#ships were both sides are aware of their desire & longing

[usurperss]

Sorry for being mentally ill now but what fucks me up about Kasseivor are the what ifs. What would have been if we weren't doomed by our fate to live a lonesome life, what if we risked it to give in to our feelings despite being aware of the tragedy looming upon us knowing there won't be a happy end for us in any kind of outcome

[partycatty]

so i made a post about revenant johnny and i’m totally aware you saw it so what about a smut fic with revenant johnny??

i’m not entirely sure how we’d get to that part and i’d like to think we aren’t a revenant. im not entirely sure what the plot would be but i really just need to get my back blown out by revenant johnny

love ya 💙💙

EAYRBAUHRJAJFLAMTLMSMF

revenant!older!johnny cage > join me

revenant johnny meets you after his turning. the carnal desire never vanished.

warnings: kinda angsty, not explicitly consented to, you get SLAMMED TO POUND TOWN AND BACK. NETHERREALM AND BACK. OUTWORLD AND B— oh also lore adjustment to mk9 and mk11 :3

[ masterlist ]

you didn't think recent events could get any weirder, truly. just five years prior you lost the love of your life to a corrupted sindel, and with the knowledge that his cursed corpse sauntered beside a sorcerer such as quan chi, you honestly felt like coming face to face with a younger version of yourself was the most normal thing to occur. your job as a leader of the special forces was to capture and eliminate all threats to earthrealm, including but not limited to your former husband.

now under the command of a previous timeline's raiden among others, you had built enough of an army to counterattack what you lovingly called the zombified versions of your once-friends, liu kang and kitana. kronika was a force beyond your understanding but you knew that losing all you'd come to build would be a loss greater than... well, no. it was everything you'd lose.

at the bow of kharon's ship, you stood with a loaded rifle alongside a band of people you'd grown to admire; jax, jacqui, cassie, raiden, liu kang, kitana, kung lao, fujin, nightwolf, and of course a younger version of johnny. he nudges your side, aiming his own rifle at the sky with a hand on his hip.

"i hope we don't die out there, i'd love to tap that someday," he coos into your direction, perhaps louder than intended and earning horrified looks from everyone - including your fatherless daughter. you stomp on johnny's foot. perhaps you would have fallen for his charms in the past, but dear god was he more punchable than ever in that moment. even still, you miss his quips and jabs. what you wouldn't give to see the color return to his cracked, hellish skin.

"it is an honor to fight alongside most of you," you call out, facing forward as your subtle dig at younger johnny makes him frown. "raiden says it better. may the elder gods protect us."

it's not long before the large boat scrapes against the shore of the island, and your entire army charges into battle. guns, swords, and fangs spill so much blood, you could smell more iron than when you were riding down the crimson sea. your thoughts are cut short when a path opens, and you shoot a glance to your comrades.

"i see an opening!" you shout, pointing. "i'm going in!" a chorus of encouragements and cheers fill your ears atop the war cries, and the one that stands out most is cassie. your daughter's voice raises, slipping into grief mid-battle.

"if you find dad," she cries, praying to the gods that she won't lose both parents. "tell him i love him!" the knowledge that this battle will end in only one of you making it out alive terrifies her beyond belief but she does all she can to keep a strong face and salute you as you disappear in the crowd. cassie knows that a revenant version of johnny wouldn't fully understand, wouldn't fully accept her love, but she couldn't die or have him die without expressing it one last time.

you weave, shoot and slash through the crowd and end up in a castle-like structure. perhaps if you were to rise to the top you could use the position as surveillance or sniping. you could possibly even find a weak point. the building is just distant enough for the war to hardly reach the inside. your breathing and the sound of boots hitting stone are all you could focus on as you turn a corner.

blood rushes to your ears and you could feel your vision become glassy at the sight of the figure at the end of the hallway. even after all this time, you knew that shape. johnny stood in the dead center of the long hall, arms crossed and waiting like he predicted your arrival. maybe he did.

"no, nonono," you pant, leaning against the wall as your brows furrow. "not you. not now." the grief you thought you conquered washes over you.

"well i'll be damned," johnny smirks, pulling his sunglasses from his face and tucking them into his shirt. "long time no see, sugar." he takes long strides to you and your legs feel embarrassingly weak when you slide to the ground, gun clattering to the stone surface alongside you.

"anyone but you—" you're muttering under your breath, trying to ground your spiraling thoughts. "please."

johnny's in front of you now, kneeling down to meet your gaze. his skin is paled and crackling with a hellish glow, and his eyes are a heinous reddish shade. the outfit he wore was similar in style to his usual, but darker in palette and slightly edgier. in any other context, it was a good look.

"you look just as good as the day i left you," he grins, dismissing your grief and turmoil for flirtation. you want to fight back so bad, to shove him away and put an end to this but dammit it was the first time you'd heard that voice, that damn voice.

"why did you leave me? cassie?" you're involuntarily sobbing now, full of conflict. "why are you doing this?"

"you're the one causing this entire problem," johnny's defensive, jabbing a finger to your chest. "kronika's new era can save us. neither of us join the military. can you imagine it? white picket fence, two dogs and a daughter, home cooked meals every night and none of this bullshit—!" johnny's arm extends out to a nearby window, giving you both a view of the demon-human-demigod war on time. "—baby. join me. we could have everything we've ever dreamed of." his tone isn't as desperate and loving as it should be. it sounded... pushy. frustrated that you're disobeying what he wants.

"no," you choke out, tears flowing freely now. "you're being played a fool, johnny." he doesn't like your answer, and instead wraps a large hand around your small neck. he slides you back up the wall and spins you, your front now pressed up against a wall.

"you know what i'd miss more than your stubbornness?" he growls into your ear. his hand pressing hold on the back of your head is brewing a headache that quickly fizzles away when his other hand tugs your hips toward his front. you swallow, afraid to reply. "this sweet ass."

his cold, dead hand plays with the fat of your ass which spills a growl from his lips. instinctively rutting into you makes you spill an involuntary whimper out, craving his touch after so long.

"always a pain in my ass," johnny groans, slapping a cheek and watching it bounce. "i've gone years without it, i was practically losing my damn mind."

"johnny—" you barely breathe out. you're not entirely sure what you were going to say anyway. the warmth of his hardness shocks you as it slides up and down your clothed ass.

"mm?" he hums, transfixed on the way your behind fits his cock nicely. it was clear he wasn't fully listening and instead relishing in your presence once again.

as if he could read your thoughts, johnny chuckles to himself and kicks the rifle away, only stopping his humping momentarily to remove your defenses. your legs slightly part to try and catch the gun with your foot, accidentally giving him more access to your embarrassingly needy cunt.

"yeah, fuckin' speechless," he growls, hissing at the sight of your soaked bottoms. "bet you missed my cock, yeah?"

you could hardly even whimper from the onslaught of emotion. johnny's hand snakes to the front of your neck, forcibly arching your back as he pulls to lean into your ear.

"join me," he demands coldly.

"no."

johnny's hand dips under your waistband.

"join me," he demands again, tone getting progressively more animalistic as he tugs downward.

"no."

your pants are practically torn off as he grabs a fistful and tugs them to your knees with his mind-numbing strength. you weren't sure if he ripped your panties or tugged them off too. you hear something unbuckle on his end, and his hot, wet tip tickles your entrance.

"last chance." even though his hand returned to shove you into the stone wall, you could hear his cocky grin.

"go fuck yourself," you spit, realizing your grave choice of wording.

"i'll do you one better." he slams his entire cock inside of you, and it immediately settles into your walls like it was made to bury itself there for all of eternity. even still, going without dick that good leaves your pussy burning and on the verge of crying for other reasons.

he bottoms out quick, leaning back to admire how nicely he settles inside of you.

"well fuck, look at that," he says with genuine amusement in his tone. "you look so pretty stretched out on me like this, it's a sight for sore eyes."

your fingers claw at the stone, eyes rolling back as you take his full length without verbal complaint. as you pathetically attempt to protest, all you can sputter out are disconnected syllables. johnny's thrusts start off slow but he snaps into you as he reaches the base inches.

"all this whining but you're fuckin' soaked," he laughs, snapping into you harshly to hear you cry out. "you're a horrible liar, you know. you wanna join me, i can f — haah —" his own cocky nonsense is cut short when you clench around him. he lurches forward in shock, moving both hands to your hips to deepen his grip. "i can feel how tight you are for me."

in little to no time, johnny's cock is pounding into you at a breakneck pace, a horrid slapping sound echoing off of the castle walls as they mix with your obscene moans and his deep grunts. you're sure he's piling more unholy words into you but they feel so far away when he's plowing into you like a dying man — well.

his cracked, grey fingers grope you shamelessly, pinching your nipple through your uniform or rubbing rapid circles into your clit. the pleasure is too much too quickly and you feel a warmth pooling in your stomach as your juices coat his shaft.

a gasp escapes your lips with each thrust, your husband quite literally knocking the wind out of you each time he slams into you.

"i missed you," he purrs out, and just like that all hesitation and guilt you had flew away as his words made you cum hard. a glimpse of his humanity poured through at your orgasm, and while it was flattering, you had bigger problems to worry about then, including just how hard you came.

each wave of pleasure was met with an extra thrust for good measure, a pulse shooting to your clit that makes your knees buckle. what you quickly realize however is that your zombie husband isn't done with your body quite yet.

"oh, no no no," he tuts, thrusts getting wilder and filling you to the point of tears. "you're done when i'm done. this is what you get."

your sensitive walls continued to shamefully take every inch he forced into you, and you could writhe and twitch as a drop of drool spills from your lip. this revenant was fucking you stupid, using your body for all it was worth in the moment. you hated yourself for falling for his undead charm all over again. your vision was going black and starry before another orgasm rode up on you again, johnny's back shots doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation that was racking your body. it's not long before he's whining too, which turns into his signature whimpering when he fucks into you harshly, spewing his cum inside of you like he owns you. you cum with him this time, flooding with your own juice mixed with his cum that now coated your walls nicely.

tears still burned in your eyes, and so did your pussy from the unexpected stretch. johnny panted above you, face turned up at the ceiling as he tries to compose himself.

"holy..." he pants, wiping the sweat from his face with his arm. he wraps an arm around you and slaps at your bare pussy, making you yelp and jump back against his dick that's still buried inside. you swallow thickly and nod, too hazy to make sense of it all.

"i..." what the hell were you going to say? what is there to say after all of this? you're dumbfounded, fucked silly but torn apart by grief. as you crane your neck to look at johnny, you find that he's already looking at you with a coy expression. like he robbed you of something. tore your very being apart piece by piece and was proud.

"hope you're not mad at me for the whole dying thing, by the way."

[herefortheships]

Why would you say people ship Beetlejuice and Lydia? I’ve been a fan for so long I’m just like “huh…why do we ship it?”

Suddenly remembered I hadn’t answered this, and since I can’t sleep right now I’ll answer it! I meant to earlier and forgot.

I personally ship it because I love the concept of monster x human relationships, and especially when one character (usually the male part of the ship when it’s m/f) in this case this character is Betelgeuse, is dark, powerful, often immortal and even terrifying, (in Betelgeuse’s case also unhinged and absolutely crazy lol), and definitely the least you would expect to EVER fall in love, and yet he does fall in love with this other character who happens to be human, mortal, often quiet and also unlikely to fall in love. These two are the least likely to fall for each other, but they do! Then he starts to show a softer, completely unexpectedly romantic side to him that is reserved only for this woman he loves and no one else. She is both his strength and his weakness all at the same time. He is willing to do everything and anything for her.

Often these two characters are complete opposites and at odds with each other (or even enemies!) and yet they find each other in the middle. There is something they find in the other which cannot be replaced or found in anyone else in the world, and as unexpected and unusual and crazy at it is, before they even know it, their connection is forged in a way where they cannot and will not ever belong or fit in with anyone else. They’ve become a part of each other, even when the odds were against them or might be against them forever because they are intrinsically worlds apart. But love just finds them, and they meet in the middle.

I also love this kind of couple a lot when one of the two realizes their connection before the other, like Beetlejuice just knowing Lydia is *the one*, even if he can’t explain to her how he knows or why. This same scenario happens with Spike in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At some point he realized she was the one, and she just got under his skin and became an inseparable part of his being.

Although not always, I believe this type of couple also follows the female gaze, since the male character (as I mentioned above it’s often the male character) shows an interest in the emotions of the female part. This is true in Beetlebabes. He isn’t interested only in her body, but also in honoring her emotions and desires (like Betelgeuse honoring Lydia’s wishes to have a more private wedding and respecting her boundaries by not forcing her to kiss him or something like that, plus making an effort at being romantic by serenading her and giving her an absolutely romantic wedding with a magical dance in the air). These interactions that are more romantic than sexual speak to the female gaze.

I think also that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice had several “Universal fantasies” entwined in the Betelgeuse x Lydia relationship that are just irresistible for many romance lovers and when those are present, our minds just inevitably grab on to those fantasies and identity them whether we are aware of them or not. Our mind just goes yep this is a romance and oh boy what a romance this is and before you know it you are obsessed. If you haven’t read about Universal Fantasies in writing, these are basically just more specific tropes that really speak to audiences in a way that hooks them powerfully to a story, and more specifically to romantic stories. This concept is introduced by Theodora Taylor in her book 7 Figure Fiction (which I’m sure many writers know about since it’s pretty popular but I mention it just in case it’s new to someone reading this).

Another reason lots of people love this ship is just aesthetics as well which is also valid. For me this for sure became one of my top three Burton couples.

[yannaryartside]

SydCarmy vs Lucus

AMBITIONS AND PERSPECTIVES ON ART

This is a long one. Is about the series's themes on pursuing the arts, and the reasons that this ships work as symbolism for it.

When thinking about the reasons Marcus and Sydney were not going to work out (as far as we can see), I read a comment saying: "they are not on the same level" and the more I thought about it, I realized it not only meant they are not equal in culinary expertise, but they also have different ways to "live" their path in the culinary arts, almost opposite philosophies about it. And all of it is explained in their conversations with their (possible) romantic interest. 

WHAT IS AN ART PHILOSOPHY?

When you enter a path in the arts, any part, at some point, you will have to make decisions about how you are going to transit this path because there are very different ways to live a creative life, to make money out of it, and how feel fulfilled about it. Many people will enter their path with an idea of what success looks like, probably modeled after an artist that you admired, the desire for your art to be recognized as good, or as "the best," or even to disrupt what came before you. Shortly, art philosophy is how you value your path in the arts: What makes it good art? What point of your career is gonna bring you satisfaction? What guides you to it?

CARMY AND SIDNEY : "LET'S BE THE BEST AND REACH LOST OF PEOPLE"

They both want to be "the best," their definition of it equals stars, reviews, magazine interviews, and restaurant numbers. The creative impulse is only as valuable as is booming, and a chef is only as good as the size of their kitchen.

They both want exterior recognition and aspire to a big audience, and their satisfaction in their craft depends on that; what makes their unbearable jobs worth it somehow is if "people loved the food." They both have wounds and bonds formed around food and love making people happy with the food, but they have selected a perspective of what "the best" is and is an ambition they run almost blindly to. You can think the burger place on your block has the best food in the world. There are cooks utterly content with that, but the Michelling stars are telling otherwise.

Of course, this is the most tangible way to measure success in arts, the singer with the most loved songs, the book with the most readers. Quality is supposed to be evident by popularity, and they want it, decorated with the prize of succeding in such a competitive industry. They have tried to win the culinary rat race and have regrets about it.

Carmy (motivated by the rejection and abandonment from his brother) worked his ass to unhealthy levels to climb the culinary ladder, living to best everybody around him and run the best restaurant on the planet (which, if we believe his monologue, only took two fucking years). Sydney is presented to us as somebody with equal creative powers, intelligence, and instincts as Carmy, which is particularly obvious in their brainstorming sessions. But she hasn't been offered the same opportunities. Her previous bosses described her as "incredibly talented, impatient, and green." and one friend told her as "always trying to be the best." There is much to say about how her impatience may sabotage her ambitions. Still, it may be because she fears getting stuck, labeled, or never recognized by her talents.

These two have 3 things they prioritize in their art paths:

Creative expression+people love the food

Exterior recognition based on the industry standards (stars and big kitchens)

A rat race (sense of urgency) and your ability to play on it.

What makes your food the "best" is comparing it to everyone else and "winning" in a particular category. 

Not to mention, they are both deeply aware of the logistics and money sides of the restaurant life. It is not like they don't value inspiration, but their ambition is the defining force behind said inspiration. 

MARCUS AND LUCA: "LET'S BE INSPIRED AND EVOLVE"

Luca was introduced to us as someone who was "trying to keep up with Carmy, who was much better than him," the same way the audience feels Marcus is someone trying to impress and keep up with Syd. Luca knows the culinary world, has traveled, and has a privileged position making high-end desserts (possibly in a place with stars). He is the Carmy to Marcus's Sydney. 

Btw, there are some crazy parallels here too:

Marcus and Sydney have a wound/fear related to their mothers.

Luca and Carmy have strained relationships with their siblings (Luca has a sister he cannot find).

Both Carmy and Sydney got into cooking because of early childhood passion

Marcus and Luca got into it by "chance," discovering a passion that they never expected to love this much or be good at.

Mentor x student relationship.

Back to Marcus and Lucas's perspective of art. Notice how Carmy was trapped in a sense of urgency environment, with many people working for him, in NYC, a chaotic city; while Luca seems to work entirely by himself, in a pretty chill environment, in a rather peaceful city. Luca and Marcus thrive on this environment, which is about thought and delicacy, unlike the "efficient, fast run kitchen" Carmy and Sydney established.

Marcus had no philosophy about his craft because he was barely starting. Still, he adopts Luca's philosophy, which has 3 parts:

You may never be the best. Some artists have to let go of the idea of being "the best." There is a lot to say about this. But I want to express this using an example of the craft that I aspire to get into: writing. A friend once told me that some books are not meant to reach millions because they have a very specific audience, and what makes them good is how "memorable they are." More of it, some artists are never recognized in their times. The industry may not be made for them, or it may be just luck. Limiting the value of art by the industry standard is depriving the world of art that needs to be more exploratory, spontaneous, or just free. 

Since industry validation may not be available to you, instead of "being the best" against others, you can decide, "My only competition is me from yesterday." This perspective is super important because it gives you something to aspire to, ensures your creative growth, and allows reinvention.

It is not about skill but being open to the world, yourself, and other people. It is not about fancy techniques or recognition but about being inspired. 

To Luca and now Marcus, the creative process is as good as is honest, and a chef is as good as the effort he puts into it. The "self-exploration" and the recognition of the people surrounding him allowed Marcus to create his desserts: The Copenhagen sundae, for his ultimate school (and Luca), "Mum's" honey bun, Sidney's donut (the first one in believing in him and when he recognized his dreams), and "The Michael" the one that put him to make bread, and the tribute that needs to be made.

[golvio]

I’m very excited about Fury. I have absolutely no idea what to expect, but here are my two best guesses on how they’re going to turn this romantic:

On the most surface, plot-driven level, it’s about you asking yourself “What Am I?” That’s a big question and you won’t have all the pieces necessary to come to a conclusion until five rounds of experimentation. So why not take a look at it through the most literal, concrete, straightforward way possible by physically taking yourself apart and looking at your insides? And, look! The Princess is unwittingly here to help you! Are you ready to go on a journey of exploration and discovery…For Science? *Magic School Bus theme interspersed with horrible squelching meat noises starts playing as Fury unzips your flesh-vessel like a twizzler*

On a more metaphorical level, if Thorn was the “romance” chapter, then Fury is going to be the “physical intimacy” chapter, given all the bodily metaphors. Granted, Beast was also a sort of physical intimacy metaphor regarding the consumptive nature of carnal desire. But this is going to be very different, as a more “guided” experience.

But, also, death doesn’t stick for either of you the way it would for regular people. Pain, too, is only something you experience as much as you believe you can experience it. Your perception changes what you are physically capable of within the Construct, and in Chapter 3 you’re powerful enough to change the direction of the story if you don’t like where the Narrator is going with it. What would happen if you decided to indulge your morbid curiosity and wanted to explore just how much transformation and unmaking and remaking you could take? What would happen if the swift, brutal process of the Fury unwinding you as punishment became a dialogue as you came back and told her what you experienced, then asked if you could try it again, but sideways this time?

And I keep coming back to Shifty’s description of Fury having a strange sort of compassion within her heart. What if, during the process, the two of you caught a glimpse of something the Narrator didn’t want you to see, some sort of truth about your physical bodies that gives you both a major clue about your respective true natures? What if you being transformed by dying gives you a brief experience of what Change is like? What if, at the climax, Fury unmakes herself, and for a moment she glimpses what’s on the other side as you experience Nothingness together? In an inversion of The Wild, where the two of you get to be a feathered landscape in a distant dream together? The two of you, feeling the jagged edges of where you were torn apart, becoming aware for the first time of the little piece of the other that exists within yourselves, seeing things from the other side.

Like…seeing that one snippet of the dialogue from what I assume is the Tower-Fury route in the trailer, I immediately thought of Rammstein’s “Ich Tu Dir Veh,” describing a consensual but also extremely weird sadomasochistic relationship that doesn’t resemble conventional romance or love at all. In particular, the lyric “You are the ship / I am the captain / Where would you like to go?”

The story is about Shifting Mound collecting experiences to understand herself. It is also about you, The Long Quiet, also sharing in and directing these experiences to better understand both your narrative cellmate and yourself. To me, Fury kneeling down next to you and taking you through every step of the process of being unmade and put back together, and experiencing both firsthand and vicariously how painful that is, to see what makes you tick feels like the general premise of the game taken to its darkest, most logical conclusion. But it also feels like a more worksafe metaphor for an actual BDSM torture session with a first-time domme, while Tower was more about unhealthy power dynamics and dubious consent. Here, there is the possibility of negotiation. Here, she is made something closer to equal to you, as a fellow creature of flesh and blood. She may still be more physically powerful and with a terrifying sort of divinity, but you still make the choices that move the story along, and you ultimately have the last word. She will only go as far as you ask her to go. The process itself involves heavy negotiation and the prodding and examination of boundaries. When it goes too fast and you’ve had enough, you tap into your divine nature and pull away from her, becoming Nothing so that she can no longer touch you, no longer hurt you. Otherwise, Shifty ends the scene and pulls you out so you aren’t stuck in the narrative dead end of eternal torment. A dance must have both partners be willing. She can’t continue unless you let her proceed, if only to see what happens.

I think…during the more “loving” ending, there is going to be some kind of change in the dynamic between you and the Princess that shifts things from a torture session into something much more consensual, if still gory and a little messed up. This thing, which was supposed to be purely physical, suddenly shifting into a profound moment of connection for reasons flesh and endocrine chemicals alone can’t explain. I’m looking forward to seeing that moment, and if the “first-time physical intimacy” metaphor ends up holding water, where it ends up going may or may not make me cry.

[sebastianmichaelisslander]

my good friend i'm curious. because i am Very Normal about characters and i know you are also Very Normal about characters i would like to know. is there any kuro character you love enough/have enough thoughts about to write an essay on them? and why? because i know we have many characters we both love and some we disagree on i'd love to hear a bit of in-depth stuff about your faves!!

I am so, so, very glad I received this ask 😭🙏🏼💐 you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for something like this!!!

Alright, I’m going to talk about one of my comfort characters: Mey-Rin.

And as this blog is for (semi-jokingly) slandering Sebastian, let me begin by saying that Seabass absolutely does not deserve this girl:

I mean, just look at her. 😭🙏🏼

Where do I begin?

First off, I feel like she’d be sharper and more perceptive than she gets credit for. I don’t buy that she doesn’t suspect a thing about Sebastian. She’d know something is very, very off about him from the start, even if he does show her kindness she’s seldom experienced before. I also think that’s the reason she wouldn’t have acted upon the crush she had on him - not just because she isn’t sure of his own feeling towards her, but also because something tells her it wouldn’t end well.

These observational skills are also partly why she’s more emotionally intelligent than she thinks. She truly is the mum friend - very helpful, very protective, and always someone you can come to with your problems. If you’ve noticed, she’s fretting over Finny, Bard, Ciel and Seb at several points in the manga. I also see her as the sort who worries more than she should, especially about those she cares for. This would also make her quite the overthinker - the sort to worry about stuff after it happens as she’s often in situations where she needs to act in the moment.

Although she’s primarily a long-range fighter, I do think she’d know her stuff when it comes to hand-to-hand combat - enough to help her in sticky situations. She’s lived on the streets for a lot of her formative years, so she would know how to remain aware of her surroundings and have a mean right hook. I also write her as more assertive than in canon. Partly because I wish we got to see her shine more, and partly because I think it would be a given if you look at her backstory and what all she’s had to survive.

I also enjoy portraying her as the sort who lowkey has a sassy side, but only once she gets comfortable enough with the person for them to know it’s all in jest coming from her. She’d make a wisecrack and then apologise for roasting them. 😂😭

Now, going back to her and Sebastian because I still have more to say: I’m also not a Sebamey shipper as I don’t like how quite a few fics shipping her with Sebastian portray her as his doormat or some damsel in distress 😭 but even if that’s not the case, just the fact that it’s a canon possibility he’d use her just as he used Beast lowkey puts me off. I’ll still read fics in which he’s a good partner to her, though - they’re fun.

I also like to think that while she is infatuated with Sebastian at first, it eventually turns into an “I admire him and aspire to be as good at my job” sort of thing. I think she developed a crush on him because he was one of the few men who showed her genuine kindness - even if it’s part of his act. I think most of the men she’s come across were the opposite - and that she’d also had some genuinely scary experiences with them (which I have implied in my works with her). I also don’t think she’d trust them in a hurry, even if she appears unbothered by men she meets at first.

About her life after she starts working at the manor: much like any other woman, all she wants is to feel desirable, especially when she gets to dress and live as one properly.

I also think that she’s a romantic at heart who loves the idea of finding someone who loves her for who she is, although she probably feels it’s all but a pipe dream. I think she’s probably had an experience or two before - probably fleeting ones. Living out most of her life pretending to be a man meant she didn’t have many opportunities at all for this sort of thing, even on the down low. So she hasn’t had any proper experiences with romance. I’m remembering the panel in which she’s extremely flustered after Ronald flirts with her, saying that’s the first time she’s been hit on. I like to interpret that as her feeling like this is the first time someone has made genuine romantic advances towards her.

As for her hobbies and any other interests outside of her job… I don’t know why, but I see her as the artsy kind with humanities girl energy. She seems like the sort who’d be a great artist and surprisingly good at painting. I also like to think she’d try to read more after Sebastian teaches her how to, often using a small part of her wages to buy novels (she loves both the macabre ones and the sappy romantic ones, lol). She’d underline any word she doesn’t know, probably asking Sebastian what it means later on.

I’d like to know more about her pastimes, likes, dislikes, and her as a character overall in canon as well. There’s still potential to expand upon a great deal.

That’s it for now on her! I’m going to do Othello next 😂 and then Ludger, mayhaps - or William and Grelle. My brain isn’t working today, so apologies for any vagueness or if I didn’t explain myself too clearly dhfjdkdb 😭

[unsiredtribrid]

I kind of want to talk about my micro-feelings/thoughts on hosie vs hizzie, just for my own sake and if anyone else finds it enlightening (because idk, I think a lot of people wonder why I like hosie so much. There are a lot of people who don't get it, or they misunderstand my opinions on both ships in some way or the other).

So far I do like the way hizzie is set up and the potential subtext here regarding, like. Lizzie's jealousy being interwoven with a desire to be friends with Hope, and how the twins were clearly almost territorial over who got her attention. I talk about that some here.

Howeverrr. As much as I think it's really fun as like a fanon concept that Lizzie is into Hope (and the fic I was thinking of posting that has almost 4k words so far is basically supposed to be a multi-chapter rewrite of Legacies centered on Lizzie realizing she has feelings for Hope and exploring the lesbian headcanon people have in fanon, because I think it's fun/neat to explore. So I get it. I get why people like it, because same, in fanfic)--

--I also don't actually feel any longing on Lizzie's end in a romantic sense, in canon. I think there is longing in like a connection/friend way, which is a huge part of their dynamic. I'm going to start expanding on why I think this, so please keep reading if this hasn't already upset you.

For some reason there's this big thing in fandom nowadays where people can't enjoy things in fanon without thinking they're canon, or like... idk, people can't have nuanced opinions in general about what they're watching, but I'm tired of conforming to that box, so I'm just sharing my thoughts as they are.

In the "I had a crush on you" scene, Lizzie's tears (at least to me) come off more like she's upset that Josie lied to her and felt like she had to hide something that long. I think that to an extent, Lizzie doesn't fully realize that her behavior is a constantly oppressive feeling for Josie (and that situation is also somewhat self-fulfilling, it's not entirely Lizzie's fault), to the point Josie feels the need to intentionally hide things to that extreme, I guess.

Like, the school talent show episode shows that Lizzie is aware of their toxic dynamic and what role she plays (and she is somewhat accepting/fine with it), which I talk about here, but I don't think she realizes 100% how constant and all-encompassing it is to the point that Josie kind of plots things. Like Josie planted a lie just to protect her crush on Hope-- I don't think Lizzie anticipated that level of dedication or even strife, lol. I could go on a tangent about the twins' dynamic, but I already have several posts talking about that and the problems on both sides, so I won't right now.

So, anyway. All that to say, I read her tears as feelings of betrayal, hurt and confusion. I think if she was jealous of the crush interaction specifically, or how Josie and Hope smiled at each other, it probably would've come up because Lizzie isn't someone that's very subtle about those kinds of feelings.

And then the season 1 cherry on top of the "it feels like she's not canonically into Hope that way, even though it's fun in fanon" is the moment she starts joking to Hope (in 1x14) about how hooking up with Roman would be a 'strenuous activity' to help her stress. Like yeah, it's a joke, but that's just the thing. It reads as two actual friends. It reads like Lizzie is advising Hope to jump on this opportunity to get with someone she thinks is more attractive (in a teasing way) because she thinks Landon is kinda lame. And she's right, lmao. I mean, not about Roman, he's a loser and he's not attractive. But I mean, she's right that Landon is lame and Hope should try to do better. The whole episode, she's being a good friend to Hope and then still trying to be somewhat charitable to Landon, despite being annoyed about Landon causing trouble during the pageant (because she knows he's important to Hope). She tells Hope that she'll help her get Landon back, as long as she helps her get Josie back.

And then this brings the hosie of it back around, too. Lizzie knows that Hope has an effect on Josie and with either Hope's thoughts or actions, or both, it could help smooth things over. Because she knows that Josie is soft on Hope and vice versa. The first half of season 1, Hope and Josie are sneaking around doing magic together. Hope tells Josie about what's going on with Landon and Raf before Ric tells the school or his daughters. All of hosie's behavior was flying in the face of Lizzie telling Josie to stop keeping secrets with Hope (because of the twins being kind of terretorial of that relationship, for obvious reasons already established). But they kept doing it, presumably because they kind of keep coming back to each other like magnets. Hope could trust Josie to help her with dark magic without judgment and without ratting her out and then vice versa.

Anyway, back to Hope helping Lizzie get Josie 'back'. When Hope goes to talk to Josie, Josie gets visibly jealous and snappishly refers to Hope and Lizzie being best friends. This is like... active interest on Josie's part. With the context of the crush, it just backs up this romantic tension that's underlying there. Josie never tries to be Hope's wingman. Even later on when Lizzie is suggesting it's their duty to help Hope get a rebound, Josie is staunchly kind of avoiding it. She's also the one that voices dissent about h*ndon's relationship in the cult episode, being the actual mouth piece for pointing out that Hope and Landon just fundamentally don't work (and she's right). Everything about hosie feels romantic, while in canon, hizzie feels pretty platonic thus far.

[nrilliree]

Tbh, everyone keeps saying they found the chemistry between Matt and Milly very hot but personally, I feel very grossed out every time they were together, even on the bridge of Dragonstone. Idk but knowing the dynamic between them as well as the age gap between the actors, it just grosses me out. As for Emma not having a good chemistry with Matt, I think it was intentional. It was supposed to be wooden and mechanical, because Rhaenyra is no longer a child, therefore an object of fascination to Daemon. Now Rhaenyra is older, a mother of 3. She's much grown but still idolizes him. He uses her again, this time mostly to fulfill his thirst for power for the Iron Throne, whereas he previously desired her for both power and pedophilic attraction. A lot of people ship Daemyra are either unaware or being completely aware that it's a relationship between an abuser and his victim. The power dynamic is off kilter and very skewed. I really hope the scene below in season 2 will open their eyes. Better late than never.

https://www.tumblr.com/softsweetmela/751555613328310272/can-i-just-say-how-refreshing-it-is-to-have-a?source=share

And these people think they are intelligent ? Not only do they sound completely ridiculous, but they also disgust me for being happy to follow and adhere to the showrunners' misguided view of adding physical violence to the Daemyra relationship. And once again, the definition of grooming and pedophilia is available in one click on the internet. It amazes me to see so many of our people use such important and serious big words in a situation that absolutely does not lend itself to it. Also, history books and / or historical research to understand what a historical context is and what it implies are not for dogs.

I would really like to understand what they see as grooming in the show ?

Nothing inappropriate is suggested on Daemon's side as long as Rhaenyra is not of age by the standards of Westeros and our modern standards.

He is literally in a relationship with Mysaria.

He is introduced to us as not often at court and has his own affairs to manage between first his work as leader of the goldcloaks and then his quarrels with Viserys.

The fact that he gives Rhaenyra a simple necklace is not proof of grooming. It mostly seems like a nod to the many gifts mentioned that he always gave Rhaenyra upon returning from his travels, as well as emphasizing their deep connection in comparison to their relationship with Viserys.

Rhaenyra seems to have a crush on Daemon, but Daemon doesn't seem to do anything inappropriate about it.

The only moment where Daemon finally seems to have an real ambiguous interest in Rhaenyra before episode 4 is in episode 2, on the bridge, when he sees 15-year-old Rhaenyra (I remind you that at this age, girls in Westeros are considered marriageable) making her flash and she defeats him.

Then, he found her years later when she was 19 and they spent an evening together where he seduced her and she very willingly let herself be seduced, and in the end, Daemon can't even go through with it his objective which yes, certainly, was not very noble.

But to call it grooming ? WTF ?

Not to mention the fact that Rhaenyra's age, from episode 1, disqualifies her from being able to belong to the definition of pedophilia in the case of Daemon.

As you said, we could talk about ephebophile, but there is in fact no tangible proof, especially because we are in a different historical context compared to the vision of the age, but also because Daemon was in couple with adult women both according to Westeros society and our modern society.

He was in a relationship with Mysaria, an adult, married an adult Rhaenyra, did not seem to be put off by Laena when she was an adult, and in the cut scenes, Daemon literally fucked an adult man.

So no. Even ephebophile doesn't work. Daemon is simply a man who lives in a feudal society where age is not perceived as in ours and overall he has relationships with individuals of any type of age as long as these people are legal according to the standards of his society (book or show) which... is not technically shocking.

Again, the people who are offended have probably never opened a history book, done historical research, or even taken basic history classes.

That or they are stupid or deliberately obtuse.

Again, the definitions of grooming and pedophile are freely available on the internet.

There is no excuse for such a lack of logic / common sense in my eyes.

I would also dare to add that all this is probably also due to an increasingly ridiculous hypocritical purity culture in media analysis... Which for some reason is becoming more and more important.

It's not for nothing that most people giving this kind of speech about Daemyra / Daemon are mainly TG (so Aegon II stans, among other disgusting things...), Team Smalfolk and or Alicent stans after all...

The fact is that I'm tired of seeing these stupid people show off their science with big words to give themselves moral superiority, while the definitions are very easily found... And I don't understand that so many people can adhere to this bullshit.

TG stans really don't like it when you accuse them of their lack of logic and knowledge of the definitions of the words they so eagerly use. Just look:

They will use any argument, even the most absurd and strange, just to justify themselves and make themselves look better. All the time, they create themselves and their favorites as victims of the system, and they strive to show that TB are just as bad or even worse.

Aegon is a rapist? Daemon is a pedophile and rapist! Aemond is a psychopath, a bully and a murderer? Rhaenyra's children are spoiled bastards who are just like Joffrey, they have no feelings and are completely bully! Alicent is a lying traitor with no real honor? Rhaenyra is a lying whore!

It gets to a point where they have run out of arguments and the fact that "Daemon had an affair with Nettles" is not enough and can be disproved by "Daemon may be Nettles' father" that now they are creating a theory that… Daemon is her father, he knows it and at the same time has an affair with her :P!

They just want to feel like they're the good guys. That's why they slander TB, compare TG to the Stark family from GoT (and TB to the Lannisters), create their strange theories and cast slander, and then react aggressively when you disagree with them. Because they probably know that TG are the "bad guys" and they don't like it.

I block them, but when I see a real absurdity that got into my searches through the filter, sometimes I can't let it go :P They will still be outraged and portray themselves as persecuted victims, so what? Let them live in their imaginary world, the series will end one day and they will be left with nothing.

[spaceratprodigy]

✨ NSFW Alphabet Tag Post ✨

Thank you for the tag @freesidexjunkie 💖💕

Took me a bit BUT your call for me to ramble about Faith and Max ideas has been HEARD and ye shall receive 👀💦💦

–

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

I like to imagine they're big softies just melting into each other. This is something they never thought they'd find in anyone and they want to relish in the comfort for as long as possible. It's unbelievable. Staying close, last lingering touches, helping clean each other up, able to immediately pick up a conversation about something that interests them while they enjoy the intimacy of the closeness, the peace, and the privacy.

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of their partner)

Faith loves his hands. She'll hold them, press them to her lips, she wants them all over her. He hesitated in the past to let those hands touch her, ashamed of the pain and violence they were capable of, but she took them anyway. She forgave them. She assured him they would never hurt her.

Mayhaps silly, but Max loves her face. She keeps so much of it hidden at all times, and he will never take for granted again how blessed he is to be the only one to see a side of her she shows no one else. Those eyes of hers, normally so dark and fierce hidden behind her sunglasses, soften so much when she looks at him, they are filled with so much pain and so much love. The way she smiles, the smile that only appears when he has her all to himself. The scars he will gently touch and kiss and whisper promises against her skin how he will never let anyone hurt her ever again.

C = Cum

Everyone is going to have to accept that Faith is downright filthy and making Max cum is going to drive her absolutely wild. And she is going to be just as filthy when it comes to the clean up.

D = Dirty Secret

Probably neither of them wanting to admit how desperately they didn't realize they needed this.

E = Experience

Most people that have talked to me about Max know that my headcanon for him is Inexperienced But Good With His Hands.

Faith has a little more experience and has a much better grasp of her sexual appetite and desires. I know I joke around with many ships for her, but in her canon it really isn't easy for someone to capture her attention and satisfy her needs.

F = Favorite Position

For Faith I don't know she really has a favorite. It depends more on her mood than anything else, different positions hitting different spots filling her with different sensations and all that. She does take charge and top him rather often.

I like to imagine Max enjoys the positions where they're incredibly intertwined and pulled into each other. The feeling of their bodies becoming one, the heat of their skin touching, it's intoxicating. Who knew it was possible to enjoy the company of another person this much.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I think, especially when they first become intimate, they're incredibly soft with each other. They're learning how to love each other in such a new way. There's no rush, no shame, no judgement. It's just them. Exploring every inch of each other, committing every detail to memory. I always imagine Max starting off a bit more serious and embarrassed while he's finding his groove, but in time him and Faith both are so comfortable and natural with each other that their personalities have no issue shining through.

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

Faith is admittedly not the most well groomed. She trims to her preference but she's rockin out whatever is natural.

Max takes a little more care in grooming himself. I always imagine his routine changing a bit since joining the crew, not being as on top of it as frequently as he was beforehand. Especially if they're traveling. But ultimately, he takes a little more care than Faith does.

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

They're very aware of each other. They really want to make sure the other is enjoying themself and feeling just as good as they are. Paying close attention aside, they are starved, passionate, craving indulging in every ounce of each other, they want to be completely lost in one another.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

I'm not gonna pretend like Faith doesn't touch herself frequently when she has the privacy to do so. Girl has needs. Also some frustrations she needs to work out.

I don't really headcanon Max as touching himself, honestly. I feel like he is just incredibly pent up. But I also feel like maybe those kinds of feelings weren't exactly as strong in him and he was too caught up in his obsession more than anything else.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I kinda want to answer this one for the sake of being silly. She has a priest kink and he loves the kind of woman that can kick his ass.

Honestly I feel like there's a lot I could get into here. But it might just be easier to be vague. She really gets off to him being rough and desperate. He is a bit flustered to admit how much her ungodly depravity gets him worked up. Do with that information what you will, there are many layers to what it entails.

L = Location (favorite places to do the deed)

I think they enjoy their privacy the most. But they also don't exactly have a lot of freedom when on the ship or when other crew mates are around in general to be as adventurous. But in some loose ideas and other AUs where they do have that luxury, I allow them to be a bit more impatient and needy. I feel like they deserve to have some alone time in the Grand Colonial Penthouse Suite. I also feel like they absolutely need to have sex in an OSI Church.

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

Honestly? Attention from each other. They're not exactly the most mushy gushy people, and they're very particular when it comes to how they engage with others that being favored in the eyes of the other is exhilarating. Being close, gently touching, saying each other's first name.

I also extend this to them just watching each other. Whenever they're in a fight having to defend themselves, whenever they're watching the other do something they're really good at, whenever they're info dumping about something to each other. Simply just existing together.

N = NO (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

I don't see either of them being into consensual violence if that makes sense. They have their own burdens with anger issues and violent tendencies, that isn't something they want intimately. Especially with Faith having a history of abuse, and Max never wanting to harm her in any way.

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

Highly enjoy both but I would say that they both particularly get off to giving. The sounds and reactions that come from pleasuring each other cannot be compared.

While I still don't see Max as exactly experienced and needs his practice, I find the idea of him finding a newfound addiction in tasting the sweet forbidden nectar of the gods rather irresistible.

Faith has her own limitations but she knows exactly how to use them to her advantage, and once she gets her hands, and mouth, on him she'll figure out exactly how to play with him.

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

They start off quite slow and sensual when they're learning to love each other. Figuring out their needs and desires, finding all the good spots, what really drives each other wild. And they love every minute of it. They're learning and they're loving this closeness they didn't realize they were starving for for so long. They need this for their trust and passion to blossom, it only brings them closer to be so vulnerable with each other. In time they find their groove and pick up the pace more, but there's something so wonderful in the slow tenderness.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

They aren't opposed to it. They honestly probably have quickies rather often, their spacer lifestyle and the crew always being nearby can really interfere with how much time and privacy they have. Not that they aren't ever having quickies for funsies either. But I do think they would like to have more opportunity for proper sex.

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

I mean, yeah. They've got a lot about each other to explore. Faith is probably the more adventurous one in terms of ideas to try new things.

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

Faith has more stamina than Max, but I see it more as because I write him as more inexperienced and a lil more sensitive to the sensations. Once he gets used to her he's able to hold himself together longer and be his confident, cocky self.

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

Faith would absolutely get her hands on some toys. They're probably mostly getting used on herself tho. For her own pleasure, for making him watch and not letting him touch, for him to use on her. That isn't to say they aren't also being used on him, she'll have a blast hearing the sounds he makes while coming undone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot. They love breaking each other's composure. They both behave with a certain level of calculation, that being able to disrupt that in any way gets them going. Especially once they get each other alone and they let their hands join the game. What is hotter than seeing either of them become a needy, begging mess. And let's be honest, I think she needs to edge Max, it would be good for him, I swear.

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

Faith is louder than Max ever expected, sometimes even needing to cover her mouth during sex to keep from letting the entire ship hear. She's normally so quiet and composed, but her moans were much higher than her usual voice and she practically squeaked.

Max is usually on the quieter side, groaning roughly into her and swearing against her skin. But if she has her mouth on him or she's riding him she's able to get him to cry out in a tone she's never heard him make otherwise while he's gripping onto her desperately.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I always come back to this idea of Max having a wet dream about Faith prior to them getting together and it forces him to acknowledge a lot of things.

X = X-Ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, pictures or words)

I mean. I write them as a bisexual m/f couple. Faith is always gonna be a woman that enjoys her fluidity. But I think y'all already know I love every interpretation of Max.

Do you mean that or what are they wearing? In canon I don't think their underwear is that exciting. She definitely has lingerie in AUs that she wears for him. Love putting my girly in some black lace especially. Whenever I draw porn of Max I give him sock garters.

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

Faith has a pretty high sex drive, in her canon she just doesn't exactly get to satisfy it as much as she'd probably like until she meets Max. But even then, I don't think his sex drive is quite as high, not at first especially, but she loves him and she wouldn't change the way he loves her for anything in the galaxy. He's not letting her go unsatisfied, let's put it that way.

Z = ZZZ (...how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Faith has sleep issues, insomnia and nightmares mostly when it's not pain and discomfort making her toss and turn, so she probably isn't falling right to sleep. But she is going to be tired out enough that it's easier for her to get comfortable, especially getting to be in his arms and feeling safe and at ease.

I tend to also write Max as having sleep issues, but that's a different conversation for another day. But I think this kind of release would do him wonders to finally get some good rest. He's used to staying up until he's sure Faith made it to sleep okay, so he'll probably try to hold on tho.

open tag to anyone who wants to jump in!

[sapphiel]

The Nine Lucifers, a bunch of demons that committed crimes and atrocities to the denizens of the Seven Circles of Hell. More info down below~

Archibald, the Lucifer of Limbo, punished for his desire of a union between Hell and Heaven, a thought no other demon would share with him. After a plea to both sides have failed, he was deemed a traitor of Hell and had since been banished into a separate realm outside of it. But with some strong willpower, and extra spatial awareness, he had managed to turn the realm into a neutral area where any and all entities, be they demon, angel, or mortal, can enter and relax in. Named the Purgatorium, being within its confines will also affect one with a pacifistic spell that prevents any sort of hostile actions being taken.

Jezieka, the Lucifer of Lust, punished not for a crime that she had committed, but her lover's. But it was not an act of sabotage or deception, but a willing sacrifice. Jezieka's lover, Sarah, had a livelihood and a hobby that involved indulging herself in the literal taste of other demons' flesh that she could not bear to end. Jezieka, unable to either help her end her addiction nor ease her worries of losing her life, she offered herself to be branded as the Lucifer in her stead. In an esoteric ritual that the couple had committed to symbolize and sanctify each other's mutual love, Jezieka had offered her eyes to her lover, as a promise that she may never look at another person's face again, and that Sarah's would be the last she'd ever see. Sarah, meanwhile, had offered her womb, promising that she may not harbor another person's love nor lust within herself. Lady Vylke, the Lucifer of Gluttony, and the Lady of Harvest in Villam, also known as the Circle of Gluttony. Her title gives her the authority and responsibility of managing the resources that sprout from Villam, which are then shipped to the other six circles. Her importance to Hell's economy prevents her from being truly punished as a Lucifer, of which she was branded for consuming demon flesh in copious amounts indiscriminately, so much so that those that demand to see her must offer her a gift for her to consume, lest they be consumed themselves. Placed under house arrest, Lady Vylke manages Villam from the safety of her manor, still satiating herself with the occasional unfortunate soul every now and then. Though some say she wasn't always like this, and was a fun normal (as for demon standards) individual for the most part...

Tytus and Dima, the Lucifers of Greed, infamous for their dastardly deeds of raiding ultra secure banks within Fodere, also known as the Circle of Greed. Tytus, hailing from Auctoritas, the Circle of Pride and demonic law, knows his way through legal loopholes to avoid capture for so long, while his wife, Dima, a native of Fodere, knows the ins and outs of high security vaults and locations of potential treasure. But after having the overly ambitious idea of raiding a Fodere bank (which is something not even other Fodere residents would even THINK of doing), they were captured and branded. Forced to stay physically together by a holy bond, the two remain as thieves that trek the lands of Fodere, however they are now always on the run, and sometimes leap between the Circles, but are now unable to keep any treasure strictly to themselves, rather having to share them, much to their dismay.

Ariel, the Lucifer of Anger, found herself being subdued by both angel and demon, after being sent to a vicious state of extreme fury. Supressed and branded with angelic seals, she was exiled from the Circles for everyone's safety. However, despite being tempered by said seals, Ariel is a barely restrained core of seething white-hot rage in each and every single waking moment, always on the verge of snapping but unable to truly unleash her wrath. Stories were passed that her fury was because of a betrayal of a lover... who most certainly must regret their actions to this day.

The Lucifer of Heresy, whose name had been lost to time, urged all demons of Hell to break its treaty with Heaven to overthrow the angels and set demons back to their former glory. However, after being faced with too much backlash and criticism, Heresy had set her sights no longer against the angels, but her fellow demonic kin instead. After slaying one too many naysayers, Heresy was branded and exiled from hell, her disfigurement so great that she no longer even remembers her own face, and her insult to the superiors of Hell so strong that they have wiped her name clean from both records and minds of herself and any witnesses, doomed to be a faceless nameless creature shrouded in darkness.

Red Lady, the Lucifer of Violence, is the embodiment of an instigator. Where there is strife to be had, there will be Red Lady, the start of it all. She thrives off of conflict, creating it whenever she can, and after demonkind had taken notice of her antics, she was branded and exiled. In addition to these, her body had become extremely frail and weak. No longer able to directly cause conflict herself, she has learned to instead manipulate and trick others around her, gaining a metaphorical silver tongue in the process. Now wreaking havoc in the mortal plane, there had been rumors spreading that major events in that realm were actually caused by Red Lady herself, wearing a facade.

Adarahiel, the Lucifer of Fraud, a compulsive liar and manipulator, having spent centuries deceiving her kin with a mask she so meticulously crafted so that she will be perceived as a kind and caring individual, when she was anything but. Now, deceiving the commonfolk is no severe crime, but after tricking the wrong person at the wrong time for the wrong things, Adarahiel was captured, convicted, and branded. In addition, an angelic sword had cleaved her upper body in twain, but instead of perishing instantly, she instead found her two halves regenerating, forming new flesh. Her head, formerly two halves, now two full ones, but one gained the personality of the mask she had created for herself, the other her true self, forced to gaze into and keep company the mask she had fabricated.

Abaddon, the Lucifer of Treachery, the lowest of the low, a soul so ancient that he had grown tired of this existence. He wants to end it all, and see something new, and to achieve that, he must find an angel to bear his seed to create a spawn that bears the blood of both angel and demon. Such a creature would bear strength and power that even gods would fear, and with this power, Abaddon would finally have the means to make his dream a reality. After convincing an angel to bear his child, his plan would've slowly started to come into fruition... if it wasn't for the angel to catch wind of his schemes. After a heated argument, she ended her own life, but scattering the essence of her child away from Hell, onto the mortal plane. Not one to give up, however, Abaddon had set his sights onto where mortals tread, determined to find the child that was rightfully his and use their strength to burn this reality down, and create something new from its ashes. All this child had to do... was let him in.

[swaps55]

One thing I love every time you talk about Sam is how deeply you understand him as a character. I have two related questions: 1) what strategies or tips have you used on purpose to get to know him better, over all the time you've been writing him? 2) what's the most surprising unintentional way you've learned big things about him?

Thank you!!! Part of it is that Sam lives rent free in my head at all times. There is no chance I could have more than one Shepard. Sam is it. He's a full time job.

How do I get to know him better?

I ask why, all the time. At the outset, when I was first giving him shape, the key question I set out to answer was, "Why does this guy save the galaxy, as opposed to someone, anyone else?" It was not an easy question to answer, and I am more or less still answering it. The other big question that set the stage for a lot of things was, "how does someone without the inherent trauma of Mindoir or the Earthborn background become the Butcher of Torfan?"

Whenever he does something, or reacts to something, or has a particular opinion, I try to ask why. I don't write from his POV, so I really have to stop and think about his motivations, his desires, the things that make him tick. And I think about them all the time. Sometimes the answers are obvious, otherwise they take longer to percolate up. I've learned to be patient.

Using a readmore because I did a lot of rambling.

One of the things that took me a little longer to unknot was why Sam gets so defensive in Cantata when Kaidan asks why he put himself through the N program with the glucose side effect. It was a pretty valid and question, but Sam comes back at him later asking why Kaidan doubts him at every turn, including whether he's good enough for the N program. But Kaidan didn't question that. Why did Sam interpret it that way?

I didn't have the answer when I wrote the chapter, and it always bugged me until I came across another instance where the same thing happens and it finally hit me. Sam interprets worry as doubt. If you express worry, in his head that translates to, "I don't think you can do this." So any time someone worries about him, he gets weirdly pissy. It's not until Kaidan flat out yells, "because I worry about you," to his face, that it clicks Kaidan isn't criticizing him.

I also learned huge things about him kind of unexpectedly at the orchard. I'd always operated under the impression that his fixation on the N program was largely due to the expectations of his mother, but that chapter showed me it really wasn't. His endless quest for approval is definitely because of her, but he went for N7 because he feels he owes his father a debt.

The N7 chapter of Cantata, Facing Giants, was a huge revelation overall, because that's where it felt like all the formative influences on him really crystalized. That chapter showed him in context with his mother and father, and how much they both influenced him so heavily in different ways, and it fell together in ways that were beyond my wildest expectations. I didn't set out to make that chapter a thesis on what made Sam Shepard Sam Shepard, but that's what it became.

But the most surprising, unintentional way I've learned something big about him is probably that time I got a random snippet of dialogue in my head out of the blue that handed me the answer to a question I'd been asking for probably 3 years: Why did Sam want the marines so badly? His mother wasn't a marine, and she's the one he was desperate to please. But his desire to be a soldier came around long before his father disappeared. So...why a solider? I didn't have an answer and it was making me crazy until this exchange between Daniel and kid!Sam popped in my head out of nowhere, in the shower:

"My job is to protect you. Arcturus is safer than being on a ship.” “Who’s gonna protect mom?”

....and there was my answer.

One of the really fun ways to think about Sam is in terms of what I know about him vs. his own self awareness. A lot of the questions that take longer to answer tend to be the ones where he lacks self-awareness of what drives him, like that particular question. If you asked him why he wanted to be a marine so badly he wouldn't be able to tell you. But now I know!!! Wheeeeeee!

[amemenojaku]

What about Reimu for the character ask meme....

I just did Marisa now I have to do the most important woman in the world

General opinion/How much I care about them: GIRL OF ALL TIME. My blog is a Reimu love zone ONLY and no slander will ever be tolerated. Her impact on nerd culture and on the internet as a whole is unparalleled... (ok Miku is up there too but they're sharing the throne) She embodies the series so well and I love her so much for that. It's so good how each new installment offers a different perspective on her personality... it makes me a bit emotional to think that we've never seen who Reimu "really" is. I'm particularly interested in her role both in the current setting and as the latest in a long line of shrine maidens, and how she feels about it all. Of course I also love her silly moments and her carefree side and her desire to just live :) She makes me feel happy and then when I think about her more deeply she makes me feel like there's still an endless amount of things left to do with her character and of fanworks to create which is the best part of Touhou to me!!

A ship I love: Reimari is my favorite for the reasons I wrote in the Marisa post, but in general she's the character I most easily enjoy pairings of. She bounces off others really well and there's a bit of everything for everyone, whatever the genre you prefer I think there's a good Reimu pairing for it! Some other characters I love seeing her with are Yukari (can't go wrong with a classic, the aesthetic is immaculate and it's good food for thought), Seija (this one is uhhh. a lot. don't really have the space to detail it here), Alice (either pure angst or pure fluff like there's no inbetween lol), Akyuu (they are THE SAME and IT HURTS!!!)...

A non-romantic relationship that I love: Her friendship with Shinmyoumaru is really important to me but since I already talked about it at length I'll say Aunn! It's super cute and I love to imagine doggie Aunn snuggling up to baby Reimu when she sleeps, even though Reimu isn't aware she exists... Another excellent addition to the Reimu solar system. This girl desperately needed another pet

The NOTP: Oookay the fandom's gonna burn me at the stake for this but I don't like reisana very much anymore. It's cute and I used to enjoy it quite a lot but stuff happened and now it's just there I guess. shrugs

My biggest headcanon about them: There's so many... I think there were mementos or diaries of the past shrine maidens kept somewhere in the shrine and Reimu found them. She's hidden them somewhere else so they wouldn't be taken away or damaged by anyone.

An idea for a fanwork I would like to make/see about them: I want to make a collaborative Reimu zine with other artists/writers SO badly... I definitely think it's possible to do it on tumblr but I've already ran a bunch of events for the community and it requires energy that I don't have anymore. Maybe one day!

Something that makes me think of them: Japanese indie band chouchou!! Here's a few songs I associate with Reimu specifically: dawn and sign 0

[ruewrites]

Kinktober 2022 Day 27: Prostitution

AO3

Ship: Asmodeus/Diavolo

Word Count: 1007

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I have been so excited to write this one. Tbh I crave more Asmodeus/Diavolo in my life.

It was that time of year, and the need to take the edge off was starting to become unbearable. All of the lust demons had been excitedly flitting around, ready to not only have their fun but also line their pockets with a bit of extra cash. Extra cash meant new clothes and longer hours spent at The Fall. Of course their own desires had a part to play, but it also assisted in more success in getting others to desire them. Not to mention, requests were a nice ego boost regardless of whether they were in person or online.

Asmo had many requests, so many that he had to put a limit on how many in person requests he accepted and with who. He was picky, and only his most trusted clients got him in the flesh this time of year. After all, just because the Avatar of Lust was paid for didn’t mean he accepted just any treatment, and that was something some demons just didn’t seem to understand. 

Everyone was crawling, and everyone was begging. After all, the season didn’t spare a denizen.

And of course, the future demon king would only get the best of the best. 

Asmo flopped back onto the giant bed, rolling from one side to the other, like a cat unsure of what position they'd like to relax in yet. All the while, he was more than aware of his lord's eyes on him. Diavolo was a kind man, and a large man. Asmo would be lying if he said he hadn't been absolutely giddy when the future demon king sent him an offer over Devmo.It wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting it, but the notification still made him scramble to his phone. He could always change his mind, but why would he? Asmo knew he was the prince’s favorite little lust demon, and he had a wonderful personality (among other things). Not only would he be able to buy that new outfit he'd been eyeing, but he could buy out ten whole stores if he wanted too! 

Asmo always got offers around this time of year, and it wasn't his first time with wealthier demons, but it still made him giddy seeing the amount and the name of someone he trusted on his screen.  Speaking of Diavolo-

A small trill left Asmo as two large hands caged him in on either side.  The prince was trying to keep himself composed, but Asmo knew better. He could see the hardness straining against his thigh. He was being polite, for now, but Asmo would get him to unravel soon enough.

"You look very tempting right now."

The words caught in his throat, and Asmo couldn't help but grin. 

"Do I?" he asked innocently. He couldn't help but laugh as the way Diavolo's pupils widened. Asmo was in control now, every card was in his hand. "Don't worry my lord, you'll be getting a taste, it's what you're paying for after all." 

"I'm paying for more than a taste," Diavolo frowned as Asmo slipped out from between his arms. 

He walked over to the bag he brought with him and started to go through it, laying each item out for the prince to peruse.  

"You certainly are," and if it were any other time Asmo would have let this man fuck him for free, "And I'm going to make sure you get your money's worth."

He watched as Diavolo's eyes scanned carefully over the items. Based on his reactions Asmo could craft the perfect experience for him, and they were both going to get their fill. Some of the items he lingered on were a surprise to Asmo, and others were completely unexpected. Whatever the case, Diavolo was his customer today, and he was going to get exactly what he paid for. 

***

Legs shaking and covered in cum, Asmo let out another whine as Diavolo thrust into him yet again. His back ached delightfully so from remaining arched for so long. His front was pressed down into the plush mattress below him. Those large hands gripped at his hips and every touch felt like fire against his skin. One hand snaked down in between his legs to touch and grope at anything he could. Diavolo was a large man, and his length left no part of Asmo untouched. His thrusts carried the perfect amount of force and left Asmodeus in a state of nothing but bliss. His breath hitched once more as the demon prince licked a stripe up his neck. 

"You feel wonderful," he groaned, "I am impressed you can take me, tiny as you are."

"That's what you wanted right?" Asmo purred. A sharp gasp left him, "You picked me because I'm so cute and tiny, and you wanted to breed me with that giant-"

Asmo let out another squeal as Diavolo hit  a particularly delicious spot within him. He squeezed around the demon prince as another load filled him once more. His legs were shaking once again, but that was fine, he didn't need to use them anyways. Diavolo lifted him without issue, and the next thing Asmo knew, he was straddling Diavolo's hips, both of them repositioned on the bed.

"I want to see how I fill you from this angle," the demon prince growled, pressing a hand against his abdomen.

Asmo couldn't help but let out a whimper. He felt amazing. Being a favorite had perks, and Asmo wanted to continue to stay in favor. Walking wasn’t going to be possible for days, and he’d get a free pass from attending classes while he recovered since it was the prince himself who was the cause of his ailment. Like many royals, Lord Diavolo took care of his favorite little playmates, and Asmodeus was one of his favorites, if not his top choice. He would be fed in the morning too and given as much care as he needed. The payment was nice, but to receive pleasure along with it? Now that was his real reward.

[bettermiya]

Fox & Mouse.

Summary: After all those year of spending time in Miyagi and Aoba Johsai, you end up moving to Hyogo. Broadcast Club Member!Antique Shop Kid!Fem!Reader

Shipping: Suna Rintarou x Fem!Reader, IwaOi, Tsukkiyama if you squint.

Trigger Warnings: bullying against an unnamed character, attempted sexual assault that gets swiftly punished against the reader, and violence.

WC: 1.7k

[ Middle School ]

You bring a camera to an exhibition game at Kitagawa Daiichi's volleyball club. Although your senpai asked you to assist him, you're not thrilled about the task. You want to trudge through the woods with your friends in search of a true story, such as a murderous ghost or a serial killer, not trapped getting the best angle of a bunch of sweaty boys.

Nonetheless, it's easy to blend in with these girls who scream for Oikawa Tooru. You appreciate them. There's no other way to get good material. How will you get candid expressions if you don't use the ideal environment, where everyone practically vibrates with energy?

You take multiple shots to get the perfect set of photos. The barest gleam of Iwaizumi-senpai’s smile as his captain leaps for a devastating jump-serve. Kindaichi’s fierce gaze as he blocks some poor first years. The laughter, camaraderie, and pure friendship that you may have wished you had if it hadn't been your duty to document it. It occurred to you that you may have fallen in love with the game at the time, even if you weren't aware of it.

Their resolve was as firm as the wood that supported the countertop of your family's antique shop. The movement is as refined as the masters who meticulously crafted each angle.

Volleyball isn't something you're particularly familiar with, but as an outside observer, you hope to capture a figment of that emotion. Keep your fingers steady and your hands sure as you trace each moment like a lover's caress before you must leave. When the match is over, you walk out like you came in--without a desire for someone to notice.

The truth is someone does notice you. Tyki hobbles towards you with a pencil behind his ear, a notebook in hand, and clumps of leaves in his hair. “Thank you so much!” A familiar trio of broadcasting club members run behind him.

“You needed me.”

[ Highschool - 1st Year ]

Aoba Johsai doesn’t have a manager, and it still doesn’t. You're not friends with Oikawa Tooru, but he lets you stay in the gym's shadows. If someone is there, he's being watched. It feels somewhat like absolution to realize that another person exists between the thump of the ball and the pant of pain, witnessing him in the dark while he destroys himself.

( You’d mentioned in passing to him that your family's house wasn't the best, that it alternated between oppressive silence and too much noise. He looked thoughtful before making a simple offer: you can stay after practice with him as long as you help him get clean recordings for matches. )

If you were braver, you would tell Iwaizumi. The Iwaizumi that bought you a soda and asked for a picture of his best friend. While working on the innards of an old clock, you wish you were the kind of girl who could fend off the monster that appears to be pursuing his footsteps. The slightest tension in your resolve causes the clock to chime.

You both look up, startled, and instinctively, you toss the water bottle he had left by your side at him. He gives you the side eye, but he drinks anyway.

You think it's more for you than for him.

You think it’s more for Iwaizumi than for him.

Your jaw moves and you try to find the right words; the story continues as if by magic. Oikawa's well-known knight begins yelling when the doors fly open. The captain of Seijoh starts pleading and you can't run while holding the rusted gears on your lap.

Cinderella is always found.

A promise. A threat. An ending.

What happens to the mouse when the princess is whisked away to her castle?

[ Highschool - 2nd Year ]

If the story is kind, the mouse is brought along to live with the princess. If the story is unkind, the mouse is left behind at the stepmother’s manor. In actuality, the narrative is neither kind nor unkind. When Tyki finally gets chastised by the supervising teacher for shirking his duties after years of chasing specters, you bow before Iwaizumi and Oikawa and inform them that the original newspaper club member will report on them. Oikawa calls it a betrayal, while Iwaizumi calls him an idiot.

A head pat and a milk bun that has spent the entire day being shoved into a jacket are your reward for your hard work. You offer the milk bun to one of Oikawa's admirers to raise money for your efforts to bring Tsukishima another dinosaur antique. Yamaguchi pleads with you to stop funding his friend's addiction. You apologize, but you’re proud of your work.

The next order of business is the worst part. After you tell Iwaizumi and Oikawa that you're leaving the club, and Tsukishima that you'll have to ship his antique to his house, you confess to Tyki that you're leaving Miyagi. Your grandfather wishes to enrich your experience because he believes there is more to the world than this run-down town.

He cries for you. He sobs for the memories in this small room where you spent years keeping records of others. You seem to have a bad habit of disappearing.

The clock strikes twelve.  

The mouse is just a mouse.

[ Highschool – 3rd Year. ]

Even though foxes are known for eating mice, you choose to take over as Inarizaki's third-year manager, a difficult position to obtain. Many girls wanted to be even closer to the Miya twins. You don't blame them because you've been filming monsters for years. You've seen first-hand how stunning they can be when they're in their element.

Fortunately, you have no intention of turning a beast into a prince, but you do want to understand them. The time you spent with Aoba Johsai's volleyball club was insufficient. More resplendencies can be captured with a camera in your hand if you have the knowledge to take the right angle.

Curiosity has never killed your species. If you kept staring at the dark-haired boy who became rigid from the attention, there might be a first time. Making your case to Suna Rintarou wasn't easy because, while Atsumu Miya is the one who openly desired to devote his entire life to the altar of volleyball, you suspect that behind those bored eyes, there is a similar passion. The only thing that convinces him is your willingness to sell your clock tool kit to get him a better cellphone.

He sobs in excitement while repeatedly rotating the object in his hands. You notice they’ve developed calluses through the repetition of manual labor rather than through the dedication required of a sport. You're starting to get the sickening feeling that, eventually, you would have sold your clock tool kit just to please him. 

It’s something you need to squash down. Oikawa Tooru only ever allowed you in his presence since you didn't have the same level of affection for him as the rest. You’re not sure if it's pity, kindness, or a vague sense of 'I'm curious to see how this will go,' but finally, finally, he looks at you like you’re worth his time. Did Cinderella ever need anything other than her beauty and kindness to entice her prince? Or was there dedication hidden in that first pink dress, torn apart by her stepmother and sisters? While you’re not sure you have either, the sacrifice must be worth it.

This is the first time you've wanted so desperately that you've risked something for your wish.

The beginnings weeks as a manager are difficult; nonetheless, you are rewarded by watching them. You don't mind if Inarizaki's starters keep their distance because their commitment inspires you to work harder. Both your videography and photography evolve leaps and bounds during this first stint.  

You smile a little more. You talk like you used to in the broadcasting club about leaping over wire fences with your senpai. He had an uneasy feeling that something sinister was going on at Aoba Johsai, and he was going to break the story. Because it was only a few upperclassmen who were messing with Kyoutani, you both ended up snitching to Oikawa.

You leave out the darker part. Oikawa bullied them in a slow, insidious way, not with his fists, but by convincing the rest of his year to ignore these upperclassmen and pretend they didn't exist. Though Iwaizumi eventually put a stop to his worst antics, the memory of how easily a boy could turn on you sticks with you.

Perhaps that's why, for a split second, you hesitated when one of the second-year benchwarmers wrapped a strong, bruising hand around your wrist. You knew his intention was the supply closet behind the gym. All you could think about was you or him, you or him, you or him.

Who would they believe?

“Oh, you want to go into the supply closet? Okay, we’ll go.”

Suna is a blur of speed as he drags the other boy inside. You're sitting against a tree trunk, listening to the impact of each punch along with deciding how to spin it so Inarizaki doesn't expel him. Finally, you decide that Atsumu would cover for his friend. You have faith in that much.

( "I'm not sure what ya' mean…. Suna was practicing with me and Samu all night." He nods. "Ask anyone on the team. They were all there." )

When he comes out, he sits farther away from you, but close enough to show you the photos he's taken of his victim's bruised and battered body. "I would protect you," he says, his gaze falling to the spot where you were clutching your wrist. “I hope this is enough proof.” Those bloody knuckles you notice when you look back are a promise.

He's watching you as much as you watch him.

You think you've been in this circumstance before. A volleyball is hurtling towards you, and its path is directly in line to your face and Suna's bag. He loves that phone more than he loves his own life, so you don’t dodge.

There is a lot of yelling. You pull out your own phone with trembling fingers and laugh as you record a video, "Hey, Iwaizumi-senpai, remember that time I got hit with a ball back at Kitagawa Daiichi? It happened again."

"What da ya' mean this is yer second time?!" screams Atsumu.

Suna hauls you to the nurse's office by the scruff. He lectures you the entire way in the same way one might speak to a far too rambunctious pet. You turn one of your smiles towards him and the tips of his ears go red.

Suna is kissing you while holding your hand, and his second button is intertwined between your fingers. As you carefully run your tongue over his lower lip, Sakura blossoms have floated down to caress your hair. You run your fingers through his dark tresses. There are strong fingers that dig into your hips that promise more one day.

The confession had gone like this:

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you want a boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

[ Author's Note: On graduation day at junior high or high schools, a graduating male student would give their second button to someone they like. It's the one closest to their heart. ]

[bloodofthefates]

x. continued from here with @lovehungered

Unstructured periods of time weren’t particularly Nami’s forte, especially when she was left alone and preoccupied with thoughts about how a certain blonde chef was fairing on his ambitious dinner date every time she tried and failed to start a task. Going through her notes and logs had been too tedious, everytime she turned a page she’d already forgotten her place, ending up ten steps back from where she’d started. She had no interest in making her way to the galley that resembled a ghost town and she was miserable at staying in any one place for too long. Nami’s own bunk quarters felt cramped and suffocating but being topside felt far too vast and isolating. She wasn’t sure how Zoro managed it, his ability to remain so stationary at any given time that he could fall asleep on just about every surface aboard the ship but moored to the docks, Nami felt like she was crawling out of her own skin.

She’d gotten the idea in her head, to wander about further inland as the others had but she hadn’t expected to end up in the last place she’d wanted to be when realizing it was exactly where Sanji had chosen to take up a room for the night. Had his dinner proposition all been a ruse? Was that merely his excuse for getting the other beautiful woman in bed with him in a rented out room for the night in wanting to keep the rest of his meddling crew’s curiosity at bay? Sanji was a man after all, she couldn’t fault him for his urges or desires and yet she was instantly fuming the second she gave any thought to the way their acquaintance had smiled back at him as if no one else around them had existed.

With less than good intentions in mind and consoling herself that she was merely making sure the pair were in fact out somewhere keeping true to their word over dinner, Nami managed to flirt her way past the front desk with no need for anything beyond information regarding room number; she wasn’t in the business of needing keys. Casually strolling up to the door, Nami knocked softly several times, appearing to wait patiently and politely before putting her ear up to the door in hopes of hearing nothing at all. The silence on the other side confirmed the utter foolishness of her actions, but she couldn’t ignore the way her heart still felt like it was beating out of her chest as if she were about to get caught at any moment. Uncaring for the consequences, she pulled a lock pick set from her bag and went to work on the rudimentary lock set into the handle making quick work of it as it clocked open and she pushed the door to Sanji’s room open effortlessly.

It was just as empty as it had sounded from the other side but the dim lighting in combination with the loneliness that had followed her from the ship made her little victory sour with hollowness. If Sanji wasn’t here, then he was still out to dinner or worse; they’d gone back to her place. Deciding to make herself at home until he returned, why she couldn’t be sure. She sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, trying to grasp onto her earlier anger and jealousy but found both coming up as empty as the room around her. Time ticked by and tiredness began to set in, though she hadn’t meant to fall asleep directly in his bed. The hour was later than she’d expected and the next thing she remembered was waking up to find a heavy cover laid overtop of her and groggy awareness that someone else was in the room with her.

Sitting up suddenly with a start, she calmed down as she came more to consciousness only to realize Sanji had returned after all and had taken up residence on the small couch at the end of the bed. Seeing his body contorted in what must’ve been clearly uncomfortable angles given his size and the space, she couldn’t help but smile sleepily to herself before pulling the covers back and tiptoeing out of bed. Hesitantly, she lingered just above where Sanji tried to rest, noting his arm thrown over his forehead in an attempt to block out the last of the dim lighting in the room that had accidentally been left on. Moving to douse what light remained, Nami knelt down and reached a hand out to gently grasp Sanji’s shoulder as she shook him once and then twice more in an attempt to wake him slowly and without alarm.

“Come to bed? You’ll be more… comfortable.” She whispered, her words coming out as more of an unsure question than a command and her breath just as shaky and uncertain as she drew her hand back realizing it was still resting on his shoulder uninvited.

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 11.

Word count: 3578 Warnings: violence A/N: sorry guys i accidentally posted it together with the previous chapter because i haven't touched this fic for three months

The ground in the valley was slick with waste and dirt; once Vince slipped and fell, but didn’t stop, wiping his hands on his shirt on the move. Away, away from the bar, from the cruel captain and his loyal first mate, from the jeers and the grins of the pirates, from unwanted glances and touches, from the cramped, crowded ship. He could be caught, of course, but- no, away with anxious thoughts, not now, not now, just run, run, as long as you can, turn left here, then right here, where are you going? doesn’t matter, just go, go, go. Find a place to hide. The ship sets sail in the morning. Sixx won’t postpone it just because of you, he seemed to be in a hurry.

But Vince had to find shelter first, and fast. It wouldn’t take Nikki long to notice his absence, and he would hardly let him escape easily – he seemed really hung up on keeping him, and not just due to the desire of the flesh. Maybe Vince would come across an abandoned hut, or a dark basement where no one but rats lived, or even a barn whose owner wouldn’t check up on until morning? Fool, these were places Nikki would check first! Then where else to go? Could he just knock on the first door and ask for shelter? Did the news spread fast enough that the residents would be aware of the potential reward they could get for his capture?

Deep in thought, Vince turned another corner and crashed into someone with so much force they both fell to the ground. Pain flashed in his scraped elbows, but just for a second: he had to run, and was now losing precious time. Murmuring apologies, he jumped on his feet and was about to dart off again when a heavy hand landed on his forearm, holding him back.

“Ain’t you the new kitchen boy?” Vince heard, and his stomach sank. That was someone from the Shout. “Whatcha doing here?”

The dim moonlight obscured more than revealed, but Vince could still distinguish the red tint to the long, flowing hair, and a sharp nose on a chiseled-out, thin-featured face. He had seen him on the Shout, usually at the helm, always shying away from big gatherings, rarely talking and never smiling or laughing. The guy didn’t look like other pirates – too many teeth, too few scars – and had a gaze of a hounded animal, but he was part of the crew nevertheless and could ruin Vince’s only chance to escape.

“Let me go,” Vince hissed, jamming his fingers into the ginger’s palm, trying to loosen his grip. “Let me go, or I swear to God-“

“You ain’t supposed to be here,” the man narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening. “Alone, at least.”

“You don’t fucking say,” Vince spat back, twisting his arm frantically. When had he become so crass, a thought flashed through his mind, but just for an instant. And as seconds passed and the ginger kept digging his damn strong fingers into Vince’s forearm, he realized the pirate wasn’t on his side. He wasn’t going to peacefully let him go, promptly forget their meeting and go his own way. What he was going to do, though, is immediately rat him out to Nikki at best and drag him back to the Shout himself at worst.

Vince did not have a plan B for that. He didn’t even have a plan, per se, more an irrational emotional urge, but it didn’t matter now. He just lost his only chance to escape.

Unless the guy couldn’t come back to Nikki, of course.

When Vince’s fist rammed right into his gut, the ginger gasped and bent over in pain but still didn’t release his grip. Vince shook his arm violently, at the same time trying to kick the pirate in the crotch, but his fingers, against all reason, kept digging into Vince’s skin with stubborn tenacity. He wasn’t going to let him go easily. One hit wasn’t enough.

Vince dealt another one, this time to the head. At the last moment the guy staggered back – he did release Vince, but the blow intended to break his nose just grazed his cheekbone, and the next thing Vince knew the ginger’s hand shot towards his shoulder and clasped it viciously. Of course, it was the wounded one; and, of course, it hurt like hell.

Vince groaned as the pirate’s fingers dug into his wound that had barely closed and was still inflamed. He swayed back, trying to break out of the grip, but the man held onto it like his life depended on it. It was, in a way, because Vince wasn’t letting him get out of this alive. Before he would never have the gut to kill a man – now, though, now he wanted it more than anything else. And yet he couldn’t – the small advantage that he had in the beginning now disappeared. The man kept digging his fingers deeper in Vince’s flesh, sending waves of pain through his arm and torso, and Vince could do nothing but grasp at his hand and hiss in pain. He didn’t notice the man was pushing him backwards until his back hit the wall.

“Now. Calm. The fuck. Down,” the man said, “and listen to me.”

Vince couldn’t care less. The man was hurting him and keeping him from escaping the Shout. Neither of this motivated to listen to him, but Vince didn’t really have a choice.

So he rose on his tiptoes and spat the ginger in the face.

“What’s there to talk about?” he said coarsely. “Go, bring me back to the captain. He’ll pat you on the head for it.”

The pirate slowly wiped the spit off his cheek.

“Were I less patient, you’d get your ass kicked for that,” he said. Vince hoped he’d get angry and do something stupid, but the pirate remained calm and collected. “The guys were right – you truly have no self-preservation instinct whatsoever. I did enjoy it when your tray made an acquaintance with Tommy’s head, though. He deserved it.”

“Empty talk,” Vince shot at him. “You’re just buying time until Nikki arrives.”

“What?” the pirate frowned. “You think I’m holding you here on his behalf? Oh, boy - if I wanted to turn you in, you’d already be in Nikki’s loving embrace. Now, can I as you to not smack me in the face again if I let you go? We gotta talk.”

Though the ginger asked, he didn’t wait for Vince’s reply: simply released him and stepped back. Vince looked down onto his shirt and winced: under pressure the wound opened again, staining the fabric with blood, dark-brown in the silver light of the moon. Damn, he didn’t even get one day in a clean shirt. He highly doubted Mick would fetch one more for him – it didn’t seem like the old pirate had any more for himself, let alone Vince.

“Say what you want and fuck off. I don’t have much time.”

“I see you’ve already learned the vocabulary,” the pirate laughed, but then again turned serious. “Cutting to the chase then. You ain’t gonna get away from Nikki like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You really think he would just let you run away just like that?” The pirate tilted his head, a condescending note in his voice. “You really believe he would be careless enough to let you get away from him, and so easily at that? He’s smarter than he looks – than he acts, even. He’s got eyes and ears all over this town. You wouldn’t be able to spit on the ground without him learning in a matter of minutes.”

Well, Vince suspected this all along. Maybe that’s why he was so hesitant to make an escape and only a whiplash of emotion and three shots of vodka got him running like a hare in a forest fire.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, examining the pirate’s face. How could Vince know that Nikki hadn’t sent him to fully discourage him from running away? If the man was at least half as smart as the ginger painted him to be, he could come up with that very easily.

“Because I’ve been there,” the man replied, and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if trying to contain an emotion. “I’ve tried that. And, as you can see, failed.”

Vince looked long and hard into his eyes, but couldn’t find any traces of deception. Not that he was very good at reading people, but lies always find a way to betray the liar, right?

“You don’t believe me,” the pirate said. “It’s natural. You would be an idiot if you did. Let me show you something.”

He turned his back to Vince and pulled up his shirt. Vince opened his mouth to protest, but the moonlight fell on the guy’s back, and he swallowed all the words hanging on the tip of his tongue.

His back was ravaged. Multiple scars covered it from neck to waist. They crossed and overlapped each other, creating complex patterns, some white and some red, like a child’s painting. The dead flesh at the edges was rough and uneven, like torn fabric, only it wasn’t fabric – it was human skin. When the man shivered in the chilly night air, his muscles tensed up and the scars shifted, terrifyingly mesmerizing.

“What is this?” Vince asked, his voice trembling.

“A whip with a metal hook at the end of it.” The pirate let his shirt down and turned back to Vince. “A very exquisite torture device, I tell you – it won’t kill you, oh no, but you’ll carry a reminder of it until your dying day. The deck was slippery from my blood. If not for Izzy… oh, nevermind.”

“Were you too?..” Vince mumbled. Of course, he must have been not the only one Nikki took a shine to, and this man’s features surely were too refined for a regular pirate. Another toy of Nikki’s that he played with for a while and then threw away? Or was it still going on between them? And did the same fate await Vince?

“Nikki’s fucktoy?” the pirate raised his eyebrow. Vince winced – he was right, but saying it out loud hit harder. “No, thank God. I guess I’m not his type. I’m a sailing master.”

Vince wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to feel relief or worry. So he couldn’t expect that Nikki would let him go when he got tired of him, but at the same time it took away his hope – this guy had been through it and was still alive, so I might make it too.

“Then why did you try to leave?”

“The Shout’s crew kidnapped me,” the pirate said, “when they attacked the ship I had been sailing on, the Guns n’ Roses – a fine girl, if a bit shabby, and the crew was great. But Shout needed a sailing master – we’re quite a hassle to hire, it’s a well-paid job, and they didn’t want to pay. I’m as much of a prisoner as you are – well, besides having to warm Nikki’s bed. That’s why I wanted to warn ya.”

“An interesting way of hiring crew,” Vince murmured. “Has the rest of it been kidnapped too?”

“Not that I know of,” the ginger shrugged. “It’s the two of us. I’m Axl, by the way. Axl Rose.” He offered Vince his hand. Vince hesitantly shook it.

“Vince Wharton,” he said. “Also known as ‘the princess’ and ‘the kitchen boy’. Would say I’m pleased to meet you were we in different circumstances.”

Axl – another weird name – snorted.

“It’s mutual. Now, I’m not gonna hold you back anymore. If you are still keen on leaving, do so. I wouldn’t recommend it, though. You still have time to return and act like nothing happened.”

Axl stepped back and turned to leave when Vince grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt.

“How long have you been on the Shout?”

“Three years already,” he saw Vince’s eyes widen and added, “you get used to everything eventually. But I’m not done yet. I’m still waiting for the moment.”

Three years, Vince thought, horrified, and with no chance to escape. And then a thought hit him - Axl might have survived three years on the Shout, but he wasn’t an object of captain’s unhealthy attention, and had useful skills that might have held Nikki’s heavy hand back. Vince wouldn’t hold on for so long. He was pretty sure living like these past two days would do him in in a couple of months. Half a year if he stops talking back.

“Then how come you’re here alone? Why didn’t he lock you up?” he asked Axl. He still didn’t trust him, although seeing Axl’s scars almost convinced him the guy was telling the truth. He could imagine Nikki ordering to carry out such a cruel punishment and enjoying it very easily, though.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Axl said with irritation. “I won’t get too far even if I try. Neither will you. See you on the Shout – I’m pretty sure you’ll come back, willingly or not.”

He turned away from Vince and disappeared in one of the dark back alleys so swiftly Vince wondered if he was a product of his spiraling imagination. But the blood on his shirt from where Axl’s sharp nails dug into his wound proved the encounter was real. Oh how Vince wished it wasn’t, because it took away the last shreds of hope that he preserved so dearly and carefully. There was no escape, Axl basically told him. And there was a whip with a metal hook at the end of it, tearing into the flesh of those who attempted it.

Axl hadn’t given up, though. He said it himself. He was still looking for an occasion, just being more careful about it. He was allowed to wander the streets alone, after all, instead of being locked up in the hold. That meant Nikki came to somewhat trust him.

Maybe Vince could build up that trust too – and wait for a good opportunity while doing it. He just needed patience – oh, a lot of patience.

Vince turned back and hurried down the street to the pub.

***

“Here you are!” Nikki exclaimed loudly when Vince, trying hard not to pant, showed up at the door. “And I was already thinking of looking for you! Where’ve you been?”

“In the toilet,” Vince tried to replicate a surprise frown on his face.

“For so long?” Nikki frowned, and a chill ran down Vince’s spine. Nikki seemed drunk, but not to the point of idiocy, apparently. “I’ve downed two mugs of beer while you were away.”

“I, um,” Vince stammered, the vision of Axl’s bare back coming up in front of his eyes, “I had some difficulties. Do you want details?”

“Ew,” Nikki wrinkled his nose, “no, thanks. I’m into a lot of things, but this is not one of them. You missed all the fun, though. We’re going back to the ship.”

“Already?” Vince recalled the unfinished action in the bathhouse. Would Nikki want to finish what he started once on the ship?

“Yes. We set sail tomorrow morning. Gotta be in shape.” Nikki got up, helped by Chris, and turned to him. “It was nice to have a drink with you, buddy. Hope to see you again soon.”

They shook hands.

“Goodbye, Sixx,” Chris said. “And you, Vinnie,” he suddenly added, taking Vince by surprise. “It was a delight to meet you. Treat him well, Sixx,” he pointed at the captain, “or I will take him away from you!”

“Sure, sure,” Nikki laughed and grasped Vince’s forearm, pulling him towards the door. He was walking unsteadily and held onto Vince’s arm to keep balance, but wasn’t flat out drunk like Vince hoped he would be. Vince caught the last look of the room – he had a feeling it’ll be a long time before he attends such establishments again – when the closing door cut off the light from the tavern and they ended up in a dark street.

“Wait for me here, gotta take a piss,” Nikki released Vince’s arm and stumbled to the outhouse. But when he opened the door, the odor made him stagger back and cover his nose in disgust.

“Oh lord. Is that your doing?” He slammed the door shut. “I’d rather piss right here.” Which he promptly did onto the wall of the bar right next to Vince’s stain.

“No, it was like that already,” Vince protested, protecting his pride.

“Uh-huh,” Nikki pulled his pants up and grabbed Vince’s forearm again. “Onwards, my trusty steed. Or, rather, stubborn donkey.” He pinched Vince’s cheek and laughed, pulling him forward.

Vince had no other choice but to follow him. When he looked back at the pub, he thought he noticed a glimpse of ginger in the backstreet leading away from it.

When they returned to the ship, it was almost completely deserted, save for the two guards on deck looking miserable as ever. The rest of the pirates seemingly still hadn’t returned, jumping at the opportunity to spend time on solid land and in a company of loose women. To Vince’s surprise, he saw Axl sitting on the deck with a mug of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He turned his head towards the noise, nodded to Nikki, and completely ignored Vince. It rubbed him the wrong way, but it was probably better for them to keep their connection unknown to the others.

They tumbled into the captain’s cabin, almost completely dark inside, with only faint moonlight finding its way in through the porthole, and made their way to the bed, knocking down a chair and almost trapping on the carpet on their way. But finally Nikki sprawled on the sheets with a content sigh.

Vince tried to back off quietly, but Nikki grabbed his arm tighter when he felt it sliding out of his grasp. Vince bit his lip in disappointment – he hoped Nikki would be too drunk to follow through with his promise.

“Help me undress,” Nikki said coarsely, pulling Vince closer to the bed. “My boots. Take them off.”

Vince winced, hoping that it was hard to see in the dark, but obeyed. He found Nikki’s boots by touch and pulled them off. Next came the jacket and the shirt. Vince spent too long folding them and setting them neatly on the standing chair in a futile effort to put off what was inevitably coming next. Nikki didn’t hurry him – until, apparently, he got tired of waiting, grabbed Vince’s arm and pulled him onto the bed with such strength Vince didn’t manage to retain balance and fell onto the sheets, right next to Nikki’s body.

Nikki’s other hand wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer.

“Did you think I forgot what you owe me?” he whispered in Vince’s ear. Vince’s stomach sank.

“No,” he murmured, battling an intense desire to push Nikki away. Patience, he reminded himself. Patience.

“Yes, you did,” Nikki laughed, breathing hot air reeking of beer on Vince’s face. “But I don’t forget, Vinnie. Never. Remember that. But… tonight you’re lucky – I’m too tired to give you the treatment your pretty ass begs for. Tomorrow… we’ll see.” He leaned back onto the pillows with a sigh. “Have to say, though – you’ve entertained me plenty today, and your behavior was decent. I won’t forget that either. Now,” he let go of Vince’s arm and pushed him away, “leave me alone.”

Vince was only glad to do so, but when he was already by the door he remembered something.

“Sir?” he called with uncertainty. The word grated on his tongue, but he didn’t know what other word to call Nikki - using his name would be too audacious, and he didn’t want to anger him.

“What?”

“The collar. Will you take it off? You said it’s only for this time.”

“I said that?” Nikki replied lazily. “Don’t recall that. Anyway, even if I did – I like it there. It looks good on your neck. Reminds everyone who you belong to. No, don’t even start! It stays. Now – get the fuck outta here before I change my mind!”

Hearing the familiar irritation in his voice, Vince swallowed a protest and left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him. Once outside, he inhaled the fresh night air. The collar wasn’t tight enough to inhibit his breathing, but its mere presence made Vince’s breath shallower, constantly urging him to tug at it. And no matter how long Vince wore it, it never warmed from his skin, its cold touch always reminding him of its presence.

Vince slapped himself on the hand that unconsciously reached out to tug at the collar again and headed to the hatch on the other side of the ship. Axl was still sitting on the deck in the same position, only without the cigarette now. Upon seeing Vince he made a barely noticeable nod in his direction and turned away. Vince nodded back.

Mick was absent, and the galley was completely dark. Vince found his way blindly across the room and collapsed onto his sleeping place. For a while the memories of this busy day clouded his mind, but not for long, and soon he fell into deep and dreamless sleep.