#made changes to the flattened version

[samkerrworshipper]

las 15.

mapi leon x reader, alexia putellas x reader (platonic)

warnings: the spanish federation ick

erm look at me posting something 😮 anyways enjoy haha i kinda hate it but need to feed yall somehow

“You need to be aware of the consequences of what could happen if you sign this document.”

You stared down at the mahogany surface of your lawyers desk, it was dark, sanded, smooth and shiny. Contemporary, but it also looked old, like a heirloom. It distracted your from the non stop drawl.

“I don’t care, I’m signing it.”

Your eyes travelled along the surface, lookinbg at the different waves of wood and the way that the dark colours marbled together.

“The RFEF could come for you, they could try and take your license. You might not compete at the world cup, the press will come for you, Vilda will come for you, Barca could reduce your playing time, it could be the end of your career. There are other negatives.”

You’ve thought about all of them of course, how could you not?

“I’ve already said it, I don’t care. Let them come for me, let them do whatever they want. I am done with it all. Fourteen other players have signed it, no? I will be the fifteenth and that is final.”

You weren’t a big fan of your lawyer, he was old and money oriented. He also didn’t have your best interest in mind, his sole focus was earning you as much money as possible, which had been fine up until today.

“So what? You plan to be the best in the world and never play international football again? This will ruin your career, it will put an end to the Ballon D’or campaign, it will change things for you, you can’t just do this because your girlfriend does it as well, this will be detrimental for you.”

The wood grooved at the edges, flattening out and curving so the edges weren’t too sharp.

“I refuse to stand by and submit myself to abuse. That’s what happens every time I go to that place, every time I go to camp I submit myself to abuse, torture, horrific conditions. The fact that you would even dare imply that I would do this for anybody but myself is preposterous. I am better than the condition I am being subkmitted to, I deserve better than to be objectified and treated as if I am dirt on that man’s shoe and I refuse to be treated as such. I have standards for myself and the people around me and I refuse to live by these for much longer. I’ll draft up the letter, I’ll send it to you for editing purposes and once your done you will send it to the RFEF, consequences be damned. You should be glad that I lasted two more windows then everyone else, honestly I’m ashamed that I didn’t do this earlier, but I’m ready to take a stand with everybody else now. I don’t want to play in a World Cup if it means this is how I will live my life.”

You looked up at your lawyer, hoping the fire burning in your soul was reflective in your eyes.

“This is a bad decision, you are thinking with your heart and not your head, this is unlike you.”

You pulled your eyes from the mahogany, standing up from your seat slowly.

“No, I’m thinking with my own interests, not yours, not my managers, not my bank accounts. I’m thinking with my mental health, my emotional health and my physical health. For the first time in my life I am taking time to focus on myself, so tyeah maybe it’s unlike me, but I’d like to think this might be the a better version of me, I’ll email you my letter, all you havr to do is forward it, if it’s such a struggle don’t even bother reading it, I don’t care what you have to say, I’m legally obligated to make you aware of any contractual issues so here I am. Give a fuck, don’t give a fuck, it doesn’t change anything for me, I’ve made my decision and nothing or nobody will make me change my mind.”

You didn’t wait around to hear what he planned to say in rebuttal, exiting the stuffy office as quickly as your legs would allow.

You made it to your car before you felt the tears flooding down your face. Even now, even after you’d tried to speak out you still felt like you were being silenced, like nothing had changed. That’s why you were doing what you were doing, why you knew this was what you needed to do. It didn’t make it any easier though, knowing that no matter what choices you made, even if they were for the good of you there were still going to be people around you who condemned them.

You were supposed to be at training, but you’d taken the day of to finalise all this bullshit. It was frustrating, knowing that the choices you were making for the good of yourself could end up being harmful to your career in a multitude of ways, it was all so fucking hard.

Everybody was at training, and yet here you were balling your eyes out in the carpark of your stupid fucking lawyers office.

If you hadn’t hit rock bottom at the last camp, the this was it, this was your final straw.

It was all too much, you’d been holding out for too long, but the mixture of the other 14 girls refusing to come back and Alexia’s injury had been enough of a motivation for Vilda to try and ruin your life. It had started with extra training after your sessions, then sessions in the mornings, then separating you from the rest of the team, limiting your diet, gym sessions, changing your schedules to everybody elses, punishing you for nothing, treating you like you were a slave to the Spanish Women’s team.

You were the best midfielder they had, excluding Alexia, and she was hurt, you were the scapegoat for the team, you were responsible for the wins and the reason for the losses.

You knew that with your leave, somebody else would end up taking your role, probably Aitana who was far to young to deal with that kind of pain, and you felt bad, you felt more guilty than you thought possible, but you couldnt do it for any longer, you couldn’t act like it wasn’t killing you on the inside for every second that you spent away with those people.

You hated it, you hated feeling like nothing, you hated feeling worthless, you hated living your life like it was pointless, you couldn’t do it for any longer, not when you were giving up every single part of yourself to keep yourself together.

You couldn’t stay how you were, crying in the drivers seat of your car milling over the memories of your last camp, you needed to leave, needed to go somewhere, needed to talk somebody.

Before you really knew what you were doing you’d started driving, letting the tears drip onto your lap and the steering wheel as you frantically drove your way through the city.

You couldn’t be alone, but you also couldn’t handle all the eyes of your teammates, so you drove to the one other place that you could think of where you hoped somebody would be.

You tried your hardest to wipe the tears from your face, but they kept falling, the sleeve of your shirt getting damper by the second as you tried to wipe up the evidence of your breakdown. It was useless, and eventually you gave up, stepping out of your car and ducking your head as you walked towards the lift and navigated your way through the apartment building.

The person you were looking for didn’t answer the door, instead you were put face to face with Olga.

“Hola chica, Ale didn’t tell me she was expecting visitors.”

You bit down on your lip, tapping your foot against the floor as you peeked around Olga, searching for the person you were seeking out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell her, I can go home, I know she’s been busy with her rehab, I don’t even know how I ended up here.”

Olga tugged at your arm before you could spit anything else out, tugging you through the door and closing it from behind you.

“Nonsense chica, you’re very welcome here, Alexia is sitting out on the balcony doing her exercises, she’ll be more than happy to have your company, just head on through, your always welcome here.”

You nodded at Olga, smiling at her as much as you could with your lip still stuck between your teeth.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I really appreciate.”

You tried to ignore the tears that were still dripping down your face, it didn’t feel like you were crying, even though you were, it more felt like you were shedding a layer of yourself, the layer that was holding all of the trauma that you’d been holding in, like it was your way of getting rid of it all.

Alexia’s apartment was meticulously clean as ever, but you spotted her out in the sun easily.

She was standing outside, in a pose similar to ones you did in your yoga sessions.

She looked at peace, like she was calm, like she was serene, the complete polar opposite to how you felt and you really didn’t want to burden her with your problems, but you were here now anyways.

You tiptoed over to the glass sliding door, pushing it open, causing Alexia’s head to peak up at you. She looks at you with curiosity, but doesn;t move, instead her head nods you towards one of the outdoor lounges beside her, which you beeline for.

She stays in her position as she addresses you.

“The appointment with your lawyer didn’t go well then?”

You did a double take as you stared at Alexia, shocked at the information she’d somehow managed to obtain.

“You don’t take me for a idiota do you? Mapi told me you had a appointment you were keeping quiet about this morning, it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out who it must have been with, considering recent events. Although your girlfriend wasn’t smart enough to work it out herself.”

Alexia stayed in her stretch, looking at you as if to prompt you to tell her more.

“Yes, I had a appointment with my lawyer, Alexia.”

Alexia smirked to herself, she was one of the most obersvanet people you knew, nothing got by her, you weren’t all that surprised to find out that this hadn’t.

“You’ll be joining the group then?”

You hadn’t really comes to terms with it, let alone saying it out loud.

“That’s the plan, should be official by tomorrow.”

Tears were still dripping down your face, you couldn’t find yourself caring though.

“Good for you. You deserve better, we all deserve better, may we all hopefully make a change.”

Alexia wasn’t officially a part of the movement, but she was everyway besides a signature as equally involved as everybody else.

“It just feels like i’m letting the team down, that I’m letting everyone down.”

Alexia nodded at you, finally coming out of her stretch and walking over to sit down next to you.

“You’re doing what’s good for you chica, your doing something that is going to make you happier, that is going to make your life better. Nobody else matters beyond that, trust me.”

Alexia looked at you, like she was genuinely struggling to help you out in the moment. She had been your mentor at Barca for forever, you seeked out her advice more than anybody elses, especially in this moment.

“I don’t know how to do it anymore, it’s like he was trying to ruin my fucking life, like his whole purpose for everyday was to make my life a living hell, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t walk around camp acting like it was fine, I couldn’t smile at cameras and talk to the press and tell them about how great I was feeling when it was all lies, all I wanted to do was leave, or sleep, or die, all because of his and his staff. They were hardly feeding me, hardly letting me sleep, hardly giving me a break and expecting me to perform at the same level as everybody else, if not better. I just couldn’t do it anymore Ale, it was too much.”

Alexia’s arm placed itself on your knee, squeezing your covered skin.

“You shouldn’t have to, you needed to leave and you did, you made the right decision chica, you made a impossible decision that will make your life 100 times easier, it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you so incredibly brave for being able to identify that you were being treated wrongly and that you needed to remove yourself from that space.”

The tears kept falling, your pants were slowly becoming soaked with the raw emotion.

“Mapi did it because of the abuse, because she had a legitimate reason, I’m leaving because they worked me a little bit harder than everybody else, it feels like I’m overreacting.”

You could feel Alexia rolling her eyes from beside you.

“Really? Has Mapi told you that?”

Mapi had told you that you deserved the world, you deserved everything you wanted, you deserved to be treated like a queen, not how the RFEF was treating you. She’d told you the decision was yours, that she would support you no matter what you did, but she’d also told you that after every camp you came back with a little bit less of yourself, that Vilda was stripping parts of you away to use at his mercy.

“It’s not the same thing, Patri, Pina, Mapi, they all have good reasons, they’ve all been hurt, Vilda is just trying to make me better, trying to make me worthy.”

Alexia’s hand squeezed tighter.

“You’re lying to yourself and you know it. As long as he is in charge, you aren’t going to get treated how you deserve, none of us are. We’ve all paid our dues, yet they don’t give a shit, they break us all down until we’ve got nothing left to give. They broke me down until I did my acl, if you hadn’t of left they would have done the same to you. It’s nonstop, even if it isn’t the same kind of abuse as Mapi, it’s still abuse, they still rip out every part of you in the process. Each time you come back you have less of yourself to offer, but they keep taking, and taking, they make us feel nothing. It’s a waste, it’s a waste of the wonderful life we’ve all been gifted. We deserve to be happy, we deserve to be free of the pain.”

You nodded your head, you’d been avoiding telling Mapi about all of this. You were conscious that she was still working through a lot of her own trauma, and you didn’t want to reopen scars that were only just beginning to heal.

“I don’t know what to do Ale, I sign the papers, I write the letters and I’m taking a stand, I’m trying to make a change. I stay, I wreck it all, but I keep my career. It feels like I’m at a crossroads with myself, and I can’t talk about it weith Maps because god forbid shes already been through enough with her own struggle through it all, she doesn’t need me on top of that.”

Alexia stood back up, getting back onto her mat and pushing herself into another stretch, all whilst she maintained eye contact with you.

“Mapi’s talked to you about her struggles, si? She’s burdening you with her own problems, yet it doesn’t feel that way, because you love her and you’d do anything to make her pain less. I guarantee she’d feel the exact same way. You’ve been through a lot, none of us will ever be able to completely comprehend what you’ve been through, but if you started talking to your loved ones about it we’d be able to support you better. Or a therapist, I know Barca has been giving you sessions, but I mean a real psychologist, not just a person who tells you that you need a day off. You need somebody to help you, to actually make you feel like you deserve better than how they treated you, because I know that you know that but I don’t think you really believe it.”

The tears were slowly coming to a standstill, slipping less frequently down your face as Alexia talked to you.

“I don’t want to make her hurt any more than she already has.”

Alexia just looked at you, with that double eyebrow raise and little crinkle in her forehead.

“If you think that Maria wouldn’t do anything for you, even if it meant sucking every single inch of pain from your body and putting it into hers, she would do it and she would do it with a smile on her face. Her whole world, her whole solar system revolves around you and she’d want you to talk to her about this. She knows better than anybody else what you’re experiencing, she’s literally been where you are, so why not talk to her about it?”

It was true, for as long as Mapi and you had been together she’d tried to fix every single thing, she would do anything to make you feel better, this didn’t feel the same though.

“She deserves to live in a world where Vilda, where the RFEF, don’t affect her anymore. She signed the petition, she’s cleaned her hands of it all, and I should have done it with her, but I didn’t. I chose to keep playing for the benefit of my career, because I was greedy and decided that a Ballon D’or and any kind of accolade I was a shot at was more important then taking a stand and I hate it. I hate that now that I’ve won things that suddenly it’s all hit me that I don’t like what’s been happening, and I don’t want to support it. Mapi doesn’t deserve to go through it a second time, all because I was greedy.”

Alexia switched sides on her stretch, the sun was radiating off of her olive skin and her blonde hair, she looked ethereal.

“Have you told her anything about it?”

Alexia was frowning, like she was shocked by your actions.

“She knows that I was struggling at camp, she told me I was welcome to talk to her. After the last one she knew something had changed, she told me she was worried and I shook her off, because I thought she was being overprotective, but she was right, she had reason to be worried, I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay, i don’t know how to process it all.”

Alexia nodded.

“Go home, tell her what’s happening, see what she says, I think it’ll be a lot better than whatever you’ve thought up. Mapi has been my bestfriend for years, she’s dated my sister, she’s dated my friends and I can confidently tell you that she loves you more than any of them, you’re her do or die, all she’ll want to do is support you, please just go and talk to her.”

Alexia looked at you with such conviction and honesty that you couldn’t find it in you to try and fight her on the topic.

“Thank you Ale, I needed this, I needed to talk to somebody, needed to feel less crazy.”

Alexia did one last stretch before standing up, pulling you into a tight hug before you could pull away.

“You’re not crazy chica, you’re going through a very real, very hard time, and you deserve to have the people around you show you how much they love you.”

Alexia let go of you, shoving you back towards the door.

“Go talk to your girl, and sign those papers, and be happy, enjoy life, enjoy peace. You deserve it, chica.”

You nodded into Alexia’s shoulder, letting go of her and slipping back into her apartment, leaving her to get back to her stretching.

You shivered when you spotted Mapi’s car already parked in her spot. You knew you’d be cutting it close with getting home earlier then her, but you’d held a silent hope that you would be the first home. You hesitated to exit your car, scared of what the inside of your apartment held. You weren’t scared so much, more a little bit tentative of the conversation that you were about to have, knowing that it could majorly impact your relationship. In your heart, you knew that Mapi would love you no matter what, but it didn’t calm the nerves inside of you as you pulled your keys from the ignition, pulled out the papers that your lawyer had given you and exited your car.

The whole walk from your car, to the elevator and then down the hallway to your apartment had your heart thrumming inside of your chest. Your hands were quite literally shaking as you pushed your key into the door.

You toed your shoes off at the door, slotting them down beside the door before slowly walking your way through the entrance. It wasn’t hard to find Mapi, she was right in front of you, sitting down at the island bench, patting Bagheera and eating a post training salad. You knew that there was one meant for you still sitting on the shelf of your fridge, from when the two of you had meal planned yesterday. She looked so undisturbed, with the afternoon light coming in through the gaps in the blinds and the general silence that you were about to break.

You announce yourself by slinging your bag down against the wall, a loud enough noise that seems to wake Mapi from her happy daze.

She smiles as soon as her eyes set on you and it only makes the weight in your gut feel ten times heavier and the pain in your heart ten times worse.

You wanted to turn around and walk right back out the door you’d just walked through, but you couldn’t, not with the way that Mapi looked at you, like her whole day had been made by your appearance.

“Hola bebita, how was your meeting?”

Mapi’s smiling ear to ear, quite literally, you swear you can see every single one of her teeth. It had hurt you to lie to Mapi about where you were going today, telling her that you’d had a crucial appointment with your manager about some media things, it wasn’t a direct lie. You had met with your manager, instead of it being positive though, it had been quite the opposite.

You didn’t have any words to reiterate to Mapi, so instead you just picked up the papers that were tucked away in your hands and placed them down on the island infront of her.

Mapi looked at you with confusion for a few seconds.

“Just read them, you’ll understand it more once you have.”

Mapi didn’t hesitate, picking up the first piece of paper and scanning over it, before moving onto the second, then the third and so on, till she’d made it through the entire stack.

You stood anxiously on your toes the whole time, balancing from one foot to the other as you contemplated how Mapi was going to reply to this sudden change.

When she did finish, she looked up at you, a lot of questions hidden behind her curious eyes.

“I’m resigning, or requesting they don’t call me up. I don’t want to play for a federation that doesn’t care about me. I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier, but I wasn’t ready and I’m sorry I’m bother you with it now but I’m also sorry I didn’t tell you about it earlier, I met with my lawyer for the first time today to sign the documents and write my statement. If it all goes to plan then they should be out in the next week. I don’t want to do it anymore, I can’t do it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Mapi blinked a few times, like you’d just blindsided her completely, and you figured you had.

“I didn’t even really know it was happening until after last camp, and I just realised that I was so exhausted and so tired and so sick of it all that I couldn’t do it again. I should have done it earlier, I should have been a part of it all from the start but I was scared and I still am scared Maps. This is supposed to be my job, I’m supposed to be grateful for the opportunities I’m given and yet I feel like I’m a fraud and I’m lying when I say that because I’m not grateful and I’m not happy and I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t. I’ve been praying every night that I get injured, so that I get a break like Ale, and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

Mapi just stood up and pulled you into her arms, silencing the rambling and making you realise that you were now crying again.

She slowly led you towards the couch, bringing you into her arms as you tried to take control of yourself.

It felt like every piece of anguish, every piece of fear, every piece of internal hatred was slowly being pulled from your body and it felt so good, like you were somehow being healed.

Mapi wiated until you were coherent enough, until you felt more resurfaced, and less like the bloodn was rushing through your ears and every though of self-doubt was spirally through the different ridges of your brain.

“Princesa, you’ve made this decision for you, si? Not because of me, not because of anybody else, because you believe this is best for you?”

You nodded into her chest, enjoying the feeling of your own skin pressed directly to hers.

“I’m sick of them making me feel this way Maps, I don’t like it, I don’t think it’s right.”

Mapi’s body was surrounding you, her scent, her feel, her everything, and it was all you’d needed today, everything that Alexia had assured you would make you feel better.

Mapi’s salad was forgotten on the counter.

Bagheera was somewhere else.

It was just the two of you, just the two of you to face everything.

“We’re put into boxes, as women, men try to make us be everything and yet nothing. It’s not right, we’re expected to be as good as the men, but we have to behave eloquently, say our pleases and thank yous and never be ungrateful for the piss poor conditions we put up with. We’re supposed to be passionate, but we’re not allowed to over react in any way. We can only underperform, not overperform. There are no expectations for us, because we’re women and we’re supposed to be worse than the men, but they’re are also so many expectations for us to meet. It’s okay for you to be done with that, there is nothing wrong with you saying no to constantly being abused. You’re not a fraud bebita and I’m here for you no matter what. You’re my girlfriend first, a person second and a soccer player last. It doesn’t matter, none of it matters, you matter, you’re feelings and how you feel is what matters.”

Mapi’s hand pulled your head from her neck, her lips connecting with your forehead with ease.

“I’m not doing it anymore Maps. I want to be strong, I want to say no. I want to be a part of the right side of history. I don’t want to sit around pretending everything’s fine when it’s not fine. It’s nowhere near fine and until there is a change it won’t be.”

Mapi nodded, pressing a series of kisses to your forehead.

“Then we’ll work it out, you’ll keep me in the loop and we’ll figure it out together, no more hiding these big feelings from me. We’ll go and see our therapists and take soe time off and do whatever you need to feel safe and happy, because what matters is you, nobody else, si?”

You nodded your head once again, enjoying the same smile that her face was covered in. her lips migrated down to your cheeks, pressing kisses to the rosiest parts, pushing the tears away.

“I’ve got you bebita, we’ve got each other, we’re going to be fine, we all are.”

[mullet-mother]

Eaten, Stuffed, or Mounted?

My first oneshot - ever

TW: Smut below the cut, MINORS DNI

I have a fun tidbit of information for you.

Did you know that when you crash your car the radio doesn’t stop playing?I was made aware of that lovely fun fact after swerving to avoid that damn deer. 

I finally got my ass out of the house for the first time in months after persistent pestering and coaching from my friends to go to their New Years party. I wouldn’t say I was excited, but I was trying to be—hence the obnoxiously loud music blasting through my car’s speakers. I shouldn’t have taken that curve so fast—the visibility was absolute garbage with the snow. The animal jumped out so quickly; I reacted instinctively, and the black ice spun my wheels when I tried to avoid flattening the buck, sending me careening into the trees on the embankment. As I said before, the radio doesn’t stop playing when you crash. I hadn’t considered that my death would consist of me bleeding to death by myself on the side of the road with the speakers blaring ‘Party Rock Anthem’.

What a ridiculous celestial discharge.

When I opened my eyes, I was most certainly not in Kansas anymore. My eyes and nose were not prepared for the onslaught of stimulus they received. It was so, so red. The smell of rust and sulfur stung my nose and eyes. The sounds of screaming also did not help the overwhelming feeling of dread I started to experience. 

While I wasn’t particularly shocked that I ended up in hell, this was also not what I had expected. So many religions have their own versions, most commonly the lake of fire and brimstone. I was not expecting the burning city, dead bodies littering the streets, porn on every billboard, and the twisted and exotic forms of the…residents. It felt like I had entered the most twisted version of ‘Grand Theft Auto’ that someone could have conceived. 

It took only seconds for me to snap out of my shock, when I heard a shout in my direction. I scrambled to my feet and cursed, realizing I was in the insufferable heels and dress I decided to wear for the party. This also made me acutely aware of the difference in my body, but at the time I didn’t have the mental capacity to absorb what had changed, but the heels I wore made the hooves I now had nye-impossible to stand.   A large bear of a man—quite literally—was approaching me with a grin that made my hair stand on end. 

“Going somewhere all dressed up like that by yourself? Or are you just out to get fucked and your cute little tail pulled?” His disgusting maw was drooling and it had nearly made me gag.

It was made apparent that even in death I had no sense of self preservation. 

“Go fuck yourself, you rip-off build-a-bear fuck stain!”

It had slipped out of my mouth faster than I could react, and our big furry friend was not pleased. 

The growls that left his chest and the elongating teeth were not comforting. “You. Fucking. Cunt. I wanted to fuck you, but now I’ve got something else in mind.” His mouth seemed to grow wider, but it was the change in smile on his face that made me bolt so fast I nearly got whiplash as I kicked my way out of those god-awful heels.

I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast before, my hair whipped by my face, my legs burned, and the acrid air stung my lungs with each breath I gulped into my body. I heard him behind me, snarling, screams of other demons, and curses as he barreled them over in his pursuit. I leapt over bodies and pools of blood; I couldn’t remember ever having the ability to run like that. In hindsight, deer can be fucking quick.  I could feel him getting closer and made a sharp turn around a corner in hopes to lose him. 

I landed face first into what felt like a designer pillow. I looked up slowly as a pair of slender arms grabbed my waist to steady me. Mismatched eyes looked down at me with a face of shock, which promptly shifted to confused. I gaped up at the demon in surprise. His confusion shifted to a dazzling smile with a shiny gold tooth. He tried to speak but was quickly interrupted.

“Y’know I usually charg-”

“Please help me; I’m being chased; he’s going to kill me; please help me!”

The tears began to stream down my face before I could stop them, and I began to violently shake.  I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or the fact that I hadn’t had a chance to even absorb my current situation, but I threw every ounce of trust into the stranger that had caught me. 

The demon’s eyes hardened and the smile dropped to a grimace. His arms tightened around my waist, and he quickly ushered me into a limo waiting down the sidewalk. 

He sat me down next to him and turned to look at me. The dazzling smile that he had before returned to his face. He slung his arm around me and pulled me right back up to the fluff on his chest.

“ Nice to meetcha; I’m Angel.”

Angel brought me to the hotel with him, but it was Charlie who insisted that I stay. While I wasn’t necessarily interested in redemption, Charlie was kind, and well…free rent. I was quickly introduced to the rest of the hotel, and became integrated rather quickly. I tried to help where I could, and soon joined the flow of cleaning, cooking, and helping to maintain the state of the hotel. I felt comfortable with the seemingly found family, including a certain Strawberry Pimp.

It was a shock after settling into my body with its new modifications. That fucking deer gave me a lovely parting gift on top of sending me into that tree. While my tattoos were still in their rightful place, the rest of my skin had faded to an off white, almost grey. Hazel eyes shifted to a black sclera and lavender iris. I gained soft ears and an unruly tail spotted with the same rainbow highlighting my black hair. The hooves were definitely an adjustment, no more pedicures for me unfortunately. 

That was six months ago.

Angel became my best friend within hours, we began spending our nights watching TV dramas and bothering Husk at the bar. He also started to pick up on my attraction for the buck in the hotel. I couldn’t deny my interest, but I most certainly pretended to unless it was in the confines of Angel’s room at 4 AM after copious amounts of alcohol. But that’s all it was, attraction.

Alastor and I started out with a friendly disposition; we weren’t friends per-se but we bantered and laughed at ridiculous jokes when in the same company.

That devolved into sarcastic quips and jabs, hiding coffee cups, and constantly trying to get a rise out of each other.

It started when he refused to change the radio station. While I enjoy jazz and the classics as much as anyone—I need variety. “Alastor, please. I have asked you THRICE now—and very nicely I might add—to change the station to something else.”

He continued to ignore me and hum along to the song currently playing and it was starting to really, piss me off. 

“Peepaw, I understand that you’re always reliving your ‘golden years—I get it! But if I have to listen to one more grainy, barely audible man groan about how he’s lonely, I might lose my mind.” 

“My dear, I understand your lack of appreciation for culture and class, but I will not be changing this station. End of discussion.” 

The fucker had the audacity to smirk at me. 

“Class? I’ll show you class, you audacious, virgin,  fuckboy!” 

The radio began to whirl with the changing of stations, moving back and forth—glowing the same purple as my eyes. Then suddenly it stopped, and the most obscene music I could possibly think of began to blare from the radio. A classic - CPR by CupcakKE;

Want your dick soaked? Place it down my throat

Tongue tickle yo' dick but not telling a joke

Peddle in this pussy that's how you rock a boat

It get live in this pussy, I'm not talking Periscope

“What in the fresh hell is that?”

The disgust on his face was absolutely priceless. He demanded that I turn it off, change it. He tried to switch it back himself, but I very clearly said;

“My dear, I understand your lack of appreciation for culture and class, but I will not be changing this station. End of discussion.”

I then began changing the station whenever I damn well pleased. He got one request to change it and if he fought me on it I would put on my most devious hits, all outrageously filthy. This turned our little friendship to a sparring match. 

Husker thus named me the resident ‘shit-disturber’, and ‘almost worse than him’. Both him and Vaggie were absolutely convinced I had a death wish. 

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I just loved seeing his ears flatten out and his smile strain. During my inquiry into whether or not he bleats after the discovery that I have my own (albeit embarrassing) squeak, I thought his head was going to pop off with the crack from his neck. The radio-static was so loud I had to cover my ears—and it was so satisfying.

Angel teased me relentlessly and told me he ‘can’t stand the sexual tension’, which I denied vehemently, as much as I might have wished there was. While he and I constantly teased each other he was always a gentleman regardless. I also found the tall, dark, and creepy vibe rather sexy, but I’d settle for imagining that there’s sexual tension and pushing his buttons.

Which is exactly what I’m going to do today during breakfast. 

As I come down into the dining area everyone is conversing amicably, Alastor looks content, casually sipping his coffee at the head of the table. Unfortunately for him, I had the most delightful thought last night, and I have been impatiently waiting to make it known to the group.

I quietly go to the kitchen and make my iced coffee; the excitement building in my chest. As I go to sit down I can feel the smile on my face spreading even wider.

“Good Morning Everyone!” They all turn their attention in my direction and the strangeness of my enthusiasm. I am usually…unpleasant if I’m out of bed before 10 AM, but I don’t believe anything could ruin my mood today; I could barely sleep with the anticipation of what’s about to transpire.

Alastor looks over his mug in my direction and it’s clear that he is suspicious of my jovial mood—and he should be.

“Alastor! As I was falling asleep last night I was thinking about Vox.”He inhales a sharp breath, and a new rush of excitement wiggles its way up my spine. “ His silly bit about you being venison or cooking you? I just think it’s ridiculous! You’re far too lean.”

Husk sits across from me with a look of abject horror on his face, and I can only continue with unbridled glee.“I mean, can you imagine? Deer are already gamey—with your figure, it would be far too tough to eat!”

The sound of his grip tightening on his cup and the beginnings of crackles in the air only furthers my resolve. 

He responds with clenched teeth and a static filled voice. “Is that so, little doe?”

I nod my head with a determined look on my face - seriousness overcoming my smile. “In my humble opinion yes; I think it would be better to mount you on the wall instead. I’m personally a huge fan of taxidermy.”

Alastor is barely containing his rage at this point when he asks me;

“Maybe we should eat you instead, you’re obviously the better choice on the menu with your proportions, or would you rather be stuffed and mounted on the wall instead, hm?” 

I paint an innocent smile on my face and finish the rest of my coffee out of my cup, making sure to slurp as obnoxiously as I can. I smack my lips and stand up from the table.

“Alastor, I want you to take one good look at this fat ass and tell me if it looks like I give a fuck whether I’m eaten or stuffed.” 

For a moment there is only silence,

A quick look around continues to feed my giddiness. There are looks of horror on Charlie and Husk’s faces; Angel and Vaggie trying desperately not to choke; finally my gaze falls on the man of the hour.

I don’t know if I have ever made him so incredibly mad. His face is red, teeth clenched, smile stretched to its limits. His antlers are slowly growing larger, eyes flickering to radio dials, his body getting larger. The sound of radio static and crackling is nearing uncomfortable levels. 

“Thanks for the lovely breakfast everyone! See you later for group activities.”

As I walk away, I can hear the sound of a mug shattering. On the way back to my room, I am nearly vibrating. The satisfaction of getting such a visceral reaction from both Alastor and the rest of the group was exquisite. ‘Resident shit disturber’ indeed. I’m not naive enough to believe I won’t face extreme retaliation, but I’m ninety percent sure he won’t kill me. 

The rest of the day goes as usual, and I see very little of Alastor. While I’m still riding the high of this morning, I begin to get nervous. He doesn’t attend any group activities, and while that isn’t too far from the norm, it still has my nerves on edge. By the end of the day I’m ready to crawl into bed, get off, and sleep until noon. 

I make it back to my room and slip inside when I hear the door lock behind me and the shadows in the room rising.

I am so, so fucked.

A squeak leaves my mouth when I feel myself dropping into what feels like nothing before landing roughly onto a carpeted floor. I lift my head and see a fireplace, small table, and the open expanse of what appears to be a bayou. The overwhelming feeling of both dread and excitement shoots through my body as I realize exactly where I am. 

I attempt to get up to my feet, but am forced to stay on my knees by the large clawed hands squeezing my shoulders. Alastor is bent at the waist; he’s larger than normal, with a strained smile and antlers out; his clear red eyes are the only clue to his dwindling self control. He puts his face directly in front of mine and my skin prickles from the static. 

“Hello little doe, are you pleased with your lovely little performance at breakfast?” 

“Were you not? I thought it was excellent.” 

“Why are you so intent on being a vexing little Brat?” He loses his static the moment he says ‘brat’. A clear voice filled with true frustration. 

The sound of his voice causes my cunt to slick and my body heat to rise. My cheeks flush in embarrassment, and for once in my life, I have no response. I just continue to stare into the glowing red eyes that are searching mine for some semblance of an answer. Maybe Angel was right and it was sexual tension?

His right hand comes to wrap around my throat; his left finds my hip as he guides me up off of the floor. I’m now standing in front of him, having to crane my neck to look up into his eyes, his size dwarfing mine. I can feel my breathing getting heavier and my slick soaking through the fabric of my panties.

“Tell me, What would you prefer? Being stuffed, eaten, or mounted on the wall?” His eyes narrow as he squeezes the hand around my throat, and my mouth goes dry. I try to think of a proper response, but my brain is fogged with his eyes, his cologne, and the heat consuming every inch of my body. 

All I can do is close my eyes, whimper and lean into the hand around my throat. I feel him squeeze, and I know he’s demanding an answer. I look up at him, and I can feel the tears gathering in my eyes; I can feel my heart pounding in my chest in anticipation. 

“Anything Al; whatever you want.”

I feel a tongue slide up my cheek; he groans deeply, and I can feel his claws digging into my hip. His lips hover over mine and I move to close the distance but his hands stop me. He moves his hands to my cheeks and squeezes them together, my mouth popping open.

“Open your eyes, doe; look at me. You will get whatever I deem to give you. You will not cum unless I say so, you will beg for release and will not get it until I deem you worthy of such pleasures after your abhorrent behavior. Are we clear, Brat?” 

I let out a soft moan as a response.

His smile widens and a soft phrase leaves his lips that turns me to mush. “Good girl.”

Another fall into nothingness, and my back is on soft sheets, any clothing I had gone. He’s standing at the end of the bed, studying my naked body and I’m suddenly shy being so exposed. I move to cover myself when I see the thick black

Tentacles surge from behind him to grab and trap my arms and legs. My arms are pulled above my head, my knees bent, and legs spread. The hungry look on his face has me blushing and closing my eyes, which fly back open when I feel his long wet tongue slip through my folds. It pulls a high pitched moan from my throat and a groan from him.

“Maybe I should just eat you, little brat, keep you tied to this bed just for me.”

He continues to slowly lick and suck on my clit, just enough to bring me close to the edge, only to switch techniques and rip me away from it again, fucking me with his tongue, swirling it around my clit slowly, flat tongued laps through my folds. Tears prick at the edge of my eyes before I start begging.

“Al, Al, please; I can’t take it anymore; please let me cum. I need it; please, I’m begging you!”

He just continues with a torturous pace and keeps his smile in place. 

“Fuck me; stuff me; I don’t care, please! I need to cum; I need it, please!”

He stops and brings his face to mine, a smirk there, his lips shining. “I want a nice, sincere apology from you, Brat. For your atrocious performance and disrespect today.” 

“I’m so, so sorry Al; I promise I won’t ever do it again; I’ll be so good for you. Please let me cum; please fuck me; I’ll be good!”

As soon as I finish, his lips are on mine; they’re soft and bruising. This kiss is tongue and teeth and months of repressed sexual desires. My hands are suddenly released, and I’m instantly ripping at his shirt and pants. My hands can’t move fast enough. My mind is spinning, and my body is aching with need. 

I finally feel his length hot and heavy on my cunt; it slides easily through my soaking folds and we both moan at the contact. He opens his eyes and looks into mine, always the gentleman. “I  need to hear a yes, darling,” he moves his mouth down to my neck; I can feel his teeth gently scraping against my skin. 

The softness of the question makes my heart swell in my chest, “Please, yes, Al; I need you.”

With one rough thrust, he stretches and fills me, his hips flush against mine. I’m so unbelievably full, his tip pressing and pushing against my cervix. He slowly pulls out, dragging his cock against my oversensitive walls before roughly thrusting back inside. I can feel myself gushing around him with each rough thrust in, soaking my and his thighs.

I’m babbling and crying out his name over and over. Begging him for more.“Please make me cum, Alastor; I want to cum all over your cock; I want to feel you cum inside me; I’m begging you!” My eyes are glassy and staring into his own.

He picks up his speed, ramming himself in and out of me roughly. He brings a claw down to press and circle my clit, then gently kisses my lips and whispers into my ear, “You’ve been so patient, little doe; such a good girl. Cum for me.”

One hard thrust, and a scream is ripping through my throat as hot thrumming pleasure surges through my body; I can feel my heartbeat in every cell of my body. Before I have time to recover, he continues his brutal pace, “One more, darling. I need you to give me one more.”

“I can’t; it’s too much I can’t!”

“You can; cum with me. I need to feel you milking my cock.”

He tilts my hips, and the position has him hitting that spot inside me over and over again. I can feel the tingling heat starting to grow in my abdomen once more. I tell him I’m getting close, and he doubles his efforts. Sweat drips down his forehead; I can feel his cock getting hotter inside me. He grabs my knees and pushes them to my chest, bending me in half. The position sends his cock even deeper inside me. 

I’m screaming his name, no doubt the entire hotel hearing my cries of absolute bliss. His thumb returns to my clit and presses down firmly, rubbing those perfect circles. With his mouth by my shoulder, he commands me again,“Cum with me, now.”The moment I feel him spilling his hot seed inside me and his teeth in my shoulder, another orgasm sends electric waves through my body.

I slowly come back down and open my eyes; he’s back to his regular self, seemingly relaxed. 

“Hey Alastor, I have a question.”

“And what is that, little doe?”

-“Do I just have to get you really pissed and you’ll fuck me like that again?” 

Thank you so much to the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes for editing for me! You're amazing!

[persephonaae]

TERFs GO AWAY I’m nonbinary and as this is a look that is about exploring my own identity, gender is included in that. I’m not a woman, I am not your “divine feminine”. An edit I wish I didn’t have to make.

Here are some of the pictures of the Minoan/Mycenaean look I did yesterday! Mind you, it's all very generalized since I haven't made any clothing studies from these time periods yet, so I had just grabbed random clothes and jewelry from my closet that I could at least pass off as the ~vibe~ . I went for a pretty simple interpretation of makeup back then and ended up not really putting a whole lot on my face before the decorative elements, just a very thin amount of white foundation, but even so I figured my skin is pretty pale as it is that if this were historical I probably would have just been fairly bare faced anyway in a similar fashion. I tried to stay pretty close to how makeup might be applied back then and not go too anachronistic, and if I did it was for photographic or artistic purposes (namely, light contouring on my nose not for any sort of like, modern feature minimization, but to make sure my own Greek ethnic features weren't flattened by lighting levels or camera perspective)

Overall this was a really fun exploration of historic culture! Seeing the finished makeup on myself kind of brought over this cultural euphoria for me, even though many things have changed since ancient Mediterranean civilizations, there's almost a feeling of sameness in exploring the history of your heritage and seeing someone who looks or feels like you in ancient art. (But also a brief little disclaimer: the Mediterranean has been an extremely diverse region for thousands of years! I'm just one way of looking and that absolutely isn't representative of all people of Greece, neither then nor now!) I want to explore more historical fashions within this realm, and next time try a more extreme version of the makeup, something that feels more on the ceremonial side than casual like this one.

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Economic Hockey Boys Part Two: The Gradual Takeover

__________________

This story has been in the making for a while, and I kind of quit in the middle of it for months. I couldn’t find an ending or the right direction. I hope you all enjoy this version; I think I started over at least two times.

part one here: https://hardwriterdeluxe.tumblr.com/post/727576341242920960/economic-hockey-boys

_______________

Alex’s plan was meticulous, calculated to usurp Max's place both on the team and in the social hierarchy. It began subtly, with Alex hanging around Max more often, always conveniently there to assist or "help" whenever Max needed it. He started emitting a new, strong smell with a musk that seemed to dominate the air around him. The scent was potent, masculine, and it slowly began to take hold in the locker room.

At first, Max didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He was too focused on maintaining his status as captain and the team's star player. But the others started to change in their behavior. They began looking to Alex for guidance, respecting his opinions more and more, while Max found it increasingly difficult to command the same respect.

One evening, after a particularly intense practice, Alex approached Max in the locker room. The space was filled with the pungent scent of sweat and Alex’s overpowering musk. Max was exhausted, sitting on the bench, wiping his face with a towel. Alex, freshly showered but still emanating that musk, sat beside him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You okay, Max?” Alex asked, his tone laced with a mix of concern and something else—something that made Max uneasy.

“Yeah, just tired,” Max replied, trying to muster his usual confidence.

“Maybe you should take it easy,” Alex suggested, lifting his arm to adjust his jersey, exposing his pit. The musk hit Max like a wave, making him feel dizzy and disoriented. “You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard.”

Max nodded, unable to shake the feeling of Alex’s dominance growing stronger with each passing day. The musk seemed to cling to him, invading his senses even after he left the locker room.

Over the next few weeks, the transformation began in earnest. Max started to lose weight, his muscular frame slowly wasting away. His once-bulging biceps shrank, his pecs flattened, and his six-pack abs softened into a smooth, slender torso. His legs, once powerful and thick, became thin and frail. His skin lost its healthy tan, turning pale and almost translucent. His face softened, his jawline losing its sharpness and becoming more delicate and androgynous.

The changes weren’t just physical. Max’s confidence waned as he found it harder to assert himself. The team, too, started to notice but couldn’t quite put their finger on what was happening. Alex, on the other hand, grew more robust. His muscles became more defined, his presence more commanding. He had started taking Max's place not just in performance but in the hearts and minds of their teammates.

Max’s clothes began to change as well. His gear, once snug and highlighting his athletic build, became loose and baggy. His jersey, bearing the captain's insignia, was replaced with a simple tracksuit labeled "WATER BOY" on the back. His locker, once prominently positioned among the team's stars, vanished, leaving him with a small, inconspicuous cubby near the entrance.

“Hey, Maxie, can you grab us some water?” one of the players called out one day. Max looked up, realizing with a start that he had been demoted to a mere water boy. The name "Maxie" stuck, a cruel reminder of his new position. His memories of leading the team, of scoring goals and celebrating victories, began to blur, replaced by feelings of awe towards Alex and secret crushes on the more manly players.

The team quickly took advantage of Maxie's new role. They would make fun of him, teasing him mercilessly. "Hey, Maxie the Service Boy, clean out my locker!" they'd jeer, throwing smelly gear at him, the odor overwhelming his senses. The once-proud captain was now an easy target for their taunts, his weakened state making him unable to fight back.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, the team decided to play a prank on Maxie. At Alex's suggestion, they locked him into a locker filled with reeking gear, the pungent smell of sweat and musk suffocating him. Maxie banged on the door, pleading to be let out, but the boys just laughed and walked away.

Finally, Alex came to "rescue" him. He opened the locker, a look of mock concern on his face. "Having fun, Maxie?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Maxie stumbled out, his eyes watering from the stench. "Please, Alex, I can't take this anymore," he begged, his voice trembling.

Alex's smirk widened as he grabbed Maxie by the collar and pulled him close. "You'll do whatever I say, won't you, Maxie?" he whispered, his breath hot against Maxie's ear.

Maxie nodded, unable to resist the overpowering musk emanating from Alex's body. Alex pushed him down to the floor, standing over him in nothing but his musky socks, jockstrap, and pits reeking from practice. "Show me how much you appreciate your new role," he commanded.

Maxie, his mind clouded by the intoxicating scent, obeyed without question. He serviced Alex, his actions driven by a mix of submission and a strange, overwhelming desire. Alex watched with satisfaction, knowing that he had completely dominated and owned Maxie, at least within the confines of the locker room.

From that night on, Maxie was Alex’s toy, a secret shared between the two of them. The team continued to win, celebrating their new captain and hero, Alex, while Maxie's presence faded into the background. In the quiet moments, away from prying eyes, Maxie and Alex found solace in each other, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Alex had successfully stolen Max’s life, and in doing so, they had found an unexpected connection that neither had anticipated.

Hope you all liked it, comment down below!

[letsgetrowdy43]

The Greatest (Rowan’s Version)—

Quinn Hughes x Honey Hughes

Warnings: Quinn is a dick in this, a little blurb on being physically intimate but no details, a lot of angst and crying… lmk if there is anything I missed!!

Inspired by “The Greatest” by Billie Eilish

Au Masterlist!!

"I'm trying my best to keep you satisfied Let you get your rest, while I stayed up all night"

Honey tiptoed down the dimly lit hallway, her slippers brushing against hardwood as she neared her daughter's door, warm milk in hand as she rounded the corner. The soft glow from Hayden’s nightlight seeped out from under her bedroom door, casting a gentle light that barely reached the hall. She paused, her hand hovering over the door handle, listening to the faint, rhythmic breathing from inside. Finally, it seemed Hayden was asleep.

It had been a long and tiresome evening. Hayden had been restless, unable to settle down no matter what Honey tried. There were lullabies, stories, and even a glass of warm milk that now remained untouched in Honey's hands as she let out a content sigh. Nothing seemed to work and Honey could feel her patience fraying with each passing hour, but she kept her voice soothing and her movements gentle, knowing her daughter needed her calm presence more than anything else.

The woman took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, peeking around the corner to ensure Hayden was indeed asleep. Her daughter lay curled up under the covers, clutching her favourite stuffed orca, its worn material peeked out from the blanket. Honey's heart ached with a mixture of love and exhaustion at the sight, quietly rejoicing at the fact she could finally crawl back into her own bed after nearly an hour of restless crying.

She tiptoed inside, gently adjusting the blanket around Hayden’s small frame, then placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered as her fingers flattened out her messy curls before slipping out of the room.

She made her way to the master bedroom, her body feeling heavy with fatigue. The door creaked as she pushed it open, revealing the familiar silhouette of Quinn already in bed. His back was turned to her, his breathing deep and steady, indicating he was fast asleep.

Honey sighed, her shoulders slumping as she quietly closed the door behind her. She changed into one of Quinn’s old shirts and a pair of shorts, her movements slow and deliberate, the weight of the day pressing down on her as she examined her tired eyes in the mirror.

Climbing into bed, she reached out to touch Quinn, seeking comfort in his warmth, “Quinn?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her fingers raked through his bed head. He mumbled something incoherent, rolling over to the other side, his body curling away from her touch. Honey's hand fell limply onto the mattress. The rejection, however unintentional, stung more than she expected. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back.

She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The room was enveloped in darkness, the only sound the gentle hum of the fan above their bed. The tears she'd been holding in began to spill over, sliding silently down her cheeks. She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling the cries that threatened to escape.

Honey's mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic swirl. She felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness, despite Quinn's presence just inches away. The day’s events replayed in her mind: Hayden’s sleeplessness, the unending chores, hockey filling every aspect of her life, and the constant demands of motherhood. And now this—the coldness of the night, the silence between her and Quinn.

She turned her head to look at him, his form just a dark outline against the cream-coloured sheets, his face turned away from her so she couldn't admire the man she loved the most. She remembered the early days of their marriage, when they couldn't wait to be close to each other, when even a goodnight kiss felt like a cherished ritual. Now, it seemed like a distant memory, replaced by exhaustion.

★★★★

"And you don't wanna know how alone I've been Let you come and go, whatever I state I'm in"

Honey sat in the stands, the metal was cold and unforgiving beneath her legging-covered legs, stinging her skin as she listened to the sounds of sticks on ice and skates cutting the ice. She adjusted her position, tucking a blanket around her legs for warmth, and glanced at her watch for what felt like the hundredth time.

Where was Quinn?

Warren’s hockey game was well underway, it was the biggest game of the year, the tryouts for the BC Junior Canucks team for the Brick Tournament Invitational. The players glided across the ice with practiced precision, the sound of hockey echoing through the arena as they all worked to get a spot of the team for one of the biggest tournaments for the children of Vancouver.

She could see Hayden a few rows down, playing among the other kids, their faces lit with excitement as they rang the tiny cowbells in their hands and cheered on their siblings, friends, and family members on the ice. Honey smiled despite herself, the sight of her daughter’s joy lighting her mood as Hayd looked over to her and grinned as she sent her mom an excited wave. She turned her attention back to the ice, cheering loudly as Warren made a skillful pass to a teammate.

The other moms were gathered in clusters around her, chatting and laughing, their voices a backdrop to the action on the ice. Honey tried to engage, nodding and smiling at the appropriate moments, but she had trouble meshing with the other women within the room, and besides her mind was elsewhere.

Quinn had promised to be here. He’d assured her he’d make it this time, that he wouldn’t let Warren down again, or make her create excuses for his absences.

As if on cue, she heard a familiar buzz ripple through the stands. Turning, she saw Quinn making his way down the aisle, offering sheepish smiles and waves to the guardians who greeted him warmly.

He was almost an hour late, but his arrival was met with an outpouring of praise.

Typical

“There he is!” one of the Dads exclaimed, clapping Quinn on the back as he made his way to his wife. “He's so supportive my god” a mother mumbled to another, "and so handsome."

Honey’s heart clenched, she watched as Quinn accepted the adoration, his face flushed from the cold or perhaps embarrassment. He caught her eye and gave her a small, apologetic smile before making his way over to her. She forced herself to smile back, though it felt like a big lie.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, Tocch was relentless today,” he said, sliding onto the bench next to her, his arm wrapping around her as he pulled her into his side, ruining the perfectly tucked blanket under her legs to be pressed up against him. “It’s okay,” Honey replied, her voice softer than she intended. “Warren’s been playing really well.” Quinn nodded, his attention shifting to the game. Honey could feel the eyes of the other moms on them, their whispered comments just loud enough to be heard.

“He’s such a good dad,” one woman said. “He must be so busy with work, but he always makes time for his family,” another chimed in.

Honey bit her lip, feeling the sting of their words. She wanted to confront them, let them in on the fact that it wasn’t the whole truth, that she was the one who shouldered most of the burdens at home, the one who stayed up late with Hayden, the one who made sure Warren got to his practices on time. But she stayed silent, the weight of her unspoken frustrations pressing down on her as she leaned into her husband's side, cheek pressed up against her shoulder as they watched their son as his hand held hers in his lap.

The game continued, and Quinn joined in the cheers and shouts, his enthusiasm contagious. Honey watched him, a mixture of love and resentment swirling in her chest. He had this effortless way of charming everyone, of making his rare appearances seem like grand gestures of devotion.

Meanwhile, her constant presence and her relentless efforts went unnoticed by all.

As the final buzzer sounded, Warren’s team erupted in cheers. They had won, and the stands were a flurry of excitement as the boys piled on top of each other, slipping all over the ice as they screamed with excitement. Warren skated over to the boards, his face flushed with pride as he slammed into the glass ingront of his family, Honey couldn’t help but smile at him.

Warren beamed at the sight of his dad, his eyes bright as he looked up at his parents, “did you see my goal?” he looked at his father with excited eyes as Quinn nodded. “You did awesome bud!” Quinn replied, completely ignoring Warren's question as he motioned for his son to go and join the rest of the team in the locker room Honey stood, gathering her things. “Come on, Hayden, let’s go get your brother,” she called, her voice steady as Hayd separated from her friends and ran over to her parents, jumping into Quinn's arms as they headed in the direction of the locker room.

They made their way down to the locker room, joining the crowd of parents and children waiting for the swarm of sweaty lost game kids. Honey hugged Warren tightly, her heart swelling with pride. She glanced at Quinn, who was chatting animatedly with the other dads and felt a pang of loneliness.

As they walked to the car, Warren and Hayden chattering excitedly about the game, Honey felt Quinn’s arm slip around her shoulders. She looked up at him, his face softened with a rare tenderness that she hadn't seen in a while. “I’m really sorry I was late,” he said quietly. “I’ll do better, I promise.” Honey nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I know you will,” she whispered.

Honey allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things would get better.

★★★★

"Man, am I the greatest? My congratulations. All my love and patience, all my admiration. All the times I waited for you to want me naked. Made it all look painless (painless), man, am I the greatest?"

Bedtime was Honey’s favourite time of the day.

She helped Hayden into her pyjamas and listened to the recounting of her playdate with her best friend Paige. After a few bedtime stories and a goodnight kiss, Hayden finally drifted off to sleep, the woman tucked the blankets around her daughter, smoothing the hair from her forehead before turning on her pink butterfly nightlight and off the big light.

In Warren’s room, Quinn was already saying goodnight. Honey joined them, pressing a kiss to Warren's temple and sat quietly as Quinn finished up his bedtime story. She lingered in the doorway, watching as Quinn gave their son a goodnight kiss and ruffled his hair.

“Love you,” Quinn said, his voice warm. “Night, Mom. Night, Dad,” Warren said, his eyes heavy with sleep. “Goodnight baby,” Honey replied softly.

They walked down the hallway together, and the house finally quieted. Honey’s heart beat faster as they approached the door to their bedroom. She longed for Quinn’s touch, for the intimacy that had become so rare. She needed to feel loved, to bridge the distance that seemed to grow wider each day.

As they entered their bedroom, Quinn went straight to their bathroom, starting his usual nighttime routine. Honey changed into a soft nightgown, choosing one she knew he liked, she looked at herself for a second, nitpicking her appearance and trying to shake the ugly feeling that had been brewing in her chest. She sat on the edge of the bed, nervously waiting for him to return.

When Quinn finally came out, face washed and changed he looked tired. He crossed the room and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up and lying back with a sigh. Honey took a deep breath and moved closer to him, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Quinn,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, embarrassed at the words about to leave her mouth, “can we... It’s been a while, and I miss you.” He turned his head to look at her, his eyes dull with exhaustion. “Honey, I’m really tired. It’s been a long day,” he mumbled, shifting slightly to put more distance between them as he pulled the comforter up to his chest.

“But,” she said, her voice cracking, “I just- I thought maybe- I miss being close to you.” Quinn sighed heavily, his frustration evident. “I know, Honey, but not tonight, okay? I just don’t have the energy.”

Honey’s heart sank.

She withdrew her hand, feeling the sting of rejection deep in her chest. She turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes filling with tears. She felt Quinn shift beside her, but he didn’t reach out, didn’t try to comfort her.

The silence between them was deafening.

She bit her lip, the darkness of the room seemed to press in on her, amplifying her loneliness, the coldness that occupied the space between them. She felt a profound sense of isolation, even with Quinn lying just inches away. She turned her head to look at Quinn, hoping for some sign that he still cared, that he still wanted her, not even intimately, just in general. But he lay still, his back turned, lost in his own world of exhaustion and detachment.

Honey closed her eyes, the ache in her chest growing unbearable. The rejection was too fresh, the pain too much as she silent tears soaking into the pillow. Reminiscing of a time when Quinn would look at her the way he once did, with love and desire in his eyes.

★★★★

"Doing what's right without a reward And we don't have to fight, when it's not worth fighting for (fighting for)"

The sun had set and tensions remained high between Quinn and Honey, the couple was now en route to the yearly Canucks for Kids charity ball.

The silence in the car was thick and uncomfortable, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Honey stared out the window, watching the street lights beginning to turn on as they sped down the highway, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her dress. Quinn’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the fraying ends of a very happy relationship.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Honey thought, her mind drifting to the previous night’s rejection and the growing abyss between them. She had hoped that tonight’s event might provide a chance to rekindle the growing disconnect, to be with the people closest to him and enjoy each other, but now, it felt like just another obligation, another performance.

“Can we talk about last night?” Honey finally asked, breaking the silence. Quinn sighed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Honey, I’m really not in the mood for this right now. We have to be at this event in fifteen minutes, can’t we just focus on that?” “No, Quinn. We can’t keep ignoring this,” Honey insisted, her voice rising slightly. “We’re falling apart, and you don’t seem to care. I’m trying to reach out to you, but you keep pushing me away.”

“I do care, Honey, but I’m exhausted,” Quinn replied, frustration creeping into his tone, “I have a lot on my plate right now, with the team and home, and I can’t deal with everything at once.” “And I’m not exhausted? I’m not dealing with a lot?” Honey shot back, her anger roaring at his constant invalidation of her issues, “It’s not just about you, Quinn. We’re both in this, and we both need to make an effort.”

Quinn glanced at her, his expression a mix of weariness and annoyance, his grip on the wheel slightly tightening as he turned back to look at the road. “I know you’re tired too, but right now we need to get through this evening. Can we please just put on a smile and get through it, we can argue more later tonight if that's what you wanna do.” Honey swallowed hard, feeling the sting of his words, “Fine,” she said quietly, turning back to the window.

“Let’s just get through it.”

They pulled up to the venue, the grand entrance lit with lights and green and blue balloons creating a walkway for attendees. The valet took the car, and Quinn and Honey stepped out, their faces immediately transforming into practiced smiles. Honey looped her arm through Quinn’s, her grip tighter than necessary as he looked at her pointedly.

As they walked into the lavishly decorated ballroom, they were greeted with warm smiles and enthusiastic welcomes. Quinn’s colleagues and their spouses mingled, laughter and chatter filling the air. Honey plastered a bright smile on her face, the mask of contentment slipping into place.

“Honey, Captain Hughes! So glad you could make it!” one of the Canucks investors called out jokingly throwing the nickname to grab their attention, shaking Quinn’s hand and giving Honey a polite kiss on the cheek, “You both look wonderful.” “Thank you,” Honey replied, her voice sweet and soft, “they outdid themselves again this year” “Don't be modest Hun," Quinn said sincerely, "She's on the board, she helped with the planning." “Well then thank you for your hard work against this year!”

They made their way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk. Honey’s smile never wavered, even as her heart ached with the unresolved tension between her and Quinn. She watched him interact effortlessly, his charm and charisma on full display.

To everyone else, they were the perfect couple, a united front.

As the evening progressed, Honey found herself at the edge of the dance floor, watching couples sway to the music. She glanced over at Quinn, who was deep in conversation with a group of donors. He caught her eye and gave her a small, awkward smile, she could see his anticipation to get away from the networking and back at her side.

It was like a short moment of the old Quinn, awkward, in love with her, she missed it.

Taking a deep breath, Honey walked over to him, her steps deliberate and aching to save him and have her close once again. “Sorry guys, you wouldn't mind if I stole my husband for a dance would you?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. He hesitated for a moment before nodding and excusing him. “Happy wife, Happy life,” he joked, excusing himself from the conversation and taking her hand.

They moved onto the dance floor, the music enveloping them. Quinn placed a hand on Honey’s waist, and she rested hers on his shoulder. They swayed to the rhythm, their movements stiff and mechanical at first. Gradually, the music loosened the tension.

“I’m sorry,” Honey whispered, her voice barely audible over the melody, “I don’t want to fight. I just want us to be okay.” “I know,” Quinn replied, his tone softer now as her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she melted into him slightly, “I’m sorry too. We’ll figure this out, Honey. We have to.”

★★★★

"And you don't wanna know what I would've done Anything at all, worse than anyone"

The warming morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the room. Honey poured herself a cup of coffee, savouring the brief moment of calm before the day’s chaos began.

Quinn’s mother, Ellen, had come for a short visit, and Honey was grateful for the company during this long stretch of away games.

Ellen entered the kitchen, her blonde hair neatly pulled back into a clip, a gentle smile on her face as she looked to her daughter in law through the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Morning, Honey. How did you sleep?” “Morning, it wasn't too bad,” Honey replied, though the truth was she had barely slept, she gestured to the coffee pot, “Can I get you a cup?” “Please,” Ellen said, taking a seat at the kitchen table across from where Honey's book lay open face down on the table.

Honey poured a second cup and handed it to her mother-in-law before sitting down across from her. They sipped their coffee in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds that occupied the air were the birds chirping outside and the distant buzz of people getting in their cars and heading to work.

“How are things, Hun?” Ellen asked, her eyes soft with concern, “you look tired.” Honey sighed, setting her cup down. “It’s been... well it's been challenging lately,” she admitted, “Quinn and I are struggling a bit and the kid's lives are starting to get busier. We’re both so occupied and exhausted, and it's been a lot.”

Ellen reached across the table, placing a comforting hand over Honey’s, “Marriage isn’t always easy, especially when life gets demanding.” “I just don’t know what to do anymore,” Honey said, her voice trembling, “I try to reach out to him, but he’s always so tired or preoccupied. And when I bring it up, we end up arguing,” the tears started as she quickly wiped them away and stared at her coffee cup.

“I just feel so lonely,” she admitted, a little weight lifting off of her chest as her free hand drummed on the table.

Ellen nodded, her expression thoughtful, “I can see how much you’re hurting. Clearly, you love Quinn and want to make things work.” “I do,” Honey said, tears welling up in her eyes, “I just don’t know how to get through to him.”

It felt weird admitting all of this to her husband's mother, but Ellen always listened, always advised, and she knew how to make things better.

Ellen squeezed her hand gently, “Quinn’s always been the type to shoulder burdens silently, thinking he’s protecting those he loves, you need to confront that Hun, he needs to know he's hurting you.”

If there was one thing Ellen felt deeply about it was accountability, and that belief did not fall blindly in her sons.

Honey wiped a tear from her cheek. “So, what do I do?” “Sometimes, it helps to approach these conversations when the tension is lower.” Honey nodded, “It’s hard to find a good moment with him lately,” she dryly laughed, such a bizarre thought to infer that Quinn was difficult when he had always been nothing less than perfect for the entirety of their marriage up until this point.

Ellen smiled kindly, “he’ll listen Hun, you just have to be honest with him and not hold back that you're hurting.

The older woman leaned back in her chair, her gaze distant for a moment. “You know, Honey, when Jim and I were your age, we went through something similar. There were times we barely spoke, he had coaching, and I had the boys and worked on top of it. It took a lot of patience, and we both had to learn to communicate better.” Honey looked at Ellen with a newfound level of respect, something so eye-opening about the vulnerability that occupied the space between them.

“How did you get through it?” “By remembering why we fell in love in the first place,” Ellen said softly, “We made an effort to fix it, we moved around so I wouldn't be the primary caregiver while he was off coaching, we started to make quality time a priority, and we sought help when we needed it. There’s no shame in asking for guidance, whether from a counsellor or someone else.”

Honey nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, Ellen. I really needed to hear that.” Ellen smiled warmly. “You and Quinn have a strong relationship. Sometimes, it just takes a bit of work to clear away the aggravation and find the connection again.”

★★★★

"Man, am I the greatest? My congratulations. All my love and patience, all my admiration. All the times I waited for you to want me naked. Made it all look painless (painless), man, am I the greatest?"

Honey sat at the kitchen table, the house eerily quiet with Quinn away on a road trip. The kids were asleep, and the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock and the microwave that was reheating the dinner that she hadn't had the chance to eat until everything settled for the night.

She stared at her phone, the screen glowing softly in the dim light. She had been debating whether to call Quinn, wanting to bridge the gap between them, but fearing another argument. Taking a deep breath, she dialled his number.

It rang a few times before he answered, his voice crackling through the line. “Hey, Hun,” Quinn said, sounding tired but happy to hear from her. “How are things at home?”

“Hi, love,” Honey replied, her voice heavy with fatigue as she finally took a deep breath at the sound of his voice, “I just wanted to talk. I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed this trip.”

She could hear the concern in his voice, “I know, Honey. I’ve been thinking about you and the kids a lot. How’s Hayden? And Warren?” “They’re good,” Honey said, managing a small smile despite her exhaustion, “Hayden had trouble sleeping again last night, and Warren’s been busy with his big science project. It’s just... a lot to handle on my own.” Quinn sighed, “I wish I could be there to help more. I know it’s hard.”

“It’s not just about the help anymore Quinn. I miss you. I miss us.”

There was a pause on the other end, and Honey could almost hear him thinking, “Have you ever thought of quitting your job to have more time for them?” Honey’s grip tightened on the phone, her breath catching in her throat at such a stupid question on his end, “What did you just say?”

“I mean,” Quinn continued, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing on the other end, “if you weren’t so stressed with work, maybe things would be easier at home. You could focus on the kids more, and we wouldn’t be so—” “Are you being serious?” Honey interrupted, her voice rising with anger. "I just—"

“You think quitting my job is the solution? You think I should just give up my career, something I’ve worked so hard for, just to make things easier for you?” “That’s not what I meant, Honey,” Quinn said, his tone defensive, “I just thought it might help—” “Help who? You?” Honey’s voice shook with rage and hurt.

“You’re away playing hockey, doing what you love, and you think I should just abandon my dreams and ambitions to pick up the slack? I’ve supported you every step of the way, and now you want me to sacrifice my career for you?”

“Honey, please,” Quinn pleaded. “I didn’t mean it like that.” But it was too late. The words had already cut deep, and Honey felt a surge of betrayal

“You have no idea what it’s like to balance everything, to be there for the kids, to manage the house, and still try to hold onto a piece of myself, don't even get me started on the way you have torn apart our marriage with your 'tired because of the team' bullshit. You don’t get to tell me to give up my job.” “Honey, let’s not fight—” Quinn started, but Honey couldn’t listen anymore. “Goodbye, Quinn,” she said, her voice icy. She hung up the phone, her hands trembling with anger and frustration.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the phone, the weight of the conversation pressing down on her. Tears blurred her vision as she thought about all the sacrifices she had already made, the nights spent alone, and the unending juggling act of her responsibilities.

The silence of the house felt oppressive, and for the first time, she wondered how they would get through this. The gap between them seemed wider than ever, and she wasn’t sure how to bridge it.

★★★★

"The greatest"

Honey stared at her phone as it buzzed on the kitchen counter, Quinn’s name lighting up the screen. She let it ring, her heart heavy with the weight of their last conversation. She couldn’t bring herself to answer, not yet. The anger and hurt were still too fresh, the sting of his words too sharp.

Days passed, and Honey continued to ignore Quinn’s calls, burying herself in her work and the kids’ activities, sending short texts with breakdowns of the kid's days, and a few pictures, but not an ounce of love or forgiveness settling in the words. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever, but she needed time to process, to find a way to articulate her feelings without exploding.

One evening, as she was putting Hayden to bed, she heard the front door open. Quinn was home.

“Mommy, is Daddy back?” Hayden asked, her eyes wide with excitement. Honey forced a smile. “Yes, baby, Daddy’s home," she tucked Hayden in, and kissed her goodnight, "he'll see you in the morning when you wake up okay?” she promised and headed downstairs, her stomach in knots.

Quinn stood in the living room, looking exhausted and worried, his eyes met hers, and she could see the desperation in them. “Honey,” he began, stepping towards her. “please, we need to talk,” his voice trembling, slightly pathetic from the days of worrying about the fate of their marriage and family.

She folded her arms, keeping her distance, “What is there to talk about, Quinn? You made it pretty clear how you feel.” Quinn ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched on his face, “that’s not fair. I didn’t mean it the way it came out."

"I just want to find a way to make things easier for both of us.” Honey shook her head, her anger simmering just about to reach boiling point, “you think the solution is for me to give up my job, my dreams? Do you have any idea how insulting that is? I'm a great wife and a great mother, and you treat me so less than."

"I loved you, and I still do"

“I know, I know,” Quinn said, his voice pleading, “I was wrong. I didn’t think it through. But please, we can’t keep doing this. We need to figure it out together.”

She looked at him, the pain of their disconnect weighing heavily on her, “do you even think I’m attractive anymore, Quinn?” His eyes widened in shock. “What? Of course I do, why would you even ask that?” Honey’s voice wavered, her vulnerability laid bare, “Because you never touch me, you never look at me the way you used to. I feel invisible to you, I feel ugly.” Quinn took a step closer, his expression softening as he reached out to her but she moved away from his grasp, “Honey, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I’ve been so caught up in everything else, I’ve forgotten to show you that. But I do, I really do find you attractive. I love you.”

Tears welled up in Honey’s eyes, the words she had longed to hear both comforting and painful, “then why do I feel so alone? Quinn, we could be in the same room, the same bed even, and yet it feels like you're not even in the room.” “I loved you, Quinn. I still do,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “I just want to feel like you love me back."

"Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you"

Quinn's hand finally found hers, his eyes pleading as she squeezed his hand and collapsed into his chest, “I know, Honey. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything else that I forgot about us. I’m sorry. I need you to know that I love you more than anything.” “I want to believe you, Quinn,” Honey said, tears streaming down her cheeks and she pulled away from his hold and wiped her tears, “but I’m worth so much more. I need time.”

Quinn nodded, his stare not leaving her frame as she met his intensity with hers, "I want to fix this hun." Honey looked away, feeling the weight of his words. She wanted to hold onto the hope that things could get better, but it all felt a little too fresh. “Okay,” she said softly, pulling her hands away, “We’ll see.”

"I've waited and waited"

Honey lay in bed alone after Quinn opted to sleep on the couch, her thoughts fuelled by emotions and the room felt heavy with the weight of their unresolved issues.

As the hours ticked by, Honey felt a sense of longing settles in her chest, a deep ache for the old them that they had lost. She thought about all the times she had waited, waited for Quinn to come home, waited for him to notice her, waited for him to understand the depth of her love.

But tonight, as she lay there in the darkness, she realized that she couldn’t wait any longer.

★★★★

"Man, am I the greatest? God, I hate it. All my love and patience, unappreciated You said your heart was jaded, you couldn't even break it I shouldn't have to say it You could have been the greatest"

The morning after the big blow-up felt comfortable like a weight was lifted from her conscience as she made her way downstairs, the familiar sounds of the house greeted her—the soft hum of the coffee maker, the faint laughter of her children playing in the living room. She smiled at the feeling of familiarity that lay in the simplicity of their little family.

Quinn sat at the kitchen table, sipping his morning coffee, his eyes filled with a mixture of apprehension and hope as he looked up at her. “Honey, I’ve been thinking...” But before he could finish, Honey held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “Quinn, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking too.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Honey could see the glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes as she continued, what looked to be tears lined his eyes and he nodded and ducked his head down.

It's really over, he thought to himself

“I realized that I’ve been waiting for something that may never come,” she said, her voice steady and resolute, “I’ve waited for you to see me, to appreciate me, to love me the way I deserve. But I can’t wait any longer.” Quinn’s expression softened, his gaze searching hers for understanding. “Honey, I dont—”

But Honey interrupted him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I’ve realized that I don’t need to wait for anyone to validate my worth. I am enough, just as I am. And I deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates all that I am.” Quinn’s eyes widened in realization, a regret crossing his face as his hand reached for hers, “I know I’ve taken you for granted, and I’ve made so many mistakes, but I hope you know that I love you, more than anything. I want to make it right.”

Honey's thumb ran over his knuckles, her heart overflowing with love and forgiveness. “I know you do, Quinn, and I love you too, I need to see It though, I need to see you showing up, and I expect you to make an effort for me and for our kids.” Quinn nodded, his eyes shining with determination. “I promise, Honey, I promise to be the partner you deserve.”

Honey smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. “I believe you, Quinn,” her gaze travelled over to where their kids sat on the couch, and her gaze fell back onto him, a shy smile on his face as she settled in the seat next to his, thighs pressed against each other as they feel back into the comfort of one another. He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips as his hands found the sides of her face, he pulled away first, cheeks ablaze as she grinned at his sudden shyness.

Quinn was her greatest love, and they were imperfect and flawed, but infinitely beautiful. Together, they had weathered storms and overcome obstacles, their love stronger and more resilient with each passing day. And as they sat there, surrounded by the laughter and love of their family, Honey knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be—wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to face whatever the future held, together.

-

-

-

Final notes: just re-read it, not as sad as I felt while writing it which is a let down :( but I still like it!!

Also, Warren would not be old enough to qualify for a brick invitational, I realized that after I wrote it, he's like 6ish here and he would need to be 9-10, so plz pretend it's correct for the sake of the fic :)))

[verycharismaticdragon]

Y'know I'm not going to go and argue with people but I'm. kinda weirded out by the "Shen Yuan's family was actually neglectful/awful/abusive" takes? Because we have a story where:

a point is made about cycles of violence and how abuse creates more abuse (with Qiu Jianluo - Shen Jiu - Bing-ge sequence).

a point is made about how the person can turn out very differently depending on their environment growing up (with differences between Bing-ge and Bing-mei).

And like... how does one look at those two points, then at Shen Yuan saying he had a loving family, and forgoes the obvious conclusion - that growing up in a stable home is what sets him apart in the world of PIDW (including from literal author of the world who is a lonely and embittered child of the divorce!) and allows him to change it with the power of love & kindness & bonding with people - in favor of deciding that his family was ~actually~ horrible?..

In that case, what makes him capable of breaking the cycle? Some kind of innate goodness or kindness? That, for some reason, no other character happened to possess? Right. Nice going completely devaluing Shen Jiu's tragedy.

To explain the last point: we get a lot of backstory for Shen Jiu, and the obvious takeaway from it is that he was not born a scum villain. That he did have a desire to do (and be) good, but it just couldn't flourish - because of a combination of terrible circumstances of his youth, his personal flaws, and the demands of the meta-narrative.

Thing is... two of those problems, he shares with Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan has his own personal flaws aplenty, even if they differ from Shen Jiu's, and a literal manifestation of the meta-narrative haunting him. But, unlike Shen Jiu, he happened to have a good family. That is their fundamental difference.

If one argues that Shen Yuan's family situation actually wasn't good, then what allows him to be so different from Shen Jiu? Isn't that saying that Shen Yuan was just a good person from the start... and Shen Jiu was just a bad person from the start? you know, the exact sentiment that made Shen Jiu give up on himself? And isn't it flattening Shen Jiu's story from a tragedy of a person who was broken out of his desire to do good by his terrible circumstances, into just 'a bad guy doing bad things because he's bad'? like, exactly what Airplane did to him in PIDW...

---

But, some of you may ask, don't we have evidence that Shen Yuan wasn't actually very happy in his past life?

Thing is, I don't disagree with that! I just think it didn't necessarily have anything to do with the quality of his home life.

For starters, having a loving family is not everything. Like, even if you just look at Maslow's pyramid, "love and belonging" is actually in the middle of the thing. Shen Yuan could have a perfectly fine, caring family and still be unfulfilled on "esteem" (recognition and respect from other ppl + personal feelings of accomplishment) and "self-actualization" (becoming the best possible version of himself) levels.

And that's before we factor in that he's a(n obviously if you read between the lines) queer dude who grew up in a country that criminalizes queerness which is something I don't see brought up a lot in discussions of the strength of his internalized homophobia, and the possibility that he is an undiagnosed neurodivergent person (i personally hc him as having adhd-I, i know there are also ppl with autistic headcanons, could be both, etc etc), and the influence of his social circle outside his family (cishet dudes on the forums, from what he know, so not the most positive and uplifting bunch)...

---

Lastly, while I think the thematic evidence from the first half of this meta is more telling, there are also a few small in-text details that prove Shen Yuan's words about how close-knit his family was.

First, the way he compares Yue Qingyuan to his older brothers in the very beginning, at the time he is still finding his footing and YQY is the one person looking out for him. (On the subject of SY!SQQ and YQY, just read this post, I won't be able to put it better.) Shen Yuan is explicitly "feeling at home in the atmosphere of brotherly love".

Second, the fact that we know he read his younger sister's danmei novels. On Shen Yuan's side, literally how committed he had to be to supporting his sister's interests, when we know from being in his head how determined he is about playing ostrich with anything and everything gay. No shit he spoiled her, I believe that one hundred percent. And on his sister's side, the level of trust she has towards her brother? Having full confidence that she could make him read gay bdsm and he wouldnt love her any less?..

---

So yeah, I think all signs point to Shen family being as close-knit and loving as Shen Yuan says.

[orkbutch]

ok ok, i know this isnt a wicked blog but its time for me to say my thoughts on the Wicked movie trailer.

I'm not stoked. I'm not much of a musical version lover already, but two things really rubbed me wrong, and I believe they apply to the musical as much as the book in their importance within the Themes.

Elphaba being played by Erivo and being black is cool. Erivo is a great singer, and her hair looks sick, and Elphie's hair is important. However, that casting choice being combined with a white Fiyero (who is Not White in the book, and very much experiences colonialist racism) and with no prosthetic effort to make Elphaba Not Beautiful (which is a Significant Element of Her Experience And Character), spoils any truly transgressive or progressive bite to that casting decision.

The only of the core mains thats not white is the character that is green. Interesting. The character who is extremely belittled for her appearance because she has a deformity, and because she's unattractive by conventional standards (esp because of her hawkish nose and strong chin), is a beautiful woman. Interesting!

Something about this just rubs me wrong. I think the musical has always made me skeptical in this area because its core adaption decisions were always bent toward stripping Wicked of much of its commentary on racism. In the book Fiyero is Vinkan, clearly coded Native American, and Winkie is a slur. They made the slur the name for the Vinkans in the musical. If I recall correctly, Quadlings aren't even mentioned in the musical. But Fiyero in the musical... I don't even know Why they keep him being a foriegn prince because he isnt written like hes foriegn from Gillikin at all. His ethnicity seems totally flattened, a slur that indicates no cultural or experiencial distinction from Gillikin.

I think that may have happened because Animals were already considered an allegory for racism, and they wanted to make that allegory cleaner and easier to condense into a musical plot. Thats my theory. However, that is a misreading. The Animals are not a perfectly singular allegory, and I think you could argue several inspirations, but the most apt interpretation for sure is that the Animals are an allegory for people with disabilities and neurodivergence, as Elphaba's experience is.

The Animals are not merely culturally different or isolated. They are not falsely believed to be different from the Gillikins or the Munchkinlanders or Vinkans. They ARE different, not because they aren't people but because their basic needs are different, and are not adapted to by society. They have hooves, and different skeletons, and different senses, and different mouths that can't necessarily make the kind of speech humans use.

This is important because Elphaba uniquely relates to the Animals, and its because Elphaba has a deformity and is super autistic. This is the other thing that always rubbed me wrong about the musical: it always implied that the only thing that made Elphaba "ugly" to people was her green skin. Thats... weak shit!!! In the book, Elphaba is Not beautiful. She is hatchet faced. She is tall and androgynous and looks weird. And this is IMPORTANT, because it makes Elphaba a genuinely transgressive character!! Her experience is layered! She is green but also breaks gender rules, is awkward, is self hating, is rude, ect. ect. It strengthens her empathy she feels toward Animals, because she feels so othered from society that she feels non-human, alienated.

The book also handles Elphaba's attractiveness much better; it does a great job of depicting someone who is not beautiful but is nevertheless Hot, which Elphaba is. When Glinda looks at her for the first time and thinks that shes beautiful, she is not looking past Elphaba's skin and she does no make over. She puts Elphaba in an orange hat as a joke, and sees how it matches her skin and suits her, and it makes Glinda realise that the green of Elphaba's skin can be beautiful to her. And that changes how Glinda sees Elphaba; Elphaba does not change.

okay im just complaining about the musical now. But idk, I wish that they'd used this opportunity to do better by Fiyero, make the themes a bit better... and just... put some light prosthetics on Erivo. Just make her look a little uglier! A little more hatchety. Its not like it'd be out of place, Ariana Grande as Glinda looks spooky as fuck. Why does she look like that. I like it bc I like Glinda looking intense and spooky but it IS weird

[atinystraynstay]

I'd Wait For You - Joshua Hong

Synopsis: Joshua was your best friend, the person who has witnessed you grow and blossom. That includes being front row to watching you fall in and out of love with people. Joshua was convinced he could treat you better. Could you find yourself to let him in?

Pairing: non-idol! Joshua Hong x fem reader

Genre: Angst, childhood friends to lovers, fluff here and there!

Word Count: 2.3k

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When Joshua thought of the person he was, it was because of you. You were the one who helped him pick out clothes so he found his style, you were the one who boosted his confidence he he doubted himself and pushed him to try new things, and you were the one who helped him made bad decisions sometimes in the hopes of making long-lasting memories. You were his person.

It was written by the universe that the two of you would be best friends. With your mothers being so close, there is no denying that you two will always have an important place in each other's lives.

Ever since you were younger, you two didn't go somewhere without the other. You attended the same schools, even the same college. Sure, college led you two to different friend groups, different activities, and different majors. But you always made time for each other even when life got busy. You two would study constantly and promised to have one meal together once a week. And you two never broke that promise.

Anyone who witnessed your friendship always commented there was something more. Joshua saw it too. He easily fell for you. How couldn't he? You accepted every version of himself and were the person who brought him an immense source of comfort. He couldn't imagine life without you.

Unfortunately, he had to imagine what it would be like to be with you.

"Do you think he's worth it?" You sighed.

The two of you were on FaceTime. It was a Tuesday night. While Joshua was at home, waiting for his food delivery, you were busy getting ready for a date.

Part of the reason why Joshua had to imagine what life would be like if you two were together is because you were seeing someone. For the past few months, you've been dating this guy named Ben. Now, Joshua didn't think much of Ben at first. He didn't seem like your type, so he thought he would come and go.

And he has to some extent. Ben and you had this awful habit of breaking up and getting back together. While it pained Joshua to see you with someone else, he loved the moments you confided him about your dating woes. He took mental notes of dos and donts for when you two (hopefully) get together. Ben was striking out left and right, mainly due to his poor communication. What Joshua didn't understand was why you always found yourself going back to him.

"Y/n, I don't know. You guys break up so much, I've lost count," he laughed. "It's only been 3 times," you groaned. "3 times what? This week?" "But he said he's changed this time. I mean, he even sent flowers to my apartment after our argument two nights again. That's got to mean something, right?" Joshua wanted to roll his eyes so much at your rationale. He adored you with every fiber in his being, and he didn't want to come across as dismissive, but he felt frustrated both because of you and for you. Ben was not worth it in his eyes. Nobody is worth it for you except for him. But he was your best friend. That was his role. "Maybe, angel. But there's only so much flowers can do to make up for how he treats you sometimes." Your smile had flattened by Joshua's words. And it pained him. He never wanted to be a source of sadness in your life. I guess that's why Joshua often pushed his feelings for you aside. He didn't want to be selfish and confess because that might cause a bigger mess. He loved you. He has since he was 8 years old. If you only saw him as a best friend, he would proudly take that role.

In a perfect world, you would confess to Joshua your feelings. He was ready to embrace those feelings head-on because he knew how he felt about you. What kept him back was not knowing how you felt towards him. You've always been so prominent in each other's lives. He didn't want to imagine a world without you. He was terrified that if he did ever confess, it would only push you away.

Joshua had found himself as the leading man in a tragic love story. "Just promise me something?" He requested. "Whatever you decide, follow your heart."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had to hang up the phone call in order to get ready for your date. Joshua sighed once you face vanished from his phone. He set the phone on the coffee table before driving his fingers through his hair.

How could this happen? You were supposed to be with him, not with some random guy you met who knows where? Not with someone who doesn't see your value.

The whole situation frustrated him beyond belief. On paper, you guys were a perfect match. You two knew each other like the back of your hand. Even when you did have a disagreement, you guys would not allow it to blow up. You spoke to each other with respect, even if you were both angry because you cared about each other. In some ways, you could say you loved each other. Joshua definitely was in love with you.

He has received relentless teasing from his friends about his lack of making a move on you. His friends thought even pushing might cause him to crack. And it almost did. Yet, he was still afraid of losing you and now he might actually be.

You always saw him as a friend, or at least that's what Joshua believed. You two were best friends, nothing more and nothing less. This wasn't some love story where the childhood best friends fall for each other, no matter how many times he prayed it would happen. This was his reality. If he had to let you go to keep you in his life, he would. And he would be there to pick up the pieces each time.

Suddenly, a buzz brought Joshua out of his mind and back to the present moment. He sat up a little straighter, looking towards the door of his apartment. Did he hear that correctly? He glanced towards the clock on the wall. 8:16pm.

Ding dong. Who could that be?

Joshua pushed himself off of the couch before shuffling towards the door. It was just a short walk towards the front of the apartment. He slowly unlocked the top lock and twisted the doorknob to unlock his front door.

There you were.

"Y/n?! What happened?" "Why didn't you fight for me?"

Your voice was calm, yet your body language screamed rage. You had your hair pulled back in a clip, exposing your bare face to the world. You looked divine, but Joshua didn't have time to compliment you. He noticed how your eyebrows were slightly scrunched up while you stared into him. He thought your gaze was going to burn a hole right through them. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie and sweatpants.

"Answer me, Joshua."

Oh no, I'm in deep shit. He was at a loss for words as he stared at you. His mind racking through all the interactions you had. Did he say something over FaceTime? Did he forget to say something? Did you ask him to do something but he forgot? He was drawing a blank.

"Do you like me yes or no, Joshua? Because everyone is saying you do besides you."

His eyes grew wide at that statement. Who spilled? "Y/n, listen-" "No, Joshua, you listen. How dare you let me go on dates with people who treat me poorly. You're my best friend! We're supposed to tell each other everything." That part you whispered. "How could you not tell me?"

"What a damn minute," Joshua finally said. He had a raised eyebrow before opening the door all the way. He stepped aside to let you in, motioning for you to follow him. "I am not going to argue with you outside of my apartment. Get in." You sighed and nodded, slowly stepping in. Obviously something happened in between from the moment you guys to now. Who did you speak to? Who told you his secret? Why were you angry?

Once you were fully into his apartment, Joshua closed the door. You immediately found a spot on his couch, right beside where he was previously sitting. Your hands were locked in front of you, your one leg bouncing. Your breathing was starting to slow down a bit but you gaze was still locked on him. While not as intense, you still had your eyes trained on him.

"Can I get you a water or something before we continue this conversation?" He asked gently.

"There you go again!" You groaned. Your head leaned until it hit the pillow behind you. Your gaze is now trained on the ceiling above you two. He was surprised, completely speechless as he thought he was doing the right thing. "I'm so sick of you being nice to me."

Joshua raised an eyebrow before shuffling over to you. He took a seat on the couch beside you but kept enough distance. He wasn't sure how to process all that was transpiring, but he needed to understand where you were coming from. And apparently have some explaining to you.

"Y/n, sweet girl, you need to tell me what's going on." "You is what is going on," you confessed.

Slowly, you sat up until you were at eye level with him once again. The room was tense. He was nervous, afraid that what you had been told was going to bring his worst fear to reality - that he might lose you. "Joshua, you've set too high of a standard for me. You're kind without asking for anything in return. You treat me like a fucking princess when I'm only your best friend. I'm angry that we aren't together but you treat me better than any guy I've been with."

Was this actually happening? Were you confessing to him? "Y/n, do you like me?" 'I have liked you since I knew what it meant to have a crush on someone," you admitted. "But."

Not the cursed 'but.' "We're best friends. I didn't eat to be presumptuous and think you like me when we've been friends for so long. But then Seungkwan told me that you had feelings for me yesterday. I didn't think it was true especially not when you pushed me to go out with someone else tonight."

Fuck. "Y/n, look, we are best friends," Joshua began. You looked at him as if you just stabbed him in the heart. "But, I fell in love with my best friend."

Very gently, he took both of your hands in his. You stared up at him with a facial expression he couldn't recognize. This was new for both of you. You were venturing into uncharted territory for the two of you. His thumbs caressed over your knuckles which both soothed your nerves but caused your heart to pound faster. "This was not the way I planned on telling you," he confessed. "I actually wanted to tell you once you were single again because I didn't want to stand in the way of being happy." This time, you reached out to him. Keeping one hand in his, your other hand reached over to run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back to expose his face more. You seemed to relax under your touch which made you smile for the first time that evening. "Josh, I'm my happiest when I'm with you. Have I not made that clear in all the years we've known each other?" "Y/n, you know I have too much respect for you and too much invested in this friendship to just assume someone like you could ever be into me." You squeezed his hand gently, unable to stifle the giggle leaving your lips. You moved closer to him, our lips almost right under his. "This is so silly. What are we doing? Why are we keeping ourselves from being our happiest versions of ourselves?" He smirked at your question. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek gently. His thumb caressed over your cheek affectionately as he gazed into your eyes. He always has been mesmerized by the fact that your eyes captured any light in the room. They sparkled like two disco balls. "Let's change that," he murmured.

Time stopped. He leaned in so his lips grazed against yours as if he was testing the waters. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what was about to happen, as there was no turning back. When you didn't pull away, he got the green light he's been chasing after. His lips fully pressed against yours.

Your head gently tilted up, leaning to the side so your lips fit against him like two missing puzzle pieces. It felt like tiny sparks were going off against your lips. It was a feeling the two of you would soon be addicted to. And it felt so comfortable, so natural. His lips slowly chased after yours for a moment.

Even though he felt the urge to continue kissing you, to never let this moment pass, he did pull back. His forehead found yours, revealing the wide grin the two of you wore. He couldn't help but chuckle before pecking your lips once more. Joshua was just over the moon. He was eager for whatever may be next for the two of you, especially now that there were no limitations. You were his best friend, but now the girl who knew how he felt.

"I kept my promise you know," you spoke softly.

Joshua raised an eyebrow but kept a warm smile. Now what were you talking about? "You had me promise to follow my heart. And I did. You've been my heart, my love all this time."

[golvio]

Tried the Damsel route today.

This shot and the sequence leading up to it is probably one of the most disturbing things in the whole game. It's to existential horror what the Prisoner sawing her own head off was to physical horror. If anything, the Prisoner's autodecapatation is now less horrifying, in retrospect, because at least she got to keep her personality and free will throughout the process.

But, also...even in the routes where we don't mean to hurt her, where we do everything in our power to avoid physically hurting her...we still hurt her.

Even if we came in here with the very best of intentions and tried to "do the right thing," we still hurt her by our thoughts and desires hollowing her out until she was reduced to...this.

Going through the "happy" version of the ending didn't feel so triumphant, after that. Not just because the ending wasn't quite as satisfying from a narrative standpoint without any sort of conflict to struggle against, but because the whole time it felt like she was following a script. Apart from the vague impulse to leave that all Princesses possessed, she'd been hollowed out of everything that had made her...well, her, before Chapter II. She didn't panic when the door shut, she didn't stop smiling when we suggested she might end the world or have to cut off her arm a second time. The only thing we noticed about her in Chapter I was her lack of response to pain and her sweet smiles, and our fantasies hollowed her out until she became nothing but that.

Can we say she was "happy" if she lacked the capacity to be anything but "happy" with our choices for her? Can you call that love? Or is it something that's even lonelier than outright being alone?

Honestly, it was a relief when the Shifting Mound took her. Seeing her made so shallow felt incredibly cruel, given who she was before she was flattened, and what she would've been capable of if we had done literally anything else. At that point, "You molded her to love you" and "She has served her purpose" felt like both an observation and an accusation.

But, given that my time with the Damsel was paired with Shifty's third vessel dialogue...it got me thinking about what She wants.

She says She doesn't want anything, that She's governed by the whims of whatever force is shaping Her at the moment, but...is She really happy, having who She is be subject to the whims of who's perceiving Her? Is She okay with not being able to hold a shape She's discovered she likes as soon as someone else perceives Her to be something different? Would She ever want to take a break from...all that? After all, She's drawn to us. The Long Quiet. The god of eternity and order. On a certain level, She craves stability.

Is her "gift" to us what She's secretly wanted all along? The power to choose Her own fate, Her own identity, and the power to change it if She doesn't like the path She's on? And what does that say about our gifts? Do we yearn for the completion we offer her through the vessels, given that we keep shattering to pieces every time we go back into the breach and start the loop again? Is this some kind of wacky flipped-upside-down Gift of the Magi situation where each of us gives the other what they yearn for but lack due to our being permanently separated into two beings against our will?

[sokkastyles]

I've heard that Azula was meant to be male originally. I wonder how different the writing would be for the character and how different the fans would react to it. I am glad that they made Azula female tho.

I remember hearing that male Azula was also supposed to be the older sibling, which does change the story quite a bit. It makes Ozai's favoritism into a simple issue of succession. Male!Azula would be naturally favored because he would be the crown prince. Zuko would be raised to be subservient to his younger brother and that would be considered normal. Even Zuko being sent on a quest to find the Avatar becomes much more reasonable from that perspective as a practicality. Historically, second sons often went on those kinds of quests because it gave them something to do that wasn't "usurp my older brother for the throne."

Ozai would be even more aware that this was a issue, since he himself usurped his older brother. Actually, now that I think of it, it's really rather odd that Iroh, as crown prince, was the one out campaigning while Ozai stayed home, and that gave him an opportunity to stage a coup against his brother. A politically savvy Azulon would have sent Ozai out to man the siege of Ba Sing Se while Iroh was at home preparing to inherit the throne.

As for how fans would receive Zuko's older brother? I know a lot of people might argue that male characters are more easily forgiven than their female counterparts, and I have no doubt that a male version of Azula would have people ready to excuse his every move (see the inexplicable fandom that has sprung up around the likes of Billy Hargrove), but I also think the ways in which he would be excused would be vastly different.

Because with Azula there's a lot of "oh, she didn't really mean it," especially when it comes to the way she treats her brother. This idea that she actually really loves him, she just doesn't know how to show it, or twisting the things she does and says to him in canon so that they're actually proof of her love. I've been thinking about this a lot in terms of people saying they want to see Azula be "humanized," and what they usually mean is that they want to see her given redeeming qualities. Which to me reeks of a misogynistic double standard because most male characters aren't required to show kindness or be really loving deep down to be recognized as human. Being cruel and arrogant and sadistic are also human traits, and women are just as capable of these things as men.

I also think that because Azula is female and Zuko is male, there's a certain perception that she can't hurt him that much, either physically or emotionally. And the first one can be dismissed because the show takes place in a world where bending eliminates most differences related to physical strength. The second one is just wrong and relies on misogynistic beliefs about boys being less emotionally vulnerable than girls.

I do think that the Ursa blame would still be present if Azula were male, and possibly worse, because there would be that Freudian current about how Ursa damaged her son by not being the perfect madonna figure.

If Male!Azula were still the younger sibling, I think it would flatten the character in a way because it makes his cruelty and resentment of Zuko about envy for the throne. One of the most interesting things about Azula is that the fact that she is younger and girl makes her cruelty towards her older brother less expected, and more personal. And it takes something away from the character to try and excuse it away or soften it.

[imogens-temult]

hello! just wondering if you know of a tutorial for the lines going through gifs? and getting them all to match up? like in these sets /post/714978685858496512 and /post/733101286452559872 also are they overlays or how did you make them? thank you in advance!

hey! so, i've attempted to show you with a little tutorial on how i made lines like the ones here and here, i've not seen one around myself and decided to try this out one day and it didn't go too badly so, i hope this makes sense and helps. so, i'll be explaining and showing you how i did the lines on these gifs:

now, firstly i'm going to assume you know the basics and can create/colour etc a gif, you'll need your base gif ready to go. in this example i've flattened them to frames, but you can do this in timeline as well.

step one: add a new layer on top of the gif/smart object, and set up your brush ready. i personally have used 2px brush, 100px hardness, 100px smoothing and 75% flow;

the flow is the main thing i think that is more down to personal preference, it affects how the line draws/moves and will be down to a little bit of trial and error - i've added below how the lines look at difference levels of flow (no other setting from the above has changed just the flow)

step two: decide where you want your lines to link, i've always done from the centre of the gif but you could want your lines to meet up 100px from the left at the top and exit the gif 100px from the right at the bottom. no matter what, the best thing to do here is to add guides to your gifs. as i'm just going straight from the centre to the centre for every gif i add a guideline at 270px

step three: i recommend testing this all out on a separate canvas first to play around and see how you want your line to look etc, but when you're ready you're good to go. start from when the guideline is and draw your line until where you want it to end, the best way to show you this is on video so i've screen recorded the whole process.

it's honestly pretty straight forward, so i hope this all makes sense, and just have fun with it, i love messing around and drawing 30 versions of the same line until i'm happy with it!!

ALSO, in case you were wondering about the final gif in the wheel of time set, the moving line, that was simply an overlay from this video that i set to screen so the black background disappeared leaving just the line (i stretched/rotated/moved it around get it to start and end where i wanted it to! i just played around with the line thickness when drawing my lines to match as best i could with the line in the overlay!

[tumbleweed-run]

Kinktober 2024 Day 1: Gender Swap

Gender Swapped Gale Bloodweave

“In here, now, wizard,” Astarion growled as he grabbed Gale by the wrist and tugged him into an unoccupied room. 

Gale yelped as he was forced sideways into the room, tumbling awkwardly to a stop. The awkwardness made Astarion smile, a wicked thing but a smile nonetheless. It reminded him how less than six hours ago Gale had looked entirely different.

For reasons Astarion didn’t care to fully understand their current scheme had required the wizard to effect a disguise. Normally, Astarion would have been their go to for that but they needed Gale’s knowledge of the place - and, of course, for their wizard to not be recognized. And somehow that lead to the vision that was now awkwardly standing before him. 

As it turned out, Gale made for a very pretty woman. 

Gale’s hair was not much longer than it had been on his male body, the same color too, but this time it was knotted into a bun. Loose tendrils fell to frame his now softer and hairless face. 

“Astarion, I would really like to return to my previous state,” Gale whined annoyedly. This voice was also new and Astarion was far more interested in listening to its tone than its words. It was distinctly feminine despite still being low and husky. It was almost, almost, not irritating. 

Astarion realized with much interest that Gale’s lips had been painted. It was done with far too much skill to have been done by the wizard himself, so he imagined Shadowheart had taken pity and done his makeup. 

“Later,” Astarion said absentmindedly as he finally let go of the wizard’s wrist and took a step back- openly staring. 

Gale’s skin flushed. His cheeks, his neck, and most enticingly the small portion of his chest that was exposed for Astarion to see. Gale was, unfortunately, still wearing a wizard's robe keeping much of his body hidden. But what could not be concealed entirely were Gale’s very ample and lovely breasts. 

Astarion’s hands were already working on opening the slim leather belt that Gale wore today before he realized it. 

“Will you stop,” Gale snapped indignantly, he attempted to shove Astarion’s hands away.

Astarion grinned once more and, with a little flourish, tossed the now-opened belt behind him. Gale looked like he was about ready to argue again but Astarion quickly slid into his space, forcing the wizard back against the wall. Much to his amusement, this female version of Gale was several inches shorter than Astarion, and the top of Gale’s head barely reached the vampire’s lips. In order for the wizard to glare at him he was forced to look up in their now crowded position. 

Astarion watched as the change in their heights registered in Gale’s eyes. 

“Now,” Astarion drawled after allowing that realization to sit for a moment, “I would very much like to see what you look like under this robe.” His hand slowly worked at a fastening on the wizard’s robe.

Gale swallowed, eyes that hadn’t changed much searched Astarion’s face for a second before he nodded. “Alright,” he said rather breathlessly. 

Astarion barely let him finish the word before he’d managed to open the robe entirely. Gale was quiet but compliant and shrugged the robe off. In just trousers and a shirt Astarion realized two thing. The first being that these were absolutely not Gale’s clothes and were likely borrowed. The second being that they’d been unable to collect the correct garments and Astarion could just barely make out the dusky tips of Gale’s nipples through the cream-colored linen. 

Unable to help himself Astarion brushed the back of his knuckle against one of Gale’s nipples. Gale yelped in surprise and attempted to throw himself backward but only managed to flatten further against the wall. 

Astarion couldn’t help the predatory grin that spread across his face. 

Gale swallowed. 

It was short work to pull the shirt from Gale’s trousers. And even shorter to snake a hand beneath it, fingers deftly finding a nipple with a pinch. Once more, Gale yelped, only this time his back bowed pressing his breast into Astarion’s hand. 

“Does it feel different I wonder?” Astarion asked conversationally as he began softly kneading at the warm globe of flesh. The wizard never objected to having his nipples played with but this response was certainly new. 

“Yes,” Gale was forced to swallow several times before he managed even to say that singular word.

Astarion grinned again as he dropped his hand to the waistband of Gale’s trousers. “I wonder what else feels different,” he hummed, fingers already plucking laces open. 

Gale grabbed at Astarion’s wrist and the vampire froze, one of the laces still held between his fingers. 

“Astarion, I’m not sure this is the most prudent idea,” Gale insisted.

“You’ve given our friends what they needed, did you not?”

Gale nodded. 

“Then why not allow ourselves some fun?” Astarion asked. “The job is done, and besides,” he allowed a pout to color his words, “don’t you want to know what if feels like when I fuck your pretty pussy?”

The flush that covered Gale’s skin did, in fact, reach his breasts. His pupils were blown wide at the idea, but still Astarion refused to move again.

“Say the word, wizard,” he reminded. 

Gale’s mouth worked for a moment without words before, “yes, alright, yes,” spilled from his lips. 

Astarion immediately forewent finishing the opening of Gale’s trousers and instead leaned down and lifted the wizard up over his shoulder. He laughed at Gale’s indignant shriek and turned, making his way towards the bed in the room. He was fully capable of carrying Gale like this regularly but the move only seemed to punctuate the changes that magic had brought to the wizard’s body. 

With just as much ease Astarion tossed Gale onto the bed, earning him yet another indignant noise. Ignoring him, Astarion set to work pulling his boots off. Idly he recognized these as belonging to Shadowheart, but the thought was was tossed out just as he did the boots. 

“You don’t have to manhandle me,” Gale protested just as Astarion grabbed for the waistband of his trousers again and began pulling them down.

“Why not?” Astarion challenged, “you’re certainly enjoying it.”

Gale didn’t even bother refuting his statement; he merely looked away from Astarion as he pulled his legs to make stripping him even easier. 

“The shirt, wizard,” Astarion demanded as he tossed the trousers in roughly the same direction as the boots. 

As Gale awkwardly wiggled the shirt off of his body Astarion found himself distracted. Objectively he’d known, had smelt, that Gale’s transformation had been total but seeing was a whole other thing. Astarion had become… fond, of Gale’s cock in the last few weeks. It was gone. Instead, a very similar dark and curly thatch of hair beckoned him to press the wizard’s legs wide. 

And he did. 

Gale was nearly panting as he watched Astarion look his fill, newly uncovered breast rising and falling rapidly. 

Astarion allowed his hands to skate up the insides of Gale’s legs. Barely touching and causing the wizard to wiggle and spread them even wider. He was wet, moisture greeting Astarion’s fingers before they were anywhere near the core of his body. When he swiped a finger just barely between the folds of this new cunt Gale let out a noise - something between a yelp and a moan. 

Without the intention of being seductive, purely for his own curiosity, Astarion lifted his fingers to his mouth and lapped. This time the noise ripped out of Gale was absolutely a moan which brought back Astarion to his previous mission. Another press of his fingers between Gale’s legs, another moan from the wizard, and Astarion held out his glistening fingers towards him. 

“Do you want to taste yourself,” he asked, his own voice husky.

There was a momentary flash of embarrassment on Gale’s face, but it was gone as quickly as Astarion had recognized it. It was replaced almost immediately by interest. 

“Yes,” Gale agreed with a sharp nod of his head. The unceremonious way Astarion had deposited him on the bed along with the less than tactful removal of his shirt had caused the knot of hair to come loose. 

Astarion kneeled onto the bed, bringing his fingers closer to Gale. The wizard leaned up and tentatively darted his tongue out to probe at the vampire’s fingers. He seemed to roll the taste around his tongue for just a moment before sucking Astarion’s fingers into his mouth. With skill that had previously caused Astarion to wonder exactly what that wizard had been doing with his mouth in the past, Gale cleaned the taste of himself from Astarion’s skin. 

Astarion felt his cock throb against his trousers, reminding him of the blatant neglect he was suffering. He badly wanted to fuck Gale but knew being unkind now would certainly not earn him any repeats of this particular bit of magic. So instead he squeezed himself with his free hand, drawing Gale’s eye and causing him to stop lapping at Astarion’s fingers. 

“Don’t worry, wizard, I promise to cum inside of you,” Astarion said, tapping his newly released fingers against Gale’s lips.  He allowed himself a few more lazy strokes through his clothing.

The muscles of Gale’s stomach tightened for a moment, clearly affected by his words.  Astarion laughed and trailed his fingers down over Gale’s chin, over the rapid pulse beating against his neck, and down once more to his breasts. He pinched at one nipple and then the other, causing Gale to whimper and throw his head back against the bed. As tempted as he was to continue playing Astarion force himself to move on, fingers gliding across the plane of the wizard’s stomach. 

Astarion did not hesitate as he pressed a finger inside of Gale. He was so wet that the single digit slid in easily, with the first experimental pump Gale’s eyes slid closed. With the second he whimpered, thighs falling open even wider. 

Astarion’s attention was split between the wizard’s face as he tried to process these new sensations and the sight of Astarion’s slickened finger pressing in and out of him. He was careful not to touch Gale anywhere else, certainly not the tiny bundle of nerves he caught glimpses off as he moved his finger - no matter how tempting. Once Gale’s muscles were all drawn taut and he was whimpering with each breath Astarion carefully pressed a second finger inside of the wizard. 

“Oh gods, Astarion,” Gale cried as he threw an arm over his face. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” Astarion praised, reveling how the muscles of Gale’s cunt tightened around his fingers at his words. 

“I can’t wait to feel you around my cock,” he continued, the thrust of his fingers speeding up.

Gale was writhing uncontrollably as Astarion continued to fuck him with his finger. His hips were rolling with each withdrawal, chasing after the full sensation he was experiencing for the first time. He was also making noise so freely that if their friends hadn’t cleared the area when Astarion had stolen the wizard away into the room they certainly knew what was happening now.

“Astar-” Gale began, words aborted with another thrust of the vampire’s fingers. “Please,” he whimpered finally. 

“Please what?” Astarion asked as he abruptly slowed. Now he drug his fingers out of Gale, scissoring them as wide as he could as he went. 

The muscles in Gale’s thighs flexed violently as he seemed to barely restrain himself from fucking down onto Astarion’s hand. 

“I don’t,” his voice was raspy with use and lust, “I don’t know.”

Astarion, in an uncharacteristically gentle moment, soothed his unbusy hand firmly over the wizard’s thigh. “I know what you want,” he cooed almost kindly. 

With that Astarion allowed his thumb to slide between the folds of Gale’s cunt and press against his clit. A few soft circles in combination with the now softer thrusts was all it took. Gale’s arm flew off his face finally to grip the bed below him, back bowing up almost unnaturally as he came. He was nearly silent, mouth opened wide in a silent yell, as his muscles contracted wildly around Astarion. 

As Gale’s body relaxed and he remembered how to breathe again, Astarion carefully pulled his now soaked hand away. He kept his other hand on the wizard’s thigh, softly keeping pressure. 

“Fuck,” was all Gale managed after yet another minute.

Astarion laughed. “Oh wizard, we’re not done,” he promised. 

Gale looked at him questioningly. 

“I promised to cum inside of you,” Astarion responded, lewdly dragging his wet fingers on Gale’s stomach.

[blue-sadie]

The Slick Back

Shiv x Girlfriend Reader

Series Masterlist

Prt 3 of the Different Versions Series

Summary: waking up in a small apartment in Moscow it reminds you of something and someone

Warning: shower sex

Yn/3rd person pov

My eyes slowly blinked open as I stretched out a groan leaving my throat as I shifted uncomfortably, I slowly sat up my eyes shooting open as my bed creaked loudly underneath me.

I looked down at the bed my eyes softening as I saw the torn and beaten up mattress and the wrecked bed frame, my lips slightly quivered as I remembered when I use to live like this before steven helped.

He helped me so much, helping my life get in gear keeping me grounded as I worked my way up, my heart ached as I thought back to when we first met everything was so special was it my fault everything changed.

A few tears escaped my eyes rolling down my cheeks and I let them it was said to see everything we built fall apart "I miss you guys" I whispered and slightly wiped my tears away before moving to the edge of the bed letting my legs hang off of it.

My slight blurred vision moved over the room, it was small and looked run down, the room only had a small window covered by tattered curtains and a door that looked really busted, I slowly stood up and made my way through to the window to look out of it.

What I looked down upon was a bustling street with loads of people crowding it and only a few cars here and there, my brows frowned slightly as I wondered where I was "maybe it's for the better I don't know" I murmured and stepped back from the window letting the curtain fall back into place.

I wondered into the next room which was slightly bigger then the bedroom it was cramped as the living room and dining room and the kitchen was only separated by a half wall and to my left was a small bathroom.

Each room was covered in a thin layer of dust and there was laundry thrown all over the bathroom, I used to be just like this never having the motivation to clean or to look after myself properly I hummed to myself slightly as I moved to the kitchen cringing slightly.

The small counter space was covered in dirty plates and cups the small of something bad filled my nose "yea I can't live with that" I murmured and huffed as I went to work on cleaning this place up, I started with the dishes to clear the counters and bagged all the trash around the apartment.

After that I went to picking up laundry putting it into a sorted piles before moving onto cleaning the floors and surfaces and lastly sorting out the bed, I was to busy humming to myself to notice the marc look a like admiring me from the door way.

His eyes stared at your ass as you bent over flattening the sheets on the bed, he bit his lip and raised his hand bringing it hard down on your ass, you screamed turning around and out of reflex you punched him causing him to hiss in pain.

"Shit baby doll its me shiv" he yelled putting his arms up in a surrender before quickly moving to his face covering the reddening patch of his face, "oh shit" I squeaked covering my mouth as I looked at him.

His russian accent startled me but the slap is what made me punch him, my eyes looked at him drifting up and down his body, he looked good in a red leather jacket with slicked back hair he looked as he would be in one of those detective movies or apart of the mafia.

"You throw a good punch" he muttered rubbing his cheek gently, I pressed my lips together as I stepped to him raising my hand to his face, he flinched at first before leaning into my touch "I'm sorry" I murmured making him smile slightly and shake his head.

"I should've announced I was here" he said his hands settling on my hips drawing little circles on my hips "I'm glad to see you up and cleaning" he murmured pushing his head into my neck his nose tickling my skin.

He kissed my neck tenderly whispering sweet things to me as he pulled me in closer his hands hugging my waist "I wish I could stay here forever but I really need to shower" he pulled back from me and quickly kissed my forehead but as he was about to turn and leave he stopped.

"How about you join me" he murmured looking back at me his eyes already filled with lust and desire I thought about it for a second before nodding "sure why not" I smiled before squealing out as he quickly picked me up.

He walked us into the bathroom placing me onto the small counter "fuck I really missed you doll" he growled his hands fumbling with his clothes as he rushes to take them off his eyes locked with mine.

I giggled as he almost fell as he kicked off his boxers "oh shush" he laughed as he kissed me, he quickly helped me on to the floor his hands quickly working to pull off my clothes "I miss the way your body feels against mine" he mumbled as he urged me into the shower.

He pressed me against the wall of the small shower it was the only way we could fit in together "I want you so bad" he muttered kissing the skin between my neck and shoulder lovingly I let out small whines and gasps as he pressed his body against mine.

"Get ready" he said, I opened my mouth to ask why but the cold water hitting us made a small scream leave my lips "that's cold" I squeaked my hands moving to grasp his shoulders tightly he laughed at my reaction, my body was tense intil the water turned warm.

"Fuck that was freezing" I muttered breathing out as the water ran over my body, he chuckled again biting his lip "but it wakes up the body doesn't" he murmured leaning down so we were face to face "awakens each part of you".

His hands traced up and down my body as he pressed his lips against mine in a passionate kiss, I let my hands fall down his body to his cock, my hands wrapped around it making his breath hitch against my lips.

"Please doll please" he begged his voice shaking as he spoke I bit my lip as I teasingly ran my finger tips up and down his cock making him whine, "why don't you beg" I murmured which made him pause and look at me and I knew I fucked up.

He raised his eyebrow looking down at me "what was that baby doll" he asked his voice laced with a dominating tone, I blushed darkly looking away "n-nothing" I whispered his breath tickled my neck as he leaned closer to me his hand coming up to cup my face and force me too look at him.

"What did you say" he muttered but I didn't answer, he chuckled darkly and turned me over in a swift motion I gasped as I was pressed against the tiles "next time don't think your in control" he growled a slapped my ass a few times each time a gasp of pain left my lips.

"Aw such a red ass" he chuckled giving it one last smack before squeezing it, "you took it so well doll" he growled as he pressed his cock in between my thighs up against my core "now can you take something else" he teased.

I nodded my head eagerly pressing myself back against him "fuck" he muttered and moved himself to my entrance "shiv" I moaned as he slowly entered me making my hands helplessly hold onto the wall.

His thrusts pushed me further into the wall, his lips attached to the back of my neck leaving love bites along my skin "p-please" I whined as I felt a knot formed in my stomach, my eyes rolled back as I clenched around him making him grunt.

"Fuck I'm close" he groaned as his cock twitched inside me "cum with me cum with me doll" he grunted and I squealed out as I cum and soon after he filled me up with his seed, my knees buckled underneath me and he picked me up just intime.

"Go to sleep doll, I'll take care of everything all you have to do is rest"

[opbackgrounds]

So I finished the live action and have taken a little time to get my thoughts together, and I'm very much of two minds about this show. I don't seem to be quite as high on it as some other people and the parts I didn't like I *really* didn't like, but I think the bones of the show are good and that the problems I had could be improved upon in future seasons.

More detailed thoughts under the cut

I've said all along that the live action will need to carve out its own identity if it wants to survive, that it needed not to copy the source material, but rhyme with it.

I feel like the first four episodes do that best. There was a lot to cover in the East Blue, and the more disconnected, episodic nature of the manga wasn't going to work. The solution was to combine and condense the manga content, and then add a significant B plot with the marines to help tie everything together.

The problem I have is that the addition of the marines takes away too much time from the Straw Hats without adding enough to make it worth it in the end. While backstories and story arcs were rushed to hell for our main crew, everything with Garp slogged, with the final payoff being nonsensical and poorly executed. I get what they were trying to do with Garp, shifting from childish temper tantrums to laughing maniacally, but it just doesn't work. Garp just doesn't work. Which is a shame, because I think that the growth for Koby and Helmeppo had a lot of potential and the actors exceeded my expectations. The material they had to work with just wasn't good enough.

Syrup Villiage worked best for me, because of all the arcs in the manga it was the most dragged out and poorly executed. It benefits from being condensed and leaning into the horror vibe over the generic shonen battle of the original was inspired. Plus, it validated my head canon of Kuro poisoning Kaya, which is always a nice feeling.

But even here, there's a knock-on effect of what came before it. Because Shells Town and Orange Town were cut down so drastically, Zoro's backstory and some of Nami's development were kicked on down the line, making Usopp more of a bystander in the arc where he should have shined the brightest. Later on the Baratie, Sanji's inner turmoil and struggle to follow his dream is reduced down to a "hey, the chore boy offered me a job, I'm gonna bounce".

And for what? So we can spend a painfully long scene of Garp eating a fucking steak?

The show needed its original ten episodes of runtime to let the characters just breathe. The chemistry amongst the crew is great, there are cinematic moments that took my breath away, the soundtrack is fire, the fights were enjoyable, and the set design is fantastic, but the depth of the manga is flattened. In the East Blue, every villain--even the shitty ones--acted as double foils. For example, Captain Morgan's narcissism contrasted with Zoro's willingness to throw away his good name in order to follow his dream, where his more villainous nature foiled Koby's heroism. In the show, Morgan barely counts as a villain, with his more disturbing and evocative acts such as telling his subordinates to shoot themselves (and more chillingly, them willing to do it) are cut out entirely, and it makes Garp's decision to later tie him up to the same post as Zoro seem almost insane.

Of all the arcs, Arlong Park left the worst taste in my mouth, which is so frustrating when it's supposed to be the crown jewel of the season. The changes they made to Nojiko are baffling and the one time I honestly don't understand why a change was made. Nami's backstory, the most powerful in the East Blue, was chopped into pieces and condensed so much that I felt nothing when Bellemere died. Luffy's decision to actually listen to Nami's backstory, while it made sense for this version of the character, went so against the spirit of the original that it took me out of the moment, as well as removing one of the aspects that makes Luffy such a unique character in the first place.

And for what, so the season had time to end with Luffy fighting Garp in a hopeless fight, only for Garp to let him go because "it was all a test"? Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. The whole point of the East Blue is to establish the Straw Hat Pirates. They shouldn't be playing second fiddle to anyone, let alone this deranged, poorly written version of Garp.

I said that the bones of the show are good, and I stand by that. The Straw Hats are the Straw Hats. The One Piece world is the One Piece world. I do remain hopeful for improvements should there be a season two, because the marine B plot with Smoker is already in the manga, and the overarching story of Alabasta gives the writers the ability to be more flexible with the limited time that they have. I have to believe that it's easier doing one big story over the course of a season than it is trying to shove 5 origin stories into 8 episodes, but I'm not a TV person so I might be wrong.

However, my concern is that in some ways season one benefited from the pandemic. The series was in pre-production for like 7 years, and all the interviews I've read have credited the extra time the series had in the developmental oven for my favorite aspects of the show--particularly the sets. That's not going to necessarily the case going forward, and my worry is if future seasons aren't given the time to get it right that it's all going to fall apart. At the same time they can't wait too long, because that's not how live action works.

The live action isn't a bad show, but it isn't a good show, either. I'm glad that it exists, even if it's only to point back to the original. I wouldn't be devistated if it were cancelled, but would certainly check out season two should it get renewed.

Just, please. No more Garp. I'm begging Matt Owens and Oda himself, please. Just let the man do cool stuff off screen for a couple seasons, and when he's reintroduced pretend all this never happened. Your show will be better for it, I promise.

[justicegundam82]

3.5 to PF1e Conversion: Waterveiled Assassin

Welcome back! This is a conversion I've honestly been eager to do someday.

Back in the good old 3.5 days, there was this evil god, Tharizdun, who was basically like a previous version of Rovagug, in that it just wanted to wreck everything and had suckered the four evil Archomentals (Ogremoch, Yan-C-Bin, Imix and Olhydra) into working for his agenda. Each evil Archomental had some favored avatars for carrying out their will, which were appropriately called Avatars of Elemental Evil.

Since I liked those creatures well enough, and I thought they can easily be incorporated in the Golarion setting with only a few changes... I'd like to try my hand at converting them, starting with the Waterveiled Assassin. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think and where I can improve!

WATERVEILED ASSASSIN

Image (c) Wizards of the Coast, from Monster Manual IV, author Daarken

Before you stands a monstrous, vaguely serpentine shape made of water, with hateful eyes and a mouth turned into a wicked sneer barely visible in what passes for its face.

WATERVEILED ASSASSIN       CR 15

XP 51’200

NE Large Outsider (elemental, evil, extraplanar, water)

Init +12; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +22

DEFENSE

AC 28, touch 17, flat-footed 20 (+8 Dex, +11 natural, -1 size)

hp 225 (18d10+126); fast healing 5

Fort +18, Ref +19, Will +12

Damage Reduction 10 / -; Immune elemental traits

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft., swim 60 ft.

Melee 2 slams +25 (4d8+8 plus grab)

Space 10 ft.; Reach 20 ft.

Special Attacks churn, drench, engulf (DC 27, 4d8+12), grab, water mastery

STATISTICS

Str 26, Dex 27, Con 24, Int 10, Wis 19, Cha 15

Base Atk +18; CMB +27 (+31 grab); CMD 45

Feats Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Engulf Revulsion, Great Cleave, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Lunge, Power Attack, Skill Focus (Stealth), Vital Strike

Skills Acrobatics +22, Bluff +16, Intimidate +16, Knowledge (planes) +16, Perception +22, Sense Motive +20, Stealth +32, Swim +36

Languages Aquan

Special Qualities liquid body, malleable form, one with water

ECOLOGY

Environment any (Elemental Plane of Water)

Organization solitary

Treasure standard

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Churn (Ex): As a swift action, a waterveiled assassin can batter opponents it has engulfed with mighty currents that it creates by controlling its own shape. All creatures currently engulfed within the waterveiled assassin’s body take 4d8+12 points of bludgeoning damage as the currents try to tear their bodies apart. A successful Fortitude saving throw (DC 27) halves the damage taken. The save DC is Strength-based.

Drench (Ex): The waterveiled assassin's touch puts out nonmagical flames of Large size or smaller. The creature can dispel magical fire it touches as dispel magic (caster level 15th).

Liquid Body (Ex): A waterveiled assassin exercises supreme control over its watery form, allowing it to flow around attacks, flatten itself against the ground to avoid a spell’s blast, and so forth. Any effect or spell that allows a Reflex save for half damage has a 50% chance to have no effect on a waterveiled assassin. Even if it is affected, the waterveiled assassin can still attempt a saving throw against the spell’s effect as normal. This ability also gives the waterveiled assassin a greater reach on its melee attacks, effectively increasing its natural reach to 20 ft.

Malleable Form (Ex): A waterveiled assassin’s control overits form allows it to flow through tiny cracks in objectsand move through the earth, walls, and other obstacles.The assassin moves at normal speed through terrainthat slows movement. It can move through permeable objects at half speed, but it cannot move through completely solid barriers, such as those produced by a wall of stone or wall of force spell.

If a waterveiled assassin ends its movement completely within an object, opponents do not have line of sight or line of effect to it. Its reach drops to 0 feet. Any creatures engulfed within the assassin automatically break free of the grapple and fall prone in a square adjacent to the object. If only part of the assassin is in an object, but its remaining space cannot hold all the creatures within it, the assassin may choose which ones to release.

One With Water (Ex): A waterveiled assassin that is completely immersed in a volume of water that’s at least 15 ft. wide, 15 ft. long and 15 ft. deep is effectively invisible, as per the greater invisibility spell.

Water Mastery (Ex): A waterveiled assassin gains a +1 bonus on attack and melee damage rolls if both it and its opponent are touching water. If the opponent or the waterveiled assassin is touching the ground, the assassin takes a –4 penalty on attack and melee damage rolls. These modifiers also apply to bull rush and overrun maneuvers, whether the assassin is initiating or resisting these kinds of attacks.

A waterveiled assassin is a creature of living water sent by Kelizandri, the evil Elemental Lord of Water, to slay his cult’s enemies. This deadly killer can flow through the smallest cracks to ambush and engulf foes, and its fluid form and mastery of water lets it strike at opponents from unexpected angles.

The waterveiled assassin is a canny hunter, making use of terrain advantage and of all their special abilities to surprise foes and dispatch them quickly. A waterveiled assassin has no use for a fair fight; it usually approaches its target in open water, taking advantage of its invisibility, or hides within a wall or a large non-waterproof object that can contain its bulk. When its target closes, the waterveiled assassin surges forth, rolling over its foe and trying to drown him or batter him to death in its liquid body. A waterveiled assassin usually focuses on the least armored foes, knowing they are more likely to be arcane spellcasters or to have dangerous abilities, and drags them off to an isolated spot for the kill.

If a waterveiled assassin has a weakness, it is overconfidence – an assassin might leap on a party’s wizard or sorcerer while disregarding physically capable combatants, and giving them the chance to heap severe punishment upon the elemental.

A waterveiled assassin’s form is unstable, but it usually stands about 12 feet tall and weighs 1'000 pounds.

[thepapergirlandthespiegelman]

Sunday is not a Christian

Note: This post is being written prior to the release of Patch 2.7 and does not address any changes to Sunday's characterization from 2.7 onward.

Spoilers for Honkai: Star Rail "Penacony" arc below the cut

Especially since his drip marketing came out, I've seen a lot of people saying that Sunday is a Christian, "Sunday made me Christian," Christians complaining that Christianity is being vilified because Sunday is the antagonist of the Penacony arc, etc etc. I honestly don't understand how people can so radically misunderstand a character but let me provide some key quotes here to clarify the situation:

"It seems you have misunderstood my intentions. Allow me to clarify — My desire is not to resurrect a fallen Aeon or become one myself… My sole objective is to create a paradise free from Aeons, where the Order ensures the dignity and happiness of all humanity. A paradise exclusive to us human beings."

"The time has come. Creation will be reborn from the remains of the gods…"

"It was not you who created all things. It was humanity that created you! …Your divine being will become the foundation of our paradise!"

Sunday literally wants to usurp God's power to create heaven on earth for humanity. This is the literal opposite of Christianity. There is no version of Christianity in which this is not wildly heretical and blasphemous.

I understand that he has a halo and angel wings. I understand that he is (or at least was) a priest. I understand he has crosses on his gloves. I understand that he is absolutely drenched in Christian aesthetic and even sometimes phrases things in Christian, or at least religious, terms.

But if you listen to the actual words that he's saying, there is just absolutely no way to interpret him as a Christian.

Sunday is a complex character, and I think a lot of that complexity is being lost on people who want to flatten him into something more simple. Sunday is someone who had, and in a way still has, religious devotion. To the extent that Christianity exists in Star Rail in the form of the Harmony and the Order, it is true that Sunday's experiences and thinking have been shaped by Christianity. His profound empathy and compassion clearly originate in part from his religious experiences, including receiving confessions from his congregation. But he ultimately comes to realize that Aeons, the game's version of gods, cannot be depended upon to save humanity. While he maintains faith in his own values and dreams, which were influenced by his religion, he is no longer devoted to the religion itself or its gods.

Sunday is not a Christian but could perhaps be viewed as an ex-Christian who has become sort of a dystheist/misotheist/antitheist/atheist. Because the way that gods work is a little different in Star Rail compared to the real world, and because his perspective is complex, it's difficult to affix a particular label to him, but that's sort of the general ballpark. To really explain Sunday's philosophy and spirituality would require delving into some obscure concepts that I don't want to get into here (I would consider him sort of a spiritual anarchist, though I don't expect anyone other than me to know what that means), but I hope that this at least clarifies things a little.