#their dialogue is so expressive and full of character

[sskk-manifesto]

Bungou Stray Dogs: Dead Apple and how “ability users” (opposite to “normal people”) learning to accept themselves through the acceptance of their own abilities is a queer metaphor of acceptance of own's sexual orientation and gender: an essay by me

[commanderfreddy]

people are discoursing about the laios and shiro fight bc that was always going to happen but i do hope that wave crests quickly and we can all come to see it as what it is: literally one of the best written fights between two people who are both entirely justified in their actions and acting without any malice or cruelty of all time

[cursezoroark]

confrontation

[windienine]

please understand that while loïc was not strictly constructed in a lab for anyone but his creator, i sometimes reopen soulsov just to look at his sprites some more

[thewirewitch]

Leaving off my writing in a part that I wanted to get to so that I have motivation to continue writing the next day.

My evil plan for future me mwah ha ha >:)

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

Another batch or Mr. Puzzles quick sketches. I kept forgetting to draw his side pocket in the last couple ones. Random character featured in the little comic-ish Live Interview is some version of doodlesona. Can’t guarantee the dialogue will be believable/sound in character for Puzzles because honestly I’m still working on understanding his talking style and when he sarcastically jokes around or when he chooses to be serious and drop performance act. But in the off chance you wanna read it goes from left to right with reading

[moodr1ng]

hmm after putting a couple scenes from my script into renpy with some photos as background stand-ins + the need for some cgs here and there, i def think it could work as a vn.. i think ill finish my script before i start more seriously working on it just to be sure everything would work as i want, but i think actually if i include a little bit of narration here and there (theres technically narration in my script, though its meant to describe the panels and not to actually be narration, but some v light narration in a vn could work) itd be pretty solid i think 🤔 and itd allow me to include even more dialogue LOL which ive been making efforts to reduce but i definitely could stand to put in more. both carié isle and linnion/kèravie as a whole have a tonnn of worldbuilding where i kinda had to reduce exposition to a minimum for a comic medium. but in a vn the characters could do a lot more talking about this stuff. also i had decided to make the comic black & white bc full color is too hard for a comic for me but for a vn i would get to make it full color :)

[sysig]

The return of all time <3 (Patreon)

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Sacrifice

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Back in the light world, Asgore is still dealing with the heartache of the sacrifice, even months later. Mayor Holiday is still set on moving ahead, though!

Yay, it's nice to finally get back to some light world characters here! More with the Dreemurr family will be coming along soon!

Alt text for these pages under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: a landscape shot of the Holiday house and surrounding garden, with Rudy and Asgore outside the fence and hollybush hedge. The Delta Rune is emblazoned over the door and spiky snowflakes decorate the roof and fence.  Asgore is walking by with a wheelbarrow. Rudy: “Asgore, you old goat! Been way too long!” 

Panel 2: A closer shot of the two men- Rudy is slim and dressed in a crisp tunic, Asgore larger and wearing slouchy overalls. Asgore: “Howdy Rudy. You’re looking well!” Rudy, hand on his knee, bends over to hack and cough. Rudy: “Oh y’know… well enough, I guess! How’s business?” 

Panel 3: Asgore looks down,ruefully scratching the back of his head. His wheelbarrow is full of droopy plants, ready for planting. “Could be better… Those soldiers hassle me almost daily. But, I’ve gotten used to it, so it’s all right.” 

Panel 4: Rudy puts a comforting hand on Asgore’s shoulder. “Aww hey, you can complain to me any time…�� he says. Asgore doesn’t avoid the touch but he doesn’t seem comforted. 

Page 2 Panel 1: close up on Rudy, who jerks his head to look as far behind him the door of the Holiday house opens to show the silhouette of a woman in a long dress. 

Panel 2: Rudy: “But uhh, I’ll let Carol here say her piece first. See you, Asgore!” He waves and pushes the gate open to go back to the house. Asgore looks taken aback. 

Panel 3: A textless landscape shot of the front of the yard. Rudy, halfway back to the house, turns to look behind him as Carol comes out of the large Holiday gate to meet Asgore, who is hunched in a half-bow with his hand over his heart. 

Panel 4: Asgore: “Howdy, Mayor Holiday.” He doesn’t look up at her, and we see only the back of her head, not her face. Carol: “Good day, Asgore. I appreciate you stopping by, as I wanted to inform you personally.” 

Panel 5: Carol leans into Asgore’s space, and he leans away, cowed. Neither of their eyes are visible, but we see their mouths: hers stern, his distressed. Carol: “We will be conducting the Ritual again in three month’s time, at the harvest moon. You and Toriel’s presence is required.”

Panel 6: Bust shot of Asgore, dismayed. “A…Again? You’ve… found another one?” His hand is still protectively over his heart. 

Page 3:  Panel 1: We see Carol’s face for the first time: she is severe looking, with medium length hair, a stiff dress, and a choker necklace and ornate belt. Her hand is also over her heart, though more like a formal salute. “I have tasked QC with obtaining the child.” 

Panel 2: Carol’s speech bubble continues as narration. “She’s been quite diligent in her duties, and believes we now have one open to the concept of self sacrifice.” The scene shown is QC- a friendly, soft woman with wildly curly hair- appearing to be at a street market. She is speaking to a child with a bandana neck scarf (Clover, from UT Yellow), but there’s no dialogue. 

Panel 3: Another shot of Carol in profile, gaze fixed intensely ahead. “With the Ritual rites already perfected, this time we will be successful.” 

Panel 4: A wide shot of Asgore, hunched over his wheelbarrow of wilty plant starts and flowers. There’s no dialogue. His expression is despondent. 

Panel 5: Carol: “Is there something you’re withholding, Asgore?” Asgore: “No. We’ll be there.” We don’t see his expression. Her hands are folded sternly in front of her. 

Panel 6: She moves once again into his space, pushing past the wheelbarrow to lean in. “I know that you two have been avoiding us in public since the last Ritual.”  Asgore cringes away like a dog that’s been scolded. 

Page 4: Panel 1: Carol continues. “Toriel has hardly spoken a word to me since then. I trust there is an explanation?” 

Panel 2: Asgore wrings his hands in front of him. His speech bubble covers up his eyes, but his mouth is downturned. “Carol… Toriel avoids you so much because she respects you. She does not want a confrontation.”

Panel 3: Carol, her expression still severe, almost angry. “A confrontation?” 

Panel 4: Asgore, still cringing and looking down: “I don’t know.. if I can explain just how badly losing Kris hurt.” 

Panel 5: His narration continues from the previous panel. “She’d be so cross if I knew I said this, but…” We see the past, Toriel kneeling and clutching the blankets of an empty bed, crying hard. Asgore kneels beside her, holding her shoulders. He’s crying too, unable to comfort her. “The night of the sacrifice, when we got home… Toriel collapsed and wept so long and hard I was afraid her heart would simply stop.” 

Panel 6: Sill the past with present Asgore’s narration over the top. “And then, once Asriel left too… Both of our children were gone.” Left to right, in the interior of the Dreemur’s house, Asgore stands dismayed as an unhappy Toriel rushes after Asriel, who is walking out the door with a bag on his shoulder. He’s looking back but is clearly set on leaving. 

Page 5 Panel 1: Back in the present, Asgore is even more hunched in on himself, hugging his fists to his chest with his expression drawn tight and sad. “I know Toriel acts as though she is fine, but that’s simply because she is stronger than I am. The tension between us is so terrible that I’m afraid she’d leave me if she had somewhere to go!” 

Panel 2: Close on his distressed, panicky face, looking away from the confrontation. “And part of me can’t help wondering… w-what if we were…”

Panel 3: Carol jabs a finger in Asgore’s face. “We. WILL. Be rewarded for our sacrifices. Of this I am CERTAIN.” She’s stern, but her fists aren’t clenched- she’s controlled. Asgore shrinks under her words, looking up at her as he stammers “I-I know, but…”

Panel 4: Carol’s speech: “You talk of heartache. Kris was not even your child by blood.” Asgore looks down, ashamed. 

Panel 5: Carol continues, hand splayed over her chest. For the first time her expression is something other than stern, perhaps angry- still that, but pained. “Do you think your pain is greater than the one I feel, for December? Whom I gave away first?” 

Panel 6: Asgore plucks at his sleeve, looking away guiltily. “No, of course not-” 

Page 6 Panel 1: Carol’s brief moment of any other emotion is gone. She sweeps her arm to the side. “And yet I have put aside my grief for years, all for the sake of you, and everyone else, in this town. I will do whatever it takes to drive this invader from our doors, and restore this town to the peace it once had.” 

Panel 2: Carol’s face is almost a snarl. “All I require is that you, my oldest friends, trust me.” Asgore looks abashed. 

Panel 3: Close on Asgore’s downturned mouth, so none of the rest of his expression is visible. “Of course. Of course we do.” 

Panel 4: Carol draws away, her face returned to calm sternness. “That’s good to hear. Our children don’t need our tears.” 

Panel 5: Carol turns to go back into her gate, dismissing Asgore with a wave. “But our town does need our efforts.”  Asgore watches her go, putting his hands back to his wheelbarrow. 

Page 7 Panel 1: Another wide shot of the Holiday house and gardens, with Carol walking back to the house and Asgore outside the gate. Carol: “So I’ll see you both at the next gathering.” 

Panel 2: Asgore looks down at his wheelbarrow, despondently. His plants are all notably wilted. “Good day, Mayor.” The sky behind him darkens. 

[luffington]

nurse's office ♡

➤ summary: Even doctors need check-ups, so you indulge your boyfriend and put on a sexy nurse costume. (18+)

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.1k

➤ warnings: switch!law, modern AU, nurse-patient roleplay, praise kink, established relationship, fluff, silly porn dialogue, fem reader

➤ notes: i LOVE law with all my heart but i have such a hard time writing him.... hopefully this turned out okay and it's accurate to his character :')

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

When you returned to your apartment after work, the lights were on and a familiar black trench coat hung in the entrance, but the coat’s owner was nowhere in sight. You called his name as you slipped off your shoes and received no response. 

A muffled noise coming from your shared bedroom caught your attention.

Curious, you crept through the living room and creaked open the door just enough to slip inside. Law sat at his desk in the dark with his back turned away from you. Completely focused on his dimmed laptop screen with headphones plugged in and unaware of your presence. A smile spread across your face when you noticed what he was watching.

A busty brunette woman in an incredibly cliché nurse outfit batted her fake eyelashes at the camera as she deep-throated her patient’s dick. Your boyfriend’s inked hand rose up and down his own cock, eyes half-lidded and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his throaty groans. When you were literally right behind him, you leaned over his shoulder to read the video title out loud. “‘The Best Prescription In Town Is A Dose Of This Naughty Nurse’s Pussy’?”

Law’s entire body went cold.

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” He panicked, whipping his head towards you and accidentally ripping his headphones cord out of the jack. Exaggerated and unrealistic slurping sounds, accompanied by the male actor’s moans, started playing at full volume. Law forgot how his typically agile fingers worked as he rushed to pause the video. He was ready to diagnose himself with a heart attack.

Your eyes flickered to the bottle of lube and box of tissues beside his laptop. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I…” Embarrassment flooded his veins and he scrambled for a logical explanation. You were clearly amused instead of upset, but that didn’t deter him. Steeling his nerves, your boyfriend cleared his throat and prayed his voice didn’t shake. “I wanted to see how accurate this was, but it’s a disgusting mockery of nurses. This is completely inappropriate in a real hospital.”

“Well, duh,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes. You leaned closer to study the other tabs open in his incognito mode browser. One search for ‘hot nurse’ and another for ‘nurse fucks patient’. A second video titled ‘Nursing Student Gives Penis Exam’. A spark ignited in you. “Law, is this what you’re into?”

He stayed silent and let his head fall down in shame – which only directed your gaze to his quickly softening dick – as he mumbled a timid apology.

“Oh, baby, you have nothing to apologize for.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his neck. “Please don’t be embarrassed, I genuinely wanna know what turns you on. I won’t judge, I promise.”

“You’re prettier than everyone in these videos,” was his only response. He was such a sweetheart without even trying. 

Even though you’d been together for quite a while, Law still had a hard time discussing his kinks. The man had a neurotic need to protect his innermost thoughts and thick iron walls guarding every part of his mind. It took a lot of time and patience, but you’d managed to break down most of his barriers. You wanted him to trust you and feel comfortable around you; having fun in the bedroom was just a bonus. 

Pressing your lips to his ear, you teasingly whispered, “I can buy a nurse costume, you know.”

“Huh? Are you serious?!” Wide gray eyes met yours, a flurry of emotions overtaking his stressed-out expression.

“Of course! I’ll look for a cute one right now.” You pulled out your phone, pausing before opening your browser to bat your eyelashes and say, “Only if you want me to.”

“I – I…” Law fumbled for words, unable to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he licked his dry lips and hastily leaned over to look at your screen. “Let me see the options.”

The costume was set to arrive in 3-4 business days, which gave you and Law plenty of time to talk and plan. Both of you discussed what you wanted out of the scenario and what you each felt comfortable doing. You promised Law you’d do actual research by watching nurse pornos in order to imitate them, and he swore to never correct you mid-scene with his accurate medical knowledge. 

His steely eyes lit up when he spoke and made your heart flutter with love. As an accomplished surgeon, he took care of countless patients every day – of course he wanted someone to do the same for him. Nothing was sexier than seeing Law turn to putty in your hands, happily melting into your protection.

The fateful night arrived with a flimsy package at your front door.

Law sat on the couch in the ‘waiting room’ (also known as the living room), anxiously rubbing the letters tattooed on his knuckles and bouncing his legs. His throat was parched, his heart was racing, and his dick was already getting hard.

His jaw dropped when you opened the bedroom door – no, your office. The tight white dress hugged your body perfectly, accentuating all of your best features. Firetruck red stripes lined the sleeves and collar, and a prominent zipper ran all the way down the front. Your boobs were spilling out of the low-cut top and the skirt barely covered your upper thighs. A dainty white hat sat atop your head, sporting a white cross in a red circle that matched the one on your breast pocket. The look was complete with thigh-high white stockings, lacy crimson lingerie, Law’s real stethoscope around your neck, and a notebook and pen in your hand.

“Trafalgar Law?” You called out coquettishly.

His excited cock tried to answer for him, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “T-That’s me.”

With an overly sweet grin, you beckoned him into the room. “It’s time for your appointment. Follow me.” 

Previously arranged pillows on the bed mimicked the half-upright position of a medical chair. Law couldn’t look away from you as he shuffled towards his ‘exam table’, sitting down so his legs hung off the edge. You placed a gentle hand under his scruffy chin, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits. 

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Law didn’t have the confidence (nor the acting ability) to answer ‘my dick’ the way a pornstar would. So he settled for, “I’m not sure, miss. Maybe… give me a physical?”

“Ooh, a full body inspection,” you giggled, putting on a pair of hospital-grade latex gloves. “Please remove your shirt and lie on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only my shirt?”

Biting back a laugh, you responded, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?” 

Your boyfriend nodded obediently, neatly folding his canary yellow t-shirt beside him on the bed. It didn’t matter how often you saw his heavily tattooed chest – you were in awe of it every time. You opened your notebook, humming in mock contemplation and scribbling nonsense on a blank page in an imitation of Law’s terrible doctor handwriting. He tried to peek at what you were doing, but you quickly shut the cover. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed with a gentle smile and ruffled his hair.

He apologized curtly and settled back into a comfortable reclined position. Running your fingers along his jawline, you trailed your touch down the column of his throat and across his collarbones. Gently massaging his shoulders and feeling the tense muscles loosen as he let out a content sigh. You were unable to resist tracing the massive inked heart on his torso as you’d done so many times, lightly trailing your pointer finger across its flames and swirls and sending pleasant tingles throughout his body.

Repeating the action on his matching bicep tattoos, you cheekily stated, “Such strong muscles. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled, finally beginning to relax into his role. “You have no idea.”

“Let me check your heartbeat.” Not even bothering to put the stethoscope in your ears, you ran the cold chestpiece against Law’s nipples, forcing a pretty hiss from his lips. Rubbing circles atop them until both were stiff peaks, then teasingly rolling them between your fingertips until he was flushed and panting. 

Satisfied with his worked-up state, you pulled away to write more nonsense in the notebook. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously, what the hell are you writing?”

“Please let me do my job, Mr. Trafalgar.” You firmly smacked the end of your pen against one of his nipples. The sudden display of authority made his cock twitch. 

You caressed his defined abdomen muscles, moving lower down his gorgeous body and brushed over his dark happy trail. 

“Your chest seems fine, which means…” You trailed off and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Law’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, lifting his hips to help you slide down his sweats and boxers underneath. 

His rock-hard dick sprung free gratefully, angry red and twitching in excitement. You’d never seen him get this worked up so quickly – it made your cunt ache.

“Well, this is clearly the issue! Poor thing, you must feel so lightheaded from all the blood flowing down here.” You cooed, wiping his dark bangs away from his eyes in mock comfort. “I have to relieve this pressure or else the swelling won’t go down.”

“H-How will you–“ Law’s cheeky question was cut off by a groan when you curled your fingers around the thick base of his cock. Just one stroke pushed out several beads of pearly precum from his pretty tip. The synthetic softness of latex gloves felt strange against such a sensitive part of him, but it made the scenario extra immersive. 

“I need to milk you dry. Is that okay with you, Mr. Trafalgar?” 

Law nodded eagerly, too overstimulated to consent with words. He’d heard that phrase so many times in his videos. Your chest swelled with pride as you admired his submissive state. It wasn’t easy for your boyfriend to relinquish control to you during sex – no matter how much he wanted to – but he looked like he would die for you at that moment. 

You swung your leg over his body to straddle his upper thighs, cunt inches away from where he needed it. The movement caused your skirt to ride up and reveal a peek of your lacy panties. Law gulped when he noticed your soft thighs bulging around the elastic band of your stockings. 

Using both hands, you began to jerk him off with slow and deliberate movements. Dragging your palms from the base to the head with the perfect amount of pressure, making sure to trace the sensitive vein on the underside. A steady stream of translucent fluid dribbled out, the length pulsing and begging for more in your grasp. You paused to spit on his tip for added lubrication and rubbed it into his heated skin. 

Law was glad you were fixated on his cock rather than his face. He knew he looked pathetic. Barely three minutes had passed and he was embarrassingly close to cumming (though he was proud of himself for not bursting in his pants the moment you emerged in your costume). His abdomen muscles were wound tight and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Steely gray eyes never left your body, your hands, almost too afraid to blink. 

When you fondled his heavy balls, his orgasm hit him like a truck. Law threw his head against the pillow and cried out, painting white streaks across your baby blue gloves. You grinned watching your boyfriend heaving for air, finally meeting his gaze when you swiped your tongue across a thick glob of cum on your thumb. He watched dazedly as you wiped the rest of his spend off on your skirt, then tossed your dirty gloves on the floor. 

“Perfect! The swelling went down,” you grinned slyly and added, “but it might come back.”

“Oh, it’s definitely coming back.” 

Law grabbed your waist and quickly flipped your positions, pinning you underneath him by sitting on your hips. Holding your wrists above your head in one hand and using the other to cup your jaw, he pressed his lips against yours in a wet and messy kiss. You whined as he shoved his tongue down your throat, eagerly devouring your mouth. 

“M-Mr. Trafalgar, this is very unprofessional…” Weakly faking a struggle against his grasp, whining when it only got tighter.

“I gotta self-medicate now, miss, or I’ll never get better.” Your boyfriend kissed his way down your sternum, tugging down the zipper of your costume just enough to reveal your chest. He groaned at the sight of your vivid red bra. “Fuck, what a uniform.”

While mouthing at the swell of your breasts, your boyfriend stroked himself to full hardness – which didn’t take long. Desire was overtaking his mind and turning his vision hazy. He might actually have a medical issue if he didn’t fuck you immediately. 

Law slipped his hand between your legs and snickered at the wetness soaked through your panties. Pushing the fabric to the side, he unceremoniously thrust his E and A fingers in your cunt. Those skilled digits pushed and prodded inside you, a grin spreading across his face when he heard the sinful squelch of your drenched walls. 

“Naughty nurse,” he chuckled teasingly, gray eyes burning holes into your own when he sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“I’m not naughty,” you pouted. “My job is to make patients feel better, and this is helping, right?”

“Shit, yeah, you just might cure me.” 

Law tapped your inner thighs and you spread them willingly, unsurprised when he chose to shove your panties to the side and keep the costume intact. He pressed his swollen mushroom tip against your leaking entrance. With freed wrists, you gripped the bedsheets, heart racing and pussy throbbing. 

Rather than fulfilling both of your desires, your boyfriend paused in thought. “Hold on, what did you diagnose me with?”

You shrugged and defaulted to something you heard in a porno. “Big dick disorder?”

Law fought against every well-educated neuron in his brain begging to correct you. He took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated exhale, but smirked proudly. “I’ll accept it.”

His cock slammed into you and knocked all the air from your lungs. Bottoming out with a groan, he paused to lean back and admire your outfit, feeling his cock get impossibly harder inside your cunt. Fucking a fantasy nurse was a deep-rooted desire of his, and he was amazed and incredibly grateful that he was able to act it out with you. 

“Is this the right way to treat my illness?” Smugly punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your womb. You’d never seen him so talkative in bed.

“M-move faster… it’ll be more effective.”

“Okay. I trust you, miss nurse.” Law whispered seductively in your ear. His beard tickled your skin when he nipped at a soft spot of your neck. 

Setting a brutal pace, he pistoned his cock in and out, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Messy wet sounds filled the room – your cunt gushing and your tongues desperately sliding against each other. Law typically limited his vocal expressions of pleasure to grunts and soft groans, but something in him had clearly snapped. He had no issue throwing his head back and moaning unashamedly, interweaving spat curse words and praises of your body. 

He sucked on your tongue while switching his hip movements to a slow grind, his dick fully sheathed and rubbing against every delicate inch of your cunt. 

“T-Traf… oh, fuck, Law.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you tangled your fingers in his messy black hair and held onto it for dear life. He swallowed the string of saliva connecting your lips with a playful grin.

Shifting your position into a mating press, you locked your stocking-clad knees around his shoulders. His rough pace resumed, cock reaching impossibly deeper inside you, bullying your cervix with every thrust. Your body rocked back and forth on the shaking mattress. Every movement caused your hat to press against the pillow and reminded you of your costume – no, your role.

“Good girl,” Law panted, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Taking care of me so well with your pretty pussy.”

You whined needily, feeling your core tighten. “I’m s-so close, baby,” 

A sharp slap came down on your tit. Law’s eyes narrowed. “Be professional.” 

Despite his strict command, he rewarded you by pressing and flicking his thumb against your neglected clit. You bucked your hips into his touch desperately, grinding the sensitive nub on his calloused finger.

You threw your head backwards, arched off the bed and came with a cry of, “Mr. Trafalgar!” Arms wrapped around his back, legs pulling him in even tighter as your pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, flooding over you in a bright white light. 

“Naughty fucking nurse.” Your boyfriend growled with a pleased smirk. Hot cum coated your walls as Law let out a deep moan, your cunt eagerly milking every last drop. Your boyfriend kissed you deeply until the aftershocks of both of your orgasms had subsided.

He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Releasing your tight grip on his shoulders, you lovingly rubbed the giant skull tattoo on his upper back. 

“Thank you, miss. I’m cured.” Law mumbled happily, kissing your cheek. 

You frowned. “You are? After one round?”

“Oh.” That certainly wouldn’t be a satisfying ending to his appointment. “Um… No, I’m still very, very sick.” He followed it up with a fake cough. Not exactly a symptom of having a big dick, but whatever. 

Deciding to give your overwhelmed boyfriend a break, you took control of the situation again.

“I’m not sure how much medical knowledge you have, Mr. Trafalgar, but I have an ache in my chest.” You reached between your bodies to innocently spread your unzipped dress even more, pushing out your tits. “Mind checking it out for me?”

Law pushed up the cups of your bra without a second thought, groping your soft flesh with large palms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[kittenintheden]

I've had a fair few people ask me how I write dialogue, and other than touting the sort-of-dismissive-feeling "I've had a lot of practice and have been doing this a long time" comment I usually make, here are a few quick tips for improving dialogue writing.

1) Listen to people talk. Like. This sounds very "no fuckin duh." But I don't mean casually overhearing conversations. I mean if you have a character with a specific background, then get some headphones and find video/audio of someone you envision them speaking like, close your eyes, and simply listen. Full immersion. Let the cadence of their voice and the vocabulary they use wash over you. Absorb it.

2) Read some screenplays and start listening to dialogue like a writer. Screenplays are a good source because film/television often relies heavily on dialogue to communicate character. The lines are intentional, they're economic, they convey ideas in a way that most of us wouldn't be able to come up with off the cuff. Consider the different ways lines can be delivered and how that can change their entire meaning.

3) Everyone has vocal tics. We all have certain ways of speaking. It's where regional accents and slang come from and it's how we express a specific image of ourselves. People SPEAK differently. Uptalk, vocal fry, pauses for emphasis, laughing to lighten the heaviness of the words, certain turns of phrase, mumbling, showmanship, whatever. Train your ear to clock those things and figure out how to use them to bring out character personality.

4) Check out some improv. If you have an improv group in your area, check them out! There's also tons of improv content online. If you're ever like "how did someone come up with that absolute fucking BANGER of a line just off the top of their head???" The answer is 1) they probably didn't just think of it, and 2) they've practiced rapid-fire back and forth, often with a comedic bent.

5) Read out loud. If you're ever like "what would a real person sound like saying this," you have the answer. Say it yourself, in the way you envision them saying it, and see where it sounds clunky and can be smoothed out. Is there a way for you to convey emphasis where it's needed?

6) Dialogue tags do in fact matter. Every once in a while you'll see the advice that you should NEVER use dialogue tags besides "says/said" because "the dialogue should speak for itself." It's mostly bullshit. Don't use them for the sake of adding a different tag to every line of dialogue, but the WAY people say things can change the meaning of the words. So use them intentionally.

7) PRACTICE. Look. I fuckin know lol. But this advice always stands. Any creative expression requires practice to improve. It's incredibly rare to have a "natural" talent for anything. So just keep on keeping on. You're doing great. And you will continue to improve.

[rowenablade]

Okay. I’m going to wait to do a second watch before I articulate most of my other feelings here, but I want to address one thing.

I’m seeing a lot of posts like, “I related to Izzy because I am also queer and older/disabled/depressed. By killing him off, the writers are saying that I deserve to die.”

Guys.

I’m not saying your feelings aren’t valid. I totally understand grieving a character that you relate to. But speaking as a writer, I just want to point out that trying to write with the shadow of “what is the absolute worst and most harmful way a reader can interpret this” will smother your ability to create. Twisting yourself in knots, trying to think up the worst-faith takes possible and scotch-guarding all your writing decisions against them is exhausting to the point of making you just not want to write anymore.

And we’ve seen the writers deliberately choose not to do this in Season 1. Remember all those terrible “Izzy is racist” takes that the writers and cast seemed completely blindsided by? That happened because the writers and directors and actors weren’t going over every scene with a fine tooth comb, ferreting out every shot or line of dialogue or micro expression that could possibly be interpreted as racist, and scrubbing it off. Because there comes a point where your story is what it needs to be, and you have to accept that some people will interpret it in ways you didn’t intend them to. And if you can’t accept that, you’ll never find the courage to put your work out there.

The point of diverse casts and writing teams isn’t to achieve a state of, “Nothing bad ever happens to a character from a marginalized demographic ever again.” It’s to achieve a status quo of these types of characters just being people in the world of the story. Not symbols, not representation boxes to tick, not tokens that you can point to so that you can say, “Here, we acknowledged this type of person exists, now where’s our woke points?”

OFMD is full of characters of color, queer characters, older characters, characters of differing body types. And in stories, things happen to characters. Some fall in love. Some make the same mistakes over and over. Some turn into birds. Some die.

Izzy’s character represents a lot of things, but he does not represent every older, disabled fan or fan who has struggled with suicide, any more than Jim represents all genderqueer fans, or Olu represents all black fans. That’s not how the writers were handling him. They were handling him like a character, because that’s what you have to do.

Again, I understand being sad. I am so, so fucking sad. But this idea of, “Any time something bad happens to a character I relate to means that the writer thinks I deserve these bad things to happen to me,” will poison everything you engage with eventually. Because stories are full of things happening to characters, and they won’t all be good things. And the more representation we get, the more often bad things will happen to characters we relate to.

But good things will happen too.

Queer couples get married. Disabled women run off with their favorite husbands. Middle-aged characters change careers. A multiracial polycule finds a home at sea. A fat man covered in tattoos stars in a drag show and all his friends cheer. All these things happened in the same show as Izzy’s death. This is what this world is.

Anyway. I know emotions are running high and I’ll probably get blocked or unfollowed by a few people for this. But I’m just trying to find my peace where I can, and if anyone else finds this useful, cheers.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

[genshxn]

guess who wants to (honkai: star) rail another dragon man. there is also (un)fortunately no (star) railing in this.

written pre 1.3 so i’m making shit up for now. (this is also full of vidyadhara headcanons)

in which you find dan heng unable to sleep, you have an awkward conversation, and then he becomes somewhat dragon-brained. twice.

4.2K words (lmao this is way longer than i meant it to be)

you’re not the trailblazer, just another laddie aboard the express.

btw, i bullshited a good chunk of the dialogue and events, so apologies if this is shite. i might've also committed character vehicular manslaughter, in that he might be ooc. lol fingers crossed it's aight.

part 2’s finally up if you wanna read it here

despite the quiet of the night, you had drifted from your sleep. it had been painfully light as of recent, leaving you adrift in the shallows while you’d toss and turn for a comfortable position. could you really be blamed though? yes, the looming threat of phantylia had been taken out, and everyone from the express that went aboard the luofu had been reunited after what felt like weeks. but you were still in the thick of an intricate web of chaos. the threats were far from over, not with the stellaron still active. but at least for now, you had enough time in this brief respite to be able to not fucking sleep.

you rolled over. you were more or less itching with restlessness, sighing to yourself quietly over your woes of no sleep. you rose from your mussed bed and hobbled out of the room. it was a quaint little place—where you had stayed when it was just the express crew (minus dan heng), when you'd first met tingyun. after that, everything happened like a landslide. memories of her sudden death quickly boiled their way up. with each step you took, you stamped them back down again.

out in the small hallway, you made your way towards the small courtyard out the back. as you walked past the other rooms, you were a little jealous at the sounds of others sleeping. from mr. yang's and march’s respective rooms was the odd, soft snore. from stelle’s room, there was nothing (which was to be expected, as you often found her out messing with the cycrane systems at night). as you walked past dan heng’s room, you were expecting more silence—which you were of course met with, but also a slitted door. you peered through into the darkness. from the dim hallway light, it seemed he had also tried and failed at sleep if his abandoned, nest-like sheets were anything to go by.

you continued to the courtyard. once you cracked open the door, you were met with an unexpected sight. moonlight caught on the black, silken strands that spilt down his back. a glassy, teal tail coiled around his feet, almost glinting in the light with each of its subtle movements. dan heng, wearing his simple night clothes of old, baggy slacks and a tight, black tank top. his ears twitched as you slid the door open further. when you stepped onto the stone tiles, he cast you an over-shoulder glance—a new habit he’d picked up recently.

"can’t sleep either?" you asked him softly, approaching from behind. 

the only response he gave was a strained groan, dragging a hand over his face.

"i take that as a no, then," you said, moving over to sit in another stool at the small table just next to him. as you went past, his tail wound tighter around the foot of his seat. 

"i take it that it’s the same for you," he muttered in reply, jade eyes cast somewhere on the ground between him and you. 

"yep." you leaned against the table next to you, arm propping up your head. your eyes flickered to his face. "and not because i’ve been up playing gacha games."

he briefly met your gaze, eyebrows quirked in doubt.

"okay, i don’t do it anywhere near as much as stelle." 

"right," he said with the faintest hint of a smile. the tip of his tail twitched in amusement. "her room was very quiet when i walked past, though. perhaps she’s mended her ways." 

"i think she’s out screwing with the cycranes instead, actually." 

"of course she is," he breathed as he raked a hand through his long hair. as you watched it pass through the delicate tresses, you stared intently at his claws. after his initial transformation, to say you were floored was an understatement. perhaps more like you were punched 50,000 feet below sea level. he could really only be described as beautiful, but even that word couldn’t quite capture his ethereality. even when he was as exhausted as he looked now, he still seemed to glow—quite literally, too. his eyes and those horns atop his head shone faintly in the dark. when someone was that pretty, how could one not be reduced to a staring fool? particularly you.  as of recent, you’ve ended up forgetting you’re supposed to actually talk to him when he’s with you. and if you did remember to ever say anything, you’d make a fool of yourself. 

he watched your gaze affixed to his hands. he took one look at them and then wrung them in his lap, looking off to the side with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. 

"ah, i’m sorry—" you began, but he quickly cut you off. 

"it’s fine," he said hurriedly, tail coiling up tighter.

"no, really. i know i’ve been acting pretty weir—" 

"i said it’s fine. please, just leave it." he said again. he unwound himself just a little, but the tense line of his shoulders still had yet to dissipate. his gaze wandered a little more back towards you. "may i ask what’s keeping you up?" 

you weren’t thrilled at the spontaneous topic change, but replied nonetheless. "just about everything, i guess. a lot’s been going on. it’s hard to take any time to rest with a stellaron still effectively looming overhead," you said. "though i could only imagine it’s about that, but tenfold for you, given the whole..." you gestured vaguely to his whole new look. 

he dragged a hand down his face, rubbing his sleepy eyes in the process. "i don’t want to think about the stellaron for now…"

"agreed. shall we put a pin in that topic, then?"

"that would be ideal."

the two of you sat in more silence. you were (only half) guiltily back to staring at his features, eyes running over all parts of him. he seemed to shrink under your gaze, ears and tail twitching with thought. his eyes drifted up to look at you—oh, there was something new. his pupils must dilate or constrict based on what he was looking at. when his eyes met yours, you could have sworn they momentarily expanded, until his eyes flickered away again, waning right back to slits. at the same time, his ears angled themselves down just a touch. 

"a—are you feeling okay?" you asked, tilting your head a little. he made a small groan and shelled further into himself. you didn’t think you had ever seen him that tense. "hey, look at me. are you alright?" your voice was as soft as you could make it. you tried to reach out to the arm he had leaning on the table, but it was in vain. he inched away moments before contact.

"i—" his tail-tip continued to flicker with apprehension. 

"well, something else is definitely bothering you. can you talk to me about it?"

"m-must i?" he was almost hiding his face.

"only if you want to," you shuffled yourself a little closer to him. "but if it’s weighing this much on you, it may make you feel a little lighter. so you can sleep. y’know." while you spoke, you gestured somewhat vaguely. ever since his vidyadhara heritage was put on full display, he hadn’t quite been the same as you knew him. he was more tense than usual. on-edge and anxious, preoccupied with his own thoughts, much unlike the down-to-earth dan heng you normally knew. it worried you. he wasn’t even really speaking to mr. yang. with everything that had been going on, you could barely begin to imagine what sort of turmoils he had churning within him. 

"i suppose one thing is that i’m simply not used to this form," he ran a clawed, slender finger up from the base of his horn to the tip. "there’s a strange disparity between feeling like i’ve known myself to be like this my whole existence, but also that i’m suddenly someone i’m not." as he spoke, his voice was quiet. "in a similar vein, it’s like my tail has a mind of its own. look at it," he grumbled while he picked it up into his lap. as he held it bundled in his arms, the tip hung over the side, twitching to and fro. "i’m not trying to make it do that. i can’t control it." he sighed, a slight growl in his throat. 

"wouldn’t it do that because you’ve been so… frazzled, as of recent?" 

"what makes you think that?" 

"um…" how were you supposed to tell him that you only had that theory because you had been constantly stealing glances of him, watching his moods, watching his languid beauty. instead, you thought of some other bullshit answer. "i mean, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? it’s like cats. their tails twitch when they’re irritated, and i’m sure they can’t quite control it." 

he frowned a little, ears twitching downward. "i’m not a cat," he said, almost with a little pout. 

maybe not, but he was certainly cute like one. "anyway, what you said about your new features…" you began, scratching the back of your head. to your surprise, he looked at you with eyes just a little wider than normal. "i could only imagine how weird it must be for you… who am i kidding, no i couldn’t. it’s probably downright foreign, but you’re dan heng. i’m sure you’ll have it under control in no time." 

with his hands on his knees, he aimlessly grabbed at fistfuls of his loose pants. "you…" he muttered, wetting his lips as he swallowed thickly once again. 

"me?" you echoed quietly.

"forgive me for asking something so asinine, but… what… do you think?" as he muttered out the words, you could have sworn his face was turning a light shade of pink. however, it was hard to tell under only the moon and the dim lights of the courtyard. what you could tell was that his tail-tip was twitching like a bundle of nerves.

you stared at him with owlish eyes. "what do i think of what?" 

"what do you think of… me. as i am now?" 

your breath caught in your throat for a moment as he stared at you with such apprehensive eyes. they were slitted from nerves, but they shone with the moonlight, expectation and most curiously, some sort of hope. "um…"

"i’ve noticed how much you stare at me, yet you said nothing when you first saw me, unlike mr. yang or march. now, you feel almost stilted when you’re with me, like you refuse to address what’s in front of you." 

you swallowed hard at his words. "didn’t stelle also not…" you trailed off. you were doing it again, what he quite literally just said. 

"i’ve spoken to her since then. i’m asking you." he seemed to have regained a little confidence, sitting up straighter and looking at you with the slightest bit more intensity.

now it was your turn to grab at fistfuls of your clothes. you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you spoke, heart pounding a mile a minute. "you’ve been truthful with me, so i guess i should too," you muttered. "you, ah, um…" this was really not the direction you thought this conversation would go in. "to be really honest with you, i keep staring because you’re so… pretty."

dan heng sat motionless. if it weren’t for his vidyadhara features, he almost could have gotten away with simply being frozen. upon your words, his eyes widened just a fraction, jade-white pupils dilating. his ears twitched back upwards and his tail fell still. heavy moments of silence passed while you two stared at each other. it seemed like he was waiting for you, so you kept talking. "i didn’t speak much to begin with simply because i was so surprised. i mean, we see you again after so long and there you are, just about the most beautiful thing i’d ever seen, suddenly with the power to split an ocean. after that, i didn’t trust myself to not be weird about you, so i… kind of just refused to say anything." you rubbed the back of your neck, face burning. "but i guess that plan fell flat on its face if you noticed me staring so much." 

once you finished speaking, his gaze fell into his lap, gazing down at his hands that held fistfuls of fabric once again. "but… these powers aren’t me." 

"of course not. they’re not you, only a fraction of the whole you," there was a slight smile on your lips. "are you worried that i don’t see you as dan heng anymore?" 

he made no effort to confirm or deny anything, simply remaining as he was—a blatant yes for him. 

a small smile made its way onto your face. "you’re always going to be one and only dan heng that the whole express—that i—know and love, no matter what other forms you take." you shuffled yourself closer to him once again, now finally able to reach out and brush your thumb over the back of his hand. as you sat there, your face was burning up at your words. did you really have to word it like that? if you really wanted to be honest with him, then yes. 

he was still sat ramrod upright, but a blush now dusted his cheeks and his pupils were blown wide. his tail-tip was back to moving, this time wagging back and forth. he looked between you and your hand on his own, letting out a shaky breath. while he was still as nerve-wrecked as could be, a weight on his shoulders seemed to have been lifted. he looked like he was about to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, out came a long yawn. even though he tried to hide it with with his wrist, you still managed to catch a glimpse of his fangs. 

"sorry," he muttered, rubbing one of his eyes. “also, you’re still staring."

"ah, i—i’m sorry, i’ve been acting so weird. i—that habit’s not gonna go away any time soon…" you yanked your hands back into your lap. he looked a little disappointed at the new lack of contact. "anyway, how do you think you’ll sleep now?"

"please do not worry about me. what about yourself?" 

"um…" your heart is still pounding in your throat. "i—i don’t know, to be honest." whatever the answer was, it was bound to be ‘not well’.

"in the past, you’ve come to the archives when you haven’t been able to sleep. you’d place yourself on my bed and then ten minutes later, i’d find you fast asleep." his voice was soft when he spoke, almost with a faint note of mirth. "i wouldn’t mind if you…"

your eyes almost fell out of your head. "hold on, are you really—"

"you’re welcome to sleep next to me, if you’d like." 

"like in your room?" 

"where else?" when he stared at you, there wasn’t much obvious emotion on his face, but at the same time, he seemed so earnest with his tail-tip flicking back and forth happily. 

"but i thought you found it annoying when i did that?" 

"only because you'd wake me in the early hours of the morning. truly, i’ve never been opposed to it."

your face prickled with heat as you raked a hand through your hair. "are you sure you’re completely the same dan heng?" 

"hey." he looked miffed. 

"sorry, sorry." you were just about hiding your face in your hands by this point. "i just thought—" before you could finish, he stood up, long tail unwinding from around the seat. he took two steps and then plucked you off of your own chair. as you yelped in shock, he flopped you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “hey, what’re you—?!" 

"would you stop being so adamant if i say it will help me sleep too?" 

you gave up drumming on his back, only able to hang in embarrassment as you covered your face. your head may as well have been steaming. "wh—what the fuck is this?" 

he made no reply as he marched you back inside. as he walked, you watched his tail-tip as it was curled upwards, swaying from side to side. his room was close—he opened the door with his foot, stepped in and slid it closed again with his tail. as soon as you were properly enclosed, he placed you onto the bed with unexpected gentleness. in the past, if you were causing trouble, his method of dealing with you was hauling you off somewhere and simply dropping you—now, it was the opposite. you were left dazed in the middle of the sheet-nest, only back to your senses once dan heng got in next to you. but instead of settling down for sleep like you anticipated, he was shuffling about on his knees, rearranging the sheets and pillows so they were in a better formation, according to him. he was even using his tail to smooth out the sheets into circular patterns. 

"are you nesting or something?" you asked, bewildered. 

with no reply, he finally settled down further up against the splayed pillows. "come." he held his arms open for you, but when you made no movement, his tail roped you in instead. you were drawn into his not-very-tight vice grip, trapped in next to him. he held you loosely around the waist with clasped hands, head placed atop your leg where he seemed to be using your side like a pillow. his horns poked into your stomach every time he nuzzled... he was really nuzzling you...

"dan heng, seriously, what’s gotten into you?" 

with only a hum, he ceased his movements and craned his head up, staring at you from behind thick lashes. his pupils were still blown wide open. you couldn’t help but find it mildly foreboding. 

"i don’t understand why you’re… so touchy. i thought you were normally allergic to contact?" 

"is it not enjoyable?" he tilted his head. his fluffy hair flopped in his face with his movement. internally, one part of you was screaming YEEEES and crushing beer cans into your forehead, while the other, larger part of you was just plain screaming. you wanted to bask in this shower of attention, but at the same time, it felt so wrong—like he wasn’t really himself. whatever dragon-brain mindfuckery was going on in his head, it was certainly potent. 

"it’s not that, i just… are you sure you’re thinking straight? or do i need to spell out the situation? because you’ve hauled me back to your bed, made a nest around me and are now cuddling me like a pillow."

dan heng blinked once, twice and then his body went rigid. he pushed himself off of you and leapt to the corner of the bed, crouched with his tail once again wound around him. "wh—what was i…?" he looked down at his hands as if they were soaked in blood. his face was flaring red with a blush. 

"you seemed rather convinced i was something like your treasure hoard for a moment," you said.

upon your words, he sank his head in his hands, and whatever noise he made in embarrassment sounded like a groaning sob. "forgive me, i don’t know what came over me…" 

"some kinda vidyadhara instinct?” it was almost like he was trying to court you. 

"something like that," he muttered from behind his hand that now covered his mouth. his gaze was fixed to a random point before him and his ears were down-turned. "i… i’ve never felt it that strong before."

"wait, you’ve felt it befo—?" right before you could finish, his tail silenced you, thwacking itself against your lips. meanwhile, he was hiding his face again. with the way his shoulders hunched, you were worried—he seemed genuinely distressed. it was a miracle he hadn’t run off somewhere by that point. with a concerned frown, you took his tail in hand and spoke again. "hey, um, this might not help whatsoever, but it was actually… rather nice when you did that." you struggled to look at him. if you called it cute like it was, you’d just be blowing whatever chance you had at keeping him in place. 

he looked over at you, ears perked up. his incredulous eyes went as wide as could be, almost like two moons. a moment passed, and the tail in your hands began to sway. "really?"

"really," you nodded. "it was just shocking to begin with, but i—if you want, you can do it again."

dan heng turned his body to face you, swallowing thickly and trying to meet your gaze. he was stuck dithering for a few moments until he ultimately crashed again, flopping forward until his face was flat on the mattress. "i can’t," he muttered, voice muffled. 

"oh, um, why?" your eyes went wide. 

he turned his face to the side, unable to make a coherent reply beyond a strained, squeaky groan. he was still burning hot with a heavy flush, but it was soon covered by his tail that draped itself over his head. "too embarrassing.” 

a small, light laugh slipped from your lips. he coiled further into himself at the sound of it, but he was soon unwound when you had your hands on him, guiding him back up next to you. he was as stiff as could be when he laid down next to you, gaze cast down the other end of the bed. you tucked a stray lock of long hair behind one of his ears. when your touch grazed past him, his pink-tipped ear twitched wildly, and he buried his face into the pillow beneath him. "why don’t you let me do something? you did say this would help you sleep, didn’t you?"

"while i was practically in a daze. i wasn’t thinking right," he complained, voice once again muffled. "this will only keep me awake, if anything." 

"maybe, we’ll see." as you spoke, you took to running your fingers through his long, silky hair. you gathered it up from behind him and brought it forward, draping it over his shoulder. your fingers glided through as though they were passing through a soft mist, fluid and sleek. before long, as you gradually let your hands drift higher until they would pass over his head, he began to decompress. stuttering, held breaths became steady and soft. his nervous-contorted face was dissipating, and his heavy blush was fading to a simple dusting of pink. 

when his eyes fell closed, you glanced up at his horn. beyond just staring at him, you were also tempting fate with how much you wanted to touch his new features. you couldn’t help it though—humans are such curious, tactile creatures, it was simply in your nature. one hand left his hair, which he barely seemed to notice, and inched its way to his horn that threatened to poke you. finally, your fingertip ghosted its surface. it was as smooth as glass, and just as cool to the touch. in fact, you could almost describe it as silky, like his scales. he twitched under your touch, eyes parting open. his pupils were blown wide open again. 

"ah, i’m sorry, i—" you began, but he soon cut you off. 

"no, keep going." he grabbed your hand and placed it back on his horn. you blinked incredulously for a moment, but soon continued as you were, running your fingertips up and down the glassy blue projections. he closed his eyes again and, making yours widen, his soft breaths were followed by a faint rumbling in his chest—a purr. he really was like a cat. 

a few moments later, you felt something long wind its way around your leg. you looked down. his tail was snaking its way up your leg, until the tip draped itself happily over your lap where it laid swishing from side to side. you fell still in shock when he shuffled his body closer to yours until he laid flush against your side. he laid one of his arms across your chest and reached for your shoulder, pulling you in just a little closer to him. 

"you stopped again." his voice was barely a whisper when he leaned his head in the crook of your neck. one of his horns was cool against the back of your neck. 

"it’s a little hard to do anything when you’re this close," you muttered back. 

"then just stay as you are." he nuzzled about with a yawn. he must have been finally settling down for sleep, but that meant using you as a body pillow. your tail-twined leg was drawn towards him, where he draped his own leg over top of it, caging it in between his calves. 

“d-dan heng…” you tried to say his name as if that would do anything, but he paid you no mind. lost in his hypnagogic trance, he only muttered sweet nothings with his lips against your shoulder.

his voice was barely audible. dragon-brain must have been in full swing, because he finished off with a quiet: “you will be mine one day, my beloved…"

you nearly exploded then and there.

i love me some emotive ears, mm yes.

[inaconstantstateofchange]

Who Builds Theseus' Ship?

This ties in to a greater discussion about Larian's changes to the game post-Full Release, and whether you consider those changes to be a good thing or a bad thing. Personally speaking, the quality-of-life and gameplay mechanics improvements were appreciated, while the direct changes to characters and especially characterization were not so much.

In such discussions, I often see people downplaying the actual changes to characterization that have been made thus far as "minor" things, but I often see one of the most glaring examples of a characterization change left out, because so many people aren't even aware of it ever happening:

Halsin.

For those who don't know, if you were romancing Halsin at the time of the original full release, and for almost four months afterward, if you took him with you to Act 3's orgy scene in Sharess's Caress, he would open up about a situation in his distant past. He would tell you about how he had briefly been "something between guest, prisoner, and consort" in a drow House, and been kept there for three years before escaping.

He stated that this was something that happened "a long time ago", when he was "a foolhardy young druid", which would mean it would likely have been between ages 100 and 245 — or at minimum 105 years ago, and at (likely) maximum 250 years ago. He closed the discussion with a line that really struck me, and that gave me such an appreciation for his character, and for the writers who had created it:

The passage of time has a strange way of polishing even the most arduous of memories into precious keepsakes.

As someone in their late-20s, with a number of traumatic events in my past, this resonated so much both with my experience of those events – once harrowing and haunting, now just simple happenings that do not affect me the way they once did – and as an inspirational message, that hurt would not necessarily linger forever.

Not only that, I really valued the insight it gave into Halsin's personality, further showing him to be someone who was deeply complex and meditative, always looking for meaning and something to take away or learn from any experience. It also served to showcase the likely reality of the relationship elves and druids both would have to the concepts of time and memory. (Another example of this is the experience of Shadowheart's father compared to her mother at the hands of the Sharrans.)

I started playing the game almost immediately upon its release in August, and was intrigued by Halsin from the start. He was someone who was kind and heartfelt, but also very settled in himself and with a simultaneously rigid and very flexible moral code. It was that complexity that drew me to him, and I appreciated the inclusion of a character distinct from the Origin companions, all at close to the lowest point of their lives.

It was to my surprise to find that this appreciation for his character and perspective on his Act 3 revelation was not unanimous. As it turned out, there was a vocal group of people claiming that this writing was problematic, and that Halsin clearly didn't even realize he was actually traumatized, and that Larian needed to fix it. Not everyone joining in with this crusade had even played the game.

And, ultimately, in a pattern they have continued to follow, Larian responded. They fixed it. At the end of November, as part of Patch 5, they uploaded an edited version of the scene with new dialogue, where the player could express this "reality" to Halsin, in one of the most gallingly patronizing statements I've ever seen.

Sounds traumatic. You may need to reflect on that.

(If someone said this to me after I had opened up to them about my trauma and my experience of it to them, we would not be maintaining a cordial relationship afterward.)

Halsin's new response to these dialogue options is a cringing, self-deprecating cascade of how the player is of course right, and he should have known better, and time could "prove to be a trickster on one's recollections" and that perhaps he had "lost perspective".

Quite frankly, it is a completely different character answering, and an almost directly opposing overall message about the role of time in healing, and the path forward when it comes to trauma. No more "one day these events will not hurt to recall the way they do now". In its stead: "only healing that looks a specific way and follows a specific path is acceptable - anything else and you are simply a poor fool lying to yourself."

The following quote is from a comment left on a video of Halsin's original dialogue in that scene, before the changes, and is just one example of how much that representation meant to more than just me to see:

That said, Halsin is trauma recovery goals for me absolutely. Being able to remember without actually being triggered? Being able to fully and freely engage HOW ID LIKE TO instead of being fettered by trauma responses? Goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there 100%, we don’t get elven lifetimes irl, but his level of healing brings me hope.

Ultimately, this post is not meant to argue that you should agree with me that one is better than the other. More so, I want to highlight that this existed — for many people, this was their experience of events and characters, and that is not so easily redacted. And I also want to just state, for the record, that Larian's way of approaching narrative and characterization changes to their full-release game has been incredibly frustrating. I did not agree, in August, to play an Early Access game with the inherent understanding that any potential narrative aspect might change at any time. I purchased a full-release game, and immersed myself in the story and the characters, to get to know them as the writers had originally presented.

And when Larian makes these changes based on fan feedback, they are explicitly making decisions about which fans matter, and specifically, which fans matter most. Rather than allowing everyone to experience the story they decided to tell, and draw from it what they take away, and let that spark discussion and engagement, they made the decision to defer to some fans over others, and prioritize their experience of the narrative — something that, no matter how well-intended, is always going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.