#most others probably have under a third as many characters

[creatingblackcharacters]

“Across cultures, darker people suffer most. Why?” Multiethnic and Multicultural Blackness

“Across cultures, darker people suffer most. Why?”- Andre 3000

Tell me what's wrong with this picture.

Hint: This is Miles Morales- from the video game depiction- canonically an Afro-Puerto Rican. Jefferson is Black American; Rio is Puerto Rican.

So why is the Cuban flag on their wall?

This is what happens when no one (with any saying power) in the board room is representative of the group being depicted! And mind you, this was produced under SONY and MARVEL, for the PS5, a product under two brands that combined churn out hundreds of millions in profit! And… No one on any level corrected them until the beta came out and fans saw it. That's how pervasive this sort of ignorance of other cultures can be. How are you writing a story about a character, and you don't even know how he identifies?

Multiethnic & Multicultural Blackness

Realistically, you’ve probably walked past many a biracial, multicultural, or multiethnic Black person before and assumed they were “just Black”. One example: Rae Dawn Chong- known as Mama du Pointe du Lac- is Afro-Chinese, but that Chinese background did not play into the role she played. A more personal example: my recent loctician was also Afro-Chinese, with very dark skin (she made jokes about how her eyes reveal it, but we can’t make those jokes here). I would have never known.

Point is, we reacted to what we saw, and that’s not an accident. Blackness is treated as a monolith, and an indicator of social level whether you realize it or not. You see a ‘Black’ person, and without wondering any further about their identity, you will treat them as you’ve been socialized to treat ‘Black’ people! But every Black person is not the same!

You don't have to write an entire essay with citations mid-story about how you learned so much about the Afro-Chicana or Afro-Iraqi experience for your main character. We didn't ask. But, slipping natural things here and there into the story of a character’s culture helps cement that yes, this character has this multicultural identity and it matters to them; it is who they are, it has an effect on their life and character in some way. It is how you deepen the character and show respect for the culture you are depicting!

I love using Miles as an example, so here’s a good example. In Across The Spiderverse, he goes to a party to celebrate Jefferson’s new position. In that scene, Rio walks through a mix of all his family members. Even when he speaks with his parents in this scene, they managed to incorporate his Afro-Puerto Rican identity without shouting to the rooftops “HEY! HE’S BLACK AND LATINO! SEE HOW I’M TELLING YOU?”

Race vs Ethnicity

The Black experience stretches as far as the African diaspora- worldwide! It's why it's frustrating when people assume "Black people" means "United States" and the West's perception of "Third World Africa" (especially when it comes to existing in media that people have strongly claimed is just White). Latin and Central America? West Europe? East Europe? Southwest Asia and North Africa? The Mediterranean? East Asia? Australia? You will find Black people!! Just because we aren't the majority doesn't mean we aren't there!

But just because we're Black doesn't mean we're all "African-American". Ethnicity is "the quality or fact of belonging to a population group or subgroup made up of people who share a common cultural background or descent." Race is "a categorization of humans based on shared physical or social qualities into groups generally viewed as distinct within a given society."

"But I thought you said Black is an identity!"

It is! Black does not only mean “Black American”. The reason Black Americans identify as just Black (which is why I demand that you show respect by capitalizing it) is due to the loss of our specific heritages from the enslavement meant to scourge us of them, to make us property. To call us by our actual names would be acknowledging our equivalent humanity and culture. In order to enforce slavery without qualm, they had to be violently removed. Black Africans of numerous ethnic groups, now violently forced into this amalgamation, had to come together and forge something new. We had to find a common connection- our Blackness (and that experience as defined by whiteness in this society) was it. It also functions as a reclamation of our identity, of our presence in this world. We are a culture, we are an entire group of people, and we should be acknowledged as such.

Again: all Black people are NOT the same!!! This is like… anti-racism 101, but so many people continue to fall for it, even those ‘well-meaning’. You cannot ask one Black person to represent the ENTIRETY of the world's Black experience. Many other factors will come into play, and this includes their culture.

Keep in mind how being multicultural and/or biracial and Black will put many people at a crossroads that is complex and difficult to traverse. There will always be parts of incomplete acceptance, an extra layer of code-switching based on where you are and who you're with. A Black Kenyan is not a Black American, who is not a Black Greek, who is not a Black Colombian, who is not a Black Filipino. They're different cultures, that will treat each other differently. Society- from strangers to your own family- may try to pull multiethnic Black people one direction or another- are you ‘Black’ enough, are you ‘technically Black’, are you ‘technically’ something else, are you that ethnicity enough?

(I will discuss Black biracial people with whiteness in the next lesson, because I felt like the interracial and biracial White & Black topic needed its own talk, but this is relevant there as well.)

Where- In the world- Is-

Coming back from the opening of this lesson: keep in mind that you need to know specifically WHERE your character is from! For example, just saying they're "Afro-Latino" reveals very little- there's an entire chunk of the planet that falls under the "Latin America" category (as defined by U.S. standards).

A follower of mine- they identify as Caribbean Latine- sent me this in discussion about the topic:

"I wish people actually thought about where their Afro-Latino characters are from. It’s always very vague and it’s so reductive because an Argentinian Afro-Latino is very different from a Puerto Rican Afro-Latino. This is very subjective but I think this issue is pretty blatant in The Owl House. They flash the Dominican flag a couple of times, but when it comes to actually making her Afro-Latino…I don’t think they did a very good job. They barely made her Black in the first place. I don’t want to dog on the voice actors too much because there are a million factors that might have affected this but. When they make a point to have the characters speak Spanish, it’s really noticeable when the accent/dialect doesn’t align with their ethnicity. Dominicans have a really identifiable dialect in Spanish. When the Afro-Latino characters speak in Spanish, it’s the most neutral accent I’ve ever heard. This is such a me-issue, but this is to say that people should actually research where their characters are from instead of vaguely painting them as Afro-Latino. We are all SOOO different. Our dialects vary so much that sometimes an Afro-Mexican and an Afro-Puerto Rican won’t understand each other even though we speak the same language.”

WHO are we talking about? How does that factor into their identity, and the way the world- both in story, and how readers from around the world- will perceive them? Will an Afro-Dominican know that they're supposed to relate to your character if they're vaguely Latino?

Note:

While I was doing my research, I noticed that searching for “Afro-_” doesn’t always offer much, as it does the ubiquitous antiblack experience and roles in politics and resistance. And while I think that’s super cool and mandatory, I think another way to approach this would be to focus on the culture as a whole, and then go from there. So for example, if I wanted my character to be Afro-Mexican- maybe even from a specific location in Mexico, or their family is from that area- it would be easier to look up the cultures and activities of that area itself, and then inform with my knowledge of how Blackness is treated there.

As I am not a member of these groups, I thought it would be better for me to find resources that better explain, than to try to speak for them myself. Hell, just from doing this research, I learned that I have far more to educate myself on. There are so many good resources out there! People speak on these topics that y’all want to know about, and there are so many books and videos- find them and educate yourselves! This is a long section filled with links, so I'm going to put them under a readmore.

I also could not possibly sit here and name every single ethnic combo because that would be endless. So what I'm going to do is give some broad strokes of a few major groupings, that will hopefully start you on the path of how to conduct your own research!

The African Diaspora

This is such a good resource. There are short chapters going into the details and history of Black people in many regions, all around the globe. I’m honestly in love with how this is set up. It's a good starting point!

Black Africans

This one isn't specifically an example of multiethnicity; I just want to emphasize that there are many ethnicities and cultures within Africa itself! One is still multiethnic if they are Black American and Ivorian, for example! As the birthplace of humanity, there are plenty of ethnic groups in Africa with endlessly rich cultures, and all of them will come with different foods, fashions, languages!

Notable Figures: Nelson Mandela, Tobi Lou, Patrice Lumumba, Tems, Wizkid, Kwame Nkrumah, Chinua Achebe, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Wangarĩ Maathai, Agnes Tirop, Chéri Samba, Sheikh Abdullah Ssekimwanyi

Internalized antiblackness in African countries is due to the long and violent history of western imperialism in Africa. “The Carving Up of Africa” by European nations has long worn on the continent, its resources, and its peoples, and that includes remnants of their beliefs. Another pervasive idea in media is that all African peoples are ‘poor’, ‘living in huts’, and ‘starving’. There are people doing that all over the world, it is not inherent to being Black African. But even if that were the case- and it is not, every African does not live that way- it would still be the fault of aforementioned imperialism. Please do your research, and do not EVER write that if someone is African, they ‘must not be used to food’ or ‘have never seen such magnificent things as [what white character offers]’.

Afro Latinos

Notable figures: Celia Cruz, Frantz Fanon, Zoe Saldaña, Colman Domingo, Lupita Nyongo, Gina Torres, Cardi B, MJ Rodriguez

Notable music styles- Reggaeton? Salsa? Rumba? A lot of the best music of the area has roots in Blackness.

Antiblackness in the Afro-Latino community

Colorism plays a huge role in perception, to the point of putting you into classes of people. From the same Caribbean Latine follower:

Also, they have to do research on racial groupings in LATAM. It’s unavoidable. A Latino that’s considered Black in the USA may not be considered Black in LATAM. This is because of Blanqueamiento. That is a LOT to explain, but TLDR: A big difference between racism in the USA and racism in LATAM is that white people aren’t focused on segregation. It’s racism through imposition. “Blanqueamiento” refers to whitening and it’s the belief that you can cleanse the bloodline by having children with white people. The lineage will get increasingly lighter. That is why whenever a child comes out lighter than their parents, people will praise the parents for “bettering the race” (mejorando la raza). So a light skinned Black person in the USA may have another racial classification in LATAM (prieto, moreno, mulato, etc)."

One example is 'pelo malo' (bad hair)- how afro-textures are deemed unwanted, as a holdover from Spanish colonization and ideas of whiteness being equivalent to purity. Another severe example is of the slur "mayate"- apparently, it means "f*ggot black bug". If you're Black, and someone ever calls you this, know that you are being severely insulted. If you are interested in more Afro-Mexican history, Colonial Blackness by Herman Bennett is a book that follows the stories of enslaved Africans and their descendants in 17th century Mexico, questioning the existing history told that often leaves out their presence.

Afro Indigenous

*Indigenous doesn't just mean "to America", though the links are to the Afro-indigenous experience in the U.S.

Notable Figures: Crispus Attucks, Lucy Parsons, George Henry White, Charlie Patton, Jimi Hendrix, Eartha Kitt, Lena Horne, Ausben Jordan

What’s interesting is that it was much harder for me to find solid evidence of people who are Black Natives, mainly because it seems this history was lost and/or never recorded, or due to Blood Quantum and antiblackness, not acknowledged. That is something worth thinking about, if you are writing an Afro-Native character.

Blood quantum: A system developed by the United States federal government to determine how much “Indian blood” an Indigenous person has and if they are qualified for Tribal enrollment. Blood quantum limits accessibility to citizenship and is designed to decrease enrollment numbers. Today, some tribes still use blood quantum as criteria for Tribal enrollment. As part of their sovereign status, every federally recognized Tribe determines its own criteria for membership and enrollment.

Further reading:

Young, Black Native activists say it's time to appreciate Indigenous diversity

Black Indians: A Hidden Heritage

Blood Politics: Race, Culture, and Identity in the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma By Circe Sturm (2002)

We Refuse to Forget: A True Story of Black Creeks, American Identity, and Power By Caleb Gayle (2023)

Afro-Arab/SWANA

Notable figures: Bilal ibn Rabah, Fatima Bernawi, Layla F. Saad, Samirah Srur Fadel, Ahmed Osman, Sara El Hassan (known as bsonblast), Ali Jiddah, Maryam Abu Khaled

Here's an amazing resource cataloguing the history of Afro-Palestinians, as well as a timeline of the solidarity between Black Americans, Afro-Palestinians, and Palestinians!

I sat here and tried very hard to come up with a way to summarize this, especially given current events in our world, and I found that at this moment, I lack the skill to do it. Not because there’s nothing to say- God knows there’s plenty- but unraveling the intersections that comes with the SWANA experience would take me far longer than a summary. I think Maryam Abu Khaled can speak on her experience far better than I, anyway:

Afro-AAPI

Notable figures: apl.de.ap, Michael Ealy, H.E.R., Karrueche, Rae Dawn Chong, Naomi Campbell, Naomi Osaka, Chanel Iman, Anderson Paak

Interview from famous R&B artist, guitarist, actress for Belle, and Afro-Filipina: H.E.R.

There is a strain between Black and Asian communities, in the United States and beyond, white supremacy playing a major role. But that does not mean that we cannot move forward together, or have not shown one another solidarity.

One of my biggest pet peeves that happens often in fandom spaces is fans who claim that Asians- East Asians in particular, but Asians in general- don't know what Black people are and what we look like. It's racist to every ethnicity and background involved. Yes, there are Black East Asian and Black South Asian people. Yes, these countries have access to the Internet to look up what we look like. There have been plenty of well-drawn Black people by those artists. Just like every white artist isn't going to draw a caricature, every Asian artist isn't going to. It all comes down to practice, their commitment to their craft, and their commitment to not being racist. Being from these areas is not an excuse for not drawing Black people accurately- the same amount of effort they can be put into depicting a white person (that would also be a minority in these places), can be put into depicting us as well. Knock it off.

Conclusion

Antiblackness is unfortunately ubiquitous, yes, but that doesn’t mean the rest of every Black person’s life experience is going to be. We are everywhere on this planet, which means there’s a planet’s worth of experiences to be had. If you decide that you want to create a Black character with a multiethnic or multicultural background, you need to commit to that! Even by mentioning their music, or their food, or- if you’re going to get into it- how others might treat them due to their Afro-identity. Something that lets us as the viewers know that you didn’t just write a white person and then claim they were “Afro-Blank” for clout. If you mean it, do it, because as always, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @rhonnie23, @minghaosimp

[determunition]

i took the switcheroo week as an excuse to finally try my hand at some scrybeswap designs! got a bit carried away as you can see, i love doing character design so much

decided to keep their species/major design elements fairly consistent (e.g. grimora's makeup, mag being vague and indistinct, leshy having nonhuman legs, p03 only having one arm) while still switching up their aesthetics as needed; super happy with all of these as a result!

design notes for each scrybe under the cut! def open to any further questions or curiosities, i always think way too hard about characters while designing them lmao

P03:

scrybe of the dead: i went for a possessed tv vibe; he's still mechanical but those bones do have a living soul trapped in them...also shoutout to @squid-hug for suggesting the x-ray machine, i was very tickled by that lmao

scrybe of beasts: overgrown old bot was kind of a given for this one, but i was also thinking that the plants are part of what's keeping him running somehow

scrybe of magicks: the magic eye is the core powering that top monitor, and the two side monitors display what he's seeing with that eye at any given time

grimora:

scrybe of beasts: she's a witch! like a chill terry pratchett kind of witch, she works with a lot of herbs and such; also her makeup is meant to mimic blood drops

scrybe of magicks: magick grimora is more of a warlock type, her magic is a lot more sinister and she almost never opens her eyes (whereas her third eye is basically always open)

scrybe of tech: tech grimora is kind of a wacky machinist-flavored dr. frankenstein; she inscribes by writing on circuitboards!

leshy:

scrybe of the dead: this leshy is a gargoyle/vampire hybrid! i thought a mirror would be fun for him bc you can get two different cultural refs; medusa (bc stone gargoyle), and the idea that vampires don't appear in mirrors!

scrybe of magicks: i decided to make him a bird guy (kinda harpy-esque) bc he's basically a more whimsical baba yaga hermit; the baba yaga thing carries over from slavic folklore obvs. also he has polycoria!

scrybe of tech: tech leshy was super fun, bc he's steampunk! rather than animal legs i gave him digitigrade robot legs, but other than that he's the most like, normal human guy here probably lmao; despite his well-adjusted appearance though i still think he's got a bit of freaky wonk in him

magnificus:

scrybe of the dead: this one was very ring-inspired lol, got those clump of hair you found in the shower drain vibes

scrybe of beasts: bush magnificus real! i think he'd be a bit more quirky trickster fae in this form

scrybe of tech: one of my favorites; tech mag is an emaciated cyborg draped in so many loose cords and wires that you can't tell what he looks like anymore. a lot of those cords are connected to him, and he plugs them in wherever as needed! he also has a drawing stylus, making him just an average art student tbh lmao

[mithrilhearts]

My takeaway from the past 24+ hours...

There are so many of us that rely on ao3, whether you're a reader or writer. It brings us joy, it gives us an escape from the real world, and it lets us come together as a community to share stories and scenarios about our favorite fandoms and characters. The amount of posts I have seen on multiple platforms lamenting over the DDoS attacks is overwhelming - but with most of them comes a delightful cheer to the volunteers working to resolve this issue.

I've seen so many statements of praise for those volunteers, which is exactly what they deserve, and more. Can you imagine working for over 24 hours straight, on a volunteer basis, against something like this? They're the real MVPs, and I think our appreciation for them gets lost until moments like this rise.

With that said, here is my first real takeaway...

Don't bitch when ao3 does a donation drive. They work hard to keep the archive up and running, and with that costs money. Every server, every new addition or feature you want to see added to help make the site better, it costs money. The legal team that is defending fanfic authors??? MONEY. SO! DON'T! COMPLAIN!

I'm not saying you have to go out and donate your paycheck to ao3 - but I will say that, especially with this situation, if you can donate even a little bit to show your support, it means more than you probably realize, and even if you can't donate (which is totally okay), be kind to those who work on the archive. Send them kind words of encouragement, rather than flaming the archive because it's under attack - because yeah, I've seen people bitching AT ao3 for not working fast enough, or for it still being down. STOP IT.

My second takeaway...

Don't believe everything you see on the internet. Ao3 themselves have advised that the group claiming to take credit for this attack is to be treated with skepticism. And not only that, let's NOT automatically make assumptions about who is responsible just because of an organization's name. It's just a NAME, it doesn't identify a person's origin, background, etc. But I'm not here to dive into that much further. Point: I better not see any Sudanese hatred on my dash, or I will bite you.

My third takeaway...

Treat your fanfic writers with respect. We all now see first hand how much we depend on these stories. As I said above, for some it's an escape, a creative release, and a way to communicate with other people through similar interests. It's a beautiful creation, neither above nor below any other kind of literature.

Consider commenting, reblogging, kudos, anything you can to let the authors know you enjoyed and appreciate their works. Everyone is free to communicate in the way that suits them best, but every little bit is appreciated - as a fanfic writer myself, I can tell you that even a little heart emoji has made my day. It's like receiving a second kudos, and tells me that someone appreciated my efforts enough to give me a double thumbs up.

Any form of communication with the authors is appreciated. It lets them know that people are genuinely interested. We live in a world where INSTANT GRATIFICATION is taking over, but creations such as this take time. Talk with the authors, ask them about their wips, tell them they're doing a great job. Do NOT pester about "when are you updating next?" or the dreaded AI option - again, I will BITE PEOPLE if I see you doing this. Just...have some respect, show your appreciation, it's more than JUST FANFIC.

At the end of the day I guess this post is about being kind. Not pointing fingers or slandering people due to a name. It's about appreciating the things we do have, and not taking them for granted. Whether it's the brave cyber warriors currently fighting these DDoS attacks on the frontline, or the authors writing for not only their enjoyment, but for others too. Let's all respect one another, and show our support when and where we can.

HUGE THANK YOU TO THE VOLUNTEERS AT AO3, YOU ARE THE REAL MVPS!!!

[bluexiao]

#i love you, goodbye

—when they were about to confess their love… but you died / when they fail to confess to you

CHARACTERS. Albedo, Al-Haitham, Cyno, Gorou, Kazuha, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Xiao; gn! Reader

THEMES. main character death, angst, no comfort

WARNINGS. death (ofc), will not be too graphic

NOTES. still severely sick and stressed so here ya go. grab ur tissues i didn’t hold back in this one.

XIAO knew what love was—knew the affection he held to his brothers and sisters, and the love that emanated from the humans towards each other.

“You do know that humans… humans are very fragile, Xiao.”

He continues to bow his head in front of his god as he agrees, “I do.”

Zhongli said nothing more, but Xiao knew what he meant. It was advice. And a warning.

“Xiao!” You always called him with that beautiful voice of yours, ever so sweet, ever so tender as you bless him with your bright smile—a sun.

You are his sun.

“Xiao!” His heart would flutter once more—why do you have such an effect on him?—but at that point, he knew that no matter how hard he tried or tries to move away, your pull on him was strong, far stronger than the chains that were wrapped around his ever so fragile heart.

“Xiao…” it was on the third call that he decided to show up. He had been fighting enemies for the first two ones, and besides, you usually call him to merely see him or “hang” with him—a word you’d use as you try to lean into his side, your skin brushing his hands—so close yet not tied to each other.

He showed up, but he was far too late.

He was wrong.

“Y/n!” he calls your name this time—shouts it as he quickly approaches your figure.

“Y/n…” he pulls your body to his, empty and hollow, devoid of the same bright sunlight plastered in your face, the same beaming smile and shining eyes that could light up the night—light up his whole world.

“Y/n…” he wanted to say how he loves you so, how you bring out the best of him, and how he wanted to thank you for everything, for your patience, your presence, your love, your mere existence in his karmic-filled life.

But you were not there to hear anything of it.

And so he cries—cries under the same heavens that also took his brothers and sisters, cries because he couldn’t be there to save you when you were probably hurting, and he cries because of his own weakness—how he could love and always have that same love be taken away from him.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ��⚘݄꒱₊

SCARAMOUCHE has had many betrayals.

But yours probably hurts the most.

“What happened?”

He glared at the Fatuus in front of him, kneeling on their knees with their heads bowed down in shame.

He crouches into one of them and sends daggers with his gaze, “I asked what happened here.”

The Fatuu trembled upon the sound of his voice, “M-my lord… it happened so suddenly, we couldn’t-their sickness-“

“Useless!” He releases a strike of his power and his subordinates immediately move to dodge, but they couldn’t walk away, not when they know that in the end, they can never run away from the Sixth Harbinger.

Yet unexpectedly, he trudges forward, to the big tent that laid in the middle of the camp, his footsteps and breathing heavy, hands trembling—of anger? Of fear?

No. A divine being such as him doesn’t tremble of fear.

Even when his knees give up beside the bed where you currently lay peacefully, even if he tries to control the tears that threaten to escape his eyes, he reaches for your hands.

Cold. So cold—like the night where he picked up the stars and called you as his—his star.

But it seems stars do die as well.

Pathetic.

And he’s even more pathetic to believe that humans will never betray him—that you never would.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

VENTI sings of love to you, yet today marks the day that he shall confess outrightly—genuinely, with a promise of tomorrow’s kisses and hugs.

“Shhh, darling. No need to worry for me,” he smiles, “rest now. Shall I sing you a lullaby?”

He catches you forcing your own smile, and it pains him how you raise your hand and touch his cheek, which he holds and presses your palm on his skin, as if he was trying to transfer the warmth he has towards your frail form.

“Venti…” you let out your voice, hoarse and weak, “you knew… didn’t you?”

He purses his lips and his chest aches.

“You don’t have to… act like you love me too.”

He fails to catch his own tears, dribbling down his cheeks as he struggles to find the words.

“I-“

“I love you... But please don’t… pretend… for me.”

He squeezes your hand, and just as he was to utter the same words you did, to confess those three words that laid stuck in his throat—

“Y/n?” Instead, it was your name that he attempted to call, then he shook you, only to receive no word back.

“I…” I love you too—he wanted to say, but it died down. Once again.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

There is danger in the forest, just as much as there are things to discover and admire. That is what TIGHNARI used to say to you.

It was a flora, a flower he had asked you to try and find—the same ones he was collecting for you, a suggestion from Collei for him to profess his love to you.

Let’s get this over with, he thinks. After all, he does love you, and it was an idea that seemed fairly interesting, to ask you to look for a flower and for him to give you the whole bouquet once you reach his side.

The thing is, you never did.

He was silent when he reached the village, his ears downwards as nobody dared to approach him. It was the aura he emitted, the faint heaviness of his footsteps, and the body that he held close to his own.

“Master-“ Collei tries, but someone else stops her, shakes their head as the girl merely frowns. How could this be? She begins to think, one minute you were there and the second…

“Collei,” she casts her thoughts aside as Tighnari finally speaks, yet he doesn’t turn to face them, halted in front of his abode as he adds on, “can you… prepare some water… to clean their wounds.”

“O-of course!” Her heart was pounding, but no matter how unprepared she was to see you-

“I’ll do the rest… don’t worry.” He says before he enters the hut, all alone.

He did not shed a single tear as he cleans your body. But nobody can ever know Tighnari’s cries as he holds his tail close to him, aching for the warmth that you once gave him.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

KAZUHA’s poems always reach you. No matter how much distance he takes away from you, or crosses to go back into your arms, his poems and his flowery hidden confessions of love always reach your ears.

At the right time, he begs to himself, he will finally be able to say them to your face, when he could rid himself of the shackles of his past and live freely with you.

But those same shackles come and haunt him once again. In the form of yours.

“What happened?”

“I’m sorry… but they were attacked by Hilichurls and…”

“No one was there to save them.” Even as he says the words, there was this ache in his chest and prickle on the tips of his fingers, finally reaching out to your cold hand.

Death is a familiar face for Kazuha, but there is something far too different this time.

This time, he thought he had healed. He thought he was stronger. He even went away for it—only to come back with those same wounds and no one there waiting for him.

He places a kiss on your hand once he finds himself leaned over, unable to go without saying his last goodbye.

“In another life… Y/n,” he whispers in the wind, as if he could feel your presence there, and despite finding it difficult to look at your face without seeing your beautiful eyes and smile, he forces himself and says, “In another life… my dove.”

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

GOROU is a good General.

Anyone who was under him can attain to such, and even you. You respected him so much, trusted him so much.

And loved him so much.

“Gorou!”

He was right in front of you, you were right in front of him. The blade pierces through your body, but it feels like it has pierced his heart as well.

“No, no, Y/n—no!”

“Protect the General and Y/n!” The other soldiers went and gathered around both of you, shielding you both from the upcoming arrows and spears your way.

“Y/n… no, don’t-“ he cries, unable to stop the tears that drip down his eyes.

“General, you have to take them out of here.”

Gorou finally finds the courage to carry you and rush his way to the side, out of reach from the battlefield.

“Retreat!”

As the shouts with the same word echoed around him, he could only hear your voice and feel your touch that reached his ears, that despite your weakening strength, you showed him that smile of yours—no matter how forced or painful it must have been.

“Gorou..”

“No, don’t speak, you don’t have to-you’ll be okay-“

“I’m sorry,” you say as he shakes his head, unable to accept the apology, “I’m sorry I had to die like this.”

“No, you won’t die-you can’t die!” He still has something to say—a lot of things to say. You can’t die now! Not when-

“I love you,” you whisper, out of breath, “so much.”

Those were your last words. And no matter how many soldiers had perished under his command, yours held a hole in his heart that he can never fill—a hole that even a good General can never heal.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

Everyone feared CYNO—his voice, his face, his spear, his very name, his wrath.

Oh how wrong they were to assume they had seen his wrath—because only until now had he shown it in an intensity no one could have imagined.

“What did you do?” He sneers, scarlet eyes glaring down, only to grab the clothes of the Mercenary, pulling him up without difficulty, “What did you do?”

The Mercenary chuckles despite the predicament he was in. “What? Failed to profess your love to the feeble thing?”

Everyone knew. Every single person in Sumeru knew that you were one of the people who the Great General Mahamatra cherished—probably much more than the few others. After all, you were the one who always stuck beside him, sometimes hiding behind a rock as he fought, or a bush when he talked to someone.

“Shut up! You don’t deserve to even mention them.” Cyno grits his teeth.

“So, I hit the nail, didn’t I?”

The Mahamatra throws the Mercenary away as he closes his fingers into fists.

He may never be able to bring you back.

But he can bring justice to your death, and nobody can ever escape the grasps of Cyno.

Except for you.

You slipped away before he can even tell you what he wanted to say, and now, there was no turning back.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

AL-HAITHAM never regrets.

Regret is an emotion he had found to be so useless, and with that experimental mind of his, mistakes are merely normal, and if there was no point or way to try again, he can just discard the plan.

But there was no way he could discard you.

“It’s the Scribe!”

Everyone’s murmurs overcome the hall and he frowns even more.

How could he be so… unplanned with this.

“Scribe, we saw their body when-“

He motions for them to go away, and wordlessly, they do, quite remarkable, he thinks. But maybe, it was their pity—was he obvious? Of course, he was. He had tried so hard to amuse you, to make you feel his feelings despite the outer appearance and expression he had always kept. But you were as dense as a rock.

And unfortunately, he was wrong this time around.

“So this… is what regret feels like.” he mutters the words as he spares you his last glance, his last words, and his last time, all before he goes and turns away, an ache in his chest that he knew but can never rid. Not now, at least.

┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊

If ALBEDO was asked what was the meaning of life, he wouldn’t still be able to answer outrightly.

To live? To love? To spend time with others?

There can be a lot of answers—to anyone else, his answer could be very well different.

Well, he thought he did have an answer. But maybe, life was just too cruel to him—him, a homunculus that doesn’t know life and death and only knows how to survive.

But you taught him how to love.

Of course, he does love Klee, but the love you taught him was different, far too warm, too genuine, a romantic kind of love that he had not experienced in his whole life.

“I love you, but you don’t have to love me too. I’ll always be here for you, bedo!” Those were your words, and he clung to these words despite the stirring feelings his mechanical heart was feeling.

So warm. So genuine.

“I apologize,” he breathes out, “But I did love you too, Y/n… I apologize for never voicing it out. I’m sorry…”

And now he stares at the gravestone in front of him, written was your name that he used to always call out, used to always associate with the bright sun or the moon or the stars—anything that was too beautiful for this world—you were too precious for this world, and maybe that’s why life itself had to meddle and steal you away from those who loved you—from him.

If Albedo is asked what was the meaning of life, he’d probably tell of the love you gave, and the love he failed to give—to never do anything that makes you regret, or you’ll end up just like him.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated!!

(taglist either on reblogs or comments)

[factual-fantasy]

25 asks! Thank you! :}} 👹

I have it in the back of my mind, but I haven't actually made any steps in making more master posts.. 😔

ReBLOGGING is good! Its a feature of Tumblr and helps more people find my artwork! Very nice :))

RePOSTING is stealing my art and posting it on your own account. Giving you and only you all the credit. That's theft and no good!

I think I remember wanting my sona to be an object head of some kind. I think I doodled probably a dozen different ideas before I got frustrated and just scribbled my most recent attempt out.

But then it hit me. I doodled two little white eyes on the scribble and I knew I had found my sona XDD

@xxthedragonrebornxx

XD Thank you for remembering my boundaries and respecting them! :)) And THANK YOU FOR THE CUPCAKE!! :DDD

I haven't read it, but I've seen it blowing up all over tumblr. It must be pretty cool! :00

@milk-powrit

<XD I won't lie, Bill is a fantastic villain. I just "hate" him because Stanley is my favorite character and Bill put his family through hell 💀

Most of the team: "Aww 🥰💞💞"

Gloria: "WHO ARE YOU AND HOW ARE YOU HOLDING ALL OF US UP AT ONCE"

@pink088

<XD These past 2-3 days have just hammered me health wise, but I can at least say that I've been sleeping enough!

And thanks for the check in! I wish you the best :))

(Pokemon violet comic(?))

:DD Thank you!! I'm glad you liked it!! :)))

If I ever really go into those series I would :00 But I cant remember the Godziilla movies- plus that would be really hard to draw <XDD

There's so many sonic medias that i wouldn't know which one to go by- and I've seen playthroughs of Poppy playtime but it never really grabbed my interest.. <XD

I'll do my best to keep up with all that <XDD Thank you!

(Frank butterfly post)

Oh there's no need to worry about Frank! It might be hard to tell- but that was actually a moth! Frank had bags under his eyes because he was out late studying moths :))

<XD Well considering Homes intentions are intended to be unknown- you're free to imagine that! :D

@skywillow28022

ohmygosh the third movie is so good I actually cant watch it anymore lest I burst into tears 😭😭😭💞💞💞 10/10 WOULD recommend cars 3--

Anyways- I ADORE the cars franchise and absolutely would have drawn them more.. if cars weren't so hard to draw <XD Plus my favorite thing to draw is angsty cuddles and hugs and big droopy eyes and tears- that's kiiiind'a hard to pull off if your characters are cars-

Of course I could always draw them as humans like many other artists have.. but idk, it just doesn't feel the same you know? <XD

Also thank you! I hope you day goes well too! :))

@neo-metalscottic (Welcome home post(?)) (Octonauts eye study) (Oxem and Pepemijo comic)

AAAAA Thank you sop much! :DD I'm glad you've been liking my recent posts!

As for Oxem and Pepemijo, I cant show images because of the stupid 30 images limit-- But Pepemigo is based on/inspired by the Year of the dragon mask, and Oxem is based on the current season of Duets seasonal guide mask! :00

I imagine there are other dragons out there, like that other sky dragon that I made one time-- <XDD I don't really have any ideas for their powers or their story, but I had intended that Pepemijo at least knocked the krill out in self defense. Thankfully they wont be hunted by krill following that event- Oxem got them to a safe place and he knows that he should steer clear of krill territory in the future <XD

And of course! I'd love to see any critters that you've made! :DDD

@sussyhahag

uhg, always disappointing to see.. thank you for letting me know though 😔

*VERY LOUD CARTOON BROKEN HEART SOUND* (I LOVE THISSS)

<XD yup.

Also even though that disclaimer is there for FNAF and Octonauts, I still get people harassing me anyways!.... :')

@vesselofmanythings

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDD And I wish you luck on your slime rancher creative adventure!! :}}}

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD That means a lot!!! :))

@starsbee

This shouldn't have made me laugh as much as it did XDD

@wolfie-777

Oh no.... THAT MUST BE ME WELCOME HOME AU COMING BACK--

@anikakitty11

Somethin ain't right with that dog <XDD

@edelgeist (Referencing this post)

oooh :00 I wasn't aware of that- thank you for the info! Perhaps I should invest in a cooling pad <XD

I have not <:( But after googling it- I love the artstyle! :DD

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Just a couple observations after I watched the film for the third time (help I can't stop 😭😭),

He definitely looks at her when she says he's covered in vibranium

He's down bad from then on

In the very last scene in the Talokan journey, I see him reach for her hand

He listens to her and tries to reason with her, which I haven't seen him do with anyone else before.

He never reasons with Ramonda. When she asks him what she could give him in exchange for Shuri, he says 'Nothing' with a damn smile.

He tells Ramonda that he'll kill Shuri if his request isn't met, but he says it in the most unconvincing manner possible, this man who dressed her up with the finest clothes is not going to do that when he had so many opportunities to do so before.

He jives his spear into the hull of the ship when he could have easily killed her there, it's like he didn't want her to interfere.

He's reevaluating his choices as he sees her break when Ramonda dies, but true to his character being 'a kid without love' he moves on in the way he knows, by following duty.

He's stroking the little sea shell telephone before their war like a miserable longing ex boyfriend 🤣 was he waiting for her to ring him up and call it off?

He looks up at her when she leads the ship and then reluctantly starts fighting?

He's alone in the ship with her and he's probably thinking things were about to go differently.

"It could have been different", is etched in my mind the way he says it.

The score "Con la brisa", "it could have been different" and "Vengeance has consumed us" are for scenes with only Namor and Shuri. Tell me why its like it has been taken out of an enemies to lovers booktok playlist? (LUDWIG does his research impeccably well, I will trust this man's music like it's the absolute truth, the strings in that section is romantic)

Also in Shuri's recollection of events, she sees Namor smiling. You don't think of your villains like that.

He yields. And yes people may think he's waiting to exact his revenge but I interpret that scene as someone having met their equal.

He goes home to heal him self, draw fan art of him and Shuri and then fangirl about the black panther. His cousin's like bruh what are you on about.

Sidenote: when books exist with vampires, faes, elves, Greek gods, other immortal beings and Game of thrones couples, Shuri is an adult in the movie. The age gap doesn't matter in a fictional world but, Shuri's got it under control guys.

So anyway, I love this man

[thewickling]

I realized that the updated Tag Search function makes it way easier to attempt to parallel search relationships including a specific character.

This method works better for characters who are not glitter and shipped with every person and creature and object under the sun.

This tutorial is written for people not familiar with tag ids. If you know how tag ids work, you should read the last two paragraph of this tutorial first.

You can find the Tag Search by looking at the menu at the top of the AO3 page that’s off to the left side.

Click Search and click Tag (the third option from the top).

Type in your character. If the character only ever appears in one fandom, you also include that. If the character you want to search as a very common name, you will probably have to include a fandom to avoid pulling in unrelated tags. Do not include more than one fandom otherwise the result will only pull up any tags that exist in all the fandoms you listed.

Select Relationship for type

Select Canonical

Hit Search Tags

The results should pull up every relationship that includes that character for that specific fandom or if you did not restrict by fandom, every relationship that has character with an identical name to the character you’re searching for.

For the character I picked, “Arm”, there are 29 results.

Open the Work Search page in a new tab or window. You can find a link in the same menu as Tag Search.

Or you can also open it through button labeled Work Search beside the Tag Search heading.

On the Work Search page, find the Any Field box. 

This next part will be time-consuming but you will need to format all the relationships you want to parallel search like this: "X/Y" OR "X & A"  OR   "B & Z".

The tags need to match how they were shown on the Tag Search page. Each relationship needs to be placed between straight quotes. Curly quotes will break this search. Between each relationship tag, there needs to be an OR in all caps, but not one at the start or end.

After you’ve formatted things like this you can paste it into the Any Field box. (You could have just composed your search in there but if you’re parallel searching many relationship tags, doing it in notepad or something may make it easier to see what you’ve already included.)

There are filter options on this page. If you want to sort by completed or such, this is the point you need to do it at this point. This kind of search does not allow you to filter after you have clicked search. Unlike filtering on a specific tag, there is no filtering sidebar. A few other caveats:

If you want to exclude tags, you will have to input them into the Any Field box alongside the relationship tags. Those excluded tags will need to be formatted like such: - "tag 1"  - "tag 2"

Basically they just need a minus sign in front of them. You do not need to include OR between them.

If you include more than one tag in the Character, Relationship, or Additional Tag boxes, the search will only bring up results that match all of your search parameters. So if you inputted “Fluff” and “High School” into the Additional Tag field, it would only bring up works that have both the “Fluff” and “High School” tag as well as any of the relationship tags in the Any Field.

I just want search for every work that includes Arm so I have no other filtering added. It looks like something below.

Once you’ve finished setting up your search, click the search button.

In the case of my search, I only set it up to pull up any of the 29 relationship tags I found  that included Arm. When I saved this screenshot, there were 412 results.

A few important things to note. While AO3 doesn’t really restrict how many text characters you put into the Any Field box, most browsers have a limit. So if you want to parallel search a lot of relationship or any tags in fact, you may run into your browser breaking your search.

If you’re searching a high number of tags, it’s better to use tag ids instead because they’re shorter and so you’ll be able to include way more information with less text characters. The tutorial works similarly except the list will be formatted like such: filter_ids:123 OR filter_id:456

You will not need to put quotes around a tag id. To find a tag id, you can open a specific tag and look at its RSS Feed, or by using the following script: https://greasyfork.org/en/scripts/29917-ao3-display-tag-id  

[whenmemorydies]

Violence and Love in Monkey Man

Dev Patel's Monkey Man has played at my mind for two weeks now. This is for reasons that I'm able to articulate and for many that I probably have not yet been able to find the words for. This post is, in part, my attempt at sorting through some of my thoughts. My tumblr is all spoilers all the time. If you don’t want that, then please don’t read on.

Violence

Like most places in the world, systemic violence is a scourge in India. Monkey Man does not shy away from this reality and depicts Hindu nationalist state violence and violence against women and gendered minorities in the country to chilling effect.

We come to see this in the brutal rape and murder of Kid's activist mother at the hands of the police, while she tries to shield her child and her land from police and state terror. We see it in the treatment of (largely femme-presenting) sex workers in the two brothels featured in the film, including one frequented by the police and political elite. We see it in the violence and ostracisation meted out against the hijra, or third gender community by individual actors and the state more broadly. We see it in the state-orchestrated razing of an entire community after the land on which it sits is declared a "holy site". We see it in the movement of people from the regions to the city after their land has been stolen and the grinding poverty they face as a result.

Unlike so many action films, none of the violence in Monkey Man occurs in a vacuum. Even Kid's original means of making money in an underground fighting ring is done against the backdrop of his forced displacement from regional India to the city - a migration pathway that many in the country have been forced to take and which is a direct result of land theft and resource extraction in the regions by local and multinational corporations as well as federal and state governments.

The truth is that so much in relation to state and societal control is enacted in painful and violent ways on the bodies of the marginalised and oppressed. And I often think about how the horror and action genres are some of the best suited to speak about systemic injustice because of their capacity to make that violence uncompromisingly visible (one recent example is Mike Flanagan’s Midnight Mass which depicted the bloody fallout of the Christian missionary/colonial project in vivid crimson, splashed all over a non-descript maritime town in present-day America). The violence in Monkey Man is no different.

While Kid's realisation of the interconnectedness and heavy hand of the state not just in the violence experienced by his mother, but also by the hijra, and by sex workers like Sita comes later in the movie, we as the audience are given this insight earlier. Recall Kid pointing out to Sita that her tattoo is of a koel, not a sparrow as originally misidentified by the Australian client sexually assaulting her minutes earlier in the film.

Kid goes on to say that he grew up in the forest and woke up to koels singing everyday. Its the longest conversation that the two have but in those brief words, we understand that Sita too has likely been displaced to the city from the regions, probably under very similar circumstances to Kid. The way this displacement maps itself onto her body is distinctive to how it does so for Kid, with gender playing a large role in this.

Other factors like caste, class and religion also impact on how the characters in this film experience or perpetrate violence. I would write more on these intersections but then this post is going to get more unwieldy than it already is.

I will say though, that in India, where fascist Hindu nationalism is being used by government to harm minority communities, steal land and secure populist votes, Patel makes a distinction between revelatory and weaponised faith. Kid is raised in peace by his mother with the former, but as an adult he lives in a world where the latter has taken hold and is being used by those in power to shore up more of that power for themselves.

For me - as the descendant of parents, grandparents and great grandparents who lived through anti-Tamil pogroms led by Sinhalese chauvinists weaponising Buddhism as part of their fascism in Sri Lanka, who like the rest of us, is living in an election year for Hindu nationalist Prime Minister Narendra Modi in India, and who is also frustratingly, helplessly bearing witness as the state of Israel and it’s allies conflate Zionism with Judaism in defence of the genocide being waged against Palestinians - watching this action film make the distinction between revelatory and weaponised faith was profound.

Love

Patel makes it a point in this film to show how Kid's most nourishing relationships, the ones that sustain him - indeed the ones that literally save his life - are those that he has with women and with people who don’t conform to the gender binary. In doing this, we see what Kid is fighting tooth (quite literally) and nail for throughout the film. We see what is at stake - what we stand to lose - if perpetrators get to rule without accountability.

Its also no mistake that these relationships are all tied visually to the natural world in the film: Kid's mother's deep ties to the earth, rivers, trees and roots that she leads him through as a child. Alpha and the hijra's sanctuary, the Ardhanareeshvara temple with its most sacred space being the roots of a holy tree. Sita and her koel tattoo: the memory of the forest carried on her skin while she traverses the brutal reality of the city. Patel is making a point here too. About nourishment of another kind, through our connection with the earth instead of extraction from it. The visuals in the film drive this point home, particularly when contrasted with the industrialisation and poverty of the city.

Two particular loving relationships that stood out for me were the love shared between Kid and the hijra community as well as between him and his mother.

Alpha, hijra Elder and the hijra community

Keeper of the Ardhanareeshvara Temple and hijra Elder, Alpha becomes a mother-figure to Kid after he is rescued with near-fatal injuries. It is Alpha who keeps watch over him as he recovers, helps Kid to confront the totality of his past memories which his trauma has kept fragmented, and who ultimately leads a veritable hijra army to join forces with him to assassinate some fascists.

Alpha's gentleness with Kid was so moving to see, in particular during the conversation they have about his attempt as a child to save his mother from the fire set by her rapist and murderer. That exchange moved me to tears.

Kid: I failed her.

Alpha: No. You tried to save her. You see scars. I see the courage of a child fighting to save his mother.

The wider hijra community at the temple also take Kid in and care for him during his recovery. Truly, the scenes at the temple were some of my favourite in Monkey Man. Outside of his memories of his mother, they are the only scenes where we see love, peace and joy on the faces of any of the characters in this film.

Also witness this moment of delight below as the hijra at the temple appreciate a fine ass man channelling his righteous anger and fucking up a punching bag full of rice. I note that the music during this training montage is simply stunning. Ustad Zakir Hussain's rapid fire tablas punctuated by each of Patel's landed punches and kicks and then followed by Jed Kurzel's achingly soaring instrumentals (listen to "The Kid" from the movie's score) were just *chef’s kiss*.

Another favourite moment for me was when Kid decides to go back to the underground fight ring one last time and not throw his matches (as he had been doing prior). He bets on himself and when he inevitably wins his fights, he takes the money and gives it to the hijra, ensuring that they can continue to live at the temple without fear of being evicted. We love to see a man who literally pays his rent.

Neela, his mother

Kid’s first teacher and the center of his life as a child. In almost every memory we are shown of her, Kid remembers his mother walking through a forest, sharing her ecological and religious knowledge with him and in doing so, positioning him within the wider world.

GIF by dailyflicks

We watch as he takes this understanding with him forward through the remainder of the film. His conversation as an adult with Alphonso as they drive through the city in the latter's tuk tuk is emblematic of this. "They don't even see us", Kid says of the elite who frequent the club where he has just gained employment, "they're all up there living and we are stuck in this."

His mother showed him what it was to live: to be still and in concert with the world and the Divine around you, to be loved fiercely, and to thrive as a result. This is in stark contrast to what Kid has had to learn to do in the city: to survive, to merely exist. He is never depicted resting or at home as an adult. He's always working, hustling and planning for the next thing, his next step. When he loses his village, his land and his mother as a child, Kid also inevitably loses his sense of home. It’s no coincidence that the tracks “Home” and “Mother” on the movie’s score sound almost identical.

Later at the end of the film, we see Kid close his eyes, having done what he set out to do. The last thing he sees is his mother, smiling at him in the forest. Her face is the face of God he gazes at before he succumbs to his injuries. This devotion to his mother is not just that of a child to a parent. Its also deeply tied to his Hindu faith which calls on its followers to honour the Divine Mother, the supreme feminine energy, Aathi Parashakthi, in all her manifestations including in those who mother us.

The movie ends with Kid’s deep, revelatory faith - instilled in him by his mother - and with the death of the man who weaponised that faith for power and wealth. It left all of us in the cinema seated in stunned silence even as the credits began to roll.

To describe Monkey Man as simply a revenge film does it an absolute disservice. This is not revenge. It is defence borne out of deep love for community and righteous opposition to injustice. Seeing hijra warriors dressed as Kali, the goddess of destruction, dealing death blows against fascists while spinning in the most beautiful lenghas was exhilarating (I literally screamed “YESSSSSSS!” at the screen when they arrived). Seeing Sita take out pimp and sex trafficker Queenie got me cackling and yelling “whoooop!”. Seeing Kid, a masculine character act to defend women and people outside of the gender binary, from further systemic harm without any ulterior motive was absolutely unreal to witness on the big screen. Seeing a person of faith act in deep connection to that faith without judgment against anyone but those who perpetrate harm made me feel hopeful in a way that took me by surprise. Kid acted out of love and respect. I would argue that Sita, the hijra and Kid all acted out of recognition of a shared humanity.

And at a time when folks from marginalised communities are being subjected to horrendous violence worldwide, both interpersonal and systemic, watching the oppressed take their perpetrators out…and I mean out (see: a rapist and murderer getting bludgeoned to death with a glittery high heel and a fascist, self-proclaimed “holy man” being stabbed in his third eye by the blade he hid in his own “sacred” pathankal/paduka), well, it was cathartic to see.

Am I saying violence is the answer to systemic violence? I think the answer to that question is context-specific. Non-violent resistance has a place, but it’s by necessity a performance and requires an audience. What do you do when no one’s watching? What do you do when the people who are watching are doing nothing to stop your suffering? What then? These questions are what many liberals refuse to grapple with because the answers are too uncomfortable for their polite sensibilities. But if you keep your foot on someone's neck long enough, you should expect them to fight back, by any means necessary. In Monkey Man, we have an action film where we get to witness that resistance in all its visceral glory.

[quinloki]

period sex and aftercare and /BUGGY/ are so big brained can i ask for those two plus dacryphilia with buggy and croco-baby and maybe a secret third character (your choice) if you feel up to it!!! Thank yooouuu!!! :o)

Alright, I got ONE MORE KINK ASK after this and I'll be all done with them \o/ Holy shit I can't believe how many asks I got for this (And how much fun I've had dealing with them.)

It helps a lot that I love kinks, kinky people, one piece characters, and learning/educating >.>

Alright we got Period Sex, Aftercare, Dacryphilia (the crying kink) - For Buggy and Sir Crocodile - and since you called him Croco-baby I'll add Donquixote Doflamingo to this.

I am surprised with as often as I feel like I've seen the crying kink pop up that I haven't already done it for ANY of these guy =O

And also yay \o/ AFTERCARE ASK \lol/

Go go alphabetical!

Buggy:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - It's messy, it's red, it's kind of flashy actually, and Buggy loves it. You don't grow up on the most famous pirate ship in the world without being comfortable with all sorts of things. I feel like everyone under Roger's flag was, we'll say educated, and as such I can't see anyone from that crew being put off by menstruation.

Plus, orgasms are a cure for some, and there's one way to find out if it works for you to alleviate any cramping you may be feeling. You're going to be a complete mess by the time it's done though, Buggy's a little blood-lusty, surprisingly maybe, but he gets feral, and more so than with lipstick or makeup, he loves to "mark" you.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - He is a terribly stressed clown, but I also think he's a big damned softie too. Buggy really is just as comfortable brushing your hair as he is ordering the crew around. Maybe more so, honestly. All that hair he has though, and that makeup he wears, the man's skin and hair care routines are on point as much as his eyeliner game. He will take care of you after every session, even if he subbing or bottoming some of it.

I think Buggy's desire to serve is almost as strong as Sanji's honestly. If you're an important person to him, he doesn't want to let you down, and he will devour your praises. But he's also The Captain™, and no matter what his role was, he's going to provide you proper aftercare.

Dacryphilia - No. - Sure sometimes tears happen. Sometimes you're so overwhelmed they slip out, sometimes you are chocking on the impressive package this man has. Sometimes tears happen, but Buggy doesn't like tears. He doesn't want to see you cry. If your makeup smears he wants it to be cause of sweat and pleasure and touch, not because you're crying. He's not even good at handling happy tears, let alone any other kind.

Buggy's more of let-him-do-the-crying-for-both-of-you type. He'd happily be the only one stressed to the ends of his capacity, than to have you worry. (Which probably worries you xD it's a bit of a cycle like that).

Sir Crocodile:

Period Sex - Yes - He doesn't mind the mess. The cause doesn't bother him. The only reason it doesn't rate higher is because it's hard to know if your period will heighten your pleasure or your pain - that lack of control bothers him, no matter how well or fast he can adjust accordingly.

He also doesn't see it as marking you the same way some others do. It's your blood, not his. It has a scent that isn't his or his cigars. If anything it's an annoyance because you should smell like him, and you shouldn't ever be hurt enough to smell like blood. You shouldn't be close enough to violence to even know what blood smells like, at least as far as he's concerned. But he'll soothe your cramps and discomfort in any way he can when it's that time.

Aftercare - Oh god you don't even know - As said before, Crocodile is all about control, and aftercare is required for control. You don't want to leave your little bottom/sub spiraling with all sorts of thoughts on their own. Whether we're talking toxic AU or not. Aside from the control though, he enjoys it. It's time to bond, to discuss, to connect. The more he knows about you the more control he can exert.

The more control you can hand over.

Plus, as beautiful as you are in his clutches, you're just as beautiful in his care.

Dacryphilia - FUCK Yes - Oh please cry for him. Sob in terror or pleasure or pain, he's not picky. Your face in tears is as lovely as your face contorted in pleasure. The only requirement is that those tears are his fault. No one else is allowed to make you cry.

As much as he will pull tears from you - and most sobs of pleasure as long as you're good - he'll kiss them away so sweetly. Brushing them aside so kindly, and with such praise.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Period Sex - FUCK Yes - Not only is it a mess, it's a bloody mess. Doffy's a bit twisted and I can see him actually smearing the mess all over you while he's taking a break between railing you. He's not doing it so much to mark you, as he is to almost degrade you. He'll tell you how dirty you are, covered in blood and cum and tears - he 100% gets into degrading you during it.

Sometimes being on your period can make you more sensitive to pleasure, and sometimes it makes you more sensitive to pain - it doesn't matter as far as he's concerned. He'll get his pleasure at the least, and he'll enjoy turning you into a mess in the meantime.

Aftercare - Yes - Unless he's truly into you, don't take this as some kind of kindness. Aftercare is a good time to learn and bond, and for Doffy that generally means it's a great time to reinforce all his manipulations. It lets you think he cares (again, *maybe* he does), and pulls you closer into his grasp.

A truly skilled puppeteer doesn't necessarily hide the strings, he just makes sure you don't pay attention to them when you should be >.>

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don't even know - Cry for him, please. Crumble to pieces in pleasure, fear or pain - whatever it may be that you've earned at the point in time. If you're overwhelmed in pleasure he'll promise you such sweetness and devotion. If you're overwhelmed with fear he'll admonish you softly and forgive you magnanimously. If pain stains your face he'll have you begging for forgiveness, a forgiveness he'll bestow on you when he feels like it.

Perhaps after you've gone raw and hoarse from tears and begging.

Much like others who enjoy making their partners cry, it is a pleasure reserved entirely for him and no one else. Members of his immediate family may get an understanding pass, circumstances depending, but anyone beyond that is likely to be dealt with swiftly.

[sl33paholics]

Hello, You really surprised me with how detailed you wrote about this fandom. This is something really wow.You are the third person I found on this Tumblr. If requests are still open, can I request about Jotaro, Polnareff and Josuke With a fem s/o reader who is very sexy but innocent and cute (like Bimbo) only she doesn't realize that many people like her. Please~ a little bit nsfw maybe ( It's up to you )

Love love from me to you

Keep Your Eyes In A Different Direction

The JoJos x bimbo!fem!reader

Characters include: Jotaro (p3), Polnareff (p3), and Josuke (p4)

Warning(s): slight nsfw (mentions of female body partz)

Josuke Higashikata

Sometimes, Josuke wonders how he ever bagged you.

I mean, look at you! Such a beautiful body, such a perfect ass. And those cheekbones…as if you were birthed to be the next top super-model in history. Those legs, though, are probably the most sinful things he's ever seen. And your skin…whenever touching it, it's smooth like silk.

It's difficult. It's difficult for Josuke to control the looming perverted eyes of his fellow male classmates at school and those drunk old-heads whenever you two are hanging out after school. It's hard not to think about what would happen if he could get you alone somewhere and take off all that gorgeous clothing. If he could lick the gloss from your lips and feel the softness of your skin beneath him. If he could kiss every inch of your body and feel every one of yours shudder with pleasure under his hands.

Josuke knows you have a reputation at school, just like him, so many admirers wanting to be your boyfriend or some other crazy shit like that. You're popular, and that makes you even more desirable. Even more of an object of desire. And yet, they couldn't. They boys know you two are together. A couple. Officially. But still, they can never bring themselves to do anything but stare at you while you walk across campus.

You're such a fucking tease. How dare you smile at every boy who looks at you in such a way? How could you possibly engage in conversation with boys whose obviously making moves on you and mistake it for a friendly interaction, only for Josuke to grab you by the wrist and pull you away. The worst part is that you don't see anything wrong with what the boys are constantly gawking and staring at you like a zoo animal, if he had the balls to do it, he would make-out in front of them to get his message across.

Although you may be a bit on the ditzy side, he still adores you. Josuke would do literally anything for you. Anything at all. Including getting caught up in some dumbass drama with the guys at school, trying to prove they won't get their hands on you, just so Josuke can get your attention.

Jotaro Kujo

You're his EVERYTHING.

After that long journey from Egypt, the man became a whole new person. As if he wasn't already before after being released from jail.

He needs your undivided attention all the time. Jotaro would never show any weakness in front of you or anybody for that matter, but for him to just squeeze you in an embrace when nobody was looking is something very intimate. Jotaro's just not like that with everyone else who can't handle your touch, but with you, he has nothing to hide. And it is so precious to see him open up, tell you everything about himself and everything. It's as if he's been holding it back since the start.

Jotaro wants to squeeze your big ole thighs every time he hugs you. He wants to bury his face in your neck and sighs happily into it. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek lovingly while his other arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer. Jotaro looks at you with a gaze as soft as the clouds. Hence, when returning to school, Jotaro has been more snappy than ever. Don't get it twisted. No one has DARED to ever approach you once it became known to everyone in the building that you and Jotaro were dating before sudden unfortunate events that had him away for days. He noticed that the boys suddenly got an ego boost. Everyone just assumed that the two of you "broke up" now those simps were getting all lovey dovey towards you.

Instead of telling them off, Jotaro was dumbfounded and reasonably upset when you would engage back with the boys with a teasing tone, a tone that you probably didn't know that was feeding into their egos. All it took for Jotaro was to stand behind you and look down at those boys with murderous intent before they would run off, scuttling like frightened rats.

Jotaro isn't too fond of showing PDA but he would definitely squeeze your ass to get how he's feeling about you to anyone point blank clear as day, and to remind you of your place when it comes to him.

It's no secret that Jotaro has a hard time expressing himself. With someone like yourself, you can easily understand that. You both have different personalities, so you might find yourself constantly struggling to make sense of what Jotaro wants. Jotaro's a complex guy, but he loves you anyway. Someone as pure and gorgeous like yourself, he's always going to protect you like his life depends on it.

Jean Pierre-Polnareff

The connection between you two is strong.

Considering the traumatic 50 day trip he had to endure, getting revenge on his sister, and being able to survive, you were like a new breath of fresh air that man even needed.

Both of you are romantic. Sexy. Outstandingly outgoing. As if it was fate that pulled you two together for you guys to meet in his home-country and begin a new relationship.

However, Jean noticed how much in the country of love, you weren't safe. No, there were just too many...unhinged men gawking at you whenever you guys went out. You would always enage back, because why not? You wouldn't want to look rude when someone is talking to you.

This irked Jean too much. Is this what it felt like to be jealous? To have people constantly hit on you? To ignore the fact that your partner is literally RIGHT THERE and still had the nerve to talk crazy? Oh, his poor heart and soul didn't like this venom feeling. Always expect Jean to make a whole scene just to embarass the guy and show him how annoying he really is and disturbing your evening with your precious boyfriend. He'd be talking about it all the way until the two of you get home.

Being intimate behind closed doors or in public doesn't concern this bubbly French man one bit! Jean loves to show you off to anyone and everyone in his presence, but he's very proud that he is the only person who gets to see you as you truly are: a caring, compassionate, beautiful woman. And yes, he'll do that again and again, just for the sake of showing that he loves you.

From the way he'll dress you up all nicely just to slowly and gently ruin you. How you can never tell what is going on in Jean's mind and how hard he works in every aspect of life just to prove to you that he will never treat you badly. That everything will turn out alright, because he is yours forever.

And those kisses that he's so desperate to give, Jean keeps asking you to give him so that he could feel better. Like they're some sort of therapy for his soul or something. The way the two of you would kiss for hours, with nothing else in between. How long it took for you both to calm down from the intensity of the passion and how his lips would always be covered in a layer of lipstick. It was adorable how embarrassed you are by these things. But also very sexy the way both of your stomachs would flutter with butterflies no matter how long the relationship lasted.

[dawneternal]

The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Seven

☁︎ Notes: okay I mention Aya's powers a lot in this chapter. Bear with me, there's explanation coming soon! The plot picks up a lot after this one. 👀

I tried to stay true to the order of events in ACOWAR but it was melting my brain a little bit so if you see something wrong no you didn't

Aya's Dress

☁︎ Warnings: Angst, female character is called a slut, canon fighting and violence

☁︎ Word Count: 4k

☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist

☁︎ Taglist: @cauldronblssd @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove @landofpetrichor @secret-third-thing @bookwormysblog @mal-adaptive-dreams

The sky was an annoying shade of blue today. Its cheerfulness was obnoxious and mocking. If the sky would not respect her dismal mood, it could at least have the respect to be a little more solemn with the threat of war hanging over Prythian.

Aya sat at her desk in the classroom, staring out the arched window with her chin resting on her palm. Her other hand was curled into a fist, knuckles tapping on the table top. She was vaguely aware of a voice drifting in her direction and it took her a moment to untangle her thoughts from her grudge at the sky. 

"Did you say something?" She turned toward her instructor, hoping her tone didn't hold any of her grumpiness. 

"I said I have another job for you," Helene answered from behind her desk, her eyes glittering with amusement, "Set up for a visiting lecturer. Pays 40 marks."

Aya nodded, her gaze turning toward the window again. 

"What's got you in such a mood?" Helene asked, swallowing her chuckle. 

Everyone else avoided Aya in this state. Her temper was not easily provoked, but the consequences of it were weighty enough to make most steer clear. Helene, however, had never been scared of Aya. Not of her power, her temper, or the fact that her cousin was High Lord. 

"Thesan will not let me attend the High Lord's meeting," Aya grumbled, brows drawn together in a deep scowl. 

"What on earth would you want to do that for?" Helene scoffed, "You hate politics."

That was something Aya was having a hard time answering for herself. She didn't know exactly why, only that the unfairness of it burned in her chest like she was a child left out of something fun. It unraveled a restless feeling that she thought she had stitched down a long time ago. She knew that if she wanted to, she could dig deep and find the words to explain what she was feeling, but she was not ready.

"It's the principle of it," She said, "Zoren gets to go."

"There's nothing of interest for you there," Helene soothed. 

"It's just such a rare opportunity," Aya sighed. 

That much was true. What she did not tell her teacher, or anyone, was that she planning to do something incredibly stupid, because it was the only thing that would quell the rising beast. She was going to break her own vow not to snoop or sleuth, and she was going to take a page from the Autumn Court’s book to get what she wanted. 

"At least you can still mingle," Helene said, "You could buy a new dress for the parties."

The rest of the students began to file in, the bell chiming in the distance to signal the beginning of class. Helene had managed to find probably the only silver lining of the situation. The prospect of a new dress managed to cheer Aya up just enough to stop glowering at the undeserving sky. 

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Aya stood in front of her mirror, pale light illuminating her wide eyes and parted lips. She barely recognized her reflection, bundled in a wool shawl, thermos tucked under her arm. She asked herself once more if she was really going to do this. And something stubborn snapped in her chest and she knew that the disappointment of not doing it would be unbearable. 

But as she squared her shoulders and wiped that cowardice from her expression, another question drifted into her mind. What was she doing this for? Aya watched her face fall again in the mirror, something solemn and pensive taking over. She still did not have an answer. Maybe by the end of the day, she would know.

Outside, Aya was surrounded by a blend of lovely pastel colors, a classic Dawn Court sunrise. As if the sky knew of the impending meeting and sought to showcase all of the beauty the court had to offer. The morning air was chilly and sweet-smelling, caressing her skin with a soft touch as she flew to the hiding place she had scouted. 

In between carved sunstone ornaments and billows of ivy and flowers, there was a blind spot in the eaves where no one would see her. It was just inside the wards Thesan had set up, but she stepped through them easily. Closing her eyes, the layers of wards appeared as closed gateways, each one faintly humming and glowing a different color. She had never tried to pick apart other wards before, but she had always been able to dismantle Thesan's easily. She had never told him that fact.

Guilt spread through her body with every beat of her hammering heart as she caught sight of Thesan and Zoren waiting in the meeting room. Thesan had not exactly forbid her from attending, but then again he had never had to use such harsh wording with her. He would probably never think to check the eaves for a spying Aya. 

Zoren might, however. He was not as biased in his view of her, seeing her from an angle that her cousin could not. He saw her cunning and zealousness plainly. But neither one of them looked up. Their soft, lovesick laughter echoed gently through the tower as they leaned into the other and shared their secrets. An ache spread in Aya's chest at the sight of it. 

The lovers quickly straightened as Kallias made his arrival. The air around him was hazy with frost, his almost-white hair and skin stark against the warmth of the golden sunstone. Thesan rose to his full height as he stood, his unassuming power wrapping around him like a shield. Aya could see the personal wards around each figure, faintly humming and each glowing a different color. Vivian's lovely laughter filled the room as she joked with the rest of the group. 

Each High Lord had loosened their glamor, for reasons both arrogant and practical, and each arrived in a wave of grandeur, the essence of their court filling the air like perfume. It was a dizzying experience to behold it all in one place, the earthy smell of spring, the frost of winter dancing through the air. At certain angles, Helion was almost painful to look at, like he reflected the entire sun. Staring at Tarquin for too long made the room start to sway, as if the space around him moved like the ocean. 

As for the High Lord and Lady of Night, Prythian may have plenty of opinions, but it could not be said that their entrance was not impressive. Their powers seemed to dance together in a way that others did not, like Feyre's magic had been elevated with her status. Or it was simply their mating bond, as visible as their matching tattoos. The air around Rhysand rippled with darkness, and Feyre beside him was the glimmer of starlight. Both held equal measures of bite and beauty.

Aya had a personal policy of not believing rumors, one she shared with Thesan. In part because nearly every High Fae was robed in legends, myths, and lies. And in part because the truth always proved to be worth pursuing. And in turn, it never proved to be beneficial to believe in rumors about women that were started by men. She guessed that this was the main reason for Thesan's attendance. He wished to begin untangling truths and lies. 

She knew it was true as she watched him, sitting quietly and listening with intense focus, his eyes darting back and forth as he pulled the threads apart in his mind. He had no idea how much her powers could have helped. 

Watching her cousin's gaze flit back and forth around the table, paying attention to what he paid attention to, Aya listened to the High Lords’ examination of Rhysand's character. Given the events of Under the Mountain, it did not seem unfounded. Especially because they could not see what Aya saw. The High Lord had his fair share of dark threads weaving through his being, ego and temptation like clouds that sometimes drifted over the moon. But despite those things, despite the blood on his hands and the red in his ledger, he wanted to be good. 

The Autumn Court’s late arrival interrupted the interrogation. They walked in a formation, Edana tucked into Beron’s side looking regal and lovely, despite the fact that she had shrunk herself into the shadow of her husband. All fire and cunning gone from her eyes. The entourage glittered in fabrics of deep green and plum, gold trim catching the sunlight. 

Beron had relaxed his glamor like the other High Lords, but Aya noticed that Eris had not. Even so, he was easily the most beautiful of the group, borrowing so many features from his mother. Something he had in common with Lucien. His strong jawline and thick eyebrows contrasted with soft eyes and full lips. A lean and well-built body, covered in countless scars that hid underneath the velvet of his suit. The sunshine followed him, glowing with an extra warmth in every place it touched his skin, threatening to erupt into flames. Eris kept a leash on his power so he would not overshadow his father. 

With Eris present, Aya became so acutely aware of herself that she was certain she would be noticed, that someone’s gaze would drift just a bit too far upwards and she would be caught. But all attention was stuck on the other three brutish brothers, staring down each attendee like wolves circling their prey. Eris hissed a command and they backed off, ending their show of power. Aya could not tell which brother was the one she had healed in Eris’s room, but none of them looked like they would like to express their gratitude if they knew.

As the meeting continued and more voices joined the din, it grew difficult to catch every word. The roaring wind swept away half of the conversation, other bits drowned out by the chattering birds. Aya could piece it together with context and a few of her secret talents, but when Tamlin began throwing his tantrum and hurling insults, she let the words remain lost. Beron and Helion seemed to enjoy the discourse, but Aya did not care to listen to it. 

Aya did not know when the conflict between Tamlin and the High Lady had dissolved and the tension between Eris and the Night Court began. She watched each tense face carefully, straining to hear what the Autumn Heir was saying.  

“....like a slut.” Were the only words she caught.

The last word reverberated through the room, and time seemed to move slower as Aya watched the Morrigan’s face contort in pain and anger. It was not even a full second between the insult leaving Eris’s lips and the shadowsinger pouncing. Azriel slammed into Eris, pushing him to the floor and enveloping the pair in a bubble of cobalt magic. Aya pressed a hand over her mouth, heart racing as she watched them grapple. Her wings threatened to spread but she pulled them in even tighter, so tight that her back cramped with the effort. Eris was not fighting back, only fighting to get free. He did not try to move out of the way of Azriel’s fist.

Several called out for the fight to stop, but it was the High Lady’s voice, low and calm, that made the shadowsinger pause. Aya watched, her breathing ragged, as Azriel knelt and whispered something into Eris’s ear, and then stood. She turned her gaze over to Edana, gripping the arms of her chair with white knuckles, still unmoving. Eris stood, murmured an apology, and smoothed his jacket. 

The meeting moved on quickly, but Aya could not stop hearing Eris’s voice echoing through the tower. She almost wished she had not heard it, that the whole scene had been swept away by that persistent wind and then he would be the same Eris as before. She had heard a vague version of the

 events between him and the Morrigan. She had never really thought much about it. Every person sitting at that table had done terrible things for good reasons. And everything Eris did was calculated, he would not have said such a thing without a reason. Or would he? The Eris she had built in her mind was crumbling, growing fuzzy at the edges as she realized that she might not know him at all. 

She held the secrets of his scars, had collected handfuls of late night meetings, but that could very well mean nothing in the grand scheme of knowing Eris. There was a chance he was just like the rest of them. Cold, jaded, cruel. And there was a chance that up here, on the outside of everything important, she would never get close enough to find out. 

The uneasiness under her skin heated to a simmer as she watched Nuan enter and present her antidote. Nuan, beautiful and smart and clever. It was a childish thing that should have faded a long time ago, but Aya could not rid herself of the jealousy. There may be plenty of room at Thesan’s table for his found family, but some days when her mind grew cloudy, she wondered if she had a place there at all. 

That mood continued to roll in like a thick fog, and she laid down on the sunstone, pressing her cheek to the cool, sleek surface. Pulling the wool shawl tighter around herself, she continued to half-listen to things she only half-understood.

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Just as Aya had begun to grow bored, the tension began to rise again. A long string of scathing insults poured from Beron’s mouth, filling the air with burning heat. He spat each one with more disdain than the last, not once heeding the High Lady’s warnings. He should not have been surprised when Feyre exploded. A wave of brilliant fire pushed through Beron’s wards and managed to singe him. The vibrant flames caught Edana’s sleeve, and Aya stiffened, a choked sound leaving her throat. 

Beron gathered himself and his wards, but Feyre did not relent, sending waves of water next. Aya dared to glance at Eris and saw his eyes gleaming with wicked hope as his father struggled. The others gaped at the reveal of Feyre's powers. Rhysand persuaded her to stop, managing a few jabs towards the Autumn Court as he did so, and the damage was done. None of the High Lords were particularly happy about their supposedly stolen kernels of power, even Thesan. Aya thought to herself that they didn't seem to mind so much when Feyre was the Cursebreaker and freed them all.

Beron was furious at all of it, declaring the meeting over as if he had the power to do so. His loyal entourage stood, following his every move, save for Eris.

The High Lady’s sister rose from her seat and spoke before they could leave. She had the whole room within her grip, something terrifying and ethereal in her eyes and voice. But Beron only muttered his dismissal and winnowed. A chorus of snaps filled the silence as the rest of his group followed.

Eris lingered just a moment longer, his gaze flickering upwards and finding Aya in the eaves. Almost imperceptibly, he tilted his head toward the door.

Aya's heart leapt into her throat and she forced herself to move slowly and quietly as she backed out of her hiding spot. Careful not to rustle the ivy, she crossed back through the wards and scrambled down the levels of pillars and carvings. 

Eris had winnowed to the hall outside of the door, waiting with his hands clasped behind his back. Aya stood before him, her breathing heavy, eyes widening as she caught sight of the blooming bruises around his neck. His brows were knit together tightly, worry etched into the space between them. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice still that of the Autumn Heir. 

Aya opened her mouth to answer and found that she still had not thought of a good answer to that question. I wanted to see you, was on the tip of her tongue, but she would not let it loose.

“This is my court,” She stammered. Her mind felt slow, frosted over. His eyes searched hers and she was terrified he could somehow read what she refused to say.

“You shouldn’t be here,” He said, face softening into something more recognizable.

“Why not?” She whispered, swallowing hard.

“The other High Lords would not take kindly to finding a spy,” His voice was tight, “My father could have killed you on the spot.” 

He was right. She had not thought of that. That Thesan could not go easy on her if she was caught in front of everyone. Her gaze flickered away from his intense stare, landing on that necklace of purple fingerprints. She could not help but focus a spark of her power on them. Eris frowned as he watched her expression turn distant, and then his eyes widened. 

“Stop that,” He hissed, taking a step back. A hand flew to his neck, as if to keep the bruises from disappearing.

Aya flinched, her focus returning to his face. To his flushed cheeks and wild eyes.

“You can’t heal me,” He said, “My father would know.” 

Aya just shook her head. This was all wrong.

“I have to go,” Eris sighed, looking over his shoulder, “Just go home, please.” 

He was gone in an instant, the air crackling as he winnowed. Aya stood still, staring at the space where he had been, feeling like something of a liability.

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Aya smoothed the front of her dress, a slip of dusty pink silk with golden trim. She had picked something similar to the one Eris had seemed to like so much, with a low back and draping neckline. Her jewelry was all pearls and gold, bracelets clinking as she moved. She took one more deep breath and walked through the archway into the party. 

Soft Dawn Court music played through the circular room, every surface draped in lovely fabrics and pillows. Trays of food and flutes of champagne littered the tables, servers swirling through the crowd to refill and take away plates. There were groups playing cards, boisterous laughter over drinking games, dancing, and pairs flirting in candle lit alcoves. Colors of all the courts mixed together, a rainbow of merriment. 

Aya’s gaze swept through the mix of faces, searching for one peppered with freckles. She found him, sitting on a velvet couch with cards in his hand. And one of her classmates sat on the back of the couch, giggling down into his smirking face, her fingertips grazing his neck as she made his bruises fade.

If Aya had thought she felt sick earlier, it was nothing compared to now. Dizziness overwhelmed her as she understood a dozen things at once. She was realizing how attached she had grown to him, how much she had wanted his compliments on her dress. She was realizing that, somewhere between the healing sessions, in the quiet and dim light of Eris’s room, she had begun to think of herself as his. 

His healer, his angel, his friend. 

Now, to think she had dreamt up that intimacy was too painful to bear. And it was Fleura healing him, the one who hated her most, never failing to toss Aya a look of disgust. She stood there frozen in the archway, gaze glued to him. To make matters worse, Fleura noticed her, flashing a look of mocking pity before she giggled behind her hand. Eris followed her gaze, locking eyes with Aya, and his smirk faded. 

The rest of the party disappeared. It was only Aya and Eris, staring at each other with miles of unsaid things between them.

“Are you coming or going?” A deep, smooth voice pulled Aya from that moment. 

She turned and looked into the face of the High Lord of Summer. The weight of Eris’s stare was heavy, but she willed herself to hold the gaze of the turquoise eyes looking down at her. 

“Oh, I haven’t decided yet,” She stammered, stepping aside when she realized she was blocking him in. 

Tarquin gave her a crooked smile, revealing perfect, shiny teeth. A bit of her angst melted under the pure sunshine that radiated from him. He smelled like sea salt and coconut and summer.

“I thought I might go,” The High Lord said, “But the most interesting people keep appearing in this archway. I think I'll stay.”

Aya’s cheeks burned as she returned his smile. He offered an arm to her and added, “Would you like to get a drink?” 

“Yes,” Aya breathed, taking his arm and trying to quiet her dizzy mind as he swept her away toward the bar. 

She decided to be a little wicked, letting her billowing skirt brush over the arm that Eris draped over the couch as she walked by. She did not turn to see if he was looking. To inspect for any sliver of jealousy on his face. Though it felt as though her heart was splitting as she looked back up at Tarquin and realized that as lovely of a color as blue was, she still liked amber better.

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Eris did not sleep well that night. 

He did not particularly care for the open, breezy rooms of Dawn, all stone and sheer fabrics. None of the cozy velvet and dark wood he was used to. There was also no fireplace, depriving him of the comforting crackle of fire as he slept. With everything that had happened, he should be tired enough that it didn’t matter. But he lay awake, trying and failing to catalog the events of the day. 

He would not forget the look on Aya’s face when she had spotted him sitting there with that giggling, air-headed healer. He should have just shoved the girl away, but it was like all of the fight had drained from him and for some gods-damned reason he had simply disguised his grimace with a smirk and hoped she left him alone soon.

The image haunted him, continuing to appear no matter how many times he shoved it away. Aya, standing in the archway, her wickedly lovely dress shimmering in the candle light, with the unmistakable look of someone who had been betrayed. He should have stood, should have rushed to her, should have confessed.

I came back for you. I've been waiting for you. 

But something about her never stopped causing him to act the opposite of how he wanted. So he sat there like an idiot while she was spun away and charmed by Tarquin. Young and powerful Tarquin, likely better suited for someone like her.

When he did sleep, he was plagued by a new nightmare. Cobalt blue slammed into him over and over, breaking something new every time. Those golden brown hands wrapped around his throat and pinned him down, that deep voice whispering in his ear and echoing again and again, 

“Your Sparrow in the eaves has a long way to fall.”

And then Eris would shift his gaze from the soulless brown eyes above him. Up and up into the eaves of the meeting room where Aya was hidden. Blue light would wrap around her ankle and pull hard, causing her to stumble and fall. The floor would begin to crumble and give way into blackness, and the blue light would bind her wings so she couldn't fly. He would be forced to watch as she fell into the inky abyss, screaming his name until her voice disappeared into nothing. 

Then he would wake. Calm his breathing and take a drink of water. Fall asleep, and dream it all again.

If he had known then that he would not see her again until the Battle of Hybern, he would have made very different choices, indeed.

[unordinary-diary]

Arlo’s Ability Potential

Arlo could actually be so fucking OP and I’m not kidding.

In my last entry, I mentioned that Arlo could do so much more with his ability: things ranging from very unlikely to happen in the story, to things that are foreshadowed enough that I genuinely think he’ll be getting a powerup soon.

I’m gonna start with the most reasonable stuff and then wander out into speculation.

First of all: Disks. Do y’all remember Lennon from episode 196-ish?

^ this fucker.

Currently, Arlo’s fighting style is to put up a strong barrier around himself, and watch his enemies hurt themselves with their own recoil damage. His only offensive technique is to put his enemy in a barrier and make it smaller. Now, this has changed in recent chapters, with him developing that softer kind of barrier that he hits people with like a shockwave, but ultimately, his offensive power isn’t very diverse.

However, Lennon up there^ uses his disks in many ways.

He throws them, they’re very sharp, he can use them to fly, and therefore attack from the air. Blyke had a LOT of trouble against this guy.

How is this relevant? Because Arlo can make these disks too.

When Sera, Leilah and Arlo are fighting Spectre agents under the dampener, Arlo conjures one of these disks as a substitute for his usual barrier.

Not only do we know that he can make these, we know that they are significantly easier for him to make and maintain. So, in theory, Arlo should be able to do all of the things Lennon can and more.

With him currently being able to make three regular barriers at once, how many disks could he make? And how many disks could he make while having a full barrier up? I imagine that the future holds lots of fights against large groups of people, so Arlo learning these techniques would be extremely convenient and very well-timed. Especially since being able to attack from the air is super effective against opponents who can’t fly (which is most of them let’s be real) since they usually can’t hit back.

But there’s more things that I think these disks can do.

Imagine him practicing with a ball—

Pick it up, bounce it up and down.

Add another disk, make it ping-pong.

but he could also just put the ball in a regular barrier and just... move it around. Move that sucker to a different location.

he could pick the ball up, carry it really high, then drop it.

Now imagine the ball is a person.

... yeah.

but there’s more that he could do.

say that someone is coming at him with enough strength to break his barrier

If aimed right, the opponent shouldn’t hit the third barrier head on, but rather at an angle. The angle should be enough to prevent the barrier breaking, but still cause significant recoil damage. In this particular scenario, the recoil damage will go straight to the head and neck, using all their force against them. Depending on how much force is coming at him, the third barrier could still break, but it isn’t his main line of defense at least. With practice, Arlo should be able to use disks to divert attacks, and control where his opponent aims. The only person this wouldn’t work against is probably Seraphina bc Arlo can’t react in time.

Another thing to consider is: how small can he make the disks? Could he make little shurikens? If so, would making them very small allow him to make more? Could he stand behind his full barrier, while sending out a flurry of tiny chakrams? And if so, wouldn’t that be dope as fuck? Especially against a large crowd.

And since, in theory, he should be able to fly, he should also be able to make other people fly. Imagine all of them flying on top of a disk with Blyke and Isen loudly singing I Can Show You the World. I see zero reasons why this can’t happen.

Moving away from disks, Arlo should start filling his barrier with stuff. Now, we rarely see characters weaponizing things that aren’t abilities or their bare hands, but it does happen. This is where the idea of water balloons comes in. Fill that sucker in the sink, throw it, then pop it whenever he wants to.

But it’s not just water, he could put anything in there. He could put a shit ton of glitter. He could put sewing needles, caltrops, a big rock, anything. He could probably even put a barrier over his stove, gather steam, compress that shit and make smoke bombs!

But enough with that bitch baby shit.

What about chemicals?

Make water balloons but instead of water it’s hydroflouric acid. Or fill that shit with liquid nitrogen. Make smoke bombs but instead of steam it’s mustard gas— he and his friends will be protected inside a full barrier. There is any number of chemical weapons he could use, and some gases could even be made at home by mixing the wrong cleaning materials.

But what about insects? Go to the woods, find a beehive and yoink that shit.

The main problem with the “putting things in barriers” idea is that he’d have to prepare ahead of time, and keep those barriers up and his ability active until he uses them. That means it isn’t useful unless he knows the fight is gonna happen, and has enough time to prepare before it, but not so much time that he loses energy keeping them up. It’s also not useful if he wants to be non threatening at first, because his ability will need to be active. And also, unlike other weapons, A lot of these can’t be stored. He has to use all of them before the end of the fight— especially since gases can’t be released without using them. So, not very convenient or practical most of the time, but it would be super cool and effective in certain circumstances.

The next unlikely technique for Arlo to develop is vacuums. Arlo could make a really tiny, spherical barrier. Airtight. EXPAND that sucker. Make it real big- a near vacuum inside. Then make a tiny hole in it. Depending the size, that could create some insane suction. Suction is something so versatile that it could actually be a whole ability in its own right. That’s a whole ass mid tier added to Arlo’s already dope skill set. Possibly more.

Seriously, just think about suction for a second. You could bring anything close to you— Arlo actually has an easier method of telekinesis as we’ve gone over, but still— you could probably break and bend things with enough force, divert an attack by sucking it, or your opponent’s body in a different direction, you could cause some severe damage by sucking directly on someone’s skin. (I’m trying so fucking hard not to make a sex joke oh my god)

Here’s where Arlo’s capabilities get… gruesome.

My brother suggested that he could suck someone’s brain out through their skull. I was incredulous, but with enough force and with the tiny suction hole placed on an eye or nose, he definitely could.

But there’s an easier method of killing right there: put the vacuum over someone’s head. It doesn’t have to be an intense enough vacuum to explode their head (it could be though), just enough to suffocate them. Even without killing, suffocation could be used for intimidation or to knock them out.

But if we ARE killing… Arlo could put someone’s whole body in a vacuum and have the same effect as throwing them into space. They explode, their blood boils, it’s fuckin freaky what happens when a person depressurizes.

Even without a vacuum, (or any of these, really) it’s a good thing Arlo isn’t willing to kill because there are about a million ways he easily could.

The question that inspired the whole idea of a vacuum to begin with is: could Arlo make a barrier inside of someone, then expand it? The answer? Probably yes.

This gruesome shit is the reason I imagine Arlo at his full potential to be like… a villain au. Also because having an OP villain doesn’t have the same narrative pitfalls as an OP protagonist.

What’s Arlo’s range like? Could he expand his range with practice? How far out could he shoot a disk? Could he puncture the hull of an empire class battle ship leaving thousands to drown at sea? You know, because it’s so sharp?

Seriously though, could he take down airplanes?

Making barriers bigger or smaller doesn’t seem to affect his energy at all, considering that he never has to shrink it to save energy even when it would make sense (like with the dampener— Arlo just warned that he couldn’t keep it up, then took it down and switched straight to a disk even though there was plenty room to shrink it). So if the size of it doesn’t matter, then how big could he make it? Could he make Atlantis? Pick up a city and put it underwater with a barrier as an air dome? Could he make a dome around the earth and block meteors? Could he crush the core of the earth and blow up the planet if he wanted to??

Sadly, the answer to all of those questions is “probably not”.

Arlo is already super OP, they don’t call it a god tier for nothing. But he could be so much more godlike. I know I got really crazy at the end there, but back up just a little bit and he could realistically be a god among gods with just a little creativity. Especially at the top where the images are. Most of this stuff would not be hard.

[autumnslance]

Heya

I always like your analysis/view of characters and the Story so I would like to ask you something.

Yesterday I talked with a friend about how I kinda miss Lyse, and than I got the idea that she and Wuk Lamat would probably get along quite well.

Lyse wasn't prepared to step up on the role she has now while. Wuk Lamat is young and "lively" as Lyse, but she had a chance to grow and learn about her upcoming role as a leader of the nation during our journey with her. So I think these two would have some interesting conversations and might learn from another.

I hope, that in future patches, we get a meeting of all the Leaders interacting with another now that we have Thavnaier, Tuliyolal and Garlemald new to the table.

Do you have an opinion on this? Especially since your understanding of SB and it's characters is deeper than mine.

Oh heck you got me rambling about Lyse and Wuk Lamat, so this is going under a cut. Spoilers for Dawntrail 7.0 MSQ and everything leading to it.

I've seen a lot of comparisons between Lyse and Wuk Lamat, being young, energetic women whose stories involved a lot of growth into leaders. How they get there is different, and I do think the writers learned from how they framed Lyse's story, and how Wuk Lamat's needed to be different even if there are ways they are similar.

Lyse spent years hiding from herself and her grief, happy to let Papalymo be "in charge" for the most part (though I noted he deferred to her when it came to actually interacting with and understanding the Sylphs and Moogles, and probably other people in the Twelveswood, as "patient" and "personable" weren't exactly his best traits). Lyse was also the person who noticed things weren't quite right with Thancred in ARR, that he was working himself to the bone, but she didn't seem to know how to approach him about it, regretting it later when they realized he'd been possessed.

And in Stormblood, Lyse spends a lot of time trying to understand her countrymen's reticence, their fears, their lack of hope. She worked with Conrad's Resistance cell all through Heavensward, but it seems like the first time she really interacts closely with civilians is Ala Ghanna. In the Far East, Lyse spends time talking to the Domans, and the Mol--her scene with the children is a major one, determining what is "home" and what that means, why Hien (and Lyse) fight for a place.

She feels she isn't a leader, she's just one of the team, and as she gets pushed toward leadership, she feels it's based more on who her father and sister were, the weight of her family legacy. And part of that is that lingering grief, that literal imposter syndrome, that knowledge she isn't the woman Yda was.

Because of course she isn't. She's Lyse. Not an Archon, but a Scion of the Seventh Dawn. Probably still better educated than many, having grown up in Sharlayan, despite book smarts not being her forte. She's very good at punching things. And she has a heart and more optimism and stubbornness than most.

She grows into it, with the help of her friends (which she does, repeatedly, acknowledge the WoL as the hero who defeated Zenos and made it all possible, don't fall into the trap of memeified rewrites of the actual canon). She is only the leader of Conrad's cell (a failing of Stormblood and it's split storyline was talking about multiple cells, but only having us interact with 1 ever before it all became 1 military). And she happily lets Raubahn take command of the army when it forms, calling herself simply the commander of Rhalgr's Reach--but given her role in the war, as a former Scion, and her connections, still acts pretty much as Raubahn's Marshall in all but name.

Lyse was not raised for leadership, not raised to take command, and had to rise to the occasion. And without losing her determination, her caring, her optimism.

Wuk Lamat was born to rule; the Xbr'aal initially, but when circumstances put her life in danger, Gulool Ja Ja adopted her as his Third Promise. Wuk Lamat is a cheerful, optimistic, loving girl who wants to understand and learn about people. She's a "people's princess" we see almost from the instant we arrive in Tuluyollal, friends with nearly everyone. But it's also not hard to see, even in 6.55 and the adventures in Sharlayan, that she's young and green. She has few supporters, and no great deeds or expectations from most of the people. She struggles in the shadow of her older accomplished brothers, wondering a few times what her strength is, what she has gained from their father.

She has not been raised to rule, necessarily; while the Dawnservant has expectations for all his children, and recognizes all of their strengths, he also sees their weaknesses and where they lack. Some of that, perhaps, is on him as a parent, but he knows their potential and possibilities, if they seek the chance to grow and learn. He can only guide them, not do it all for them, if they are to reach those potentials.

And Wuk Lamat does seek, with a zest not seen since Lyse was central, and beyond her, even. Wuk Lamat is not bound by the grief of familial loss and the disconnect of diaspora; she was too young to remember the tragedy that led her to leave Yak T'el as a toddler, and her life since has been a kind and happy one. She's been educated and trained well.

But there are limits to what a girl can learn in a single city, with only one or two visits to other villages now and then. And Wuk Lamat, like Lyse, takes the time to try to learn and understand. She picks up faster than Koana the point of the contest--while Zoraal Ja ignores it entirely, and Bakool Ja Ja has other pressures he's dealing with.

There's another comparison; Lyse's determination to understand Fordola, to change her mind, making her a symbol of all the collaborators. Lyse's determination that all Ala Mhighans must be free and begin anew, to rebuild their society together. To acknowledge the pain but not let it bind them into cycles of violence (which continues in the Endwalker healer role quests, as Raganfrid and Arenvald take up the specific task of reintegrating the collaborators).

Wuk Lamat, meanwhile, struggles to understand the bandits of Kozama'uka, the Chirwagur Yok Huy of Urqopacha, and the Mamook of Yak T'el. She changes Bakool Ja Ja and earns his respect, by perhaps being the first person to demand to know what he wants--and then following through on the promise to find a way to make that wish happen. To find a way all Turali can be free and happy, including the Mamool Ja (who may have tried to kill her as a toddler).

Lyse spends all of Stormblood fighting to free her people from a decades-old foe, forcing her to become a leader. Wuk Lamat's fight comes after she has grown into the kind of leader that can defend Tuliyollal from the threat of Alexandria and Zoraal Ja's betrayal. And even though Sphene can't change her mind thanks to her programmed nature, Wuk Lamat never stops trying to reach the caring personality encoded within.

Because the other person Wuk Lamat compares to is the Assumed Default Warrior of Light. She's a determinator in a similar way; she doesn't easily give up or give in, despite her doubts and the difficulties along the way. She makes friends wherever she goes, forming bonds and connections that come back to help, time and again. She goes from novice adventurer to epic hero, as WoL had to do in ARR; the entirety of Dawntrail seems a compressed version of that story for her, with adventure and events happening in the first half, and then the other shoe drops. For WoL, it was the Waking Sands massacre. For her, the first assault on Tuliyollal. WoL didn't have the benefit of a mentor--with Louisoix long gone and most of the Scions captured--but WoL could be there for Lamaty'i.

How often has that been a fear and regret of the Scions and other friends? How happy they were with the warding scales letting them help with those burdens! How at the edge of existence, the only thing that kept the WoL walking to the end was the memories of their friends and the hopes they had, and in the final battle, the Scions were still with the WoL regardless of distance.

(And Zenos was there. Still the most hilarious entrance ever.)

We stand with Wuk Lamat to the end--and she breaks through to find WoL and Sphene, because Lamaty'i won't give up on her friends. And Sphene could have been, if she had still been alive.

Anyroad. I DO think Lyse and Wuk Lamat would have a lot to talk about, in how they grew to be leaders, in similarities and differences, in their relationship with the Scions and the WoL, about the adventures they've had. I loved seeing Vrtra and Azdaja in Tuliyollal, and that Koana formed a treaty with them, which may indeed mean more interaction with Thavnair in the future. For that matter, the Leveilleur twins' quest to help Garlemald rebuild and reintegrate with the global community may bring some familiar faces from there around...though from the Island Sanctuary quests, we also know those people have never taken vacations and don't know what do to outside of "survive" and "duty." But there's a lot to learn, and seeing how diverse people can live together in peace, after most of a century under Ascian propaganda, would be good for them. Sharlayan tends to have diplomatic relations with various foreign powers, and Tural's no exception, and the use of Labyrinthos research to aid Mamook could become more of a thing to bring some of those characters in for cameos (for that matter, helping the Alexandrians integrate, and studying that phenomenon, as if those scholars could resist!).

I'm a little wary of having all the leaders in a single space; generally that's a plot point reserved for some terrible world wide event or circumstance arising! But it would be nice to have the opportunity to visit with old friends on some kind of tour, to see Tuliyollal make other allies and diplomatic connections, and give such characters those chances to interact.

But if the game doesn't take those opportunities on screen (people often forget that a lot happens out of WoL's POV, too), we've always got fanfiction to make it happen in!

[sarahreesbrennan]

Hello! If IOL were to get adapted into a TV show (or film I suppose), what are some things you'd be excited for, or things you'd want revealed that we don't get from Elliot's POV?

(also fun fact: my name is Elliot too! It may or may not have been very helpful in getting me to read the book three years ago)

Hi Elliot! A fine name. :)

The silver screen by its nature allows us into more points of view - it’s why my TV tie-ins always had more and briefer PoVs than I usually write, to give the same effect as a moving camera. And In Other Lands is a very limited third by design, since we really have to feel Elliot’s feelings to be in it with him. So immediately a visual, more-on-the-surface medium would open the story up to more reveals - there’s a lot to be done with Serene and Luke, and (for my money) with Captain Woodsinger, Golden, Adara and Myra.

The question also arises what the director’s or showrunner’s vision is, because the showrunner would not be me. There are so many different ways to tell a tale.

If they’re going gritty child soldiers, there’s more to be done with the wars between the different peoples, with dryads and dwarves, and with Delia Winterchild and her lost twin. If they’re going, say, romcom like a fantasy Heartstopper, we’re probably putting Wings In the Morning and In Other Lands in a blender and starting with the characters 15 and up. If they’re doing children’s adventure a la (gayer, weirder) Percy Jackson, we might meet the key three waking up in their respective settings on the day they head off to the Border camp - Serene exiting in a rebellious huff after blazing row with her mother, Luke worried under the weight of loving expectation, Elliot totally clueless and friendless in another world - are these children going to meet? What will hap— Holy SHIT the redhead is being rude! But we’d get it, because we saw where he came from.

The mood of a story is often dictated by what information you parcel out when.

And TV throws curveballs. (Movies less often.) What if the Elliot and Adara actors had lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry? What if Luke and Dale did? I hardly dare imagine. But then again, if it was a She-Ra-style animated series, that would be far less likely. So it’s hard to say what I’d be excited for, as I wouldn’t know what to expect!

I’d be really excited if they did any kind of series, because that’s such a show of faith in my work. And it would mean more job security, and new covers, and more chances for me to get more readers and perhaps most important of all to write more in the In Other Lands world… which (more on this later) I would love to do.

A show is always a wild shot - I’d always try to think of the books as my first concern, as they might do something totally bonkers with an adaptation. (Me, if Luke and Serene fell in romantic love while Elliot died a cowardly weasel’s death: What Show? I Cannot Perceive the Moving Pictures, I Just Do Not Know.) Buuuut, if it ever did happen, I would love to see more of the interdynamics at the Border camp, stuff that flew totally over Elliot’s head. I’d love to have Golden introduced earlier. I’d love to have the harpies in sooner, but as a sinister presence until the big reveal. And of course, channeling my inner Elliot, I’d love to see the mermaids. Throw the whole budget at mermaids!

Thanks for asking, and dreaming with me. 💜

[thepersonperson]

omg i'm so excited to find your blog!

its genuinely hard to find someone out here in the wasteland of jjk fandom who reads the manga and also doesn't discard the queercodedness of the characters and the interpersonal relationships between them!!

I'm curious if you have any ideas on how this all might end? Gege keeps saying the manga will end by the end of 2024 but it feels like there's so many things to be addressed.

I personally think it might end in either two options: cursed energy ceases to exist altogether (all sorcerers die and humanity is left to fend of for its own curses it creates) or everyone becomes like Maki (no/minimal cursed energy but can fight curses- too optimistic). Knowing Gege there might be a secret third, forth or fifth thing as well :D

I also think Megumi will be saved for sure and he will activate the merger, but also I'm thinking there might be a small little moment something like happened between Gojo and Geto in Shibuya otherwise Yuta laying there useless is so much wasted potential.

Do you have theories?

The burden of proof for queer readings is really high because the default reactions to them are 1) you’re reading too much into it due to personal/shipping biases and 2) unless the creator is explicit, it’s unreasonable to assume they would include queerness on purpose.

So it’s not uncommon for those who would otherwise have these readings to overcorrect and minimize the queerness to show they aren’t biased in that way. I find that to be incredibly unfair to creators that have to be subtle because of the political landscape or laws limiting queer expression.

What makes me comfortable being so overt about queerness in Jujutsu Kaisen isn’t Gege’s personal interest in yaoi and inclusion of characters indisputably outside of the gender binary. It’s the fudging dudebros.

You have to understand. I grew up on an internet where dudebros loathed any ounce of queerness. They unilaterally hated gay ships. There’s also the entire existence of the trap meme and slur used to erase the identities of characters that are trans or genderless.

But with Jujutsu Kaisen? Even notoriously homophobic Black Twitter is posting things like this.

This is unheard of. Instead of denying the queerness in Gojo and Geto’s relationship they are arguing over who tops or bottoms. (Honestly I am fascinated by how much black people, myself included, love this series. I’ve never been in a fandom where black culture is the default for memes. Calling Sukuna The Unc? Famous music artists Usher and Megan Thee Stallion like doing cosplays. I should probably do a whole post on that.)

And it keeps happening. I keep seeing dudebros have takes that put all of tumblr degenerates to shame.

They fudging reinvented mpreg with canon compliant mechanics.

It's not just limited to Satosugu. Just look at this.

And when you look at these people’s profiles, they are straight men. Most of their timelines are powerscaling, sports, busty women, or hentai.

If the dudebros are acknowledging the queer subtext as a part of canon, it’s no longer reaching to interpret the text that way as far as I’m concerned.

For your other points…

I doubt the manga will end in 2024 because of all the unexpected health related breaks Gege has taken. That statement was made before these breaks and likely under the assumption things would meet a specific schedule.

I don’t really have theories for how the series will end. Every time I try to guess the direction of the plot it’s always wrong. The only predictions I can make with some accuracy are things with respect to character relationships and motivations. I sure hope to get more character interactions and less death though! (<The delusions of a foolish creature.)