#it's not a terrible thing but I would prefer some motivation

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love how Paul's character in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is defined entirely by a lack of desire, or desire defined only as 'not what I don't want'. "What Do You Want, Paul?" is a big joke about what a terrible narrative protagonist he is. But it's deeper than that. Throughout the show, even in the smallest, most insignificant phrasing, this man only ever expresses wants in these negative forms, as if he's incapable of feeling attraction in itself rather than simply avoiding what he dislikes. And only avoiding! He never says that he hates anything, either! That would give him passion, drive, perhaps the goal of actively removing that thing. No, he exclusively uses the verb hate in past tense.

He doesn't like musicals, singing, dancing or public performances. He makes this very clear, to the point that it's one of his most significant character traits. At no point does he ever talk about liking any media.

He doesn't want to do social activities.

He doesn't want to give away his money. About both this and the above, he can provide no logical explanation or moral justification. He just doesn't feel like them.

He always gets black coffee because it has "no cream, no sugar, nothing in it"; that is to say, he might not necessarily love it, merely prefer it over its sweeter or more complex alternatives.

He doesn't believe that Emma should have to sing and dance at work - he doesn't want her life to be so unfair and annoying to the both of them.

He doesn't want to obstruct the workings of his office (saying "that's the last thing I want" triggers "What Do You Want, Paul?").

He says, "I wanna go home!" when Mr Davidson is singing at him, but means that he wants to be somewhere safe and not stuck in this incredibly uncomfortable situation.

He doesn't want to die.

He specifically doesn't want to die in Clivesdale, because fuck Clivesdale.

He doesn't want to join the Hive.

He doesn't want to leave Hatchetfield, even when it's the site of an alien invasion that is his personal worst nightmare. He actually says that "All things considered, I like Hatchetfield", arguably an exception to the standard. However, he's also well aware of the town's flaws and problems. He grew up one of its poorer residents, attending the inferior, underfunded Sycamore High School where he casually admits the students "hated [themselves]" and having to watch its more respectable rival Hatchetfield High's school play. He has no strong investment in his tedious middle-class office job. He doesn't get along with some of his fellow townsfolk, like his coworker Ted and all the employees of Beanies except Emma. He awkwardly evades giving to charity and the homeless every morning on his way to work. His life is decidedly not one of utter bliss, and yet it's good enough for him in that he doesn't have the energy, ambition or imagination to want anything more. Since he's "been here [his] whole life", his affection for his hometown could be more an aversion to everywhere else or the hassle of travelling. Sticking with the devil he intimately knows.

He doesn't think badly of Emma, and says so because he doesn't want her to or believe that he does after learning that she helped make a "hated" experience of his happen.

He doesn't want to let Bill die, which is why he goes with Bill to rescue Alice. His heroism and proactiveness at the turning point of the end of Act One start to notably erode his apathy, but his phrasing reaffirms his negative motivations: "Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mama Mia!", "Emma, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to draw a line in the sand. And I will never be in a fucking musical."

He doesn’t want Bill to blame himself for Alice's endangerment, stay in the area once Alice is revealed to be a vessel of the Hive or kill himself.

He doesn't want to do some light reading on the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.

He has no positive motivation. He breaks one of the most basic rules of being a fictional character, let alone the main character the audience is supposed to root for. He isn't just an antihero, he's an anti-protagonist. Although this could easily make him boring or unsympathetic, he manages to seem relatable. Real. Human. He captures so genuinely an ordinary person living an ordinary life suddenly trapped in a horror story. How many of us can honestly articulate "one concrete goal that motivates all [our] actions"? Even if you can, you wouldn't undergo a narratively fulfilling and thematically cohesive arc related to that desire the way a fictional character would. We're all essentially just trying to survive each day. To make or keep our lives however we define 'good enough'. We may not have a crystal clear picture of our ideal life, but I bet we all have a long list of things we don't want in it. We're all Paul. He even says, “I want what anyone wants”.

What more appropriate antagonist for this man to face, then, than a force that exists to strip people of their autonomy, their individuality, their personhood, and force them to play archetypical characters in a conventional narrative? The Hive observes that Paul is an anti-protagonist and takes offence to this. It seeks to convert him into his antithesis, the "bold" "leading man" of its musical who the audience can "sympathize with". The Infected highlight this in the opening song, in which they eagerly anticipate and prepare the audience for his entrance... and he misses his cue. He isn't following their script. Perhaps that's why the audience is able to believe in this average, unassuming antihero's potential to succeed, to defeat the Hive or at the very least escape it, despite how fraught and grim the situation becomes. The story certainly proves itself to be cruel to its characters; but Paul doesn't operate like a normal character. The Hive promises to fulfil people's desires and make them happy throughout the play. Charlotte, Bill, Hidgens and Ted's deaths are connected to, by either direct causality or thematic relevance, their respective desires for Sam's love, Alice's safety, world peace (and the glory of a musical career) and Ted's own survival. Paul is uniquely immune to this pattern of death related to a core motivation.

Until:

"I can't leave without Emma”, “a friend of mine."

"Is there a chance of something more?"

"I think so. I'd like there to be. I want there to be."

He wants Emma, her life and her happiness and maybe, just maybe, her love. He wants to love her. To spend time with her. For the first time ever, he wants more out of life, not less. He's a little bit more of a character. After the Infected reprise the "Did you hear the word?" section of the opening song, building up to his appearance, this time he does enter the theatre, coming down the aisle just as he was meant to. Right on cue. Paul is now vulnerable to the narrative - the Hive's narrative. And the Hive's control.

Still he resists, even while doubting if he was ever really happy before. Not only does he use his final words, fittingly, to declare that he doesn't like musicals, but before that he firmly refutes the Hive, and the philosophy behind it and all the pressures and temptatations it might represent: "It doesn't matter what I want." What matters is the good of the world. Emma. Love. Hope. Freedom. Integrity. Humanity, which must be wonderful if we can make sacrifices like this for all the right reasons.

Rest in peace, Paul Matthews. You were the opposite of a conventional protagonist, but a true hero.

[lorimnnn]

Hello, would you be so kind to write for some DBD killers? If so, could you please write some headcanons on Max, Kazan and Anna taking pity on a survivor reader? She has been hiding away the whole trial and they find her shaking in a corner, hugging her knees and crying. She is so scared that she can't move and the only thing that comes out of her mouth is a weak "I just want to go home"

Than you in advance! 💗

absolutely!!!!

i do apologise for taking WAY too long with this, sometimes a lack of motivation trumps all, no matter how good the request is!

I hope what I've written is plenty enough to please you...

also, keep requesting guys! I love seeing your messages turn up in my inbox <;3

~

cw: canon-typical violence, gore, some swearing, panic/anxiety, but mostly just angsty fluff, ngl

DBD Killers With a Scared!Reader

Max Thompson Jr.

Initially... he's so confused. He doesn't know what to think, first, but avoids you as an issue to deal with later. I'd like to think the Hillbilly prefers to take care of the more difficult survivors, first--- he's just like that.

His screams terrify you. You can hear the sound or people getting torn apart and you've never been particularly fond of torture. You were a sensitive, emotional soul, and so, very kind. But make no mistake. The Entity meant for you to be here--- whoever the "Entity" was, anyway.

At this point, everybody had left you behind to fend for themself. Since the Hillbilly was an unsubtle butcher, it was easier to elude and avoid him--- giving them time to try explain to you and encourage you to do your part. But it just went in one ear and out the other. You were terrified, after all. Eventually, they just gave up and let you be, crying and frozen with your hands clamped over your ears.

How did it ever come to this?

Now you're the only one left. Max doesn't notice you at first, you know, since you're new. He thinks he's taken care of everyone, but he doesn't understand why the trial hasn't ended

Then he hears small, breathless sniffles

Whips around, confused

His chainsaw growls at his side and the crying grows louder as he nears. He hunts you down and just... finds you. Raises the chainsaw above his head and is about to kill you--- but then you look up at him, completely defeated and vulnerable, wet-eyed and quivering

You don't even try to run at that rate. How can you? Where will you go? You've never been here before. But it looks very far from home

I think it's the hopelessness in your life that makes him pause

he's completely quiet and just standing there

And realising that nobody is coming to help you, you burst into more violent wails

"I want to go home!"

Awkwarddddd

stands there watching you tear up and inwardly panics

doesn't know how to comfort anyone. his parents were terrible and tortured him, and because of his prison in the walls, he never got to make any friends

he's grappling with the feeling of duty

it's not the first time survivor's have cried before, but it's the first time one has cried and not looked at him with complete disgust or hatred. you're crying because you're scared, yes, and obviously scared of him... but it's like you're giving him an opportunity to win your trust

he finally gets to be more than an angry villain... and he's unsure where to start

so he puts down his chainsaw, first. turns it off and everything, then just chucks it somewhere behind him. he'll go find it later

you're watching him like a deer in the headlights as he gets down on his knees and carefully scoots towards you

you flinch when his hand descends close to your face... and then rests on your head

*pat pat pat*

You're still so stiff, so terrified, but your tears are beginning to cease in passion

seeing your reaction feels like a reassurance, so he does it again

a bit harsh with it though

"ow..." you say when it starts to feel like he's hitting you. "that hurts..."

oh my gosh he feels so bad

hand retreats immediately

makes a sound that has you deflating completely, because you realise he's trying. he's truly trying, and is just not very good at it

he's completely defenseless, too

you realise that with a flinch, because it means that this disfigured, monstrous killer is trying to appeal to your trust, telling you he won't kill you

you soften up a little

you fear that when he stands up because you're taking too long, he'll grab the chainsaw again and make it quick. but you don't want to die--- you saw everyone else get chopped up and you don't want that to happen to you

max stiffens when he sees you beginning to move on to your hands and knees, crawling towards him. your face is still wet but now they're full of hope, not just undiluted fear

"can... can I have a hug?"

he's so scared he'll crush you

in all honesty maxie's never gotten a hug before. he's not used to this kind of gentleness, just violent anger

so he opens his arms up slowly, jerking like a rusting machine, inviting you in the best he can. trying to smile at you, even though his face doesn't allow. it's like his hatred for his disfigurement has just been renewed--- he wishes he could look nicer, just for you

definitely has a moment where he's like, "what the fuck am I doing right now?"

very well knows the entity may punish him for this

can't bring himself to care

not when you curl up against his chest between his knees, your sobs starting up again as you grip into his clothes, holding yourself impossibly close

absolutely melts

a natural at adapting to the cuddle

wraps his arms around you like you're delicate, though. not the firmness you need but it makes you feel so special and so cared for that you just cry harder, burying your face into him

max cannot believe this is happening rn

a new, alien kind of warmth floods through him, protective and strong. he strokes your arm gently and lets you cry, wishing he knew how to help, cursing himself out for the fact he doesn't

jumps when you speak, "will I ever go home again?"

his heart practically breaks. he doesn't want to shake his head, but he has to. he doesn't understand why he hates it when you cry, but he allows it.

and he promises that he'll do everything in his ability to protect you, and make sure you never have to cry like this again

all in all a 10/10 touch-starved baby. would probably fall a little in love with you when you recover, shaky hands reaching to pull you into another hug, but not knowing if it's okay.

will bridal carry you into the hatch and drop you in, heart breaking all over again when you scream and fight to reach for him, hands desperately fumbling for grip on his clothes

but he'll see you again

just you wait, sweetpea

Kazan Yamaoka

an asshole. he's so driven by rage that he most likely won't notice at first. just destroys and destroys, reaping destruction in his chosen path

this means that you won't even have a chance to talk to the other survivors. they know how kazan is and they'll send you an apologetic glance as they all scatter, wishing they had more time to explain but knowing if they didn't work fast, they were all done for

you're on your own, kid

let's say you're a good climber. shakily, you haul yourself on to the roof and choose there to hide, because for some reason... nobody ever looks up. ever.

until the end

kazan is wracking his head for a solution--- why isn't the trial ending? hasn't he won? he killed them all... hooked, mori'd, he'd lost count. but he knew the faces of the survivors he hated the most to the ones he still couldn't stand on a lesser scale and was sure he'd made a mess of all of them. but still, the trial continued

which meant a new survivor

so who was it?

where was it?

drives himself insane trying to find you. for all his rage and godlike pride, he's not the brightest

only realises you're on the roof when you start hiccupping, panic increasing tenfold when you realise you're the only one left. You don't know about hatches, you don't know about anything. Nobody explained anything to you

And now you're stuck with a flaming, angry monster

you can't even scream. it's stuck in your throat, muffled, choking on it--- you can only watch as kazan gets closer and closer. he's even angrier than usual--- did you mean to trick him? did you plan this? of course, you wanted to make a fool out of him

approaches you with audible, potent breaths. he reminds you of a hungry lion on the prowl, an apex predator approaching you, unrivalled. proud. ego hurt.

you back away

there is no remorse in this samurai, you can see it. you're scrambling back with your hands still on your ass, sniffling. and then you slip.

it's completely clumsy and stupid. you're at the end of the roof and you didn't realise, and now you're on your back, nothing to grab on to, and rolling off the edge.

kazan watches you smack against the ground. he expects you to get up and run away again.

but when you cry out, a vulnerable, naked cry, innocent to pain like this, he stops.

he watches you sob harder, muttering to yourself. "I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I just wanna go home..."

and your eyes are clenched shut, like you're praying. don't you know your wishes are futile, here? the Entity is not a merciful god, nor is it kind

you curl up into a ball and just lay there, and he can only stare

he starts to remember how your teammates didn't even help you. they only cared for themselves and their own survival. dishonourable cowards.

they'd left you stranded, and none of them had noticed

he supposed he could try and understand their positions. they were in a high-pressure situation and they could only do what they needed to do, lest they be butchered by them premature to even the middle of the trial. but still

there was a special kind of fear you honed that made him almost feel... bad

it took him back to his youth. he remembered his dead father. that man had not been innocent to bloodshed, but he had been innocent, no less. and he had died. dead in a way he did not deserve

you reminded him of his father taking his last breath

that day, he had failed to protect his family and honour his last name. he had not been a warrior that day, but a coward

and seeing you was a painful reminder of all his regrets

so he sighed

and carefully made his way towards you

you didn't even notice him until he grabbed you by the chin, turning your head to face him. your breath hitched in your throat and you froze all over, more tears surfacing to your eyes

but the feared oni only scoffed

"I'm not here to hurt you. I would have done so already if that were the case."

you sniffled pathetically

he loosened his grip on your face

being gentle had never been his strong suit. it had been a while since he'd had such an opportunity, to be responsible for someone else's comfort. be the person they needed

swallows when you melt into his touch

your entrance had been a rude one, after all. he was the only person who'd ever stopped and attempted kindess with you in this hell hole. the other survivors had neglected you

"your arm is broken?"

"i... I think so."

"The Entity will fix it."

"Entity?"

sighs

gently explains to you where you are and what's going on. at this point, he has squatted down to sit, less beast and more man... and you have finally sat up, cradling your arm as you scoot closer. kazan has noticed but hasn't said anything, unsure of your movements but certain of your weakness

does not expect you to throw yourself into his arms

the impropriety!!!

kazan is an Edo-era samurai, come on

freezes up like he's been violated

"s-sorry," you whisper. "I just... I need someone. Please. To tell me I'll be okay."

relaxes

pity begins to transform into sympathy and something else, something that makes him feel responsible for you. Like a dad or something, or maybe even more. a possible companion

won't get ahead of himself, though

strokes your hair like a domesticated cat and eventually hauls you into the little cradle formed in the centre of his crossed legs

you're baby now

not that you're complaining

kazan is as warm as a furnace and he's the first comforting thing you've had in a while. against your will, your entire body melts and you become liquid in his arms, much to his pleasure

he finds he... may like this

he's never really given tender affection like this before. sure, he had his family, but that had been purely for the upholding o his dark legacy

now that's over and immortalised, and there's you

he doesn't mind you

remember that kazan is very headstrong and emotionally driven. he kills everyone in an episode of unparalleled anger. so of course he starts to see you in a certain way--- his little deer, little one, sweet creature

depending only on him

of course he'll take care of you when he puts it like that

but alas, he can't keep you here forever

"Little one, we must part. But I will see you again. I will make sure of it. You will be strong when I see you next time. You will not cower. Do you understand?"

You really don't, but tearfully, you nod. you don't want to disappoint and it pleases him that you care to appease to a monster at all

leads you to the hatch with one hand on the back of your neck. sends you off with an approving nod.

you'll never know how softly he smiled at you that day

Anna

with her hunting skills, you have more luck being obvious than you do hiding and being subtle. you hiding and being subtle was what gave you away immediately

and also, Anna loves a challenge

the other survivors tried dragging you around with them, explaining, but it was all in vain. you weren't moving. you weren't doing anything but crying

they gave up and abandoned you when it compromised their own safety to be around you

but some stayed

who was it? leon. of course it's leon. he's too noble, too kind-hearted to leave you behind

he tries to defend you when Anna finally approaches, but he can't

you feel your entire world break apart when she mori's him right in front of you

that's when your hardly-contained sobs turn into silent, breathless whimpers, more tears streaming down your face and your chest quaking as you fight to breathe

you can't breathe

noticing how you aren't even moving away, Anna will pause

she will look at you, consider your state

do you enjoy being such easy prey?

maybe, maybe not

she takes her time to study you because you're not going anywhere and even if you tried, she'd be on to you in seconds

you're staring at Leon's mutilated body, hands curling into the dirty

i think that's when it hits you this is very real, and there's no escape

you're absolutely done for

and you're terrified because of it

and as Anna approaches, you can't even back away. too in shock, too scared, to helpless and vulnerable

who is this woman, so sly and stealthy, murdering all of you one by one? a rabbit mask on her face--- a real rabbit, too?

and why is she hesitating to kill you when she didn't hesitate to kill Leon?

little do you know, Anna's soft spot for little girls has been triggered

it just has to be the way you're curled up, knees to your chest and arms helpless beside you, fighting to curl around your legs when there's no strength to hold them there

you just look so... small

like you need someone

Anna will feel slightly bad that she killed the only person who gave you any sort of momentary security

after all, Anna knew what it was like to be left completely alone

the feeling of loneliness was unparalleled and the fact you looked so... defenceless made her feel even worse about it

at least the other survivors had their own skills

you were obviously new to all of this--- did you even know what you could do?

poor baby

immediately decides she will spare you. fuck being a survivor, you're helpless and you need someone, even if that means her, a killer. you need her

motherly instincts absolutely activated

you squeak pathetically when she crouches down beside you, arms looping beneath your knees and back

you can't even scream when she lifts you. what the fuck--- what are you doing, what---

she lifts you so easily, too. doesn't matter how heavy you are. remember her strength is increased by the entity, and she can hunt bears and stuff. she's strong

and she's... she's rocking you like a newborn baby...

anna sings to you. she sings the lullabies her mother used to sing to her and hums into your ear, trying to calm you

soothe you

it works, if only slightly

you're still not ever the fact that she brutalized Leon like that RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

and she does feel guilty but she isn't sure there is anything she can say to you to fix that

your eyes are just too innocent

it's very clear to her that you've never seen blood before. at least, not like that

not to that extreme

starts babying you until your cries cease completely

whispers to you comfortingly in Russian

you vaguely understand a question she keeps asking you: what's wrong? what is it? what is the problem?

at least, you think so

you just look at her tearfully, about to burst all over again and say, "I just want to go home!"

at that moment, her heart breaks for you

and she feels so much anger towards the Entity, because can she not see? is this some joke?

you are the last person deserving of this kind of hell

you reminded her of the rabbits that used to roam her forest. they were so vulnerable and weak

but they had their own tenacity she was sure she would see in you

puts you down and holds your hand, then starts tugging you along

you follow dumbly, with a bewildered expression on your face

her message is very clear: "I'll get to you in a minute. Let me take care of something first, okay?"

holds your hand tighter when she hooks and mori's the other survivor right in front of you all over again, feeling that you're trying to run away

it's like she's trying to each you something

shows you how to hide and the best places to do so (and pretends she can't see you when she forces you to practice)

it's giving father-son catch except it's more so mother-daughter hide and seek

not very fun on your end and you get more and more freaked out but you find you'd rather be favoured by the killer than hated

by the time there's nobody left, Anna will reluctantly lead you to the hatch

she doesn't want to let you go

she might even offer things to the entity to keep you as her little daughter

she knows she could protect you much better and hates the idea of seeing you hurt when she just knows the other killers won't be as merciful

they won't understand

feels so possessive of you already, but knows that either way, the Entity will take you away

So she pulls you to her, kisses your head

then shoos you off the hatch like a mother duck bidding farewell to her duckling

you just stare at her, confused

does it again

realising that she wants you to jump into the unknown door in the ground, you start crying again

no! no! don't do that!

hugs you in a panic and pets your hair

depending on how severe she will pick you up again

and in either case, she will have to--- broken heartedly--- send you off into the abyss as you sniffle

"please don't make me go..."

oh trust me, she doesn't want to

but she'd rather not find out what the entity will do to you

strokes your hair and gives you a gentle push

she'll come back for you, y/n

mommy's proud of you!!!

~

yay! I did it!

I hope you enjoyed this, nonnie. this was so fun to write.

please keep sending me requests!

oh, and remember to reblog and follow!

lorimn <3

[jagdkommandos]

NSFW alphabet template (König Edition)

I made this account to try and get into writing more so i thought a prompt template might be a fun way to start it off….various headcanons of König because I spend too much time thinking about him🥰 maybe some brief mentions of harder kinks but nothing graphic/detailed or illegal dw

Original Template here!

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

Always concerned with your wellbeing when you finish, he’ll immediately get you water and hold you. Afterwards he’ll get your clothes if you ask, or let you lay in the bed and rest as he makes dinner. Loves to do things after, and will make snacks so you can stay in bed and watch movies or spend time together.

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

For his partner’s body, their legs/hips. He’ll cover them with kisses and bite marks, manhandling them any chance he gets (only with your enthusiastic consent, of course)

For himself, his arms. He loves being able to hold you so strongly, and carry you around in them. He also loves watching you grab his biceps during missionary, they make a great holding bar so you don’t slide away from his force.

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

cums A LOT. With little experience, and not making masturbation a habit, when he does go at it he goes hard. Not only does he have a huge load, but he’s gonna want to come multiple times. He loves seeing it on or in you.

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

ties into wild card a bit further down, but he’s definitely into some more degrading stuff. He really loves that he’s basically guaranteed to be bigger than his partner, because he loves feeling like he has control, but he goes to great lengths to hide it because he feels bad about it. In theory, he’d love to call you names or be rough during sex, but the one time he tries he probably feels so terrible he stops, even if you like it.

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

He’s definitely had a couple partners in his life, but he hasn’t been sleeping around. He knows the basics, but if you wanted to try something spicier, he might need some direction.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

On top, facing you with your legs on his shoulders. dunno what you’d call that, but it definitely gives the perfect view of your reaction and the best angle for kissing and biting.

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

He’s too self conscious to act silly or weird during sex, and will try to act reserved, but he’ll match whatever mood you’ve set once he’s more comfortable.

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

Relatively well trimmed, I don’t think he’d be totally bald or have any designs but he likes to keep the hair short and out of the way.

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

Super romantic, the first few times you had sex in a relationship he would definitely always initiate it with a date first. Even when it became too regular for that to be convenient, he’d still approach you in a very loving way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t do it a lot, his anxiety gets in the way when he’s left alone for too long and he gets paranoid about someone catching him. He’ll do it if he gets worked up enough, though.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

any sort of marking. He would probably never admit it, but anything like branding, biting, any sort of symbol of unification.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A good old bedroom, preferably one set up beforehand to be suited for a few hours of intimacy (think big bed, lots of pillows, flowers on the table, toys in the bedstand, waterbottles on hand for when you take breaks. He’s a sucker for cheesy romantic settings.)

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

Any buildup of sexual tension drives him mad if he wants you. Interrupted before he has to go to work? he’ll spend the whole day with you in the back of his mind. Edging him or teasing him? He’ll get so frustrated he wants to throw you on the bed and have his way. He’s also totally into restraining his partner, because he loves watching them try to resist the pleasure he gives them. Anything that shows him you’re overly eager for him will drive him crazy.

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

Anything public. This dude def even locks the bedroom door when you go at it. He doesn’t want to be caught in an awkward position, and he doesn’t want to put you in one, either. He’d be too busy watching his surroundings to enjoy himself.

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

He loves receiving, but he’s a fan of giving too. He’d never demand it from you, but if you initiate head he’ll lose his mind. He’s pretty good at giving, and he’d offer to pretty often, but he loves being able to watch your face as he receives.

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

He starts out slow and romantic, trying to be gentle, but has a hard time containing himself and always ends up increasing his pace after a while.

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

not a fan, He doesn’t feel like it provides equal satisfaction to both parties. He much prefers multiple short rounds in a row, or one long session. Quickies feel too impersonal and almost disrespectful because he doesn’t just bang to get off.

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

He likes the idea of risks, but only in controlled environment. He wouldn’t be able to do anything genuinely public or rank-risking, but he’d probably be into roleplaying it.

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

He doesn’t last long before nutting, but he regains energy fast (you can’t tell me this massive specops dude doesnt have record breaking recovery time) and is ready to go for multiple rounds

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

He wouldn’t use anything like a fleshlight, but he’d keep a small collection of various toys of your choosing for him to use during sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bigger on being teased than teasing. Egging him on when you can’t have sex will basically ensure a wild time when he gets you alone. He won’t be able to stop thinking about it the whole time. Once he’s comfortable though, he’s definitely more eager to tease you back or start it, because he actually enjoys the dynamic.

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

Tries to be quiet, fails miserably. He’ll start out with heavy breathing, but it’ll descend into a series of swearing, german words, and loud grunting. He also LOVES to hear you make noise, otherwise he worries he’s doing it wrong.

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

Into some more extreme things, but he’d never tell anyone that. Knifeplay, blindfolding, branding, biting, etc. but only, ONLY if you are the one who initiates it, and you’ll probably have to practically beg him, because otherwise he will always feel bad about it, even if you agree and he asks first.

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

dude is RIPPED. He has largely athletic related hobbies, and an active job in the military, so he stays in top shape. He’s got pretty clear skin because he’s got good hygiene, and all his body hair is either trimmed or removed because he doesn’t like how it looks or feels under all his gear. He’s got a decent amount of scars from work, mostly along his chest and arms but also some on his lower body and maybe a couple on his face. Also definitely packing, because he is 6’10 and because I say so. It’s gotta be like 13 inches long.

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

He has a high sex drive, but the average person would never know because he has it under great control. Unless you initiate, he’s never gonna harass or beg because he’s horny, but he will take care of himself once he’s alone. Live with him as his girlfriend though, and you’ll never have a free moment.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sex wakes him up. You’ll wake up hours after sex and find him still busying himself with various tasks and hobbies, cleaning the house, etc. as if it reinvigorated him. Sometimes he’ll even ask for it if he knows he has a lot to do in a night, because it motivates him and acts as a stress reliever.

-

A/N: I hc könig as a huge service top and i cant stop thinking about it so thats what 90% of this is sorry i need him to be my husband rn

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

NSFW Alphabet - Judge Turpin

Buckle in, Rickmaniacs. This one was an experience to write. Trying to go appropriately dark side for this character with my own observations for him. A little plot for this one. In this, Reader is the Judge's wife.

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

At first terrible. But as his affection for you grew, so did his care. In his eyes you're not just a conquest, you're his wife. He did swear to care for and protect you, and that includes taking care of you after he's thoroughly wrecked you.

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

He likes his hands. He likes what he knows he's capable of with them.

On you, he likes your inner thighs. The soft, inviting path to his prize.

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

Inside you, on your breasts, your face, he loves to debauch you and make a mess of you.

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

He doesn’t have dirty secrets. What he wants, he does.

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

Very. He's had a lot of conquests and that library of his is a complete guide to smut.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes all sorts of creative positions. But there is something to be said for simple missionary. Having you pinned beneath his large body, completely at his mercy and under his control.

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

He is not a light-hearted man. He's very intense and focused.

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

He doesn't bother. Most days he doesn't even shave his beard, but you actually quite enjoy his stubble.

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

You would not call him a romantic person. But he loves you in his own way and you know that. Calling you things like his "sweet, pretty whore" and treading a fine balance between treating you like a vessel for his lust and his precious little wife.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He'd rather have you do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Purity and corruption kink. He loves the idea of turning a sweet, innocent maiden into his wanton, begging harlot. Of course, after some time with him, you're far from innocent, but you know how to play the game still. Bondage and discipline. He really likes shabari, the ways he can tie you up and put you on display for him, and the marks the ropes leave across your body when he unties you. He has rules and how he expects you to behave. If you break these, he takes great pleasure in punishing you. Spankings with his hand, hairbrush or cane, denying or forcing your climax. He wants you to beg for his mercy but he’ll only give it when he feels you’ve earned it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere the mood strikes. Any room in his house, his judges chambers at the courthouse, in a carriage. One time you took a train journey with him, alone in a train compartment for hours. That was a memorable afternoon.

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

Watching you orgasm. Seeing you take pleasure in his touch is a heady feeling and he feels addicted to the way you respond to him. He likes to lay you out on the bed naked and make you cum with his fingers, just so he can watch you.

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

Ha! Nothing turns this man off. But while he will push your boundaries and even cross lines at times, you are special to him. He'll push you to your emotional limits, but he'll also make sure you're put back together again afterwards.

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

Most of the time, he's receiving. He loves having you on your knees in front of him. But if he's in a generous mood, he will go down on you. He'll use this to keep you on edge till your crying and begging for release though.

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

Slow and rough. He takes his time, pulling back slowly and thrusting hard. He wants to make sure you feel every bit of him before he pounds you so hard the headboard hits the wall.

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

He prefers when he can take his time, but when he wants to get under your skirt, he will.

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

He loves putting into practice what he's read in those books. If an idea intreuges him, he'll want to try it.

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

Three rounds, with some recovery time. He's not the youngest man, but his stamina is still high.

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

No. The only real sex toys around are dildos, and with his posesivness, he doesn't want anything inside you except him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on his mood. Sometimes he’ll just have you without bothering with foreplay. Sometimes he’ll tease you until you’re crying with frustration and begging him to give you release.

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

On the quieter side, heavy breathing, grunts and dirt talk.

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

As long as he’s getting what he wants, he can be very attentive. When he’s refused or defied is when his dark side really comes out. As long as you’re being his good girl, he can be very indulgent and affectionate with you.

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

Eight inches and pretty thick.

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

High. This man is walking lust.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After he's tended to you, he can fall asleep pretty quickly, well worn out.

[canonical-transformation]

(first | previous | #untitled shenhe game )

> say yes but you are no hero

It is true that you fought Beisht and drove the ancient god away from Liyue Harbour.

“Yes,” you say, “but I am no hero.”

You weren't trying to be a hero. You were simply protecting people you cared about.

Some of your friends have disagreed with you on this. Yun Jin said that a hero is defined not by their motivations but by the difficulties they overcome. Yanfei said that there's no legal definition of heroism so arguing over it is pointless.

No matter. You know what you know:

“I am simply a human like any other.”

The woman in the gray hooded cloak tilts her head. She seems to be thinking this over.

“That's very enlightened of you,” she eventually says. “Still, it's an honour to meet someone as formidable as you.” She motions towards the dead Fatuus. “May I take his badge?”

“Yes,” you say. (She likely wants it for the Tianquan's recycling program, in which Fatui soldiers' badges can be traded in for a thousand Mora each. The Tianquan is very environmentally conscious.)

“Thank you,” she says, and begins rifling through his clothes. “Miss, may I trouble you for your help with something?”

“I am busy,” you reply. “I am making noodle soup, so I am hunting for Boar Meat.”

“Really? I can get you some Boar Meat.”

“I would prefer to hunt my own kill.”

“Oh. I see. It's just, please, my research has stalled and... Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like arrows? Or some Hunting Traps?”

Hunting Traps might be useful. When used correctly, they can result in additional meat at a higher quality. Nobody is quite sure how this works.

“The local boars are really aggressive,” the woman adds. “Even with your prowess, I wouldn't recommend getting into a brawl with one. It's too risky. One of my boys got knocked off a cliff by a boar just the other day.”

(You are aware of the risks. Cloud Retainer once told you a precautionary tale about this exact thing happening to Xiao.)

(Multi-choice: multiple popular options may be picked.)

> offer to trade Fowl bits; ask what she wants help with; go challenge the boar

[kinkandkreep]

♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫

♡︎ "__" 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

♡︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

♡︎ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @missgab @sucidalbutpretty @kawaiimusiccollection @nekogeisha-blog @k-cris @dreamsygirl @fishisahappydog @mikeyaki @mytaiyakeylover @tampon-earrings @wakashudou @aaria-malfoy @halparkebitch @cashout-princess @loveameripanshipperlove

Following your episode at dinner, you and Izana made yourselves comfortable on his plush leather couch, snuggling close to one another, with Toto finding his home curled up in your lap. You’d slipped out of your dinner outfit, now clad in one of Izana’s big shirts and some leggings.

Something was queued up on the television, but neither of you paid what was on much mind. Instead, you were both caught up in your own thoughts. 

Izana, though he knew it probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing, kept replaying your earlier words in his head. 

‘__ slept with Hanma? Does that mean there’s potentially something more between them?’ 

The white haired man worries his bottom lip as he thinks, eyes glazed with concern. 

It’s somewhat shameful, he knows, but upon hearing that Manjiro had made such a huge, terrible decision and pushed you away, Izana thought that perhaps now might be his chance to do what he should have done years ago before the little blond bastard snatched you away from him. 

He wasn’t too apt to admit it, though he wasn’t necessarily ashamed of it, but Izana was fairly certain he’d been in love with you for about as long as he’d known you. Of course, as cognizant as he was of this, and as good as he was at masking his emotions most of the time, he figured that neither you nor anyone else would be privy to that information. 

Except for one person. 

Izana’s frown deepens at the thought that Manjiro had known about his love for you, and that his decision to marry you was partly motivated by spite. It’s certainly a horrible thought, but it’s a thought Izana can’t help but have nevertheless. 

Now though, with the revelation that you’ve actually slept with Hanma, Izana can feel the most minute amount of fear creep along his spine that you’ll be swept away from him again. 

His hand absentmindedly rubs your arms in a manner meant to be comforting, but it also serves to ground him as his thoughts spiral.

You, on the other hand, are consumed with thoughts about where this night is headed. 

You’re not sure why you divulged the fact that you’d slept with Hanma to Izana, but now that you had, you felt a strange sort of tension between the two of you. 

You hoped Izana wouldn’t judge or think differently of you now, even though you knew the likelihood of that happening was nearly nonexistent. 

But why then were things now so awkward?

‘Was it because I cried? Now that I think about it, that was kind of embarrassing. Aw man, I knew I should’ve just kept quiet.’

You sigh, which of course catches Izana’s attention. 

“You ok __? If you’re tired, you’re welcome to the guest room, or even my bed if you’d prefer that.” 

You looked over at the clock mounted on the wall. It was pretty late, running up on midnight, and your earlier crying session had admittedly left you a little worn out. 

“Thanks NaNa, I actually am kind of tired. I’ll take the guest room, no problem. I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your own space.” Standing, your cradle little Toto, who up to this point had been asleep, to your chest, placing a little smooch on his fluffy head.

“Where should I deposit the little one?”

Something about the visual of you cradling a little bundle dressed in an article of his clothing has Izana’s heart fluttering a little bit. 

“Uh, his bed is in my room. Here, I’ll show you the way.” 

You follow Izana, cooing at the sleeping Toto the short walk to his bedroom. 

Once there, you gently place the sleeping pup down, watching fondly as he shifts slightly before settling. 

"I'm happy he's so comfortable around you. I don't think I mentioned it before, but Toto was a stray. I found him wandering the streets near my apartment one day, if you can believe it. He was really hesitant initially for anyone to come near him, but overtime he's grown more open to other people. Though you seem to have left an especially good impression."

Izana chuckles, clasping a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezing. 

You smile. "Just call me the pup whisperer." 

A little bit later, you've settled into the guest room for the night. It's around 1 o'clock now, and while you mentioned being tired earlier, you find that you’re having trouble falling asleep. 

Visions of your earlier encounter with Mikey and flashes of the pictures exposing his infidelity plague your mind this particular night, causing you to toss and turn. 

You stop for a moment, listening for Izana. 

‘Ugh, this is so stupid. Why can’t I just forget and fall asleep?’

You huff, frustrated with and frankly over the whole situation. 

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually you decide that you’ve had it. Standing, you quietly make your way over to Izana’s bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and you peek inside. 

The man seems to be sound asleep, laying lateral with his right hand tucked under his head. His breaths are quiet and even- long, white lashes fanned out over stubbornly plump cheeks. 

You can’t help but giggle quietly at the thought. NaNa always complained about how stubborn the fat on his cheeks was, and how they’d never slimmed down like Mikey’s. 

Steeling yourself, you push the door open more, easing inside and carefully shutting it behind you. 

You stand to the side of the bed for about a minute, contemplating your next move. 

‘Should I just…get in bed with him? That would be kind of invasive, and I’d hate to wake him up over something so silly.’

Having successfully convinced yourself that this whole endeavor was stupid, you prepare to turn and exit the room, being stopped when you hear a low voice mumble “__?”

You turn, only to see vibrant lavender irises blearily focused on you.  

“Hey NaNa. Sorry, did I wake you? I was just…ugh, what was I doing?”

You sigh, feeling even worse now that you’ve accidentally woken your host. 

“It’s ok. What’s the matter? Come here.”

Izana sits upright, opening his arms and gesturing for you to come closer with his hands. 

Before you really recognize it, you’re launching yourself into his embrace, feeling more than hearing the rumble of a chuckle he releases in his chest. 

“It’s ok, __. Would you like to talk about what’s bothering you, or do you just need someone there to help you sleep?”

Your response is muffled, but Izana can make out the word “both” before you begin to pull away from his chest. He’s still somewhat groggy from sleep, but he can see the beginnings of tears well up in your eyes. 

“Sorry to wake you with this,” you say, rubbing the heels of your palms forcefully into your eyeballs. 

Izana chuckles, shaking his head dismissively. 

“It’s no bother at all. I’m glad you find some comfort, however small, in me.”

You can’t help the tiny smile that forms at Izana’s words. You’re grateful in the moment that you’ve got such an amazing support system surrounding you. 

“Thanks NaNa, I truly appreciate you.”

The two of you snuggle close to one another as you lie down, your face buried into Izana’s neck and chest. You breathe in deep lungfuls of his naturally spicy, slightly sweet scent, happy to find that the rhythm you’ve adopted in combination with the comforting smell is slowly lulling you to sleep. 

Izana tenderly and lightly scratches his fingers over your scalp, hoping to soothe you even further. Trying to be as subtle as possible, or at least, more subtle than you anyway, he breathes in your scent as well, eyelids fluttering over lilac irises as it invades his senses. 

“I love you, __.”

Mostly asleep by this point, and not thinking too much of it, you respond:

“Love you too, NaNa.”

When the morning arrives, you find that you’ve slept quite fitfully. Being snuggled up to Izana left you pleasantly warm and comfortable, and your mood has improved drastically from the night prior. 

Yawning and stretching until you hear a satisfying pop sound, you look over to your host, finding that he’s still fast asleep. 

He looks adorable, curled up and breathing quietly through his slightly parted lips. 

Smiling, you lean down without thinking and place a kiss on his exposed forehead. NaNa’s hair has grown out over the years, not being as long as it was when you were younger, but it still reaches about shoulder length, and is much fluffier than before as well. 

The gentle touch of your lips to his skin causes Izana to stir, and he eventually blinks open tired eyes to focus on you. 

“Good morning, __.” Izana’s voice is much raspier after sleep. 

“Good morning NaNa. So, what shall we do for breakfast? If you’re awake enough for that.” 

The man chuckles, slowly sitting up and stretching in much the same manner as you had earlier. 

“How about we try this European recipe I discovered a little bit ago? I should have all the ingredients, and it’s very simple to make.”

You nod, ecstatic about the prospect of food. “Sounds good to me.” 

About 30 minutes later, after both you and Izana have washed up for the day, you find yourselves in the kitchen, an assortment of bread, cheese, fruit and preserves laid out before you on the counter. 

“Wow NaNa, we haven’t even made whatever you’re talking about yet and it already looks delicious.” You can feel saliva pooling in your mouth in anticipation as Izana laughs. 

“And that’s not all. No breakfast anywhere would be complete without eggs.” 

Grabbing the eggs from the fridge, Izana spends the next 15 or so minutes showing you how to make lightly buttered brioche toast coated with fresh strawberry preserves and paired with fluffy, goat cheese eggs and even more fresh fruit. 

“Here, put some of the egg on your toast and try everything in one bite.” Izana holds up an egg covered portion of the buttered and jammed toast for you to taste. 

Leaning forward and taking what was probably a larger bite than would be considered polite, you hum approvingly, thoroughly enjoying the melding of the flavors, from the sweetness of the fruit to the tanginess of the cheese and savoriness of the eggs and butter. 

“This is delicious NaNa. It’s a good thing you found this recipe. And it’s so simple! I could make this for myself when I go back-...home…”

The thought of having to return to where Manjiro is halts you in your tracks, and your expression subconsciously falls.

Seeing this, Izana frowns, before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. 

“Hey, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need. No rush, no need to stress.”

You offer him a sad smile, one which he readily returns, though his has a more cheerful edge to it. 

“Now, enough of that sadness. We’ve got the whole day ahead of us, and I don’t plan to let it go to waste.”

Spending the day with Izana seemed to be exactly what you needed. 

The two of you hit the town with a vengeance, stopping by all your favorite stores and small shops, not spending a whole ton of money but splurging here and there. You wouldn’t normally have indulged in retail therapy to soothe your frazzled nerves, but you found that it was actually proving to be quite effective. 

Around lunch time, you and Izana decided to hit up a new spot, one that specialized in Western cuisine. 

“So, feelin’ better?” Izana asks over a mouthful of Chicago deep dish pizza. 

“Much, all thanks to you.” You give him a much brighter smile than before, proceeding to stuff your face with your own slice. 

The two of you relax, chat and eat for the better part of an hour in the little restaurant, your previous vexations all but forgotten. 

Izana seems to have swiftly become a balm for all your worries, one which you are increasingly grateful for. As he eats, you observe him quietly, not realizing you’re staring so intently until you hear him distantly calling your name. 

“__.”

You startle a bit, blinking a couple times before humming in response. 

“Uh, yeah? Sorry, I didn’t mean to zone out there.”

Izana smiles, shaking his head. 

“No worries. But I asked if you had decided what you were going to do regarding the situation with Manjiro.” 

You sigh, picking up and absently wiping at your hands with a napkin before setting it on your now cleared plate. 

“I haven’t. Not really anyway. I’d initially decided that I was going to “make him suffer,” and while I do feel that I’ve, at least to some extent, been successful in doing that, I haven’t really made myself feel any better either. This situation is just so terrible and messed up, and I hate the fact that I’ve been pushed into it.”

You can feel the tears creeping up, and you lift your eyes, tilting your head back and taking a deep, steadying breath in and out to stave off the impending waterfall. 

Izana frowns, wishing more than anything that he could go back in time and change the past, so that maybe he could have done what he should have from the start, and spared you the heartbreak. 

Reaching over, Izana covers one of your hands with his own, squeezing gently for comfort. 

“I’m so sorry __. I wish I could do more to comfort you.” 

You shake your head, giving him a little smile. “No NaNa, you’ve done more than enough. Thank you.”

With that, the two of you finish up your meals, with Izana insisting on paying the tab. As you exit the establishment, a violent shiver shoots through you and you quickly jerk your head around in all directions, trying to locate whatever it is that made you so on alert. 

“__? You ok?” Izana watches you with a lifted brow. 

You don’t respond for a few seconds, still searching for the source of your sudden discomfort. Finding nothing, you breathe out a sigh, shaking your head to steady yourself. 

“Yeah just…felt something odd a moment ago.”

Izana’s lips purse in thought. “Hmm, I wonder what it could have been?”

Deciding to simply brush the strange feeling off, you hook your arm around Izana’s, loudly declaring that now you want to head to a dessert shop, something which makes the white haired man laugh.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain blonde ex-gang leader sits observing your interaction from across the way. 

He sips quietly from his coffee cup, the hand not holding the glass clenched tightly into a fist on his lap. 

His mind swirls with violent machinations, though his expression remains uncharacteristically, and somewhat frighteningly, flat. 

Sitting down his drink, the man pulls out his phone, quickly sending a text before pocketing the device once more. 

‘Oh __, what a silly girl you are. But don’t worry, I promise I’m going to make everything alright again.’

ᵃ/ⁿ: ……..🙂 ʰᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉʸʸʸʸ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ…….

ᵒᵏ ᵖˡᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖ ᵐᵉ, ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᶠᵃᵉᵛᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵈᵃʸ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱ ᵘᵖᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. 😭

ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵃʰᵍᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱʳˡⁱᵉˢ! ⁱˢ ʲᵘˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿ' ᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ⁱ ᵃˡˢᵒ ʰⁱᵗ ᵃ ʳᵒᵃᵈᵇˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᶠᵃʳ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ⁱ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ. 

ⁱ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵃⁱⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿ' ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ. 😂

ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵘᵖᵈᵃᵗᵉ! ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ! 👋🏾

[lesinquietes]

A truly scary thought is breaking up with Dabi, because you figure he never really acted like he gave a fuck about you anyways, and him turning into a total yandere

Tw; burning, kidnapping, noncon

At first, he’s chill about it. K. Fine. Good riddance. He doesn’t need you. You were simply something to pass the time with, and he’s sure to let you know precisely that if you badger him too much. It turns out you’re kinda cute when you cry. Makes him wish he’d been around more to tease the little droplets out of you instead of ruminating on the past.

Your lack of presence hits him after the first night. Having the bed to himself isn’t as nice as he thought it’d be. Maybe it was comforting to have you warm the other side of his mattress — or the space beneath him, when he used to cage you between his chest and the memory foam. Growing up close to Natsuo, he became familiar with having someone else nearby. But it can’t be just anyone; it has to be someone he cares about. And he guesses that means he cares about you, after all.

He was so preoccupied with getting revenge on his father that he neglected you; likewise, he isn’t in-tune with his emotions enough to own up to his mistakes. That makes his next step challenging. How is he supposed to get you back if he doesn’t bother to apologize? You won’t accept that. So, naturally, instead of causing himself a molecule of personal discomfort, he decides it’s in his best interest to kidnap you.

God help you if you’re the type to move on from relationships by slutting it up. Dabi won’t like that other people have touched you. He’ll have to kill them; then, he’ll have to burn some sense into you. Where would you prefer his mark on your body? It doesn’t matter. He chooses your tender inner thigh. Screaming only motivates his effort, so by all means, sing.

“Think it’s hot when you scream for me.” He grins as you wriggle on his grasp. “Should’ve done this sooner.”

If you’re the type to heal on your own, in the presence of yourself and a few close others, your punishment won’t be nearly as bad. In fact, he hesitates to even brand it as a form of discipline. Sure, he still burns you — because you can’t get it in your pretty head that you have the choice to up and leave him a second time — but he makes sure to be gentle. He knows he’s the reason you left; he can’t fault you for it.

“Don’t give me that shit, doll. I know I fucked up. That’s why I’m here.” He murmurs, advancing toward you with a single blue flicker igniting from his index finger. “But be a good girl and bend over the couch for me. I’ll make this quick.”

When he finally takes you back with him, he doesn’t let you out if his sight. He lets you blow up and yell at him. He lets you curse and cry. He doesn’t let you wallow for too long, though. It pisses him off that you’re still acting like being with him is horrible. He said he’d have more time for you now. He said he’d speak to you nicer. What the fuck more do you want from him, an apology? You’re not getting that.

Dabi is delusional in every sense, except he’s a little bit more so in bed. He thinks fucking you will fix things. It always did before, didn’t it? He’d make you cum and you two would forget about your argument. It didn’t even have to be addressed. He’s confused as to why it isn’t working now.

“Not good enough for you anymore?” He hisses between several deep thrusts. “This dick doesn’t stretch you right, princess?”

Moaning is the only correct answer. If you talk back, he makes it worse. He remembers where your pain threshold is. He thinks he can literally drill a good attitude into you. There’s no escaping how terribly deranged he is.

And pretending life is good won’t get you anywhere. He knows you. He’s studied you enough to detect your deception. Don’t worry — you’ll love him for real again one day, when you have nothing but a modicum of your sanity left.

[theriverbeyond]

what series scratch the same "itch" as TLT for you? Recently finished the trilogy and feel empty and have found nothing to fill the void in my chest (lol) that TLT had in the weeks I was reading it. I have already experienced homestuck, when thhey cry, and most of the other "big names" of similar media. Any format works as long as its good. I like morally grey characters (Ianthe), well written female leads, character driven narratives and lesbians (in that order.

1. Princess Floralinda and the forty-flight tower (by Tamsyn Muir. excellent audio book narrated by Moira Quirk, same voice actor as TLT)

2. All of Tamsyn Muir's other novellas and short stories (The magician's apprentice, The house that did 16 loops of time, undercover, chew, the deepwater bride, etc)

Next up is entirely my personal and extremely picky and subjective preferences of brain zing, ranked in order of me remembering them

Chainsaw man manga (i read this 5x back to back when I first got into it in 2021. part 1 is complete, part 2 is still updating. part 1 can be experienced as a complete work. the anime is very good but the first episode is not as good as everything after it)

This is how we lose the time war book (feels sorta like fanfiction but the prose is gorgeous)

Interview with the vampire tv show (it's fun, it's camp, there are a lot of gay and bisexual people making really terrible decisions and being very hot)

Gurren Lagann anime (my favorite anime of all time. the women characters are not good, as is typical of many animes. the bathhouse episode can be skipped in its entierty without losing any plot. the overall story is really good and gives me that zing)

Arcane tv show (i watched this in full once and every since have just watched a caitvi + jinx whump clipshow but it did give me that zing. i do not care about the men)

Fullmetal alchemist manga or FMA brotherhood (really good and at this point a classic. royai is the queerplatonic campal blueprint i will not be taking critique at this time)

Revolutionary girl utena anime (watch the sub, do not watch the dub, the dub didn't make them gay. it's really good but heavy TWs and also it is paced like a 90's anime so: slow with a fair amount of filler, which can be good or bad depending on your preferences)

I have complicated feelings about Baru Cormerant and recommend reading up on content warnings if things like violent homophobia and very intimate portrayals of being a colonized subject are things that would upset you. It felt a little too personal to my life for me to like... think it was "fun" or whatever like it felt uncomfortably personal (and also subjectively I didn't super enjoy the pacing of the latter 2 books) but it did make me feel a lot of things and think a lot of thoughts. if the blurb sounds like something you are interested in then I recomend giving it a shot and then you can decide what you think of it yourself

Ancillary justice book (liked this one a lot, but havent felt motivated to read the sequel)

Other fun Studio Trigger animes such as Promare, Cyberpunk 2077, Kill la Kill

Nausicaa and the valley of the wind manga (the movie is good but the manga spanned 10 years, is gorgeously rendered, and goes MUCH more in depth especially wrt climate philosophy and such)

Slay the Princess video game (on steam but also I got into it just by watching letsplays online. It's really good and REALLY interesting, i love how it uses the visual novel format to its story advantage to pull of some incredibly cool story twists. Highly recomend!)

I feel like I am forgetting things that made my brain zing. My childhood special interest was CATS the musical (stage play and 1998 recorded production) and i definitely got brain zing from that but I don't think it has a lot of taste overlaps with tlt. this post really went off the rails but in my defense, it is after midnight

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Felix x Rime x MC Polycule Domestic Headcannons

Fandom: Last Legacy (Fictif/Nix Hydra/Dorian) Characters: Felix, Rime, Gender neutral MC Prompt: hcs ab how would domestic life be for Felix and Rime and MC polycule Requested by: @mossmosis Warnings: Brief stabbing mention (Rime is in this, so-)

Last Legacy content, in this day and age?! It's more likely than you think! I've gotten a bit distracted with other fandoms, but I've been meaning to return to my beloved Fictif fandoms. I suppose now's the time!

Also, thank the dice gods for bringing you this particular treat! I had motivation to write, but no idea what to do, so I rolled some dice and this was the result!

Requests are open, as always, so if you'd like to see more, send me an ask!

For starters, there is no shortage of sarcasm and snarky commentary in this relationship. It's practically one of your love languages at this point! Rime and Felix are both prone to making smart remarks, and when they're both in the mood for banter, things can get mildly out of hand... you've had to calm Anisa down after she witnessed one such moment, assuring her that the two of them were not, in fact, in a terrible mood and taking it out on each other. You've come to enjoy their banter, regardless whether you join in or simply sit back and watch the show.

Both of them enjoy teasing you and each other, though there are some stylistic differences. Felix tends to be a little softer and kinder with his teasing - don't get me wrong, there's often a little bite behind his words, that cute little smirk and playful sparkle in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He teases you about lighter subjects, and though he often speaks without thinking, he never means any harm by it.

Rime, on the other hand, doesn't hold back in the slightest. It's not that he means to hurt your feelings, he isn't doing it out of malice - he simply doesn't know when to back off sometimes. If you call him on it, he'll scoff and roll his eyes, likely making some little comment about you not being able to take a joke - but he won't tease you about that again, and he'll do something nice for you in the near future as an unspoken apology.

Speaking of gifts, both of them will absolutely shower you and each other with small gifts for absolutely no reason. Felix is prone to bringing something home for you both anytime he visits the market - it's very rare that he forgets, though sometimes he'll return empty-handed and visibly frustrated that he couldn't find anything suitable. He sometimes gifts you and Rime jewelry, and has surprisingly impeccable taste, always giving you something you'll love. Books are another of his frequent gifts, of course - you can expect any new books to go missing shortly afterwards as he borrows them to read them himself before quietly returning them a few days later. You've also received a few trinkets that match his gothic mage aesthetic, too, because it wouldn't be Felix if he didn't share his love of vaguely creepy things with you!

Rime tends to focus less on physical gifts and more on actions. He spends time with you both, learns about your interests, stabs your enemies, and does small things to help you out. He prefers to be a little more subtle with his affections, almost pretending like he doesn't care, when in reality he cares very much. It's not that he's hiding it, he just... isn't very open with his emotions yet. When he does bring you gifts, though, it's usually something pretty simple, like some random trinket he saw and thought of one or both of you. I could also see him taking up woodcarving as a hobby to help him relax and unwind, so you'll occasionally find a new gift from him sitting on your desk, carved from wood or, sometimes, from his shed antlers. He likes bringing you food, too, and memorizes both of your tastes and favorite treats so he can choose the best treats.

Getting all three of you in bed at the same time can be difficult, but when it is achieved, you have a delightful time cuddling with each other. On the somewhat rare occasion that you all turn in together, you take turns being the one in the middle unless one of you has had a particularly bad day and needs double the snuggles. Most of the time, though, whoever goes to bed first ends up in the middle, with the other two crawling in wherever there's space when they're finally tired enough to get some sleep.

Mornings are always interesting, too. You or Rime are always up first - it's almost never Felix. Whoever is up first starts making the coffee and/or tea, and you try to take turns making breakfast. Rime might complain if you miss your turn, but you know he doesn't really mean it. He won't admit it easily, but he actually enjoys cooking, especially for his partners. Once breakfast is ready and one of you drags Felix out of bed, you all sit down for a nice meal together. Depending on how busy you three are, sometimes breakfast is the only meal you can all have together, so you make the most of it!

When you do have time off from your busy schedules, you almost always spend it together. Most of the time you're in the study/library at Fathom, doing more casual research projects together or reading books in a comfortable silence. Sometimes, though, you go out to get some fresh air and a change of scenery! Wandering around Porriman markets is often a good way to spend an afternoon, sampling various treats and buying interesting things for one another.

Something else you three often do together is stargazing. Felix obviously loves it, especially when he gets to share it with his loves, and though Rime might comment that it's boring just to be a bit of a brat, once he gets comfortable he'll become far more relaxed. Often times these nights consist of you and Rime gazing quietly at the stars, listening contentedly to Felix's soft voice as he rambles on and on about them. He'll inevitably get a bit flustered when he realizes just how long he's been talking, but it's nothing a few kisses can't fix~

Honestly this entire relationship would just be so soft and so chaotic at the same time. You all love each other so much and care deeply for one another, but there's rarely a dull moment!

[itsonlydana]

"passenger princess" | chapter eight

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 4,6k

❱ summary: the stormy side of summer; falling down a rabbit hole of doubts

❱ warnings: mature language, descriptions of weed & alcohol, description of a panic attack

❱ an: forgive me? This is the second to last chapter and I'm not me without a bit of drama

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER EIGHT: PANIC

The music around you was loud, the air sweltering hot. Heavy bass pulsed in your veins, mixing with the cold beer that you lifted to your lips trying to cool down just the slightest; it helped only a little and only for a brief moment, a hint of moisture in your throat before the stale and stuffy air caught up with you again.

No matter how many frat parties you had been to, the number of guests fitting in the much too small and mostly couch-filled houses always surprised you.

And here, in the living room you got dragged into, were obviously far too many. A mass of sweaty bodies pressed tightly together and swaying back and forth to the songs blaring from the speakers.

You leaned against the wall where you'd spent most of the evening, staring over the rim of your cup at your roommate.

'Oh, you really need to come to this party,' you repeated her tearful words from this morning in your head. She had blindsided you as you were about to head off to Aragorns, had begged you to accompany her because 'Oh I don't want to go there alone and we haven't been out in so long'.

Apparently, there was a tiny bit of guilt in you. In the weeks before university had started, you knew no one and had blindly followed her to these parties until you had met your boys, and yes, she was right about you then going with them rather than her.

Plagued by your good heart and the promise of 'We'll do it like we used to, just the two of us!' you had forced yourself out of your comfy clothes and Thranduil's sweater and thrown on one of your party outfits instead.

Nothing came of the "just the two of us".

Within minutes of your arrival, she'd been pulled onto the dance floor by one of the (in your opinion, look-alike) blonde residents of the house.

The only thing you had done together was pre-drink some shots in the car of an acquaintance who had given you a ride.

It didn't sound nice, and to most others, your roommate's behavior would probably be 'unfriendly' and 'selfish,' but while she preferred to dance with strangers, you had previously used these parties to, well, make acquaintances elsewhere.

With the promise of a real date from Thranduil and the text messages you'd been sending back and forth to each other all day and even for the past weeks, the thought of repeating your earlier party experiences left a bitter taste in your mouth.

And it was almost more disgusting than the beer here- however that was possible. The beer was disgusting. Really fucking disgusting.

Life had taken a turn on you, growing rosy and soft at the sharp edges.

The giddy feeling of bridging that space between you and Thranduil accompanied you throughout the days and nights, you saw no need in the hook-up culture that came along with these kinds of parties.

As if on cue and as if he had read your mind, your phone vibrated in your other hand.

Thran: Darling, I hope you arrived safely! xx Thranduil

The smile that spread on your face when you read his message was unavoidable.

Thranduil had a habit of signing every message with his name, even though you (and Legolas) had explained to him several times that it was not necessary.

With every day that passed, you discovered more very kind and terribly sweet quirks about Thranduil, and every day you fell more in love with him.

You: we did. four shots into the night and i want to leave again

Thran: Oh no! Did anything happen? xx Thranduil

You: nothing that should surprise me, its a frat party lmao

Thran: You seem to enjoy them when you go out with Legolas. xx Thranduil

Thran: A lot, if I remember the many nights where I had to pick you guys up from some house correctly xx Thranduil

There was a truth behind it that you couldn't deny.

Frat parties with Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were clearly preferable to you, because your boys wouldn't just leave you alone.

Well, at least not for an entire evening.

Legolas had a knack for wandering off at these parties, though he never got far until he was surrounded by swarming girls and boys.

Another advantage of going to parties with them was that Aragorn knew everyone and you never had trouble getting in anywhere, no matter what kind of party it was.

The pick-ups by Thranduil increased again, now that summer break called for more parties and more outings.

With you last on the route and Legolas asleep and unresponsive in the back seat, Thranduil drove the rest of the way always with his hand in yours or on your legs and every time he accompanied you to the front door you hoped.

Hoped his lips didn't land on your forehead or your cheek. Hoping that he would finally kiss you like the look on his face showed. It was frustrating to stand in the dark alcove with him, looking up at him and feeling only his thumb on your lips as he put his hand on the back of your neck.

It was tempting to call him, just ask him to pick you up from this party and then you could drive around in the night, hands intertwined and without a care in the world.

To be honest, you were already dialing his number in your mind when you lifted your cup and looked back at your roommate as you drank.

Your clear conscience gnawed at you as you grimaced slightly biting into the plastic without breaking it. What you could use besides your less-than-ideal mood was a beer-soaked dress.

You: yes, with the boys!

You: roomie ditched me to make out with some Beta Chi Theta guy

You: i got crypto explained to me three fucking times

You: and i swear either i will die of boredom or blackout from the bowl they are serving here. its like 90 perc vodka

Thran: Typical for boys. Thinking a woman has nothing in her head because she is gorgeous. xx Thranduil

You: You think i am gorgeous? ;)

Thran: You are really cheeky for someone that got ditched xx Thranduil

You: wow. shouldn't you be reading a book or play golf, old man?

Thran: Shouldn't you be dancing and not texting with a still young and handsome man? xx Thranduil

Thran: Why are you going to these parties with your roommate if you suffer this much? xx Thranduil

You: most times you get free entry and drinks just bcs you got your tits out :)

Thran: That is definitely not the sentence that I have expected xx Thranduil

You: you want proof?

Thran: ...

Three dots ...

Nothing

Then again the three dots …

You had to bite your lip, and yet the grin spread all over your face as Thranduil visibly tapped away at an answer for a long time.

As much as it frustrated you to see the dots disappear again, the flirting had clearly improved your mood.

"Oh my god, girly–"

With both hands in front of her face, trying to catch her breath, your roommate fell against the wall next to you, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide open.

Without words, you held your cup out to her and grinned as she put her head back and drank the beer in a few gulps, after which she puckered her mouth.

"This shit tastes like ass," she said, wiping a hand across the corner of her mouth.

"Are you surprised?" you asked, letting your gaze wander over the crowd. "Where did you leave your boy-toy? The way he had his hands on you, I'm surprised to see you here beside me and not on some bed upstairs."

Snorting, your roommate held her hair to the side "Fuck me, it's so hot in here," she cursed and you longed for some fresh air as well, there was only one window open in here and a group of smokers were leaning out of it. "Kíli just went to get his brother," She turned her head, grinning broadly and started giggling "We were at a party at their place the other night and Girly— Fíli is such a hottie!"

"Brothers?" you asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically "Don't you think one is enough?"

At that, the giggling died down and a surprised and slightly reproachful look landed on you. "Babe, you of all people shouldn't be judging, don't you think?"

Slightly startled at the tone in her voice, you leaned away from her, seeking eye contact, but she rolled her eyes and then there was that smirk on her face again.

"As much as I would appreciate a trip to Paris," she was the only one laughing at this innuendo, "Fíli isn't coming for me. Well, at least not today." She paused to fan herself again and you thought you had to shake her to make her continue speaking. When she did, however, you wished you had never started the conversation.

"Fíli is coming for you, babe! Look at you, standing around all alone at this party, it's so lame," She smiled at you and put a warm hand on your bare arm. "In the old days, I would have had to hold your hair now or found you in one of the bedrooms."

"Coming for me?" you asked in horror, your thoughts a single merry-go-round at the sudden change in mood. "Why would you invite a boy I don't know over because of me? Just because I made the mistake of sleeping with some fratboy once in the very beginning?"

"You've changed sweetie and I just want to help you have fun again."

"I'm having fun," you replied bitterly, "Believe me, it's not on me why I'm standing around here alone. You wanted to come here together!"

"Yeah, because I thought that would make you finally stop thirsting after old men!" your roommate cried, and a slap would probably have been more pleasant than her words.

They came crashing down on you like a bucket of cold water while you got even hotter. You could feel your breathing first stop and then become faster, more irregular, and it slipped slightly into the uncontrollable.

She wasn't done, though. Cheeks flushed, she pressed a long fingernail against your chest and pushed you against the sticky wall.

"Do you know how disgusting it is to see you being driven home at night by a man as old as my father? Not to mention it's your best friend's father, Girl. You're constantly on the road, sleeping in his sweater and even here you prefer to write with this old fuck instead of finally finding someone your age. At first, I really believed you were sleeping with Legolas since you were always with him and god I would have understood that."

Anger burned in your belly, bubbling and hissing, fighting its way up with every word thrown at your feet, and by the last sentence, you were ready to forget all your notions of moral rightness.

The temptation to show her what you could do with your anger was as present in a twitch of your hands as the taste of blood in your mouth. You hadn't even realized you'd bitten your lip until metal spread across your tongue.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," you snapped at her in a tone that couldn't have been more bitter.

"Oh no?" She challenged you, her red-painted lips twisted into a sardonic grin. "Tell me," she moved closer, leaning far too close into your personal space for your liking right now, and you tasted alcohol and the acrid smell of weed on her breath.

"Is he paying you for sex? Or what does he want from you of all people?"

The music around you was loud and you felt hot and cold at the same time. The bass boomed in your ears and yet you thought you perceived nothing louder than the suspension of your heart at that moment.

It happened very quickly, the poisoned words had barely bitten you, you already felt a touch of dizziness, a spinning of the room and with it disintegrated the image that you had had so far of your roommate.

You couldn't find words to express what you wanted to say. You wanted to scream at her, push her, insult her, tug and tear at her and beat her with similarly poisonous claws until she felt even a hint of the pain spreading through your body.

There was so little air in that house.

Sweat and alcohol, weed and smoke stung your lungs with every attempt to take a deep breath.

Your legs moved on their own as you fought your way through the crowd, past blurry faces.

Out, you had to get out.

You needed air.

You fled the house, the words anchored deep in your chest, where they dug deeper with each breath until your chest threatened to explode.

Not knowing where to go, the main thing your brain screamed was away, you stumbled across the porch, hearing someone calling your name, but you didn't stop.

You kept running, lapsing after a while from running to walking more slowly until even that became far too much for your feet.

Looking around you didn't recognize the houses around you, and the thought of going back the same way you pushed away as quickly as it had come.

The silence coming from the sleeping family homes around you was almost as bad as the music of the house. Your heart beat loud enough that it throbbed dully in your ears and no matter how athletic you might be, your breath rattled and burned in the freezing night air that crept around your free legs and arms.

Shivering, from anger, cold or pure exhaustion from it all, you couldn't tell, you pulled at the hem of your dress and lowered yourself to the curb.

Legs pulled to your chest you ran your hands over your face, over glowing cheeks and as you tried to take a deep breath you felt your jaw tighten and only a sniffle could be heard in the silence.

A "fuck", slipped over your lips, quietly and rather an exhalation of air instead of letters. Your mind was in chaos, driven by a big 'what the fuck just happened?' thoughts piled up in an unassailable crowd. It felt surreal, and as much as you pleaded it was a figment of alcohol, the events burned inside you.

You stared at the ground in front of you, your roommate's last words echoing in your ears, and the image of your friendship tore before you like a rubber band stretched too long. It had been inevitable in the end, that was clear to you, because you had never really fit together.

Only the hostility had been a surprising guest.

She had been so driven to hurt you and her weapons had found their target.

What had seemed to you before like a solid foundation of trust and respect crumbled beneath you and your throat tightened at the thought of going back to your dorm.

Sniffling, you unlocked your phone, which you thank god hadn't dropped as you'd run. Immediately you stared at the last opened chat with Thranduil and the wave of emotions crashed over you again.

Before the bitter words could bite into your insecurity, however, you had already dialed his number and held the phone to your ear.

Only a few seconds later the dialing sound disappeared and was replaced by a coarse, "First you leave me on a sweet promise and then you call when I want to sleep? Tze tze, darling" A single, miserably failed attempt to suppress a sob was enough to change the tone in his voice from a drawled tease to concern.

He spoke your name with such concern that a second sob followed the first, "Is everything alright... what happened? Darling, the background is so quiet, where are you?"

You didn't have it in you to repeat the argument, didn't want to say hateful things to him over a phone even if they hadn't been your words.

Instead, you hugged your legs with your free hand, pulling them closer to you. "I don't know where I am"

On the other end of the line you heard him inhale sharply, a commotion of rustled blankets, then bare feet on floor.

"Nothing happened to me," you quickly forestalled his question, and then immediately felt the pain in your chest again, and tears gathered in your eyes on your next breath. "Thranduil, I–" you began, but your voice broke. Hearing him had been enough to open the floodgates of your held-back despair, the battle with yourself for your composure was lost.

Alone on the side of the road, in a neighborhood that was foreign to you and with nothing on you but what you were wearing and your cell phone, you felt so cut off from all warmth that you couldn't help but cry.

Thranduil said your name again, this time with more urgency, "Send me your location and I'll come to get you."

"You don't have to," you protested weakly "You wanted to sleep"

"The only way I'm going to be able to relax and close even one damn eye today is if I know you're safe, and nothing is going to stop me from making sure of that myself."

While sending him your location you also put him on speaker phone, your phone cradled in your hands.

"Okay, I can be there in fifteen minutes. Are you safe where you are?" asked Thranduil and you heard his front door slam.

You looked around, but except for a dog in the distance, no one seemed to be near you. "Yes," you managed to say before the tears took over again and shook you.

A car door was pulled open and closed again, the familiar click of its key and purr of the engine followed, and despite your crying, the familiar sounds filled you with a slight warmth.

As much as you wanted to make yourself smaller, to put your head between your legs to hide from the world, you didn't dare to turn your back completely to your surroundings.

It tore you apart piece by piece.

The evening had not gone at all as you had wished. It didn't have to be much, a few free drinks, conversations about courses of study and how awful some professors were, then maybe a couple of dances with girlfriends and before you knew it you would have been back in your bed, snuggled up in Thranduil's sweater.

But no.

How could you have been so wrong?

Your hands clawed into your upper arms as your body shook from your sobs. Nails pressed into your skin in a way that would surely leave marks, but you didn't fight back. Didn't stop.

Why had you opened up?

A bitter voice haunted your thoughts, whispering to you that it had been inevitable. Of course, you couldn't even enjoy a relationship; if you could call that with Thranduil a relationship.

He wouldn't even kiss you. They were ghosts, insecurities hidden under white sheets with grimaces cut into them, who knew how to use their tricks so that within a few minutes you were a complete mess.

What had started as anger toward your roommate took a quick downward path into your fears.

Your roommate had given the ghosts an opening, had purposefully punched a hole in your walls, and now your head was trapped in a stream, ever downward.

Doubt ate at you, made you question Thranduil's feelings.

You clung to whispered words at movie nights, the feather-light touch of his hand on your back wherever you were, and the smile, very different from his grin, much more genuine, gentle, and given only to you.

Tears fell too fast to wipe them away and sucked the last bit of strength that had kept you upright until now out of you like it was never there at all.

In another state, it would never have occurred to you to give in to doubts.

In another state, you were aware of how much progress you'd made in conversing and growing comfortable being the person the other could rely on, how heavy his touches were in their meaning.

A fleeting brush of his fingers over your shoulder or back as he passed you, a hand in your side as he walked you to the guest room after long parties, as Legolas fell asleep on the couch, or when he grabbed your hand to help you out of the car, because no matter what the weather, he was always at your door to open it.

It was easy to lose yourself when you were hurting, to question what was real.

You must have switched off completely, because suddenly you were bathed in the bright light of headlights and a dark car shot towards you much too fast.

What would have otherwise been guaranteed to send you running was a welcome sight to you, and you were on your feet even before the car stopped in front of you.

The next sob that went through you and shook your whole body was accompanied by a simultaneously relieved but also longing wail.

Thranduil jumped out of the car, the door open behind him and the engine continuing to purr, and you didn't wait a second longer before throwing yourself at him.

For a moment the ghosts disappeared, driven away by the oh-so-familiar face whose eyes anxiously scanned you for injuries.

His arms immediately embraced you, pulling you to his chest and wrapping around your torso like a shield. One of his hands grasped your waist, stabilizing you as he realized you were falling fully against him, his other stroking your back first in even motions until they brushed up your shoulder blades and then wrapped around your neck.

Your hands clawed at his sweater, crumpling the fabric between your fingertips as you clung to him. Turning your head so that your ear rested against his chest, the place your cheek pressed against was quickly drenched with tears and there was no doubt you would apologize when you could speak more again without being interrupted by sobs and whimpers from your throat.

"Shh, I'm here," Thranduil murmured, lowering his head to yours. Soft lips traveled a familiar route from your forehead, to your temple, down to your ear, leaving kisses so gentle that your heart contracted in shame at ever having doubted them.

"I'm here," Thranduil repeated, and you could feel the movement of his lips against your skin, feel the vibration of his deep voice in his chest. "Follow my breath, in and out, okay? In, you're doing so well my love, and out slowly, very good."

A few minutes of deep, concentrated breathing passed to force yourself back into a stable state.

Eased through it by Thranduils low voice in your ear, reverberating through your entire body just like the breaths he took for you to mimic him.

Guided by the slow rise and fall of his chest, your lungs filled themselves with his scent instead of the harsh and cold wind, clouding you in the faint smell of lingering perfume that had worn off this late of an hour.

"I'm sorry," When you spoke, your voice was raspy. The words were scratching in your throat, it would most likely be sore later, and half of them are muffled by his sweater, but you felt that he heard you in the way that his muscles tensed. "I'm so sorry."

Your eyelashes were sticky with tears, pealing open to tilt your head just the slightest bit for you to look up at Thranduil.

His eyes were on you already, and with a soar of your heart you discovered the puffiness under them, the redness coloring his cheeks.

Had he been crying? For you? Because of you?

Slowly you raised on arm, stroking over the slight discoloration of his ivory skin.

He caught your hand in his, breathing another kiss on the inside of your palm.

"I was so fucking scared," he started, holding your gaze through half-lidded eyes "I was trying to talk to you on the phone but you stopped talking and all I could hear were your cries and god, I was so fucking scared that I wouldn't be here in time. The scenarios in my head–" his whole body shuddered trying to fight those thoughts visibly coming up again, the breath he lets out hot against your hand. "I would have never forgiven myself."

"I'm so so sorry," you whispered "I wasn't sure who to call."

"You have no need to apologize for this. Okay? Never apologize for calling me, whenever and whatever it is about. I rather drive through the country to pick you up than have you call a cab." Thranduils nose nudged against your forehead.

His gaze was slowly softening, the initial worry not disappearing but dwindling to be replaced by a relief that you at least seem to be physically alright.

"Come, let's get you out of this dreadful cold. It looks like it will rain soon and you, my darling, deserve to be warm and comfortable."

'I am warm', you thought loosening your grip on his sweater, 'you make me feel warm.'

You didn't say it, instead, you let him guide you to his car, his arm still around your waist and when he opened the door for you you had to hold back another sob.

There, laying on the black leather, was the green sweater you loved so much on him.

The one he wore when he had you pressed against the painting in his hallway, the one he had worn the first morning you came over after that evening, still giddy and blushing all over, as he had sat next to you at the breakfast table and his legs had ever so slightly brushed against yours, while Legolas and Gimli were discussing your weekend plans.

He had worn that sweater the first time he had held your hand in the darkness of his living room, a movie playing on the TV and Legolas asleep on the other end of the couch, and you had held your breath, as he slowly reached between you, intertwining your fingers in each other and smiling at you.

Pulling it over your head you felt your hands trembling.

There were so many words on your tongue, forming sentences out of the feelings bubbling inside you like a hot pot of water that surely would boil over sooner or later and you could pinpoint the exact moment it did because as soon as Thranduil sat down in the driver seat he reached over and gently placed his hand on your leg.

"You don't need to tell me what happened but know that I'll listen to you when you want to."

You were fighting the tears once again, this time it was from the overwhelming warmth that spread through you. Thranduil was here, with you, and his voice carried to you like a comforting embrace and you no longer were alone.

Oh, how wonderful it felt. The kindness in his words was a flame inside you, lightning all the places that were left raw and hollow and cold with haunting ghost touches and it soothed away the pain that the venomous words had left you with.

There was not a chance that you could get anything out of your mouth without breaking down into a crying mess. so you just nodded, resting your hand over his and squeezed it.

It wasn't much.

But it was enough for the moment

taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds, @mssuguru, @solartoge, @12134z03, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @lady-of-imladris @finallyforgotten , @123forgottherest @tomhockstetter7-111 @marshymallo @emily-roberts @howlerwolfmax @tigereyesf

[francis-writes]

How about some general headcanons for Cazador in bed? What he's like, what he's into etc

Cazador NSFW Alphabet

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

Unfortunately, he doesn't care much about your well-being. When you're done, he goes to do whatever and you can either still lay there or go away.

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

It's a tough question for two reasons. First, because of his vanity Cazador wouldn't be able to choose just one thing. Second, since he's a vampire and can't see his reflection in a mirror, he barely remembers how does he looks like.

In your case... hmm, still a tough choice. Perhaps your thighs because of how soft they are to squeeze and how easy it is to left bruises on them. Or maybe your neck because of the delicious blood he drinks from it. Or maybe your hands for how they caress his body.

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

Depends on the mood, he likes both marking your body with his cum and finishing inside you (especially that he can't get you pregnant).

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

His main dirty secret is that Cazador likes when you dominate him. He would never admit this to anybody but he enjoys when you humiliate him, give him commands and take complete control in the bedroom.

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

He had a fair share of lovers so he definitely knows what he's doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He doesn't have a preference, it really just depends on his whim.

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

Cazador can be humorous during the act but it's usually in more malicious tone, for example if he's mocking you.

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

He's an elf so he rather can't have body hair except for on the head (which is why Larian finally gave up on giving him a beard which I terribly regret)

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

I'm sorry to say but sex with Cazador isn't romantic in the slightest. It serves only fullfilling his desires and gaining maximal pleasure.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He practically never does it. There is no need, if he's a mood he can always call you or one of the other spawns.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

What kinks he DOESN'T have? BDSM in different configuration (he's a switch), edging, overstimulating, bondage, biting (with sucking your blood), knife play (with carving your skin), etc. Anyway he's open to try almost anything.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He's bedroom. He likes to take you proper, without haste, without servants who could bother you and in comfort of his own chambers.

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

Obedience. Even if you dominate him in bed, he desires your loyalty and complete submission in public. He wants you to treat him as your Master when other spawns look.

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

Sharing. He's very possesive and he wouldn't let you have any other lovers. If you're out of his mansion, he gets angry if you even talk to others. Of course, you lure victims for him but you can't choose your lover or stay with anyone for longer than needed.

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

He likes to eat you out, sometimes to dominate you and make you squirm and sometimes when you're in control and sit on his face.

He won't refuse a good blowjob either, though it isn't one of his favourite things to do.

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

I wouldn't exactly call it rough, rather desperate. He fucks you as if his life depended on it and whether he does it a bit slower or faster, it's always full of passion. He devours you like a starving men.

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

No. Just no. He doesn't want to take you in haste, he needs to savour the taste of your body. He looks for finer things in life and for him a quickie is a sexual version of going to McDonald when you can enjoy a 5 star restaurant.

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

Yes, as I mentioned he is up almost to anything and your safety doesn't concern you more.

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

He's a powerful vampire lord so yeah... you may pass out and he would still have energy for more.

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

I will said for the third time, he would eagerly try almost everything to spice up your sexual life and he probably has a chamber full of different toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's a menace. He loves to tease you until you pull him to the bedroom and even there he likes to get you wet and turned on and then left you unsatisfied out of pure malice.

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

Cazador is rather quiet in the bedroom, you can only draw sighs or sometimes quiet moans from him.

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

Pretty average. Not too pong, not too thick but enough to fill you.

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

Rather big, he enjoys all the luxuries and pleasures of the world and sex isn't any exception. He likes to fuck a few times a day but if you are too tired he may reluctantly find someone else for the night.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

As I remember, elves doesn't really sleep, they just meditate? But in general he rests for a moment.

[tozettastone]

Hm, let me reword; are there characters from the series you love to write but have a comparatively different level of interest in how they're actually portrayed in the source material? I.e. the akatuski who were both introduced and killed early tend to be more of an echo of a character than something that reads as a person

Oh yeah, I see! Thank you for rephrasing this. Okay.

Well, characters like Kakuzu and Hidan (and actually a lot of the cast) are very flat¹ characters in canon. They are also very often flat characters in fanfiction, even when they are major characters — Kakuzu is the money guy, Hidan is the religion weirdo (often referred to as "the miser" and "the zealot," haha) and rarely is this expanded upon.

I write a bit about characters who are like this, and one of the things I like about it is the process of extrapolating a rounder character from the few characteristics of a one-dimensional villain, without just losing all of their villainy. They should still be bad guys. I like to write bad guys.

But, it's also hard for a character to be only a terrible horrible villain when you think a bit more about what they're like in their interpersonal relationships, what they care about, what their preferences are, and just... in regular situations. That's why my Kakuzu and Hidan tags on this blog (...and my kakuhida and hidakaku tags, too, which are interchangeable but somehow never consistent) are full of random comments about this kind of characterisation exercise.

I usually do this extrapolation by looking at characters' attitudes and behaviours in canon, inferring their motives, and then thinking about how those motives might be expanded on so they can be expressed in the broader setting! I have mixed success — sometimes people don't like my characterisation and, much more importantly, sometimes I look back on my characterisation and don't like it either (as one of my recent Deidara posts attests 💀).

In that vein, sometimes I do make villain characters like these seem a lot nicer than they are in canon, just by virtue of writing scenes where they, like, have to have a normal conversation...? But if you're trying to take a flat canon character and reverse engineer it into a rounder one, you have to kinda accept that they will be less, like, unalloyed one-note violence and evil, I guess. Like, at some point they are just going to have to eat lunch without having a little massacre first.

So... That's the comments I have about that process.

I think there are a lot of characters like this in Naruto because a lot of the broad cast can have pretty flat characters. I feel this way about everyone from Orochimaru to Tobirama to Hidan, hahaha. So I wouldn't necessarily single anyone out. I guess the least flat characters I write about would include characters like Sakura, who exhibit a more complex mix of personality traits, motives, desires, preferences, feelings, etc., in canon.

---

One footnote:

1. A quick comment on flatness vs roundness, for anyone who hasn't heard those terms used like this before. Characters, settings, "plot" events, and so on, are all elements of a story. A character is the element that delivers the impression of a "person" to the reader/viewer. They are usually successful to a greater or lesser degree.

One way of thinking about characters is that they can fall on a spectrum between "flat" and "round." When one calls a character "flat," it means that they don't have the depth of personality that makes them very good at being a "person." They are usually one-note and simple. "Round," characters, by contrast, are usually a bit deeper. They usually have complex motives and desires and give a more complete impression of personhood to the audience.

This doesn't mean flat characters are bad characters, it just means that they serve a purpose that doesn't require lingering over the complex mix of characteristics that depicting personhood might otherwise require.

[2rats1gogh]

Hi! I would like to know for you what would have been the fairest ending for the dance? I'm Team Neutral, yes, we exist,although some people say no and that we are undercover greens 🙄, I simply like to analyze both positions understand the motives behind a character based on their context🥲. I always see a lot of debate on this topic, I've seen team black constantly say that it's appropriate for the green line to disappear because they are usurpers and George punishes those who usurp...but...it can also be argued that Rhaenyra's heirs were usurping a broad list of legitimate Targaryens with more rights than them...they also consider it a "divine punishment" that she and her illegitimate children died for trying to place a boy with no real right to it on the throne? I find it quite curious to talk about the narrative punishing you when Rhaenyra and the Velaryon princes came out so badly. Honestly, for me the most fair and equitable ending since I think that both sides did things terribly wrong would have been to leave Aegon III as King (He's one of my favorite characters, I admit it) and Jaehaera as his Queen Consort. I think the dance has a more powerful message in this way, from a literary point of view I think it has much more impact, and I like Daenaera and the fact that she is Vaemond's granddaughter... it doesn't stop being funny 🥹, but those children were a reflection of the horrors that a war between relatives brings, they were never much in the spotlight of the conflict nor did they count much for their respective sides, so it would be poetic that they have to be the ones to take the Targaryen dynasty forward, of course along with the help of Viserys when he returned.

Have a nice afternoon!

Hi!!

I really like the pairing of Aegon III and Jaehaera and as much as I realize that they were both extremely traumatized children (Aegon’s father caused the death of Jaehaera’s twin brother and eventual madness of her mother and Aegon’s mother caused the death of Jaehaera’s other younger brother, but also Jaehaera’s father killed Aegon’s mother) I feel like with time they could’ve made it work.

I REALLY wish that Jaehaera would’ve stayed alive. It would’ve been tragic, but poetic. And even as team green, I actually don’t mind “Rhaenyra’s line surviving” because I think it should survive, but I also wish that Aegon’s didn’t die out. It saddens me so much that none of his children made it out alive, so I kinda hope that HotD changes the ending or whatever and Jaehaera lives.

I don’t mind Daenaera as a character but she doesn’t hit the same as Jaehaera. Her and Aegon could’ve been the poetic ending to this horrible war. Daenaera just doesn’t have the same impact, we barely even knew her. But Jaehaera was there all along.

Also, the children shouldn’t be blamed for the sins of their parents, which is why I think over time they could become closer. They are the only people who could understand each other’s pain, and forgive each other.

And again, it just makes sense. The war was useless, nobody won, and the two lines (green and black) were united. So that everyone gets their blood on the throne, Rhaenyra, Aegon, Alicent, Otto (and Daemon unfortunately). I don’t really care for Corlys, he never deserved that throne anyway, since he was such a misogynistic bitch about this whole inheritance thing that he preferred illegitimate children of his daughter-in-law rather than his very much legitimate granddaughters.

I don’t really mind the idea of Jaecaerys becoming king, I think he was a good guy overall, and him marrying Helaena could’ve been cool I guess, but the issue of Jaecaerys being illegitimate stays. And I never really liked them for some reason. And that whole thing about all three of Rhaenyra’s children with Harwin being doomed from the start is interesting imo, just like all Alicent’s children are doomed from the moment they are born.

Another, much more simpler solution to everything could’ve been Rhaenyra getting to become queen, but then naming Aegon his heir, instead of having children of her own, legitimate or not. That way she gets to be the ruler, and then her siblings continue her legacy. Everyone is happy or whatever.

But overall, I still think that given the way the Dance actually happens, I would much prefer for Jaehaera to stay alive and for her and Aegon III trying to make it work. It may take some time, but I feel like if given the opportunity they could’ve become something.

[wittywallflower]

DBDA post-s1 Catwin fic. rated G 2k words

Edwin went back to Port Townsend several months after their extended stay. He would never admit to expecting a warmer welcome from the shapeshifter who had professed to be so fond of him. But despite the time apart Edwin found he could still read beneath the facade of the apparently-disinterested man who didn’t stand to greet him and offered only desultory small talk.

He might cultivate an aura of boredom and indifference but of course the Cat King was feeling wary and a bit petulant, convinced he’d been forgotten about. Dubious of Edwin’s long absence and his motives for returning.

🔎

Edwin had simply needed to take the time to cope with everything that had happened. 

Time to mourn for Niko, the first friend he’d made in anything approaching a normal way. His friendship with Charles was something unshakeable, but the circumstances of their first meeting had been rather extraordinary. Edwin and Crystal had formed a mutual affection only begrudgingly, after going through a lot together. But Niko… befriending her had come so naturally. Edwin’s afterlife was so supernatural that the easy simplicity of it all had made Niko even more special. Edwin missed her terribly.

Time was also needed to recover from round 2 of Hell, or more accurately to firmly repress as much of that experience as he could. He had talked extensively of Hell to Charles early in their acquaintance; nothing needed to be rehashed, in Edwin’s opinion. It had been more of the same and he much preferred other uses of his time.

Like the time spent letting his unrequited heart be soothed by Charles’ platonic devotion. To be sure that his feelings for his best friend wouldn’t complicate things. He hadn’t worried too much about their work, knowing Charles was similarly dedicated to their cause. He was nervous about the leisure time spent alone together, always so comfortable and often fun in ways some people thought Edwin incapable of. What would Edwin even do without Charles to help fill all the hours a ghost didn't spend on sleeping or eating or grooming?

Nothing had changed though. Their friendship stayed just the same. Edwin had frankly expected it to hurt a lot more. It wasn’t painless, but as he continued to talk and laugh and solve cases with his dearest friend, Edwin realized that he didn’t need to pine for the romantic love Charles didn’t return. What Charles could give him was more than enough. He knew he had Charles' love and respect and admiration; no one could possibly care for Edwin more than the boy who went to Hell to bring him back.  Charles gave him protection, help, an ear when he needed it, and gave him equal time and attention as he gave Crystal. 

Just because Edwin hadn’t seen the appeal in kisses until recently, didn’t mean that his relationship with Charles was somehow lesser for the lack of them. 

And on the subject of kissing, it had come time for Edwin to actually come to terms with the things he had recently realized about himself. This meant research. The local library had a very helpful display front and center, actually. Edwin couldn’t have known beforehand, but it was quite auspicious that he had begun his research in June. He had learned a lot. 

In the safe space of the Cat King’s private lair, with the man he didn’t have to hide with, who liked his secret parts, Edwin had the courage to say as much - though rather more succinct and impersonal words.

“Is that why you’re here then?" the Cat King inquired. "Curiosity? Need a queer mentor for the questions the books can't answer?”

“I would think you of all people would appreciate a bit of curiosity.”

For the first time since Edwin had arrived, the Cat King’s smile looked the way he remembered it.

“Touché.”

Edwin couldn’t help a small smile in return, sensing how fun it could be to banter with the man now that there were no high stakes involved.

“So, what then," the Cat King asked further, "looking for tips on how to make that second kiss a winner? I could probably offer some… personal instruction in that.”

The words were suggestive, and a wink accompanied them, but it rang a bit hollow. Edwin didn’t fail to notice that before he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Why do people keep offering me kissing lessons?” he huffed.

That got the Cat King’s attention, and he sat up sharply, abandoning his indolent pose on the shabby pallet throne.

“Who?” he asked, barely managed to make it a question rather than a demand. 

Edwin had to swallow some emotion before he could speak. 

“Niko was the only person I had ever talked to about… kissing. She said she would be a ‘guinea pig’ if it would help me be less anxious about it. She thought I should save it for someone i really liked, but she still made the offer anyway.” 

Such a romantic soul, but willing to do anything to help her friends. 

Edwin sighed and shook off the creeping sadness. 

“Anyway, somehow Crystal got wind of the conversation and felt a need to point out that Niko really didn’t have the experience to be very helpful. Then Crystal offered to teach me herself, if I found a way to suggest to Charles that he adopt some of her preferred techniques.”

The Cat King stared unblinking for a long moment, then shook his head slightly is dismay.

“Hon, this love triangle you’ve got going on is a little perverse. Tell me you turned Crystal down.” 

Obviously there was no way the prim prissy ghost accepted either offer. The idea was ridiculous. But it would still be nice to hear it said out loud. 

The Cat King would accept any of Edwin’s kisses, but it did sting how narrowly he had missing having Edwin’s first. He would have been properly appreciative of it; he would have done it right, not as a surprise in some dark, shitty forest. 

Second kiss wasn’t bad though. Second was still his goal. 

Edwin answered with a look of exasperation. “Obviously I did not accept. Even if I were so inclined, I can’t see how the inevitable awkwardness would be worth it.”

“If you were 'so inclined', the fun would be worth it. The want, and pleasure.”

The Cat King’s smile was smoldering as he called back to their first conversation. Edwin’s non-corporeal body didn’t blush, but he suddenly had a rather strong memory of that it felt like to have his cheeks heat.

“Yes, well,” Edwin straightened his collar, and his posture, “I don’t have any experience with that sort of…fun. I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“I could show you.”

Edwin looked at him closely, and took a step nearer. The Cat King’s head tilted back to look up at the tall ghost as he approached where the shorter man sat.

“That’s why I am here,” Edwin said without fanfare.

The Cat King almost choked on air, eyes wide, mouth dropping open. 

Edwin leaned in to press a finger to the underside of the shapeshifter's chin, lifting until his mouth closed again.

“I know you could show me things I can’t even imagine,” Edwin almost stuttered when the cat king’s pupils blew wide and the magical being inhaled deeply. Suddenly he looked every inch like a predator ready to pounce. 

Edwin managed to continue, “and for some reason you’re perhaps the only person I could see myself trusting enough to be comfortable with.”

Too surprised by Edwin’s forthrightness to have a response to that, the Cat King could only stare up at him.

Edwin smiled almost sadly and dropped his hand from the other’s chin. 

“But that would have undoubtedly complicated things I was already struggling to figure out. Since Hell , the first time, I was always running and hiding from Death, and in a way also from myself. I didn’t let myself want anything, except to stay out of Hell. Now that it’s not a threat, things have changed. I had to figure out something to aspire to, a goal, something I want rather than just want to avoid.” 

“And what do you want?” The Cat King’s voice was underlain with a purr that had Edwin remembering goosebumps on his skin.

“To continue my work,” he answered plainly.

The shapeshifter rolled his eyes. He was not the least bit surprised and wasn’t that kinda the worst part of it?

“Even now that you don't need the good deeds as leverage to avoid Hell?” he asked anyway, even though he really could have expected no less from the ghost.

The reminder of what he had admitted under the influence of the Cat King’s truth spell was unpleasant to Edwin.

“As I said, I was ashamed of that motive. But that was never my only reason for being a detective. And now without the guilt hanging over me, I can enjoy myself more. I won't have to worry about watching our backs from Death, I can focus on the cases and be better at my work.”

The Cat King nodded, knowing that was true. Edwin did love being a detective, using that big beautiful brain of his to solve puzzles and save the day. It was his calling and it would always be his main priority.

“Sounds like you’ve got it worked out then. Got your dream job, got your weird little situationship with your best buddy. What more could a dead boy want?” he asked, a pleasant but oddly empty smile on his face.

“I want to spend time with you,” Edwin answered with hesitation.

The Cat King’s face fell in surprise at the bald admission.

“I want to talk with you,” Edwin went on. “Speak as equals without a magic bracelet or an urgent case hanging over us.” 

“I’ve never really had your full attention, have I?” the Cat King realized with a pout. “Always such a busy little detective.”

Edwin’s lip quirked upward despite himself. 

“I do take my work very seriously. Too seriously, according to some. But despite appearances, I don’t work all the time. And now it should… feel easier to take time off”

Now he wouldn’t feel so guilty if he wasn’t helping someone every single day.

The implication that Edwin wanted to spend his time off with the Cat King was just delightful. The older man tried but it was clear from the way he had to hide a smile as he playfully feigned a protest.

“Kings are busy too, you know.”

Edwin nodded gravely, as if his eyes weren’t sparkling with mirth just as much as the king’s were. 

“I’m certain we can manage to coordinate our schedules.” 

“To schedule time for a chat?” 

Only a chat? was the unspoken question.

Edwin raised an eyebrow, somehow both humorous and haughty.

“I am amenable to some recreational activities. Or a meal, if you don’t mind being the only one eating.”

“Careful there, ghostie. It's starting to sound like you’re asking me on a date.”

The Cat King could no longer restrain a wide grin. He knew he probably looked like a lovesick idiot. Which was… not inaccurate.

Edwin let himself smile back fully, without restraint. He known all along that the Cat King was intrigued by him, had been attracted to him since that first moment in Port Townsend. But now it was quite clear that it was more than simply a cat’s curiosity, or a hedonist’s lust. Edwin was a bit surprised how the idea of a chaste date had the other man looking like the cat that got the cream.

“I am doing just that,” Edwin confirmed. Then pretended at ruefulness. “And I'm sure you are insufferably pleased about the fact.”

The Cat King chuckled and reached out to take Edwin’s hand.

“Oh you handsome thing, you have no idea.” 

[utilitycaster]

I don't know how you feel about it, but I was extremely frustrated last night when I found out that break was called after around 3 hours. I just felt that at that point they should have just made it a Crown Keepers episode instead of promising that BH would be back and then them barely being in the episode. I don't know, I'm usually really go with the flow with CRs creative choices, but this was just a real big swing and a miss for me. I wish this had all just been its own episode

So here's my feelings:

My thoughts on EXU Prime, and later Kymal, were that I love the player characters and their relationships and much of the worldbuilding (notably all of Niirdal-Poc and the Qoniira Tetrarchy) and I liked many of Aabria's NPCs but there were some pretty big gaps left in "what the fuck is going on" that left me feeling as though I wouldn't mind seeing the characters again but I didn't feel strongly about continuing the story in-world, if that makes sense. The Aevilux reveal, for example, was sort of what the main plot of EXU Prime hinged upon (ie, that was Myr'atta Niselor's motivation; that was what the deal with Ted was) and so the fact that didn't come out for over 2.5 years irl after it ended meant I'd just kind of said "well, some weirdo from Syngorn really wanted to do shit to Opal for some reason related to her sister, who is also her patron, and we don't know why either of these things is the case, and I guess that's what happened" and made my peace with it. Similarly, I don't know what the Nameless Ones want, and never have (other than, at one point, the circlet of barbed vision, and I don't know why they want it). I made a joke that Myr'atta, Poska, and Otohan are all kind of the same and honestly that is the thing: if you don't know why a villain is doing something - even if the reason is "because I love to be evil and terrible!" it's hard to care, and if those are only villains, it's hard to be invested in the story about the heroes either, even if you like the heroes as characters.

When I say I like how this ended, I mean it - I think it could have gone only a few ways, but I like that Morrighan and Opal have both become divine champions, Morrighan willingly and Opal less so (this is yet another case of "the gods don't do take-backsies on oaths", but also, I do feel for Opal despite it all because of Aimee's excellent work throughout). I mentioned how I felt about the exact details of Cyrus's death but I don't mind that he's dead. Fy'ra was a highlight throughout, as she frequently is, and I think she was faced with two extremely unpleasant choices and made a fascinating decision. But I'd have preferred to see this as a flashback (see next paragraph) or like. Just decide what happened. If I'm being extremely honest a lot of my issues with the Crown Keepers portion is that it felt like there was a very specific desired ending (Opal's complete corruption and Cyrus's death); I also said at some point well before that you can only do so much with the Crown Keepers while Dariax is there because Matt does, even if he's turning his brain off to play our Charisma-only kinda short king, know all the cheat codes for the main campaign. It's kind of like why how, even if the DM will control an absent player during RP, they usually have another player control in combat.

I don't mind that the Bells Hells portion was short. I think the choice to break where they did makes sense given everything else that went on. But I think that, criticism of the actual Crown Keepers portion aside, while you might have lost some of your audience for a Crown Keepers-only episode on the main feed, you would have preserved the drama of FCG's death better and gotten people more excited for the Crown Keepers if you had essentially run things exactly as done here but then just cut the two episodes together, which, as a pre-taped medium, they can now do! Hindsight is again 20-20 but: Run the first half of 92 as is. Break and tape a full Crown Keepers episode. Return to Bells Hells and narrate the message back from Dorian saying he'll be there, play out the rest of Bells Hells in the camp dealing with FCG's death, and then have Dorian arrive at the very end of that episode and end the episode when the party asks him what's been going on with him, then reveal there will be a Crown Keepers episode. Air your full Crown Keepers episode as episode 93, and then return to the main campaign with 94. It would have been better balanced in terms of time, people who wanted the Crown Keepers to return would have gotten hyped up, and people who dislike them or are neutral would have at least known what to expect and frankly if they skip the episode that's their choice to make. Hell, since there were 2 weeks? Could have even been like "hey, we'll do a Crown Keepers Marathon on Twitch and Youtube on some random weekday" to build up some hype!

So overall my answer is that I agree this wasn't a great creative choice. I don't think this means they shouldn't take big swings! But some will be misses and this was, while not an entire miss for me, at best a walk.

[bodycountgame]

Hello! I was a big fan of the series a while a go and it is lovely to see that you are back. I'm terribly sorry that other anons put you through a lot with the voting aspect of the game. Absolutely no one deserves death threats for a story that they are bringing to us for free. However, I am not going to lie, I always feel a bit worried when a fandom majority vote is what has long lasting effects on character life/death. It was ok when it was everyone voting with an equal effect. Now there will be a wealth gap to vote. Only people that pay can contribute. And at least where I'm from wealth looks a certain kind of way.

Since you have characters that are in a minority it feels... Bad. Maybe I'm projecting how racist and transphobic my home country is on the vote for this game. I also don't want you to feel like this is an attack on you because that is not my intent at all! I love the diversity in the love interests and it was what brought me to the game initially. I am worried that if you do a majority vote on Patreon that characters that aren't white/cis will face a harsher vote. Trans lives are in danger and I was not surprised when a nonbinary character died first. I was part of the fandom and people treated them very grossly (it actually made me step away for a bit as well). There were many options but the vocally out and proud person got the boot first. What I'm saying is I trust you more than your Patreon supporters. If the people can't all vote as one, due to the actions of some terrible people, then maybe we shouldn't vote at all

anon, i totally understand your concerns because i absolutely shared them. to be completely honest with you, i had totally misjudged which characters i thought were popular or not and watching the three non binary cast members struggle through that first vote felt Bad. my personal disappointment about ellis being the character to receive the least votes in the vote contributed in no small part to the twist in chapter 3 and their revised arc (which was Not planned when i set out writing body count hahaha). howeverrrrrr, i did learn a lot from the process.

my main motivator behind making the vote patreon exclusive was that the voters would be genuinely invested in the game and that the polling would be much harder to game or manipulate. selfishly, i also think it will reduce a certain amount of the absolute barrage of wild anons from the first time around haha!

in addition to that, though, i think its important that i reaffirm what i have said from the start: i am acutely aware that in interactive fiction in general and particularly on tumblr there is a strong preference for white male characters, and i am not here to write some kind of gross POC/women/nb slasher. as much as i want the audience to have a say in the direction the story takes, i ultimately have final say on what happens in the story that i am writing.

the main way that i intend to have oversight of the voting process is by who appears on the polls in the first place; the first poll was the last time the whole cast will be available for a vote at the same time. since ellis, one of three NB cast members, was the first character to die, i've said that neither of the other NB cast members will appear on future polls. if it's women and POC suffering in the next vote, then i'll be applying similar logic. if that means we get towards the end and we need a white boy only poll then so be it!

that said, if people cannot behave then i will simply take away their toys. although i consider the voting mechanic to be one of the things that makes body count unique and fun, i'm absolutely not above doing away with it if there are Shenanigans that spoil it, ya know?

anyway, i hope that assuages some of your concerns! sorry for another giant wall of text wow i simply cannot answer a question concisely atm