even make sense, babe!  Mischief managed?  What are we wiping clean here, exactly?”

“It’s all part of the wonderfully wizardry magic that is making a brand new human, Ames!”

With a gentle slap Amy’s hand falls back onto Jake’s chest, her head following quickly after as she dissolves into giggles.  Her ribcage bounces against Jake’s hand as he wraps his arms around her, and briefly the memory of he makes me laugh flashes through his mind.  

“I love you so much, Amy.  And I know we obviously won’t know for sure for a while yet, but I really feel like we might have made a baby tonight.”

Amy hums, the familiar warmth of her breath tickling his chest hair as she lets out a sigh of total contentment.  “I feel like maybe we did, too.”

Jake toys with the ends of Amy’s hair, marvelling at the consistent softness of it all, and for a moment they just lay together in silence.  

He waits until Amy is stretching out towards the lamp on her beside, flicking the switch off before piping up with one last idea.  “Okay so … hear me out.  If ‘mischief managed’ is still off the table, how about … ‘Mind if I Slytherin?”

“JAKE!”

[whumpiary]

#15 from this prompt list, requested by @mildly-distressed-bee-with-knees​. this spiralled into something entirely else so i very much hope you’re not disappointed!

(also a special mention to @ashintheairlikesnow who, upon me making a vague post about whether to make this spicy or plottish she responded with the galaxy brain concept of “both?????”. thank u!)

[content warnings: starvation/food and hunger talk, implied drugging, intimate whumper, and strong strong dubcon (fade-to-black). stay safe!]

-

“I’m so hungry”

“I know, darling boy, that’s by design”

Cassius almost gives up straight away at the dismissal. He doesn’t want to argue. He doesn’t want to fight. To be honest, all he really wants to do is bring his hand up to touch the sleeve of Christopher’s cotton pullover, see if it’s as soft as it looks. Christopher never dresses formally when he’s not entertaining. He doesn’t need to. But the fabric is pretty and still probably more expensive than anything Cassius has ever owned and it looks so so soft.

And then the empty aching in his belly sends another fit of dizzy through his head and even though he’s already sitting he steadies himself against the carpet with two flat hands and reminds himself what he’s meant to be doing. 

“I want something to eat,” he says through gritted teeth, begging his voice to sound demanding “Give me something to eat”

“Have another chocolate Cassius”

“Don’t want another fuckin’ cho-”

A hand grabs him fast by the jaw, squeezing either side of his slack jaw until his lips pucker like a fish, the inside of his cheeks biting into his teeth.

“Language,” Christopher says, lowering his face to be eye to eye with his charge. Cass scowls but lets his head be lifted as Christopher’s hand slides down, holding him softly by the chin. Cassius doesn’t push away the hand or pull back like he normally might. He’s dizzy. His limbs are heavy. His head’s full of fog and stardust.

“You said you were hungry,” Christopher says, his thumb tracing lightly down Cassius’ jaw, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like another chocolate?" 

There’s the sound of crepe paper fluttering against tin foil, and Cassius’ eyes slide down, trying to focus uselessly on the burgundy tin being offered towards him. The chocolates lie in a pretty spiral; individually wrapped, intricately patterned, glistening like stars in the soft light. Cassius lifts an absent hand, barely aware of how his fingers dance along the edge of the tin, as though coaxing a wine glass to sing. It would be so easy to just pick one up and out, unwrap the pretty golden foil and let it fall to the floor, lift it to his lips and… Christopher shakes the box again impatiently and Cassius jerks his hand back with a start. The rustling seems to meet his ears half a beat too late. He blinks as his mind comes back to him.

"Are they your chocolates or mine?” Cass asks, looking up to the man at the  desk.

“Does it matter?”

Cass tries for a glare but his eyes won’t focus on anything solid, the soft light blurring and crystallising in front of his eyes. He gives up, letting his eyes drift, instead. Across the stubbled jaw, a little too softened by age to be chiseled. Across greying blonde hair, just long enough to show a wave. Across hazel eyes, almost pretty, framed by crows feet and laugh lines. Was Christopher attractive once, maybe? When he was younger? Is he still? Cassius can’t see it anymore. He can’t remember if he ever could. 

“Yes or no, Cassius?” Christopher prompts, voice hard with impatience.

“I want dinner”

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘No thank you, Christopher’”

“The words I’m looking for you banned last week”

The older man sighs deeply, seemingly exasperated, and puts the lid back in place with a hard snap, “Fine”

Cassius regrets saying no as soon as the chocolates are out of sight. His stomach lurches again, clenching around the nothing it keeps ruthlessly trying to digest. He leans his head against the leg of the desk as a fresh wave of dizziness hits him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. His head aches,  just a little, a constant pressure across the front and down the sides of his neck. He probably needs water too. But the whiskey from earlier quenched him enough that he doesn’t feel thirsty anymore. 

“I want dinner,” he repeats. Christopher’s hand slams down flat on the desk, enough to make his glass jump, landing with a little small tink. It’s a warning. A… firm suggestion.

“Enough, Cassius,” Christopher says, voice quiet, carefully level “You are in my house, and you will eat when I say you can eat”

“I just want food. I’m so hungry I can’t even think”

“Why don’t you ask me nicely, Cassius? Maybe I’ll change my mind”

Cass almost growls, almost bares his teeth like an animal and launches himself at Christopher’s face. Instead he clenches his jaw, listening to his own teeth grind together. He hates when Christopher does this. He hates having to perform like a show dog. But if it’s the line Christopher’s told him to toe. If it’s the trick that will earn him food…

“Cʜʀɪsᴛᴏᴘʜᴇʀ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜi-" 

"Uh, uh, uh. Careful. There are a lot of somethings in this room I could give you to eat,” he says, turning away from his work to look down at the boy on the floor next to him "All sorts of horrible, sickness inducing things. I’m sure that’s not you’re asking for”

“Cʜʀɪsᴛᴏᴘʜᴇʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ғᴏᴏ-”

“Are you certain that’s what you want?” he says, cupping Cassius’ chin in his hand again “The only food I have here is in that tin”

He wraps his knuckles on the ornate lid of the chocolate box. A sharp double tap. And Cass does growl then, does bare his teeth, tearing his head out of Christopher’s grip. He sits up on his knees and for a moment he doesn’t feel the nausea from the movement or the weight of the fog in his head as he fights.

“Why won’t you feed me?”

“Why won’t you ask me nicely?”

“I’ve been nice”

Christopher smiles, eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. He pushes out from the desk and leans back in his chair.

“Have you?” he asks, voice playful and teasing.

Even through the fog in his head, and the weight of his bones, and the sparkling of the light behind Christopher’s head that keeps dragging at his attention, Cassius feels a horrifying thrill surge through him at the shift of the energy in the room.

This was Christopher’s favourite new game, Cassius had realised over the last few weeks. Finding a particularly enticing opportunity for something interesting to happen and then clearing the stage so he could watch the events unfold. No direction. No orders. Just interest in what Cassius will do. Like opening your front door nice and wide, just to see if your guest will walk through the threshold without needing to be invited in. 

Cassius knows the rules of this game. He knows how to win this game. 

He props himself up, unsteady but upright, and reaches forward, a hand on either one of Christopher’s knees. Easy smile.

“I could always be nicer,” he says, voice low, looking up through his lashes. He lets his hands curl just enough around Christopher’s thighs, running up towards the belt of his jeans and then back. “If that’s what you want”

Christopher tilts his head back, keeping eye contact, parting his lips in a little sigh. Open the door. Extended invite. See how far the guest will walk past the threshold.

“You tell me, Cassius. Is that what I want?”

Cassius pulls himself up, taking advantage of the way the dizziness tilts him forward until he’s sitting on the Christopher’s lap in a lazy straddle. This kind of want is one of the easiest to feel. Base. Simple. Uncomplicated and animal. Even through the fog in Cassius’ head, continuously tilting the world off its axis, it is so so easy. Like sliding a key into its corresponding lock. He loops his arms around the older man’s neck, his face splitting in a relaxed grin as he finds the threads of Christopher’s wants, pulsing like the bass notes of a song, tangling with his own.

Darling boy- just move in to the- hope he does that thing with his tong- so hungr- when the left- darling darling boy- food give me food give me food give me- fucking delicious

Cassius plants a kiss on the corner of Christopher’s jaw. The mess in his head feels less like fog and more like a cloud he can ride higher and higher.

“I think you want it very much, sir” he sats, lips grazing against the older man’s jaw as he drops his voice low. Christopher tuts his tongue, his hands tensing along the small of Cassius’ back. 

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that”

“But you like what I do to you when I call you that,” Cass murmurs, letting his teeth find Christopher’s earlobe, letting his hips roll closer still. The older man lets out a low hum of agreement and Cassius laughs, nuzzling into the vibrations of his throat. Christopher’s hands find his waist, his thumbs lifting his shirt just slightly, running light little lines over his skin. Cassius keens at the touch and Christopher lets out a soft chuckle.

“You enjoy this too much, darling boy”

Cassius’ breath only hitches for a fraction of a moment. His hands don’t falter at all. He leans in, pressing soft lips to Christopher’s and letting a low groan fall into his mouth. Cassius does enjoy this. He has to enjoy it. It’s safer to enjoy it. Easier. There’s no space for shame or guilt or fear or questioning when he enjoys it. Just focus and pleasure and want. He’s not going to let it anything else in now.

“I still might not feed you,” the older man murmurs against his skin “You understand that, don’t you?”

Cassius smiles leaning his head back as Christopher’s hands run up to wrap carefully around his throat. He sinks into Christopher – into his body and into his thoughts – like this is the only thing he could want in the world. Not food. Not rest. Not freedom. And falling back into the fog, back into the echo of Christopher’s wants pressing into his head, back into that space in Cassius’ mind where survival locks in and takes over, that’s almost true. 

“And you haven’t even mentioned Chook”

Cassius tries to pretend the skip of his heart, the flip of his stomach is just arousal, just excitement. 

“If I didn’t know any better,” Christopher says, his thumbs running over the younger man’s Adam’s apple “I’d say you’re starting to like this”

Cass closes his eyes, breathing into the tension of the hands at his throat. It doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters. He lets the fog wrap around him, lets Christopher’s wants flood him so much they may as well be his own. 

So good when he- intoxicati- darling b- that throat is made for-

"Cʜʀɪsᴛᴏᴘʜᴇʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇ”

Christopher groans low in his throat as his hands drift down Cassius’ chest, mindlessly reaching for the box beside him. He runs his mouth against the length of Cassius’ throat as he unwraps the sweet for him.

“God I love it when you do that”