#there’s just so much and it feels kind of intimidating

[somewhereincairparavel]

HOO if they were in a band/orchestra - boys edition pt 1 (Percy, Jason and Leo)

Percy Jackson- Guitarist

i honestly don't know if I'm being cliche or something, but percy seems like someone who just picks up the guitar and strums it a little before leaving. Like the guitar is a light hearted instrument that you can self learn fairly well, we all know percy HATES tutors of any kind (unless it's annabeth) and would probably like figuring things out himself, so he'd just strum it until he somehow got the tunes he'd want and would probably look up YouTube tutorials lmfao. I feel like sally would like listening to the beatles, and percy would listen along aswell and get inspired to play and perform like that for his mom one day?? A green flag mama's boy till the very end lol. He would eventually start to play guitar of most kinds (bass, electric, acoustic) he'd start with an acoustic first, because it's less intimidating but he'd grow to LOVE electric tbh. So he'd definitely be the sub guitarist of the band. I think his favourite genre would be jazz or rock.

Jason Grace- Violinist

Okay the violin is literally HIS kind of instrument. I feel like he'd really enjoy listening to classical music like vivaldi- the seasons, Mozart's violin Concerto No.5 in A Major, Dmitri Shostakovich's waltz no. 2, etc. especially because if we hc camp jupiter as having something even remotely fun like camp orchestra (camp half blood can be the band bc we KNOW camp jupiter is too uptight and proper for having rock, metal or jazz bands freely, they seem more of the orchestra type) then I KNOW jason would be the lead Violinist tbh. He probably picked that up as a toddler and ended up loving it, it helps him ease into his stress from harsh practice. Also, if he does join a band in camp half blood at the same time, he'd be a lead vocalist tbh. I feel like NOBODY expected jason to be a good singer because people are used to his 'rough' and gruff voice, but it's actually really sweet and melodious, he just roughens it up for his duty as a war leader. He'd have a silky melancholic edge to his voice that's super unique and perfect for singing heartbreaking ballads, also since he's a latin speaker, I feel like his pronunciation of certain words would be very eloquent and he'd have a slight accent that everyone is really intrigued by.

Leo Valdez- drummer

ahh okay so we know how much leo loves tapping and fidgeting right? I feel like drums would be his DREAM instrument because they relieve his stress and nervousness. He'd just tap his drums in his free time. I feel like piper would be the one who would tell him to audition as the drummer in the band, seeing how well he actually drums. He'd genuinely enjoy the drumming. OH OH OH he'd love to use the crash cymbal on his drums (yknow like the steel plate looking things) in the end of each performance for the IT factor of the performance ahh he'd smile the whole time looking so badass. I feel like his position as the drummer would give him immense confidence because everyone compliments him sm.

tagging people who asked me to :) @lizzzzzzzzzzzzzz---lol @boldofyoutoassumeicanspell @themythecho

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie

@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours

@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini

@toomanytookas @vikingqueen28 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams

@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[elronds-meleth-nin]

A Brush With...Kindness?

This idea came up in a discussion with @bigblissandlove1, so credit to you, my dear friend!! Thank you for being okay with me writing it! ILYSM! Thank you for screaming over both versions of Adar with meeee 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 Also holy shit, this was supposed to be like...2000 words and ended up as almost 12000. 💀

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Adar (RoP) x Reader

[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Mentions of violence (not discussed in detail), blood, bloodplay, threats, knives, swords, Adar in the winter, both soft!Adar and stabby!Adar, interspecies sex, Uruk/Human sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), angst, much yearning, nudity, I feel like I'm forgetting something but I have no idea what because holy fuck this is almost 12000 words.

~*~

I knew his face from the moment he and his Uruks flooded into our village. Pillaging and looting where they could, murdering those who fought, the Uruks caused havoc. He strode in with them, looking as serene as the Elf I'd mistaken him for when I was a child.

How lucky I'd been that he'd chosen peace all those years ago. My father was a trader who traveled between Lindon, Eregion, and several villages inhabited by Men. Between the last of those villages and the borders of Eregion, we'd stopped to make camp for the night.

While my father set up our tent and tended to the horse, he asked me to gather some small sticks for the fire. I set off to do so, but in my quest for kindling, I ended up farther away from him than I'd intended with an armload of sticks large enough to make me stagger. Just as I'd begun to turn back, there was a small rustling from behind a bush a few feet away. I turned just in time to see a figure rising to his feet.

Tall, intimidating, covered in dark, aging armor, with scars on his face stood an Ellon. I let out a small, childish sigh of relief. I'd been afraid it might be a bear or an Orc or something fearsome, but it occurred to me that the presence of an Elf must mean that we were close to Eregion.

"You should not wander alone, little one. There are Uruks lurking in this forest," he said, and I noted that he sounded strange. Most Elves had voices that flowed like silvery musical notes, but his was raspy and low, as if he'd screamed for so long that he'd hurt his throat. Maybe he was a soldier, I'd thought. After all, they shout orders all the time.

"I'm not alone," I said lifting my chin as proudly as only a child could. "My father is not far from here."

He did not look convinced, yet still he offered me a smile.

"Perhaps, then, my lady, I could help you with your load?" He asked, and as I'd never been called 'my lady' before, I was not eager to disabuse him of the notion. He relieved me of my bundle of sticks, and together we began to walk back toward the camp my father had set up. After a few moments of comfortable quiet, I posed a question.

"What is an Uruk? I've never heard of one before. The word sounds sort of like 'Orc' if you say it too quickly..." I mused, and a small smile tugged at his lips. Vaguely, I wondered if his scars hurt him, but I did not think it polite to ask. At ten years old, my father had taught me manners enough to know that if a person wanted to talk about something like that, they should be the ones to bring it up.

"An Uruk is the correct name for an Orc," the Ellon said. "The words became...confused long ago. Not many remember their real name."

Oh. Well, that made sense.

"There are two people who know, now," I said smiling up at him, and he looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"That is kind of you, my lady, but you must not use that name around the Elves. They do not take kindly to having their mistakes paraded before them," he said, and that confused me.

"But...you are–"

The crunching steps of heavy boots in the underbrush startled me, but instead of an Uruk appearing from the trees, it was just my father.

"There you are! I told you not to go too far," he said striding up to me and wrapping me in his arms. He placed a kiss atop my head and only then did he turn his gaze upon my companion. Straightening, he glared suspiciously at my new friend. "Who are you? I've never seen Elvish armor quite like that."

His tone was less than kind, and, remembering my manners, I spoke up on my friend's behalf.

"Be nice, papa! He was helping me," I said. My new friend shifted the bundle of sticks to one arm, and placed his hand over his heart, inclining his head in a respectful bow.

"I intended her no harm, sir. There are many perils in this part of the forest and I wished to ensure she would not encounter danger," he explained. "Besides, a bundle this large was certainly more than a lady of her status should have to bear."

He offered me an exaggerated, deferential bow that drew a giggle from my lips. After a mere moment's hesitation, my father invited him to our camp to keep warm, since the woods grew quite cold at night. Looking back, it was obvious that he was incredibly patient with my childish questions as the three of us settled in to pass the night. Our evening meal stretched easily between three mouths, even though our new friend said that he did not wish to diminish our supply of food. We could not simply let him starve.

I woke in the middle of the night to low, whispered voices at the treeline. Carefully, I peeked through the flaps of my tent and saw two shadowed figures around the flickers of a small lamp. One stood tall, and the other hunched over.

With my father still slumbering soundly in his bedroll, I made a decision of which he surely would have disapproved. As quietly as I could, I slipped out, sneaking through the shadows of the trees until I could just make out the face of the taller person in the lamplight.

Our Ellon friend? What was he doing out here? Shifting slightly, I caught sight of the second person and–

I nearly tripped over myself to get back to my tent. He'd been speaking in a strange rasping, mean-sounding language to an Orc - or, an Uruk, as he'd called them.

I wasn't frightened of him, despite what I'd seen. Curiosity still reigned in my mind, but I still did not relish the thought of being caught eavesdropping. The next morning, I rose quite early, only to find that our guest was already gone.

"Don't look so distressed, love," my father called from his seat beside the fire. "He left this for you along with his apologies for leaving before you woke. He said his children needed him."

He held out a small piece of dark metal. It had clearly come from his armor. Carved within it was a set of stars, inlaid with some other tarnished metal.

"He said it was the symbol of the Noldorin Kings. He thought you might appreciate it and that it might serve to remind you of the conversation the two of you had," my father explained, though he looked a bit puzzled. "What conversation did he mean, if I may ask?"

As I looked at the small metal piece, it occurred to me that if he had not told my father, then perhaps there was a reason. My father might react poorly to the word 'Uruk' like our friend said the Elves would, simply because he worked so closely with them.

"He said it was dangerous to walk alone," I said, and though it wasn't a lie, it was not the whole truth, either. I'd never had reason to lie to my father before, and I hoped I would never need to again.

That night after we rode into Eregion and settled into our chambers, by candlelight I found the second symbol. Carved onto the back of the item he'd given me, there was what looked like a three-pronged shape. A tool perhaps? A maker's mark?

I wouldn't see that shape again until many years later when Lord Adar took our village. The armor piece which I'd turned into a necklace years before hung around my neck, almost burning beneath the bodice of my dress even as I averted my eyes from our new lord's.

When the morning came, we were all herded into a line leading to the steps of the tavern from which Adar was currently ruling over us. Those who refused to swear loyalty to him were summarily killed by the Uruks guarding us. When my own turn came, I dropped to my knees as all those before me had done.

Strangely, though, even as I looked up at him, I still couldn't find it within me to be afraid of him. Of death? Naturally, I was frightened, but I could not muster the same feeling regarding the Uruk lord. His eyes met mine, and his lips parted as if he recognized me.

An old man grasped my hair roughly, forcing my head down into a more subservient position.

"Do you swear allegiance to Adar, Lord Father of the Uruks?" He asked, but before I could answer either way, his tight grasp on my hair was suddenly released. "M-My lord?"

"She has already sworn for me," Adar rasped above me, and I tried not to look confused as he urged me to my feet. He reached toward me, and to my astonishment, his fingertips brushed against the pendant that had come loose from beneath the top of my dress. The one he'd given me years ago. The back with the three-pronged carving was visible because the chain had twisted. "She already wears my mark. You will not brand her, is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord," the grumpy old man said, but I could look nowhere save into the same green eyes I'd seen all those years before. I couldn't help but think about how beautiful they were.

"I shall see to the rest tomorrow, Waldreg. See that they're fed and have a place to sleep," Adar ordered. Grasping my elbow, the Lord Father of the Uruks led me away from the crowd. Once we were safely inside one of the ruined buildings, he clasped my upper arms and looked into my eyes. "I thought I told you it was dangerous to wander alone, my lady."

His voice was infinitely gentler than it had been before.

"I'm not alone," I whispered, "Not when I have you."

Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and something far too soft to be on an Uruk Lord's face, he stepped closer and carefully rested his forehead against mine. The scent of smoke and metal, earth and wood oils surrounded me, and I recognized the scent, faint though it had been, from that day in the woods.

He muttered something in the low, guttural language that the Uruks used, and though I had no idea what he'd said, the sound of it sent my heart racing in my chest.

"I thought I'd never see you again," I admitted in a whisper, and he let out a slow, almost sad sigh.

"I had hoped that you would never have need to," Adar murmured in return. When he spoke again, he sounded almost resigned. "If you wish to leave, I can arrange safe passage for you."

I considered the possibility for a moment. My mother and father were living peacefully in Eregion, thanks to the kindness bestowed upon them by Lord Celebrimbor. I could certainly go there, but...was that what I wanted?

"And...if I wanted to stay?"

Pulling his head back just far enough to look into my eyes, Adar seemed as though he both was and was not surprised at my question.

"You would be allowed to do so, of course, but you must understand that this would be a hard life," he stated. "I cannot offer you any luxuries, not like those found in Elven territory. Mordor is new. We have very little. We have not even completed the construction of our own homes yet. Is that truly the life you want? Barely getting by on scraps of food, sleeping in the ruins of an old building?"

"I can bear it," I reassured him, and he seemed to consider my words as his fingertips once again traced the chain of my necklace.

"I will not make you swear your loyalty, my lady, but I would like your word that if at any point you feel as though this life is intolerable or overwhelming, you will tell me," he murmured as his eyes met mine again. "I would not see your light dimmed by such a place as this."

Gently, I laid my hands over his.

"You have my word, my lord," I murmured, and he nodded his head slowly.

"Then, welcome to Mordor, híril vuin."

--

She'd been different since the day they met. Oh, she was likely an average member of her species, but Adar had little personal experience with Humans beyond the occasional interaction. Her openness when she was a child had been endearing, especially since she hadn't thought him frightening or hideous. She'd accepted him as he was without question - even going so far as to protect him from her father's suspicion.

After she'd caught him speaking with Glûg in the middle of the night, ordering his children to leave her and her father be in Black Speech, however, Adar had thought that she'd have told her father what she'd seen...that he would be met with an arrow to the chest upon his return to their camp. Instead, she'd managed to sneak back unnoticed, and he'd taken his leave before she awakened.

Never did he think that one day as a grown woman - a lady - she would be forced to kneel at his feet. Not even with the threat of death looming over her was she afraid of him.

He'd never wanted her fear. When she was a child, he'd savored her curiosity, and now, as an adult, he found that he relished her gentleness and her acceptance. She'd been courteous to all of his children whom she'd encountered, even if such behavior earned scorn from the other Humans in their encampment. She never cowered. She never diminished herself to fit into the dull little boxes that the others of her species so consistently tried to force upon her. She was unique.

And Adar found himself growing ever more intrigued by her.

The winter wind whipped clothing, biting the skin and sinking bone-deep. Like most discomfort, Adar was used to it. He knew every survival method - one did not live for thousands of years without picking up a few helpful practices. His children had followed his example, but it was a bit harder for the Humans among them to find comfort.

Truly, though, the only one he cared about was his lady...his brave, determined lady. He remembered her looking up at him the better part of a year ago when she was forced to the ground before him. Curiosity and recognition was as obvious in her expression as the points on an Elf's ears.

Even after he'd taken their village, she hadn't hated him. She hadn't denied having sworn for him, even though that had been a lie he concocted to keep her safe and unblemished.

Seeing that remnant of his armor hanging from a chain around her neck had inspired more pride and awe in him than he'd felt in an Age. Adar had assumed that even if her father had given it to her, it was so small and insignificant that she wouldn't have bothered to keep track of it. But for her to have turned it into a necklace... The thought still sparked a wave of warmth in the Uruk's heart.

Had their encounter truly been that memorable to her?

As the bitter winter held the camp in its grip, residents and all, Adar walked amongst his children and sworn Human villagers alike, noting those things which were needed most. He turned a corner between rows of tents and half-built houses and paused at the sight of his lady and Glûg discussing the babe in the Uruk's arms. After a few moments, his lady let out a small laugh, and Glûg let out a rasping chuckle before departing with a small bow.

Before he could behave as if he'd been doing anything - anything at all - besides watching them, she turned and Adar's eyes met hers. Approaching without hesitation, she curtsied and greeted him with her customary 'good day, my lord.'

Dropping into his own low bow, Adar offered her his arm.

"Walk with me, if you would, my lady," he murmured, and she looped her arm with his. "How would you characterize the mood amongst your people here?"

They walked a few steps, she considering he answer, and he marveling at how easily they fit together. Having her at his side felt natural, as if that was where she was always meant to be.

"They are under strain, because of the winter temperatures. Perhaps they are a bit more frightened than usual, but nothing too serious," she replied. "They seem to have settled into their new routine along with your children quite well, considering the circumstances."

"And what of your own circumstances? What can I do to ease your burden?" He asked as they reached the door of her shelter.

"I can think of nothing, my lord." Adar did not believe that, but he did not contradict her, choosing instead to accept her invitation inside.

"Allow me at least," he said as he stepped inside, "to check your supplies. Firewood and the like."

"Of course," she murmured, waving him inside. One of the other ladies who shared her living space had already lit a fire in grate, and as soon as they saw Lord Adar walk inside, they quickly found other places to be.

Pretending to take a cursory view around the room, Adar slyly watched his lady move around, tidying up, even though the messes had clearly been created by the others. That he did not like, but that was a problem for a later date.

"Are you certain there is nothing I can do to improve your situation?" He asked, and she flashed him a smile bright enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Nothing, whatsoever. I'm quite comfortable here," she said walking to stand with him beside the fire. He took a long, selfish moment to indulge his desire to study her face. When his desire to reach out and touch her grew so strong that he felt he might snap, he drew and released a deep breath.

"Thank you for your indulgence, my lady. I shall leave you in peace."

Adar gave her a small bow before making his way toward the door.

"Oh, wait! Please, my lord," she called, and he turned to face her. She pulled a length of cloth from a bundle, hurrying over to him.

A familiar sense of dread curled in his abdomen. He'd been betrayed before in moments of weakness - seeing her this evening was certainly a weakness. The cloth would make a suitable garrote for a person of her size to use. Steeling himself as she approached, he realized that, though he wouldn't be surprised, her betrayal would hurt more than any other had.

He met her eyes with his as she stood on the tips of her toes to wrap the cloth around his neck...but the constriction he'd been expecting never came. Instead, she tied it carefully, tucking the ends into his armor so they wouldn't flap around in the wind.

Adar's gauntlet-covered fist relaxed as his defensiveness was replaced with confusion. He was certain that he must look as utterly befuddled as he felt, but the little smile that settled upon her lips as she examined her handiwork stole his breath.

"There. That should keep you a little warmer, at least. We cannot have the Lord of Mordor freezing, now can we?" She asked when her fingers finally fell away from the chestplate of his armor. Adar found speech difficult for a long moment. She cared for his comfort?

How was one supposed to tell someone that they'd expected death's shadow only to find kindness instead? How could he possibly explain to someone like her that at the sight of a simple makeshift scarf, he'd coiled himself as tightly as a warrior preparing to be struck without a shield or sword to defend himself? She was so considerate that she would blame herself for unsettling him, he had no doubt.

No, to say nothing would be better. Perhaps...perhaps later.

Lifting her hands gently in his own, he laid soft kisses upon her knuckles. He dared not look away. Not now. This moment was crucial - whether for just him or for them both, he knew not.

"Thank you, dear lady," he breathed, and as his eyes searched hers, he saw what he normally did in her: warmth. However, this time he saw more. There was warmth, yes, but there was also gentleness, protectiveness, and a sort of satisfaction about him not tearing the scarf from his throat - he would never do such a thing. Not when it was from her.

When he finally stepped outside once more, the wind was unable to sink its frozen teeth into his neck. The fabric, worn and discolored with age, was soft, caressing his scarred skin just as he imagined her fingers would if she ever deigned to lower herself and take him as her lover.

Her generosity made him only that much more determined to find some way to make life easier for her. For nearly a week, he was kept too busy to give the matter any serious consideration, but he did have an idea.

While she was occupied, Adar slipped into her shelter. He wished to find a way to repay her for her kindness, thus his goal was to find one of her unfulfilled needs and provide for her. He was already able to ensure that she received enough food and water, and she deserved more than he could ever give her, but he was willing to try.

After a few moments of searching, he noticed the blanket in her little sleeping area. It was thin, full of holes, and practically falling apart. It was the only one he could see.

His heart clenched in his chest. She must be nearly frozen during the night, yet she had still seen fit to give him her scarf? The growing dampness of tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away. How had she made it through the winter?

At least he could fix this for her.

Picking up the tattered blanket, he strode across the camp to find a replacement. Laying it atop a pile with other bits of cloth that needed to be repurposed, he found a stack of extra blankets. He'd already ensured that all of his children had enough to keep them warm, so one extra would not be missed.

He hastened back to her shelter, closing the door nearly silently behind him, but he quickly realized that he was not alone.

"My lord?" She called from her place beside the cold hearth. She was trying to light a fire with trembling hands. Walking over to her, Adar tucked the blanket beneath his arm and gently coaxed the flint and steel from her cold fingers.

Kneeling briefly, he struck the flint and steel once, twice, and carefully encouraged the flame to grow until a warm glow illuminated the room. When he stood again, he grasped her hands and rubbed them between his palms. He would not be content to leave her until he was certain that she would not freeze in the night.

She looked up at him in wordless wonder, and he knew for certain that his own expression had to be similar.

"Thank you, my lord," she said in barely a whisper, and in reply, he unfolded the blanket he'd brought. Though it was not nearly as soft as someone like her deserved, he knew it would hold the heat much better than her old one. Adar draped it around her shoulders, and, sweet trusting thing that she was, she made no protest about his proximity, nor did she flinch when the backs of his knuckles caressed her cheek.

She looked from him, to the blanket, and back again. Without warning, she sprang forward, wrapping her arms around his middle, but where he usually expected the bite of a dagger after such an impact, he found only comfort. He realized that she...was embracing him.

He looked down at her, only to find his nose now buried in her hair. Her scent! He'd smelled it before, but to have her this close...it was intoxicating. Carefully bracing his hands on her waist, he leaned down a little farther. The tip of his nose brushed against her warm neck, and he could almost smell her pulse racing beneath her skin.

His nose must've been cold, for that small movement was enough to startle her into leaping back. His fëa, dark and fractured as it was, wept at the loss of her, even though she'd only been in contact with him for a moment.

It had been so long since he'd been held like that.

Alarm settled into her expression and she began stammering apologies. Her new blanket slipped from one shoulder, and without a word, Adar stepped toward her and pulled it back into place.

Her voice dropped away as she realized what he was doing. His hands laid lightly upon her shoulders, sliding slowly upward until he was able to cup cup her cheeks carefully between his scarred fingers. Her eyes, now wide with wonder rather than fear, looked up at him.

"You have done nothing which warrants an apology, my lady," Adar murmured giving her small smile. She was so beautiful, so fragile compared to him. He would risk no injury coming to her. Not even the discomfort of the abating cold; slowly, their breaths became less visible as the fire grew in the hearth. "Why did you not tell me about the state of your blanket?"

"I did not wish to trouble you, my lord," she answered sheepishly. "I had already requested a replacement from the head of the Men in our section, but I was told I'd have to speak with Waldreg. Given my previous encounters with him, I...decided that the cold was preferable."

Disquiet twisted within him. Waldreg was distasteful enough without having caused his lady trouble. He was quite certain he'd tear the little worm of a Man limb from limb with a grin on his lips if he dared harm his lady.

Adar would have to speak with him about that.

"Has he mistreated you?" He tried to keep his tone as steady as possible, but a slight edge still managed to creep in.

"He expressed a few less than polite sentiments, but no more. It is not a crime for him to dislike me, my lord," she said, but her attempt to calm his ire only made him angrier on her behalf. Would she not express her anger even at someone as wretched and cruel as Waldreg?

"In future, come directly to me. You need not be afraid. I would be pleased to assist you, my lady," he promised, and his heart stuttered as she nodded her head.

As soon as he left her shelter, he sought Waldreg. The miserable little rat had much to answer for.

--

As the winter winds began to wane, I found myself increasingly glad of Lord Adar's kindness. Not shivering through the night was a pleasant change. I'd thought that after our conversation he seemed rather tense, but thus far I had seen no results.

However, as I returned from harvesting a small bunch of mushrooms for the soup that night, a vicelike grip clamped around my arm, tugging me off balance and dragging me into the small, dark alleyway between two repurposed buildings.

A hand covered my mouth just as a knifepoint pressed cold and unyielding against my racing pulse.

"You vicious little bitch," a familiar voice snarled against my ear. "What lies did you tell him? How did you make him hate me?"

I whimpered in fear but dared not move for fear of the sharp steel at my throat.

"'You will not treat my children or those pledged to me with disrespect,' he said. He's had me shoveling shit in the kennels for weeks, and word around camp is that he only came to me after speaking with you!" Waldreg sounded furious, and, indeed, I could detect the lingering scent of the wargs' leavings clinging to my attacker and his clothing. The more agitated he grew, the more his hands shook. Pain pricked my skin, and a hot red tear trickled down my neck staining the neckline of my dress. "What'd you do? Lift your skirt for him? Whisper in those ragged little ears of his? Give me one good reason I shouldn't gut you here and feed you to the wargs."

I began struggling in earnest, but his anger kept his grip tight. Still his hand covered my mouth, preventing any attempts at speech. A cruel laugh trickled across my ears, and he dragged his knife downwards until it rested directly above my heart.

"I thought not." I tried to cringe away, but that accomplished nothing save fueling the cruel old bastard's amusement as tears rolled down my cheeks. "Say goodnight!"

Instead of the bite of a blade, however, I was abruptly released. A gurgling sound came from behind me, and when I turned, I saw Lord Adar's gauntlet-covered hand lifting Waldreg off the ground by his throat. The cold glare on the Uruk's face revealed not a single mite of mercy for the Man thrashing in his grasp.

"My lady, go inside. I will join you in a moment," Adar called, and after a single shocked blink, I rushed off to do as he'd ordered. My basket lay in the mud, entirely forgotten amongst the chaos. A small crowd of Uruks had gathered around to witness Waldreg's demise and jeer at him, but I couldn't stay.

As terrible as he was, I didn't want to. Trembling, I closed the door after myself and stumbled toward my sleeping space. Quickly wrapping the blanket Adar had given me around my shoulders, I tried to steady my breathing instead of listening to the commotion outside.

I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there when the crowd fell silent and the door finally opened. Terrified that Waldreg had somehow survived and was coming to seek his revenge, I backed into the corner beside the hearth and tried to stay as small as possible.

I had no weapons with which to fight. Hiding would be my only chance to survive, especially if Adar had not been able to stop him.

--

"My lady?" Adar's voice called gently into the space, though he saw no sign of her. He spotted a small movement from the far side of the hearth. Why was she hiding? Her eyes were wide and fearful, even as he approached.

Suddenly her assertion about Waldreg expressing 'a few less than polite sentiments, but no more' felt grossly incorrect. If she was this frightened, he must've threatened her.

Adar hoped that she heard him screaming his apologies before his death.

Or...could it be that he'd finally managed to frighten her with his cruelty? That thought sent a bolt of icy dread through him.

Dropping silently to his knees beside her, he unclipped his gauntlet and dropped it beside him. He wouldn't dare touch her while wearing it after it had touched that scum, not without cleaning it first. He offered her his hand, afterwards, and she accepted it without hesitation.

She needed no coaxing to come to him, shuffling over and resting before him on her knees with her blanket still around her shoulders.

"You need not fear, my lady. He will haunt your steps no more," he murmured, and the relieved little sniffle that escaped her had Adar moving closer and gently brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

His skin was rough, but he was careful. He didn't want to hurt her, or for her to fear him. She had every right to after she'd seen him lifting Waldreg off the ground in the midst of his rage. He certainly would not blame her, but he did not want that. If ever she shrank away from him as she'd tried to do from that contemptible worm earlier, he thought his heart may shatter irreparably.

So, with the most soothing tone he could muster - one he'd not used in over an Age - he placed a gentle kiss upon her brow and spoke.

"You are safe with me, híril vuin. None shall raise a hand to you again." Carefully, he pulled the edge of the blanket away just far enough to see the small trail of dried blood from where she'd been cut. Regret was as foul upon his tongue as bile.

He should have found them sooner. Moving away only long enough to fetch a pitcher of water and a cloth, Adar sat close to her upon his return. He began to wipe her skin clean in slow, careful strokes, murmuring quiet, earnest praise for how brave she'd been and for trusting him to help her.

She rested her cheek upon his shoulder as he set the cloth aside, prompting him instinctively to wrap his arms around her and brace his chin atop her head.

"Thank you, my lord," she breathed, and he was acutely aware of his own heart racing in his chest. Could she hear its rhythm even with the chestplate of his armor in the way?

As he began to tell her that he'd done no more than his duty, the door to her shelter opened, revealing the three other ladies who shared the small space with her. Adar grated at the interruption, despite their low curtsies as soon as they caught sight of him holding his lady in his arms.

"Sleep elsewhere tonight," he ordered them, and once they'd departed, he let out a tense breath. Speaking then to his lady, he softened his tone once more. "Tomorrow, I shall have you moved to chambers befitting one of your station."

She blinked beautifully up at him, dampness clinging to her lashes like dewdrops in the early morn.

"'My station,' my lord?"

A slow smile stretched his lips.

"Indeed. If you are to serve at the right hand of the Lord of Mordor, you cannot be seen huddling in the corner of a ruined shack."

Her eyes went wide, and her lips parted in a near-silent gasp.

"A-At your right hand?"

He nodded his head in confirmation.

"Assuming that such a thought appeals to you, of course," he said, but the smile that lit up her face told him all that he needed to know about her enthusiasm.

--

The next morning, I awoke wrapped in Lord Adar's arms and the blanket he'd given me. I should've felt embarrassment, but I could muster no more than a groggy sense that I was exactly where I was meant to be.

As soon as we managed to peel ourselves from the ground, we gathered my meager possessions, and Adar led me to the tavern. He had ruled from there since day one, but I hadn't been aware until that moment that he'd been living there as well. I supposed that his choice made sense. The upper level was where the owner used to live, having the benefit of a bedroom and a small bathing room complete with a claw-foot tub.

"Unless you object, we shall be sharing the bedroom," he explained as we climbed the creaky wooden staircase. "I'm afraid that there was little more than a musty mattress here to begin with, so I'll have a second bedroll brought up today. If there is anything you require once you have settled in, please do not hesitate to tell me."

"Thank you, my lord," I replied, and as I set myself up on one side of the room directly across from his own sleeping area, one of his children called him away to handle a conflict on the other side of the camp.

Late that night, I walked into the small communal area where Lord Adar sat by the fire, gazing into its depths as if it held the answers to all of his questions. Not wishing to disturb his thoughts, I began to move away, but a quiet call of my name in that deliciously raspy voice of his froze me in place.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" He called, and I turned to find his gaze already fixed on me.

"Yes, my lord," I murmured, "thank you for allowing me to stay here."

"The pleasure is mine. Come, warm yourself by the fire," he offered, and I dropped to my knees on the furs beside him. We sat in companionable silence for a while with only the crackling of the fire in the grate reaching our ears. "Something troubles you, does it not?"

I nodded my head and he tilted his head beside me.

"Tell me." Despite his soft tone, the command made me bite my lip.

"I...My lord, given the new position with which you have honored me, I believe it..." I stumbled over the words, eventually taking a deep breath to compose myself. "Would it not be inappropriate for me to continue in this particular role without having sworn my loyalty to you?"

The question came out in a breathless rush, but Adar either did not notice over the hissing of the fire or he was too polite to comment upon it.

"So far as all the others are concerned, you did so before we ever took your village." His eyes skimmed the length of my face as he spoke. "As you will recall, I promised you that I would not force you to do so."

"And you have kept to your word," I began. "I have not felt coerced. I offer my loyalty to you freely."

Adar sat up straighter and drew in a sharp breath.

"You only need do so if you truly wish for us to be bound," he said placing his hand softly atop mine where it rested amongst the furs. His eyes searched mine as if trying to determine whether I was serious.

"I'm certain, my lord," I said, and he, apparently finding what he was looking for, gave a solemn nod of his head.

"Very well. As with your kin, Black Speech is not a language known to you, thus I will not require your vow in that tongue," he murmured, and I couldn't stop the question that fell from my lips.

"Would it be possible to learn at some point?"

Adar smiled, a mix of pride and surprise playing across his features in the glowing, flickering light of the fire.

"I shall teach you personally, híril vuin," he promised, and his expression became more serious. "Have you ever sworn loyalty to another?"

"No, my lord."

"Do you recall the words being spoken during the oaths of fealty given by your people?"

"Yes, my lord." I bowed my head, intending to show my respect in that manner, but warm, gentle fingers grasped my chin and lifted my head back up. Adar's gaze met my own, and unless the firelight was deceiving me, I saw a soft sort of affection swimming in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Before all else, I wish you to swear that you will never bow to me unless I explicitly give you the order to do so," he rasped as his thumb brushed over my lower lip.

"I swear it, my lord. I will not bow to you unless you give me the order to do so." Having extracted that promise, he seemed satisfied to allow me to continue as I had been. His fingers fell away from my chin only to grasp my own and lay them atop his chest where beneath his heart lay beating. "I hereby swear my allegiance to you, Adar, Lord-Father of the Uruks, founder of the land of Mordor...and protector of mortal children silly enough to wander the forest alone. This I pledge from until the last breath leaves my body."

Adar listened with something akin to wonder in his eyes, and when I finished, his eyes strayed down to my lips. But...something seemed off.

"Is...something amiss, my lord? I could always use different words, if you prefer...?"

He shook his head quietly.

"There was no fault in your diction."

"Then...what troubles you?" I asked, unconsciously repeating his own words from earlier. He shifted before me, as if he was bothered by what he was about to say. Regretful, perhaps?

"An oath means little on its own," Adar murmured unsheathing a small knife that he'd apparently concealed upon his person. "Only blood can bind."

Whose blood did he mean? Did he want me to use it on myself? Did he wish to use it on me? Or did he want me to use it on us both?

An idea struck me, and I grasped my necklace in the palm of my left hand. Carefully, I set his knife aside, guiding his gauntlet-covered hand over mine. Looking into his eyes, I felt the unyielding metal dig into the soft skin of my hand. Without warning, I squeezed his hand, which in turn forced the sharp, ancient metal deep enough into my skin to draw blood. As comprehension dawned in his eyes, his pupils dilated, and something resembling hunger turned his gaze into a blazing flame boring into me.

His hand released mine long enough for the pendant to fall from my grasp, and when he turned my palm upwards, twin gashes welled with blood. Swallowing heavily, Adar lifted my hand, and as his lips met crimson, his eyes sought mine.

A gasp tumbled from my throat as his tongue lapped slowly at my skin, just barely grazing the inner edges of the two weeping cuts. It stung, of course, but the pain combined with such a ravenous stare from the Uruk lord sent a wave of heat rushing between my legs.

A breathy, wanton whimper escaped me, and in a blink, I found myself on my back atop the furs with my lord straddling my hips. He pressed my bleeding palm against his cheek, and, bracing his free hand on the floor beside my head, Adar placed a line of fiery kisses along the column of my throat from hollow to chin with his blood-drenched lips.

I'd wanted him to look at me like this, to touch me and desire me like this, from the moment we were reunited, and now that he was, it was as though my very soul had been lit aflame. I wanted everything he wished to give me, and then some.

Before his mouth had the chance to claim mine, however, there was a rough knock on the door. Adar pulled back a few inches, and we stared into each other's eyes, panting together as reality sank back in and a second knock sounded.

"I think you ought to retire for the night, my lady," he rasped laying a final kiss upon my palm before getting to his feet. My blood was a dark red streak upon his face, but he seemed not to care. He called for whoever was at the door to wait a moment, taking the time to help me to my feet and bidding me goodnight before seeing to our caller. His lips were still the deep red shade of the life flowing through my mortal veins.

I hurried up the stairs to our shared sleeping space before I could see who'd interrupted us. With a quick glance into the cracked fragment of a mirror stowed in the corner of the room, I saw a sloppy, red trail where Adar's lips had been.

I didn't bother to clean it off before I crawled into my bedroll, choosing instead to slip my fingers beneath my smallclothes as I recalled the feeling of him doing as he wished with me. With a broken, muffled whine of his name against my blanket, I found completion, but a part of me wondered how much more satisfying it would have been had his fingers been in place of mine.

--

The next fortnight felt as though it was a specialized form of torture. Adar seemed to be called away by a never-ending series of problems that required solutions. Often his day began earlier than I awoke and ended long after I'd retired to bed. Ensuring I'd completed every task he'd left for me was the least I could do considering how busy his own position kept him.

Occasionally, we did still manage to sneak a meal or a short conversation with one another, but we had yet to discuss what had happened the night I pledged myself to him. Almost every night, the memory of the hunger in his eyes drove me to desperation, haunting my dreams and forcing me to muffle my cries as I tended to my own burning desire.

One of the few times he returned before I fell asleep, I'd just whimpered his name into my pillow. As he ascended the staircase, I heard his footsteps, and I tried to muffle my shame as it was too late to stop entirely. The fear of discovery lanced through me as I heard he approached the door. I tried to steady my breathing, and hoped that in the low lighting, he would not notice how disheveled I looked.

Either I was successful, or he was in a sadistic mood, because he sidled over to his own bedroll and began stripping down. I'd seen him without the armor before, but when he shucked off his upper garments, the sight of his scarred, toned torso was enough to make me bite my tongue to stifle a gasp.

The outline of his masculinity in his trousers as he laid his clothing in a neat pile sent a fresh wave of wetness soaking my inner thighs. Oh, how was I meant to sleep after seeing...that?

Adar laid down, and just when I thought he'd fallen asleep, his voice broke through the silence.

"Sweet dreams, my lady." I could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

Oh. My cheeks burned at the realization that he'd likely heard me.

"...Good night, my lord," I murmured, hating how shaky I sounded.

--

Spring changed very few things in Mordor, save the temperatures, yet with each passing day, Adar's lady seemed to smile just a little wider.

He wanted to give her more reasons to do so, however. It was not enough that they had been living in close quarters since that night in her shelter. It was not enough that he'd made her smile and laugh before. Adar needed to do it again.

But more than that, he needed to hear those things which it was not at all civilized to consider. It was not enough that he had tasted her blood and her skin and her racing pulse. He'd heard her make beautiful, pleasure-filled sounds when she thought he was out of earshot or asleep. But it was never enough. He needed to hear her moan his name, to see her arch her back beneath him in the throes of ecstasy. He needed her.

Teasing her had been as much a torture for him as it likely was for her. Adar had become addicted to pain in one form or another over the millennia, and the mental strain of denying himself the pleasure of her touch was not unfamiliar, but it was forcing him to a breaking point, nonetheless. He knew that he would likely snap as he had when she'd sworn him her loyalty. That rush had been like a dam releasing an unstoppable flood, his hunger turning him into a ravenous beast.

She hadn't minded, as he thought she might. She'd enjoyed it. The sight of her lying beneath him panting as her blood practically dripped from his lips made him achingly hard each time he dwelled upon the memory for too long.

Still, she deserved better. Better than him, better than a moment of animalistic need. He found himself wondering about how best to give her all of himself.

Adar supposed that was how he'd ended up in the doorway of the small bathing room. The claw-footed tub was filled with steaming water as he'd ordered, and relaxing within it was his lady. She'd deserved a moment of peace after having completed every single task he'd given her with such dedication. It was a small reward, hardly as much as she deserved, but at the moment, it was all he could give.

He tried not to allow his gaze to drop beneath the water's surface, but his restraint was weak after the last two weeks of self-imposed denial. Truly, he intended merely to check that she was well, but the temptation of seeing her soft skin dripping with hot water was too great. The Lord of Mordor lingered in the doorway just long enough to feel his lower garments grow tight, and for her eyes to meet his as his lust clawed at his restraint.

As a moth drawn to a flame, he found himself walking slowly into the room, summoned by her curious gaze. The hot water reached her collarbones, and Adar felt the urge rising within him to claim her.

He knelt beside the tub, his face mere inches from her own, and removed his armor, gauntlet and all. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and dipped a washcloth into the hot water. The back of his hand brushed against the swell of her breast, and they both let out quiet gasps.

Still, Adar refused to look down into the depths of the sage blossom oil scented water. Wringing the washcloth out until it was just wet enough him to clean his face, he began to do so, only for his lady to take it from his hands. With her breasts pressed up against the side of the tub, her soft, gentle fingers held his head in place as she gently wiped away the grime.

Without a word, he turned his head and kissed her palm where twin scars were already forming. Adar would've preferred that she spill his own blood - that was what he'd originally intended - but since she'd chosen that pain, the least he could do was show the proper amount of reverence for her actions.

"Is there anything you need, Adar?" Her voice was shaky and breathless as it so often was when he caught her off-guard.

"No. This night is for you. Relax as long as you wish," he murmured, but as he stood to leave her in peace, he noted that she tried valiantly to hide her disappointment. Without turning back - if he did, he might do something impulsive - he called over his shoulder, "Patience, my lady, and you shall have all that you desire."

His hardness did not abate until long after they'd settled into their bedrolls and her breathing had evened out in the serenity of sleep.

Adar could not wait much longer. Her sweetness was as a siren's call to him.

Thus, his plan began to form. Once the spring was fully upon them, he approached her as he often did for conversation.

"My lady, I wonder if you might spare me a moment of your time?" He asked, and she smiled joyfully up at him - truly, that should not have made his heart stutter the way it did.

"Of course, my lord. You may have as much of my time as you desire," she replied, and oh, she had no idea what she was offering!

"Do you enjoy riding horses?"

She tilted her head curiously, but the way her smile widened had him mentally congratulating himself for selecting this particular tactic.

"I do, though, it has been quite some time since I've had the opportunity."

"Come," he urged offering her his hand. She didn't hesitate to take it. The feeling of her touch would be seared into his mind for as long as he lived. Drawing her close, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I intend to steal you away."

Her lips parted in surprise, and just as he was about to apologize for his forthrightness, she squeezed his fingers in hers.

"I could not hope to be stolen by any more worthy." His breath hitched in his chest, and he tamped down the temptation to skip his plan entirely and take her atop his own sleeping furs. No. He'd been alive since before the waking of the world. He could wait a little longer.

"Then, maybe I should play the part...?" Adar suggested with a mischievous smirk. Before she could ask what he meant, he lifted her by the waist, tossed her over his shoulder - an action which tugged a surprised shriek from her lips - and carried her to his horse that way.

"My lord!"

"My lady!" He called back in answer as he felt her gentle, mortal hands lay across the back of his armor. Surely she knew he would never drop her?

Soon, he placed her atop his mount, and she giggled breathlessly at the situation. Her mussed hair and bright eyes lit a spark within his heart, and lower, not that he would admit it to any save her. Swinging up easily, he settled in behind her, grasping the horse's reins in one hand and bracing the other over the softness of her diaphragm. As close as they were, he was in the perfect position to whisper in her ear.

"Fear not, my lady," he breathed, "you shan't fall."

One of her hands covered his, and he urged their horse forward. For nearly two hours they rode, crossing from ashen, desolate terrain into the gentle rolling grasses of the land beyond Mordor's fiery shadow.

The rhythmic roll of her hips against his became almost hypnotic. The Lord of Mordor he might be, but his restraint was still utterly devastated by her. They dismounted when they reached a meadow peppered with small saplings.

Tying their horse's reins to a sturdy one, Adar offered his lady his hand. The sun was just beginning to glow a gentle orange. It would set soon, and he greatly desired to see his lady bathed in starlight.

"It is no secret that I favor you, my lady," Adar began as they wandered leisurely amongst the blooming flowers, and that was the closest he'd ever come to an admission...to a confession of that nature. "Even the Uruks farthest from the center of our camp know that I...that you are under my protection."

"Indeed. I would say that is true," she agreed, clearly not certain at what point he was driving with his rambling. "I am honored beyond words to have your favor and protection, my lord–"

"Adar. Here - anywhere away from prying eyes and unwelcome ears - you may call me Adar," he corrected gently, and her fingers squeezed his in gratitude. "I brought you here today, because I wish to ask for your counsel."

"You shall always have it, Adar," she assured, "though, I am not certain what advice I could provide that would be wiser than your own. I have very little experience with war and strategy."

He stopped walking and turned to face her - a mistake, because she was almost ethereally encompassed by the warmth of the sunset. He swallowed heavily to recover his voice.

"It is not war about which I require your thoughts," he began, bringing her hand to his ruined lips. "I have lived in shadow for so long, yet recently I have found myself prey to a feeling which I have not experienced in many Ages."

She tilted her head curiously.

"What might that be?"

Adar reached gently toward her with his free hand, cupping her cheek.

"Love," he rasped, looking into her eyes, hoping she would catch the meaning within his words. Admitting that a horrid creature like him had fallen head over heels for a beautiful being like her was tantamount to sacrilege. Yet...in several instances, he believed that he'd seen his own affection reflected in her eyes. Indeed, the moans he'd heard from her would seem to indicate that she desired him.

But it was too much to hope that she could love him. He was certain she desired him, but...love? Could a Human woman truly love an Uruk when the rest of her kind looked down on them in scorn and disgust? Had he been a fool to bring her here?

She stepped closer to him, looking up into his eyes–

Her expression stole his breath. He had not hung the stars in the sky, nor had he wrought treasures like the Silmarils. He had not created even a single thing of beauty. All he'd done was try to give his children a home.

And yet...she looked at him as though he was more worthy of praise than the most virtuous of kings, the most honorable of knights, and the most devoted of husbands. Could it be possible?

Could she...?

"I am afraid that I have little experience with love, Adar, but I will help if I can." As afraid as he might be of losing her, he must speak now or lose her forever.

"In your opinion, who is worthy of love?" He asked, and she let out a small huff of laughter, as if the question was a foolish one. "Have I said something amusing?"

"A bit," she admitted, but she was quick to place her free hand over his heart, "but not in the way you might think. Everyone is worthy of love, even - and, perhaps, most especially - the Lord-Father of the Uruks."

Was he truly so transparent that she could see his fears so easily? Or had she managed to worm her way so far into his heart without his knowledge that it was already a bosom companion to her own?

"...And you have it." His eyes snapped back up to hers - when had he looked away? His hunger and adoration for her rose up in a great wave, consuming him from the inside as he wove his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and drew her into a passionate kiss.

He'd dreamed of having her pressed up against him, of drinking her pleasure from her lips.

She moaned into Adar's mouth, and he was struck by the realization that she was so much better than any phantom images that his imagination could conjure. He dragged his lips and teeth to the corner of her jaw, and spoke in a hoarse, rasping whisper.

"I need you as I need air, meleth-nin." He grasped her waist as her arms drew him ever closer. "You steal my breath, yet without you I cannot breathe. Have mercy....Have mercy upon your most devoted servant..."

As the orange sky bled pink, his lips trailed down her neck, savoring those places which had driven him to the edge of madness when he sampled her before the fire. His name escaped her lips on the back of a desperate whine.

"What do you need? Tell me," Adar breathed, and she tilted her head to offer him more of her neck.

"Take me, touch me, please! I'll be good, so good, only for you," she begged, and the sound went straight to the stiffening length between his legs. He would love nothing more than to have her beg for him all night, but this time she would have no need to. Tonight, the beginning of their time as one, he would fulfill her every desire with a minimum of teasing. He'd done too much of that of late.

Her fingers dove into his hair, and a moan poured from his throat, rumbling against her pretty skin.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to be a good girl for me?" She released a varied stream of yeses and pleas for him to do as he wished with her, and he acceded to her request with a kiss, quelling any doubt she may have had that he would do this for her. He would do anything for her, even unto the destruction of Middle Earth. "Do you wish to be mine?"

"Yes!" Her answer was akin to a desperate sob, and he wasted no time, immediately indulging her.

Tugging his cloak from his armor, Adar spread it over the grass. He would not have her dress covered in stains, nor grass blades stuck to her skin. The cloth created a sharp contrast - an onyx patch amidst a sea of pinks, purples, reds, and yellows - the dark to the meadow's light, just as she was the light to his darkness. She completed him, enthralled him, drove him mad, and tonight he would show her just how much.

She went for the ties fastening her dress, but he caught her hands in his and took over. She was a gift more precious than anything which the Valar could bestow upon their servants, and he would unwrap her accordingly.

As the laces binding the back of her dress fell away one at a time, Adar explored his lover's mouth with all the tenderness and gentleness that his cruel, twisted body could muster. He hadn't even realized that her tricky little fingers had begun to fiddle with his armor until his breastplate fell away.

In a flurry of discarded garments, they were each revealed to the other in all their beauty and all their flaws. Their shared vulnerability stilled their hands for an anxious moment, but only for a moment.

Adar's breath hitched in his chest when the soft lips he'd tasted mere seconds before connected with the scarred flesh over his heart. He'd expected pity, fear, regret - not reverence. Instead, as she looked up at him, he saw nothing but sincerity in her expression.

"You are gorgeous," she said, as though she could not tell that he had but one part of his body which was untouched by scars.

...As though she meant it. He realized with a sharp intake of breath that she did. She grasped his hands and they sank onto his cloak together, she on her back and he kneeling between her legs. His interest jutted toward her, but he could not find it within himself to be ashamed, not when he was with her. Not when a piece of his armor hung on a chain around her neck, resting comfortably above her breast.

"There is no beauty finer in this world than yours."

Spread nude before him over his cloak, Adar's lady looked up at him with an adoration he had not believed possible. Not when directed at an Uruk such as he. His lips met hers once more, but this time, he forced himself to be much more controlled. He wanted her, yes, but he also wanted her to know that she had his love.

Kissing his way steadily down her body, the Lord-Father of the Uruks had no doubt that he must look as hungry for her as he felt. Practically feral with pent-up desire, he needed her writhing on his tongue. His hands trembled with the effort it took to slow his movements, to take his time.

Abruptly, as his eyes met hers from between her legs, he realized that she very much had the capacity to destroy him. With a single declaration of hatred or a look of disgust, she could easily take his stone heart and pulverize it into powder.

How easily could she shred beyond repair what little remained of his soul!

Not even Morgoth had been able to do that. This mortal woman, this sweet, brave lady had no idea of the power that she possessed. The smart thing to do - the strategically wise path - would have been to kill her then and there while she lay vulnerable and trusting before him, begging for one more touch, one more kiss, one more moan, one more scrap of his attention.

Instead, he picked up his discarded gauntlet and slid her much smaller hand inside it. The clasps were quick work, and though she looked confused at first, once he lifted her thighs over his shoulders and guided her hand to his hair, understanding dawned in her eyes. She understood. He wanted her to feel powerful. She was his equal and she deserved to know it.

Even with sharp, unyielding metal covering her fingertips, they scraped so gently over his scalp as lost himself in the flood between her thighs. She moaned and whimpered, squirming in his hold, but through it all, she never once hurt him.

Adar knew that she wouldn't. Even as she cried out his name for all the world to hear, drenching his tongue and chin, her grip in his hair was careful. Her thighs tensed in his grasp, squeezing his head in an intoxicating vice. Groaning and snarling against her sensitive folds, he couldn't bring himself to pull away until she was shaking in the midst of over-sensitivity.

"Adar, please," she breathed as he moved up her body. Hunger raged and burned in his eyes - he could deny himself no longer. Grasping her wrists, he pinned them easily above her head as he claimed her lips. His tongue delved into the softness of her mouth, taking with it the lingering taste of her.

Her legs wrapped around his hips, drawing him close enough for his tip to catch on her entrance. With synchronized groans, he pressed inside of her, joining their bodies together as one.

Profane language not meant for the ears of such a creature as her spilled from his throat in a guttural stream of Black Speech. Dipping his head, Adar moaned against her breast and surged forward, drawing a sinful mewl from deep within her throat.

"You have me. You take me so well," he praised in a raspy whisper, nibbling at her earlobe as he thrust into her slowly. Gradually, she stripped him of his sense and control, tugging from within him a steady flow of praise and filth in Elvish and Black Speech - promises to treasure her for the rest of his days, to protect her, and to draw from her so many screams each night that all of Mordor would be unable to deny his claim over her.

When she managed to roll her hips beneath him to meet his thrusts, begging him to use her, to ruin her, what could he do but grant his lady's wish?

In a quick movement, he'd repositioned them both so that she was astride his hips. Pulling her arms behind her back and tugging slightly so that her chest was pushed toward him, Adar looked into her eyes.

"If you wish your lord to use you, then move those hips," he ordered. Leaning in, he brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear and whispered a bit more gently to her. "Ride me, meleth. Show me that I have you."

She obeyed him instantly, finding a steady rhythm which, aided by his fingers toying with her clit, would have her tipping over the edge in mere moments. Indeed, her hips soon stuttered, and he gripped the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Do not look away. Look at the pleasure I can give you," he commanded, and as she nodded frantically, beginning to fall apart, he felt his heart stutter in his chest. "Yes, look upon the Uruk who loves you."

At that she sobbed and collided firmly with her orgasm. She fluttered around his length, calling his name in lovelorn stutters and gasps.

Who needed Valinor when she was its very embodiment?

He released her wrists, and she threw her arms around his neck, claiming his lips with her own. His hands slid down her back, landing squarely on her hips. Holding her steady, Adar thrust up into her, making her yelp in surprise. He needed very little now; he was close.

"Where do you wish me?" Adar breathed against her lips, and he could feel the heat burning her cheeks.

"Inside," she answered hiding her face against his neck, and he moaned against her shoulder. Her name tore from him in an almost pained whine as he spilled within her. He clutched her to him so tightly that he'd undoubtedly left bruises in his wake, but he would kiss them all in apology when they'd caught their breath.

Neither seemed eager to release the other, so in their embraced they remained exploring one another with gentle fingers and loving lips until long after the moon had risen and stars had winked their way into the sky. When he dared to lean back far enough to look into her eyes, Adar was met with love bathed in glittering starlight.

He wondered if he'd hurt her, but the smile stretching her lips said otherwise. The armor piece that she'd made into a necklace still rested upon the smooth expanse of her chest - a perfect accompaniment to his gauntlet upon her arm.

The ride back to camp seemed too short by far, but their bedrolls - which would soon be joined into one - called out to them so sweetly. Adar was used to the bows and deference he received from his children, but he knew in his heart that his decision had been right when upon their return he heard the Uruks repeating a particular phrase as they passed.

His lover had heard part of it before, but now there were a few more words to it.

"What is that they keep saying?" She whispered the question to him, and he couldn't keep himself from smiling proudly. "It sounds familiar, but different."

"'Tis Black Speech. They are saying 'make way for the Lord and Lady of Mordor,'" he answered kissing her temple as they approached their home.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1 @horta-in-charge @gandalfthepimp

[aubvrns]

"Longer Than A Fortnight"

| SVU & Headcanons

Synopsis — Their love languages towards you, and the kind they want to receive.

Note — Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler, Alexandra Cabot, Casey Novak

(Female centered, but no pronouns used.)

!!

Olivia Benson

• — Olivia Benson is 100% acts of service.

• — She is the kind of lover that will tie your shoelaces, even if she’s running late.

• — WILL AND I MEAN WILL, do the simplest tasks for you just because she can!

• — "What you do mean you went out to get groceries? Without me?"

• — Her way of saying "I love you." is to comb your hair after you finished showering, and she asks you to sit on her lap as she does. (biting my fists rn)

• — Though, she craves for words of affirmation.

• — She didn’t grow up in a home where she felt appreciated, nor did she ever felt the comfort of her parents.

• — But she knew she loved you when you told her the sweetest sentence ever.

• — "I love you so much that you make me get out of bed to get groceries."

• — Seconds later, you felt arms behind you. Not long enough before your shoulder dampens.

Elliot Stabler

• — This man is so quality time.

• — He knows he has a dangerous job that occupies his time, hours and hours in the precinct.

• — But any chance he gets, he will come home to you.

• — "Pack your bags, we’re going to Italy!"

• — He’s afraid of losing you, or letting you go to the plane’s bathroom because you’re comfortable in his arms.

• — Amidst the turbulence, he enjoys your physical touch.

• — From all the abuse and torment he witnessed, it’s rare for him to feel safe nowadays.

• — That’s why he isn’t afraid to admit that he loves the way you kiss his forehead, trace patterns on his gentle calloused hands, or spooning him when he gets nightmares.

• — "Italy won’t run away, let’s just stay 5 more minutes in bed."

• — More so, your vanilla scented hair was his view of a vacation.

Alexandra Cabot

• — Shoot me when I say this blonde’s love language isn’t giving gifts.

• — Being a lawyer with an amazing conviction rate also means having money, money, money!

• — She enjoys spoiling you, giving you everything you need and want just because she can. She refuses to let you reach for your wallet, at all.

• — "I bought the necklace you stared at earlier!"

• — Besides your lips, Ms. Cabot also tracks your eyes. (i would like to have you for christmas)

• — Starring at you, she never noticed how much she longed for acts of service.

• — Her parents were always away, and she was left alone. Her parents’ money were their way of saying they’re sorry they couldn’t come to her graduation.

• — She was surprised when you called in sick, even though she was the one coughing like there’s no tomorrow.

• — "What do you mean I could’ve bought myself medicine instead of your necklace?"

• — You can’t help but smile as you sat beside her laying body, wiping her warm face with a wet cloth as she explains how much your necklace reminds her of your eyes.

Casey Novak

• — This redheaded loser in a hot body cannot go on a day without physical touch.

• — She was raised as an affectionate child, expressing her love greatly as her parents did.

• — Her auburn hair is as warm as her as you lay between her arms, her face on the crook of your neck as she sleeps soundly.

• — "If only court saw how soft and adorable you are when you sleep, you wouldn’t seem so intimidating." You say, playing with her hair.

• — Smiling lovingly, she unconsciously pulls you closer.

• — Aside from her comfort, she adores your words of affirmation.

• — She was the kid who would wait in her teachers’ approval, hoping that she did good enough for their expectations.

• — Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait anymore.

• — "You think I look soft and adorable when I sleep? I think I want to kiss you right now."

• — And she did, like the soft and adorable loser she is.

!!

[gffa]

Final verdict on Padawan's Pride? Feel free to spoil as I'm really curious about your thoughts on this!

I braced myself before listening (knowing how much anti jedi stuff bleeds into anything star wars these days...) but I'm about an hour in and surprisingly (tentatively) enjoying it! There have been a few moments that genuinely made me laugh out loud! Like Anakin straight up going "What would *you* know about intimidation?" to poor Obi-Wan sfghdjdkdlkl & Obi-Wan insisting to Yoda that they both deserve to be punished for Anakin sneaking off even after the council basically lets them off the hook and Anakin furiously shaking his head at him to shut!! up!!! & that mini Vader tease when Anakin's getting ready for the race!!

I'm enjoying Obi-Wan's characterization in this a lot so far, and I don't want to punt Anakin off a cliff like I usually do, which is nice.

Obi-Wan still grieving for Qui-Gon and spending his nights staying up to investigate his death got me right in the feels :( Him over thinking every single thing he does with Anakin while Anakin's thinking he's basically emotionless,,, but then when Obi-Wan's trying to awkwardly apologise/connect with him later and being vulnerable, Anakin is completely uncomfortable & internally going OBI-WAN??? HAS?? FEELINGS??? ABORT!! ABORT!!! DO NOT WANT!!!

I can't give a final verdict yet--I got about an hour and a half into it, realized, okay, no, there's just too much I wanted to quote and clip out for liveblogging and Jedi Citations, so I started over and am converting to text as I go, so now I'm back up to about an hour in.

And so far I love this book! Yeah, there's a couple of moments that made me wary, like I didn't know where this was going, but honestly I think the book is doing a really, really good job of presenting the characters as having the space to actually be characters.

What I mean is, for example, Anakin saying that the Jedi Temple is a prison and he hates it--Obi-Wan's response cuts through that, (Oh, well, perhaps we should take a trip to see the younglings with the laser swords, a thing prisons are famous for.) but not at the expense of Anakin's understandable frustration. He's a bored kid who craves excitement and the rush of adventure, which is understandable! It's something he's trying to work on, he's not evil for it, it's totally reasonable and understandable, just as it's totally reasonable and understandable for Obi-Wan to point out the flaw in that statement.

But what really made me love the book is when that comment comes up later and Obi-Wan makes a joke about it, and Anakin grumbles, "I wondered when you were going to throw that in my face." and Obi-Wan smiles and says he did, too. They were bantering about it! They made a joke about it! They found it kinda funny! This is what's delightful about the book, that the feelings they both went through earlier are genuine, but they're not Direly Serious in this moment in time.

They're allowed breathing room to not be mouthpieces for a meta essay, but instead characters in a story going through things.

It's the same for Anakin being all ABORT!! ABORT!!! ABORT!!!! when Obi-Wan is having feelings at him, it's the same when Obi-Wan insists that, no, they should be punished for Anakin's mischief (when the Jedi Council basically said, okay, what we're going to do is send you on a mission, instead of any kind of punishment for either of them), it's the same when Anakin misses his mom and Tatooine.

The moments are allowed genuine emotional weight, I have such affection and heart-wrenching feelings for both Obi-Wan and Anakin here, but it's characters being given space to be characters with their own personal motivations and reasons, to have conflict between them, but both doing their best to reach out to the other, and you can see the foundations being laid for their future incredible friendship.

I'm also utterly delighted by just how many times these two are psychically connected, like they are CONSTANTLY sensing each other--Anakin sensing Obi-Wan scratching at his incoming beard is HILARIOUS, no wonder Anakin hates Obi-Wan's beard, I'd hate it, too, if it was in my mind making me itchy!

But also that they know each other, they don't have to even be looking at each other to feel what the other feels, because that's what a Force bond is--knowing someone so well that they're connected to your soul, even when you're cranky af at them.

I still have three hours of the book left to go but I've enjoyed so much already and I apologize in advance to those who are exhausted by the two hundred screenshots I'm going to be yelling about. :D

[blakbonnet]

HAPPY FOX DAY TO ALL THOSE WHO CELEBRATE! Today's a special special AOTW because our featured author this week is best beloved @asneakyfox 🦊

Fox, I genuinely think you're one of the greatest fandom philosophers of our times, and what you write is so much more than regular old meta. Because we're all playing in the sandbox here and while a lot of us lose sight of canon sometimes, you have all four feet firmly planted in the lovely source material we've been provided with. And you don't stop there, you try to actively engage with the community, especially making sure you are keeping an eye on all the differing opinions. I feel like this is why your thesis resonates so thoroughly with different people--it's not trying to prove a point, it's very 'holmes saw a dead body and ejaculated'. You are just so smart that you make the rest of us smarter, but it's never intimidating to talk to you, and I love love love that I get to read your stories and your thoughts because of this show and this fandom.

Fox, brilliant as ever, agreed to answer a few questions for me:

What's your meta writing process like? Do you think in disparate strings about scenes and then write them down as they come to you OR is it usually a conversation or a thought that eats at you until you sit down and untangle it?

generally i'll be thinking about something, usually because i saw another post (or had a conversation about the show on discord; special shoutout to the crew on @figmentof and @scarrletmoon's servers, and especially to @glamaphonic, anything i've ever said you thought was really insightful probably came out of a dm conversation with glam) and some part of a post about it will start writing itself in my head, and unfortunately once that process starts the only way to stop it is to write it down.

even more unfortunately i never know whether it's all going to flow out easily into a coherent essay right away, or if it'll be one of those things where i write two really good paragraphs that ought to go in the middle section of a post that takes a while to figure out how to structure; i just have to start and see where it goes. some meta i've written that got lots of notes was written all at once the moment the thought struck me and posted as soon as it was done, but there's also a few that have been sitting in drafts for months as i keep rewriting the same section without being sure where it goes next.

Favourite themes or characterisations you like to explore while meta writing? (things like Ed's fisherman era and what led to it, etc)

i guess if there's a big theme i keep coming back to it's ed's character arc over the course of the show, his relationship with violence and how it affects his perception of himself and how he has to grow through that to be ready to commit to his relationship with stede. one of the very first things i ever said about the show on tumblr, way back in summer 2022, was that ed's absolute deepest fear was that he is fundamentally unlovable, so it was really a delight to see s2 dive so hard into addressing the exact issues i'd been looking at so explicitly. and of course there's also a lot of fandom racism that plays into some takes that go around about ed, and i think it's really important to call that out and push back against those takes.

i feel like it would be kind of silly to not call out izzy here too. izzy plays an absolutely crucial role in highlighting those exact issues in ed's arc, and i honestly just think the way their whole relationship develops in canon is deliciously meaty and a lot of fandom takes seem determined to flatten it out into something much more boring. so it's important to me to try to highlight the ways you don't have to pretend izzy was a secret good guy all along to appreciate the role he plays in the story.

finally i guess this has only developed over the last several months but i guess one of my trademarks now is speculation about what got deleted from s2. i've always been good at the game of watching a movie and guessing at scenes that were cut or changed, and my spider-sense for that was going off like crazy as i watched s2, and i didn't want to get too speculative at first, but as information has actually come out from samba and vico and other sources, a lot of it's lined up with what i thought. and i'm really interested in how the ofmd writers' room approached storybreaking, so it's worth it to me to try to understand this.

Whose head is it easier to get into - Ed or Stede? Why?

i guess i already answered this! i love them both a lot, and i'd been writing meta for a good while before i consciously realized i'd written a LOT more about ed than about stede, and the ed posts tend to be individually longer than the stede ones too. i think some of this is because ed's arc reads super clearly to me while stede, despite being the main character, gets an arc that's a lot more subtle and internal in some ways (and also i do think suffered significantly from the cuts to the second half of s2). and some of it's because people can be Wrong On The Internet about ed in ways i feel the need to push back against more than about stede. but some of it's just, you know, vibe.

it's always interesting to me that nearly all prolific fic authors in this fandom have a clear very strong preference for which POV they prefer - i don't think all fandoms are like that - but i guess my own alignment is obvious.

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

the obvious answer here is the one actual fic i have written for this fandom, "Nothing Could Touch It" which came out of thinking about how there's some post-s2 fic about ed reckoning with this relationship with izzy that i really like but none of it quite got at how i feel like canon's framing it. (don't worry it's not all about izzy! stede's there and there's a bunch of cuddling!)

as far as meta goes though i would call out this as the one i'm probably proudest of, this is the one where i most completely tried to lay out how i saw the show framing ed's relationship with violence during the s1 hiatus, and i think after s2 it holds up pretty well. but also since i was just talking about how i don't say enough about stede, this is the post where i tried to lay out the stuff i really admire in stede as a character.

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

i've got a bunch of verbal tics i overuse but the one i'm self-conscious about in meta lately is "reading against the text," which sounds so pretentious and lit-crit i really wish there were another good phrase for it. but i think it's really useful as a way to clarify that sometimes i'm saying a particular take is clearly not how the narrative of ofmd is framing something but that doesn't mean you need to stop interpreting it that way. reading against the text is really fun and i recommend it sometimes! but you'll have more fun if you're aware that's what you're doing!

If you were writing his arc, keeping in mind that he stays largely antagonistic in line with the show, how would you have resolved the Izzy problem: would you have made the same decisions the writers made and written a redemption by death OR do you think that the spirit of the show specifically demands Izzy get a good guy (or not as bad a guy) ending where we see his muppetification

one of the predictions i was most confident of before s2 was that if izzy were redeemed, he wouldn't be able to remain in the cast as a good-guy crew muppet afterward. (for this reason i thought the likeliest possibility was a slower redemption arc that wouldn't fully complete till the end of s3.) several times i tried to game out what role a fully redeemed izzy could possibly continue to play within this story, or what personality traits that he showed in s1 he could even hang onto after a full redemption, and i couldn't come up with anything that felt plausible. not "loyalty to your captain," because his devotion to blackbeard was clearly toxic at the root and would need to be purged entirely before it could be replaced by anything healthier; not yelling at people to stop having so much fun and work harder, because that could work in a different story but would run directly counter to the core themes of ofmd - so what's left? i went looking at popular izzy redemption fic that tried to address that question, and some of it came up with answers that worked in the context of a fic focused mostly on izzy, but it was never anything that could possibly work in a tv show that already had established themes and would continue to focus primarily on other characters. and izzy wouldn't be able to just fade into the background with the other muppets after all the focus on him a believable redemption arc would require. so i knew once he was redeemed he'd be done as a character one way or another.

and s2 i think bore that out, honestly in a much more obvious way than i expected - over the course of izzy's s2 arc he's basically divested of all his s1 personality traits until all that's really left by the end is saying twat all the time, and Guy Who Says Twat is not a role the story's going to particularly need going forward. to keep him around after that you'd need to give him enough new traits that he'd be for all practical purposes a new character anyway.

i do sometimes wonder about a world where izzy's s2 arc saw him be offered a clear chance at redemption and choose to reject it and get worse instead. i kind of missed antagonist izzy by the end, and i wonder if a lot of people who'd originally wanted a redemption for him wouldn't have been happier with that even if they didn't realize it - a descent into full villainy would have kept izzy and his relationships with both ed and stede more central to the plot right up till the end, and in particular the sexual aspect of his feelings for ed could have stayed very directly relevant, where the redemption arc necessitated resolving that very firmly to clear it out of the way as early as possible in s2. i never agreed that ofmd's themes necessarily meant redemption for izzy was inevitable - ted lasso was much more overtly a show about redemption than ofmd right from the start, and even ted lasso let at least one of its antagonists make it all the way to the end as an unrepentant scumbag. if there's anything that meant izzy really had to be redeemed imo it wasn't the overall spirit of the show so much as izzy's role in ed's arc - before anything else izzy's narrative role was always to be a walking symbol of the part of ed that fears vulnerability and holds him back from committing himself to love, and for ed and stede to be happily together by the end of s2, ed had to get to a place where he could see that part of himself as something he no longer needs in his life but also doesn't hate anymore. nothing could have symbolized that like having ed embrace izzy as he dies granting ed permission to just be himself.

Why OFMD 🥹

you know, i could say a lot here about how i think ofmd is genuinely incredibly well-written in some ways that are really unusual on american tv. season 1 in particular is just incredibly tight and elegantly plotted, and s2 is messier but that just makes it all the more interesting to look at the constraints they were under that led to that. my day job's in narrative and i really do professionally admire ofmd a lot, which is one of the reasons i tend to think about creator intent more than some people do when i'm writing meta - death of the author is a super valid perspective but personally i'm really interested in trying to figure out why the writers made the choices they made and what i can learn from that for when i'm in their position.

so all of that's true. but also we all know it's kind of beside the point here, this is a hyperfixation, it's not rational. i can tell you i watched the first nine episodes of our flag means death and liked it a lot but in what i would describe as a basically normal kind of way, and then i watched the tenth and at some point during that episode a rat inside my brain hit the dopamine spigot with a wrench and now it won't turn off so here we are.

aaaand if you've made it to this point, please join us in evil ganging up on fox with love by sending a lovely letter to them over on @ofmdlovelyletters who was also kind enough to make this header <3

[magnecalliope]

Branzy is not some innocent waif by any means, but I feel like everyone misunderstands the ways in which he matches Clown’s freak. Particularly, they want to subvert what they view as the architypical dynamic between Branzy and Clown without any real regard to how Branzy's personality actually meshes with Clown's. They recognize that Clown’s intimidation of Branzy is surface level, but don’t seem to grasp what’s going on below that to give Branzy his own edge over Clown.

Branzy is a homicidal maniac in his own right, and certainly has aspirations of being the kind of murder machine that Clown is, but he just does not have the fighting skill to back it up, nor was he a particularly skilled engineer when he first joined Lifesteal. At his core, Branzy is a coward. He gravitates towards whichever player or team he thinks is going to protect him, and he'll stroke their ego to get in their good graces. He gets by on his charisma and charm.

Clown, despite having a clear advantage over Branzy, still frequently comes across as uncomfortable with Branzy's attention, while also craving it and seeking it out. He's also a deeply reserved individual. Even when he's emoting he's still very quiet and even tempered. He plays his cards close to his chest. He's a loner. He has his reputation in part because he's unreadable and intimidating. He was coming off of a season where he hadn't died a single time. He’s an unstoppable force without an immovable object.

So here's the scenario: You're a stoic assassin. Usually you like to work alone. Other people slow you down. But you want revenge and you want to execute it in a particular manner that just happens to be outside of your wheelhouse. You have to team up with someone, and it just so happens you know someone with passable talent and a common enemy. You can tell he's afraid of you, and he should be, because he can't even beat Spepticle in a fight, how would he ever take on you?

But he's also... strangely affectionate. You box him in and he lets you, even as he's shaking with fright. You flirt and he flirts back. You're used to letting your reputation speak for itself, but here he is singing your praises to anyone who will listen. He puts all the credit for the collaboration on you, and downplays his own contribution. He sticks around even after you've exacted your revenge, and he still has nothing but good things to say about you, no matter how much you push and prod and scare and tease.

The fundamental difference between Branzy and Clown is vulnerability. Branzy has had no choice but to embrace his, while Clown has done everything in his power to excise it from himself entirely. Branzy allows himself to have big emotions and Clown barely speaks above a whisper at any given moment. When it comes to a fight, of course there isn’t much that can scare Minecraft’s Deadliest Assassin. But Clown has no idea how to navigate emotions, while emotions are Branzy’s greatest asset. People relate to Branzy, they trust him, and he uses it to manipulate them right into their traps. He can trick others’ emotionally as easily as Clown can cut them down with his sword. His relationship with Clown was made on the foundation of betrayal; he sacrificed his alliance with Vitalasy for Clown's protection. It was more important to him to stay on Clown's good side than remain loyal to his previous team, and this is because he felt, with 100% certainty, that Clown offered him more than Vitalasy did. And Vitalasy never saw it coming. 

That’s what makes Branzy so terrifying to Clown. Because he trusts Branzy. He lets his guard down around Branzy. He lets himself be vulnerable with Branzy. What if Branzy’s just manipulating him too? Or worse. 

What if he’s not?

[genericpuff]

I really loved todays episode, with just a few panels, you gave Persephone this eerie feeling, like shes more than the body she houses and Hades could sense it, he was intimidated by her and I think thats the coolest thing I have seen today

Thanks so much!!! I love writing these kinds of character dynamics so I'm really excited to have the opportunity to do it through Kore and Persephone. I'm hoping y'all enjoy her future appearances too, it's def not the last we'll see of her ;3

[astra-galaxie]

I DID IT!! Here’s the whole thing copy pasted from Google docs!!

The Player’s general skills and implied personality + some stuff abt them! (as far as i can gather, at least, tell me if i missed smth!)

*Note that these skills do not include case specific stuff (like the time they discovered a new species in Pacific Bay)

-Exceptionally skilled at handling the forensic kit,in S1, Jones had challenged the player to uncrack a code while he recites the alphabet from A, and the player cracked the code just before he hit the letter F. It takes about a few seconds, so that says a lot.

-The player has freaky intuition skills in general. I mean, in quite literally every case, they figure out what evidence is needed, what could count as evidence, and searches through things most would gloss over. Their partners acknowledge this a lot, more in the first cases since they just met.

-Can keep a level head even in high stress or even dangerous situations even when their partners cant, whether its during or after the cases. Jones addressed this after court quite a few times in the first season. Also, the player’s able to calm down whoever thier with or

*Add on, in S4, while facing Cappechi & Finley for the first time, he managed to intimidate Isaac on both occasions, however, the player remained composed enough to be able to file evidence against them.

-Works out. In Good Girls dont die, a case in S1, while Grace tries to convince Martha to calm down, she states that the player has already kicked down the door. Like, kick. The player probably doesnt even have any special gear on them, so either the door is weak or, the more likely theory is that the player got dem legs frfr

-Has quite the memory. Easiest case to get this info from is during S4, in the case Eyes Wide Shut, player and Isaac identify a rice makeup composition on the item, Player can easily recall that 17 cases back, which give or take a few, is about a monthish? That Madam Xiang was wearing it. Mind you, at this stage in case Eyes Wide Shut, the duo had only spoken to Madam Xiang once, and she never mentioned the makeup.

-The Bureau themselves asked for the player to join them, that in itself is already a accomplishment, since the Bureau is like, the elite of the elite in the police world.

-Their temper seems to be much milder, or at least, more controlled. Its more evident with Frank and David (S1) since the chiefs often say the player is much calmer than them, hell, David got in trouble for being too brash and got so many complaints he had to file paperwork.

-They do indeed make mistakes, one of my friends irl kept saying the player was a Mary Sue esque kind, but in S3, they were also led on by the Warren guy after he framed the Guru, and they were kidnapped by Karen in S2. If they were so called ‘Mary Sues’, they’d probably figure out a way to not get captured and be the person whos left unscathed and babied by the team.

-Maybe a similar point, but they have sharp eyes and possibly very good eyesight. In a case with Jonah as a partner in S3 during one of the Additional Investigations, the player spots a tent from afar up a mountain. Not to mention its always them who finds everything lol

-The player is good at calming down their partners or whoever is working with them tbh. Like every time one of their case partners are loosing hope, breaking down, feeling impatient or angry, the player snaps them back to their senses.

-They arent quite up to date with some stuff, or simply put, most likely arent that geeky like Jones is, or probably that interested in acting and stuff, in S4 when Isaac asks them how they have no idea who Dolly Darnell (famous actress) and a famous chess master is. Personally would love to think they’d love to listen to their friends and team talk about certain personal interests of thiers.

-Most definitely has a good physique. In S2, Roxie comments that they fit perfectly into a diving suit, which is typically quite tight, so we can assume their physical health is in good or in its prime, in S7, Ben mentions the player has great reflexes for being able to dodge a chupabara attack.

-Can handle a gun better than the average policeman could, probably. In S4, they got into a gunfight with their team against Capecchi and his men, and the team won, so probably suggests that either the rest did most of the work, or the player is good enough to aim and shoot down a whole bunch of tough ahh men.

-Has better driving skills than Jones

-The chiefs often say the player is a rolemodel of what the rest of the team members should be, often, its Frank and Jones being reprimanded and being compared to the Player.

-Implied to be a pretty sarcastic and humorous person, whenever the person their working with for a case or a suspect makes a unfunny or less than tasteful joke, or just does smth weird in general, they always tell the player to ‘not look at them like that’

*Jones seems to be the one saying this the most, including Frank because he teases the player a lot as well.

-Patient. The cheifs say the player is patient, and im sure having Frank work with them would make their temper flare at leats three times in a single hour if the player wasnt a patient person.

-Knows how to handle and drag themselves + their team out of wallowing after a crisis. In S3, Ripley praises the player for being able to rise up after her ‘death’ so quickly, and solving her ‘death’ as well.

-Thier spice tolerence is off the charts, could bet money that they definitely could eat a few hot peppers and only complain of a bit of bite on their tongue. Even Rita admits their tolerance is higher and she’s tough as hell.

-Reliable adult, probably good or decent with children. They were the adult Matilda came running to (in Grimsborough S1) while her own parents were arguing. Jones said this as well when reprimanding the dad.

-My friend (yes the same one) keeps saying that the player would be homophobic?? What?? At least one of their core team members are gay as hell, cmon bruh

-Is most definately empathic and more adept at handling sensitive cases, whether by sensitive, its a matter of whether the press gets ahold and it could be bad, or its sensitive like family and personal matters get involved. When their partners make a distasteful comment or joke, no matter how mild, the player is implied to have told them off (ahem, Jones, Frank and Roxie)

-Good at undercover work, its shows in S4 during the last district, does the S4 part where they have to break Florence Samuels out with Rose count?

-They solve cases within the day or in a few hours, the latest they’ve ever finished a case was in the evening and then again, the player had only started on it in the afternoon.

-A kind person in general. I mean, for one, if i was a homicide investigator and every time i do an investigation, multiple people want my help?? I’d bail, nuh uh. AND not to mention, its time consuming bc theres always the need for analysis, and with sometimes, personal and professional problems get mixed up halfway.

-They most definitely have the money to live comfortably, they have the money to take James Savage for shopping for a new funeral suit and outfit, and they recieve so much spare cash from suspects during the AI.

-I feel like they probably have a good fashion sense, but on that point, can we talk about their closet size?? They get so many articles of clothing, they would definitely be the kind to overdress on every occasion and still look fabulous.

-I would not be surprised if its end up being revealed that they were a reformed thief or some wild shit like that, how does a rookie officer know how to crack a lock in seconds??

-Do you guys think their banned from being the seeker whenever the office decides to play hide and seek because their so good at finding stuff? Like, the last time they were the seeker they probably caught everyone in less than 30 minutes or some shit

-In addition to that helping people shit, the player’s either just energetic in general or their ass is running on coffee and pure willpower because i CANNOT do what their doing, their partners dont even stay consistent throughout the entire AI, and sometimes, in the official investigation itself

-Player’s a positive influence on the people around them, and this prob my nth time mentioning them, but JONES AND FRANK!! Grace says at the end of S1 that the Player’s influenced them positively a lot, and Karen says that as well abt Player’s influence on Frank.

-More on the energy thing, they work overtime so often im surprised they havent asked for a raise or something (then again, the chiefs probably automatically gave them one anyways, maybe even more)

-Not afraid of them high rankers!! S4 for example, no matter how many times Commisioner Baldwin threatened them, they are not afraid, gives 0 fucks, did not gaf even tho Andrea told them to leave Jazz Town before the hurricane kills them

-Player def got a strong stomach and do not care about getting ther hands dirty, they’ve seen so many dead bodies in the most gruesome settings possible, and they dig through trash every case, they have definitely seen…stuff. Oh yeah, they’ve seen so much raunchy and sexual stuff I don’t think they’d be too fazed anymore.

-Offically, including the S4, S6 and S7 cases, they’ve solved 370 cases in their entire career, including a cold case in S5, maybe indirectly, a few more in S5 due to the Rocket Cow killer being discovered, and a few more side murders due to how many serial killers they’ve arrested, so the victims get justice.

-They get offered or are the ones paying the first round for drinks quite a lot, so I’d assume that either they dont drink at all, or they can hold their alcohol well.

-Has gained fame as both as a detective world wide and citywide, AND in Pacific Bay as a co owner of a movie and had their cases featured in another movie! I’d assume their movies are out by S3 or by S5.

-Magic hands, anything damaged can get so well repaired its like it was never broken, or the partners and the suspects are just trying to make the player not feel bad lol

-They seem to not mind… leftovers, or anything that is edible but looks or taste unappealing… I mean, if we get a burger everytime a prisoner gives up their prison slop to the player, does that imply they ate it no problemo??

Sidenote: it feels like I’m putting the player on a pedestal at some parts… I assure you I’m not trying to 🥲🥲

Sorry, it took so long for me to answer this! I FINALLY found the time to sit down, read and react to it!

And to start this off: HOLY SHIT!😲 (I mean this in the best way possible!)

(Live footage of me giving this post as much love as possible. Yes, I am secretly an alien gremlin!😉)

I'm going to try to go through each section at a time, so prepare for a long post!

-Sometimes, I wonder if anyone else has training when it comes to the forensic kit... I remember Jack claiming to be a pro at the vacuum tool, but we NEVER see him use it! Or any of our partners, for that matter!🙄

-It wouldn't surprise me if the player was psychic! Or at least partly! I don't think I've seen anyone make a psychic player OC yet, but it would be an interesting concept!

-After everything the player has seen, even just in the first season alone, it's no surprise they know how to keep their cool!

(At least Isaac got more confident at dealing with Finley! Though we can't blame him for being scared of Mad Dog!)

-Kicking down a door is no easy task! (Not that I've ever tried it.) So the player must try to keep themself in shape! And clearly, they don't skip leg day!🦾🦿

-I wish I had the player's memory sometimes... My working memory is slowly going downhill! And yeah, remembering something as minor as someone wearing rice makeup from months ago is impressive! Esapiclly considering everything that's happened between the cases!

-I have the theory that if CC had continued, we would have been recruited into the GIA or another secret spy agency like we were for the Bureau! After all, their resume would be as impressive as it is long!

-Some characters could learn from the player and their ability to control their temper... (*cough* Frank *cough*)

-I can see where your friend got the "Mary Sue" idea from. The player is constantly being praised for their work, but they still make mistakes and learn from them, like you said!

-Forget 20/20 vision; the player has the best eyes in the world! They must be the champion in Eye Spy and Hidden Object games!

-If the player ever decided to change careers, they could be a therapist! Or an anger management coach!

-With how busy the player is, it's unsurprising they don't have time to be up-to-date with some things...

As for the S4 thing, I like the idea of the player being from away and not knowing about Concordian celebrities, unlike their partners!

-In conjunction with the strength one, the player must take care of themself by eating well (ignoring all the free hamburgers they get...) and staying active!

-I think it's stated that the team worked together to defeat Capecchi and his men, but the player obviously knows how to handle a gun in order to stand their ground against them!

-Well, Jones did crash at least once that we know of, unlike the player...😉

-With how good the player is implied to be, I bet they would win employee of the month every month! Move over, Sponge Bob! We've got a new champ in town!

-Sometimes, I wish we had dialogue options just to see the jokes and witty remarks the player could make!

-The player must have the patience of a saint to put up with some of the people and things they have to deal with!

-For the amount of shit they find themself in, the player knows a thing or two about how to get out of it and drag others out with them!

-Given that Rita looked like she was on fire while eating the salsa, the player either has a steal tongue or no feeling in it to handle eating all that spice!

-I like to think the player is good with children too. After all, almost every time we meet a child in the game, they seem to love the player!

-I can't see how your friend came to the homophobic conclusion either! The player works with several LGBTQ+ teammates and interacts with even more LGBTQ+ characters outside the teams! Are we sure they played the same CC game?

-The player is one of the game's most empathetic people. Even after so much death and pain, they still are. And they know how to stay professional when working on a sensitive case.

-I'd count it as evidence of them being good at undercover work! They're also constantly undercover in S6 and manage to fool nearly everyone they meet!

-I've always wondered about the timeline for solving a case... I swear they finish every case within a shift! I think the only one I canonly recall taking more than a day was Anatomy of Murder when Jones talks about reading his book before bed during chapters 2&1 (I think...).

-The player has a heart of gold, and it's a miracle they still do by the end of the series!✨

-They must be LOADED! But if people keep giving them free money on top of their job income, it's no surprise they probably don't have to worry about money!

-With all the clothes and accessories they get throughout the series, they could have a whole floor in their house dedicated to their closet! Hopefully, they donate anything they no longer want.

-A common theme among OC players is that they always have a secret past! I'm sure someone must have made one with a past as a thief or something to help explain how they're so good at picking locks!

-Agreed. They are only allowed to participate in hide-and-go-seek by being the timekeeper.

-The player must live off of coffee, energy drinks, or SOMETHING to be so energetic! I know I wouldn't be so excited to do extra work by helping people after solving a murder! I hope they get extended vacations to make it even!

-Player, spreading positivity wherever they go!✨

-They better get paid WELL for everything they do for their job, teammates, cities and citizens!

-They've got nerves of steel and the bravery of a god to stand up against so much higher authority! They've even talked back to royalty before, too!

-For how often they search through the trash, they either have no sense of smell or the strongest stomach in the world!

-The player's case record is unbeatable! And they solved all those cases in under a decade, according to the undefined timeline!

-I think the drink thing stopped after S2 (or at least I don't remember it happening as much after that season), but they are still often invited for drinks one way or another!

-I'll never know how they weren't recognized in S7, given how famous they are! For changing to such a secret job when they joined the supernatural hunters, it's a surprise they weren't recognized! Especially considering we run into past characters!🤔

-The player is probably the first person people go to after breaking something! We'll never know how they manage to fix things so perfectly! Unless they really ARE magic!🤔

-The player never does say no to free food... Even when they really should! How they never got food poisoning (Jones flashback intensify) will remain a mystery!

-Don't worry; other characters put the player on a pedestal for us!😉

Phew! That was a workout! Hopefully, we didn't lose you guys!😅

I can tell you put a lot of work into this, so let me be the first to say good job!🥳✨

NOW TAKE A BREAK! You deserve it after creating this doc!

You captured a lot of the player's traits and successes! And I look forward to seeing what others think about your analysis! And if there's anything they think should be added! After all, it is always helpful to have some extra input!😊

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere romantic hcs for Legoshi and Juno both fighting over a wolf darling please ^^

Sure! I haven't rewatched Beastars so I hope they're both accurate. I ran out of ideas for this near the end so I'm sorry it wasn't very intense or anticlimactic....

Yandere! Legoshi vs Juno with Wolf! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, SFW Scent kink, Manipulation, Coercion, Stalking, Blood, Violence, Implied kidnapping, Forced relationship(s).

This is unnerving because, while you are a carnivore and the same species as them, the two can still take advantage of you.

For example, as a fellow wolf you'd think you can trust the two....

Legoshi may be socially awkward, but he's reliable.

Plus Juno is so sociable and nice!

Unfortunately, despite that, it doesn't seem like you can trust them in this....

Juno herself has been described as ambitious, manipulative, and jealous/possessive in canon.

This is shown in how she competes to be Beastar and her behavior towards Legoshi and Haru.

Legoshi is, surprisingly, more tame than Juno.

He's humble and polite, struggles socially, and tries to be gentle/patient.

Although, since he is still a wolf, he is capable of being imposing and assertive.

He doesn't like scaring people... yet his stature as a male wolf is naturally intimidating.

Out of the two, I feel Juno would be the one more forceful.

Legoshi spends a lot of his time trying to rationalize his feelings and comprehend them.

While Juno immediately thinks it's love at first sight and you must date.

There's a lot of manipulation in this rivalry.

The good thing is, you're not an herbivore.

Which should, in theory, put you on near equal footing with them as a wolf.

You see the two wolves during classes, in the hallways, during Biology Days...

You may even have drama club with them.

As a wolf you interact a lot and don't activate any sort of hunting instinct in them.

What you do ignite within them?

A need for companionship.

Juno used to feel such a way for Legoshi until she met you.

She loves your fur, your scent, your voice...

She loves it all!

It's funny, because the moment she finds a new crush?

Her old crush also shows signs of liking them.

Frustrating.

Wolves tend to be possessive of chosen mates.

So while Juno shows this a lot more, Legoshi's capable of it too.

You're close with them as friends and fellow wolves.

You even remember their scent and are capable of sensing them through that.

Which is why it unnerves you when you start sensing them more often than you should.

Juno is much more clingy, sociable, and touchy with you.

She's assertive and it seems like she's showing every animal around her that you two belong together.

It's like she's showing claim over you.

You notice and may try to distance yourself, but the other wolf follows you closely.

Why are you trying to avoid her?

Do you not like it when she holds you? Nuzzles you?

Don't you see her tail wagging when around you?

Legoshi is less into PDA....

He's shy around you and allows you your space and independence.

He's protective more than possessive, yet those desires still linger within his actions.

He blushes at close contact, stutters when speaking to you, and overall just likes to admire you from a distance.

He's the opposite of Juno... yet he feels jealous when he sees how Juno acts around you.

Legoshi can tell you aren't a big fan of Juno's clingy behavior.

Which he uses as an excuse to pull you away and distract you a bit.

Much to Juno's frustration.

Although, while Legoshi is protective and willing to help you away from Juno...

He can end up being suffocating too.

Legoshi is less manipulative and possessive than Juno at first.

Although, with how strong the other wolf is coming on, he may feel like he has to show claim over you.

It's no doubt in his instincts if he really does view you in a romantic way.

You probably don't even see either wolf in that kind of way.

Which is why it can be overwhelming when two wolves are suddenly not only trying to win you over... but compete.

They both act caring and attentive to you when it's just you and them alone.

Yet the moment the two are in a room with one another?

There's tension and glares.

Maybe a frustrated growl here or there.

Juno is the one who acts the most moody out of the two.

She's often arguing with Legoshi, blaming him for trying to sabotage her or how she just wants him to leave you and her alone.

Her heart is still recovering from their "break-up" (They were never together).

Now he's trying to take yours from her!?

Meanwhile Legoshi just wants to make sure you're okay and Juno isn't being too... much.

Legoshi's crush is gradual, so he starts just genuinely looking out for a fellow "pack member".

Although... Over time he wonders if he should pay attention to how his tail wags and how he blushes around you....

Would the two be violent with one another...?

No... I can't really see it.

Legoshi would want to physically hurt Juno.

Juno may threaten him, standing her ground and barking about how you're hers.

But she won't actually do anything... hopefully.

Legoshi is no doubt stronger than her as a male wolf, so she's cautious.

Even other wolves can sense the tension between these two.

Biology Day feels more stressful than it should be due to Juno and Legoshi avoiding one another.

Juno would try to spend more time with you by inviting you to gatherings or trips.

You don't seriously plan on spending all of your time in the dorms, right?

You'd rather do that than deal with their tension.

She'd drag you out to hang out with her, always having an arm around you as she walks.

Her tail would be wagging fast, while yours sways with insecurity.

Legoshi would be less forceful, merely offering for you to hang out with him... doing anything really.

Since he isn't as intense, you may actually go to him more often.

Right up until he admits he has feelings for you, another wolf, and asks if you'll be his?

He may be more considerate... but he's going to want this rivalry between him and Juno to end at some point.

One of them will have to claim you as theirs soon....

You don't seem at ease around Juno... but you're at ease around him, right?

Right?

It's worse when you're walking around the halls, only to catch sight or smell of them.

You know at least one wolf is watching you at all times.

As though they're waiting for the perfect move.

Kidnapping seems OOC for both of them... but hey...

Maybe one of them will trap you in their dorm so you have to make a decision?

This rivalry could go on for months.

It really pushes you and the two wolves to the brink.

You're aware the two stalk you.

You're aware they're pushy to date you because you're such a good looking and kind wolf...

Yet you wish they'd stop.

Even when you tell them you want nothing to do with either of them...

They only seem to press more.

Juno gets more possessive, Legoshi gets more protective...

You can't trust either of them anymore.

Plus, you may even grow more concerned when you start seeing blood on their fur.

With months of tension, the two may even fight more.

Wolves are territorial and violent when it comes to mates....

You can only hope the issue resolves soon.

Those wounds are beginning to concern you.

They can't hide the smell of blood from you.

Juno may be the one most likely to lock you in her dorm until you choose her.

Although, Legoshi may lure you to his dorm in an attempt to soothe you and protect you.

Both wolves are intense and only seem to have one goal in mind...

How long will it be before one of them snaps?

You may be a wolf, a carnivore just like them...

But between them you just feel like prey.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi, i hope you are having a good day! I wanted to ask for writing tips, though sorry if I'm not too specific. You see, i notice you tend to show so much personality of characters, especially in the way they speak. Do you have any advice on how to write dialogues and how you give each person a distinct voice? Maybe also how you manage to show certain characteristics of a person (like flirty, playful, confident, shy, etc) through the way they talk? Thank you very much in advance, hope I'm not bothering you, and feel free to answer any time, of course if you want and have the time🩵

Ehh, once I find my writing tips I will reblog this - I made a kind-of-not-really-masterlist when it comes to my writing tips - (as always, please keep in mind: I study biology which means I am currently not taking any language courses, I haven't been in an English class for ages, so, yeah, I may not be the best person to give advice).

Usually, my writing process is pretty easy to put into words - that's the only reason why I was able to give some sort of writing tips in the past. When it comes to dialogue, though, I am not so sure how to explain it.

I usually follow certain "rules" regarding structure or the use of stylistic devices etc. I've mentioned that in my prior posts (which I will reblog once I find them 😭), but for dialogue, there isn't really a guideline (not to my knowledge at least).

Which is why I mostly picture a movie scene with the setting and the characters I want to write and the dialogue just uhh happens. (I am so sorry that is such a lousy explanation.)

But maybe it's more useful to use an example (this is from a draft):

"You're quitting?" the villain asked and the hero nearly jumped out of their own skin. They had had quite the day and the last person they had expected to see in their own living room was the villain.

"Jeez- yes-" They felt their pulse in their throat and when they set down their plate, their fingers shook. Right. They hadn't told the villain.

It was stupid that they felt - to some degree at least - obligated to tell their nemesis that they weren't interested in wearing the cape anymore. In all honesty, that feeling of obligation only existed because the hero wanted some comfort.

"You're quitting?" the villain asked again and the hero only frowned softly.

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

"No, I am done. I am done with this." In return, the villain let out a huff and crossed their arms in front of their chest.

"You can't just quit," the villain said, as if they had any say in this. It was refreshing, though. Most people had encouraged them. Hell, their parents had begged for years, colleagues called them incredibly lucky and friends only sighed in gratitude.

But the villain didn't seem to accept this.

Here is all the dialogue:

"You're quitting?"

"Jeez- yes-"

"You're quitting?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

"No, I am done. I am done with this."

"You can't just quit."

So, the very first thing I try to do is to decide on the hero's and villain's personality (sometimes that changes in the middle of writing, so I go back and rearrange the dialogue etc.). First of all, it's important to decide how much the characters are talking.

Because, not only the quality but also the quantity of dialogue can tell you much about a character's personality. About their characteristics, their maturity, their age even. (That can also be subverted for comedic effect, though. A child being mature and talking like an adult can be quite funny.)

Different quantities can also create a certain power dynamic, for example between a superior and a subordinate. But that doesn't have to be.

Are they talking a lot? Are they rather quiet? Do they use long and complex sentences? Or are their answers very short and clear?

A very quiet character may be shy but they can also be intimidating - actions speak louder than words, after all. An intimidating character might not need to give a long speech to explain themselves. Their words aren't supposed to be questioned and conversation might be something they deem unnecessary.

How characters talk pretty much depends on your creativity.

A flirty character might try to interpret a lot into simple actions to frame them suggestive ("I bet you showed up just to see me."), they might make a bunch of assumptions ("You missed me, didn't you?"), they might be a very bold character ("Let's give that chatty mouth of yours another task.").

Shy characters can tend to talk very little or try to avoid conversations - that doesn't have to be the case, though. Some shy characters can be very chatty and social, but when confronted with a certain subject (e.g. their own accomplishments/interests or romance), they might lose their confidence and with that, all their words.

So, there isn't really a rule like a confident character is xyz. A confident character can be xyz but they can also be abc. It totally depends on the characters you're writing. Try to observe people you know. How do they act? How do they speak? Would you say they are confident? Shy? Flirty? Mean? Kind?

Above, you can see that the villain doesn't ask once but twice if the hero is quitting and even when the hero confirms this twice, the villain still simply says "Bullshit."

This already tells us the villain doesn't believe or doesn't want to believe that the hero is quitting. That goes even further when the hero says they are done and the villain tells them "You can't just quit."

The villain is clearly agitated about the hero quitting. So, we have a somewhat (co-)dependency here or at least some attachment from the villain towards the hero (because quitting = not fighting the villain = leaving the villain). That already tells us quite a bit about the character dynamic. When we look at the characters independently, it's quite clear the villain is very persistent about this (asking twice + telling the hero they can't quit) and the hero is at first shocked the villain is there (jeez-) but still willing to answer their question. The hero doesn't explain why they quit, they simply say "yeah" or "I am done with this." So, they either don't feel the need to talk to the villain about it (which they could have told them, like "it's none of your business") or they don't want to talk about it because they are upset.

(It's the latter.)

As you can see above, dialogue works better when you attach some action/description to the scene you are writing.

For example, when the hero realizes they haven't told the villain: They felt their pulse in their throat and when they set down their plate, their fingers shook. Right. They hadn't told the villain.

So, telling the villain is difficult for the hero. Why is up for your interpretation 🤭

"You're quitting?" the villain asked again and the hero only frowned softly. In this line, the hero frowning softly can be interpreted as confusion. Maybe because the villain is being very persistent and the hero is somewhat surprised by this...idk idk...

"No, I am done. I am done with this." In return, the villain let out a huff and crossed their arms in front of their chest. Apparently, the villain finds this action ridiculous which is why they say "You can't just quit."

Ultimately, I tried to put this into words. Like I mentioned before, I am not thinking "oh, yeah, the hero is upset so I will write this action and this as dialogue" but instead I direct the scene in my head and write it down.

Nonetheless, I really do hope this could help you in some way. Please tell me if there's something incoherent or illogical. Or ask if you have another question.

Thank you for asking!

[lightlycareless]

Is naoya the type to have his wife and kids as

Wife>kids, wife<kids, or wife=kids

Hello!!

First of all HOW DARE YOU ask me this, we in the mood for angst, aren't we? hahahaha jk, I'm just teasing you.

Ok so... naturally, wife=kids is kind of how it goes on a very superficial level.

HOWEVER...

This is a question I feel always turns controversial, you know? Maybe romanticized too… dunno how to explain it… BUT returning to Naoya and Y/N, the answer was not so hard to figure out when I first read your ask:

warnings: none. slight mentions of a difficult pregnancy where a doctor must save one. this may label Naoya as a bad parent?

His wife, a.k.a you, comes first. No questions about it.

Yes, he loves his children very, very much and would do all in his power to make them happy, keep them safe…

But his ultimate commitment is to you. Always.

And in that type of situation, Naoya will always choose to save you.

Naturally this is a topic neither would enjoy openly discussing, opting to avoid it as much as possible; but once it’s brought up, both can’t help but constantly overthink about it, going over and over again at it, slowly believing to be a bad mother for not refuting his decision, Naoya a bad father for even considering it!

It would take a while to come to terms with this statement; of course, the two will do everything to never approach a moment where a sacrifice like this would be needed, and in all honesty, I feel like a decision of this type is more of a day-to-day basis kind of thing…

But now we know what Naoya thinks of his family on a deeper level. He loves you and his children… but his first love was you, and will continue to be so ‘till the rest of his life.

You'll also do your best to never put Naoya in a situation where he'd have to choose between the two, you know. The last thing you want is to become a burden for him... but yeah, there you have it 😭 I hope I didn't make y'all hate him hahaha

Now, thank you so much for sending in this ask! As intimidated I am for these difficult questions, I do enjoy answering them for they bring another side of Naoya's and Y/N's relationship I often tend to ignore 🥹

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

[im-so-normal-iswear]

omg!! thank you for your oneshot/headcanons. i love it. don't worry, it was absolutely great!! can you please write yandere headcanons of shadow or sonic with a gambler!reader? I'm sorry for requesting so soon, i just really liked your writing-

No problem! Sorry I took some time to finish lol. I'll do some of both.

Yandere!sonic x gambler!reader

Sonic gets it

Hes an andrennaline junkie himself, whos he to judge?

Tbh i could see him being a gambler himself, he's made a fair amount of very serious gambles, whos to say he wouldn't just gamble in general.

He'd def try to impress you with stuff while at a casino, like how fast he can shuffle cards, count chips etc.

While he does trust you to make smart desicions (somewhat) l, he does still watch you like a hawk. Whether your gambling too high, odds aren't exactly in your favor, someone is being a creep to you etc. He will def just drag you out.

You have gotten banned from some casninos from him dragging you out.

At times he might get just a bit worried about you gambling alot.

"Maybe tone down on that stuff just a bit?"

If it comes to a point where youre seriously broke, he might "help you out" a little. No its not cheating, they shouldn't have left their cards out and about, its really their fault for being careless

Anyways on the more yandere side, while he likes watching you play, he hates seeing you do it with random other people.

Hed probably force you to gamble with him a lot, it makes him feel better, especially if he wins, he wins a lot, he peeks at your cards

If you do lose a lot of money, you'll get it back by the next day, sonic handing it to you.

Don't question it.

Yandere!Shadow x gambler!reader

Shadow is VERY protective of you, so he disapproves of your gambling habit. He sees it as reckless and dangerous, something that could tuin your life or attract bad people.

Whenever you take risks or place high bets, Shadow is right there, watching closely, ready to step in if things get out of hand.

While your playing poker, blackjack etc. etc. He will be standing right behind you, glaring menacingly at all other players but then being perfectly fine when you turn your head.

To keep you "safe", Shadow might cheat, help you out, either by intimidating other players or using his skills to ensure you win just enough to stay satisfied without losing too much.

He doesn’t care about money, he just wants you safe, ensuring no harm comes to you from losing or angering the wrong people.

Shadow secretly tracks every move you make, especially when you're at the casino or playing cards.

If anyone tries hitting on you or is just being snarky for no reason, he’s quick to getbthwm off your hands.

Hes always ensuring no one gets too close or tries to take advantage of your gambling tendencies

Shadow has no problem with intimidation. If you lose a game and someone demands payment, Shadow will loom behind you, giving a dark, threatening look that makes the other party back off.

If it comes to a point where you keep gambling and losing more and more money, he won't let you leave the house

Really, if you can't pay attention in gambling, how is he supposed to know you can pay attention to your surroundings, what if you got hurt because you were not paying attention?

No, he can't risk it, he won't risk it.

These were kind of short, so sorry 🥲

[mellidee]

….okay the more I think about it, the more the rationalization of wanting a clean slate for Veilguard and decreasing the choices of the worldstate so drastically makes less sense.

Nerd ranting under the cut.

I’m one of the many who started with Inquisition, and yes, I was a little confused. Yes, I did feel like my enjoyment of Inquisition felt a bit lessened because there’s a lot of cameos and references I was completely blind too. But you know what I did?

I went back and played the rest. And all the games felt so much better knowing that this was my world, this was MY Thedas. I grew attached to characters. I finished Inquisition with my custom worldstate and I loved it. And there’s so many people who finished with the default worldstate and loved it. I feel like BioWare is kind of regretting ever doing the concept of worldstates because I get it, it’s so hard to keep track of and when you want to attract new players, having a grand narrative connecting games is really intimidating. But you can gain new fans that way! People might go back and play the rest to see how bad they can screw up their next run of Inquisition and fall in love with the setting even more. Some may just forever love the default state and never play the rest! It doesn’t have to be so one or the other!

They keep stressing that this is Rook’s story and it’s their time to shine; Origins’ is the Warden’s story. DA2 is Hawke’s story. Inquisition is the Inquisitor’s story. But all four of these stories make up the tapestry that is the story of Thedas. I love the Keep, and I adore the Mass Effect Archives just because I can build the tapestry and see everything laid out. To remove elements of past stories, to not hear characters reference their own histories is removing the cohesion of the story of the world itself, and breaking player immersion. Yes, the characters still exist offscreen and we have our headcanons, we can “make up” what happened next: but even as someone who lives for headcanons, I still like seeing tangible things. I want more moments like my Warden threatening my Inquisitor to keep Alistair safe. I want Morrigan to mention her son. I really wanted to see how Vivienne as Divine would have any ramifications ten years down the road. They didn’t need to be huge cameos, but it made the world feel so lived in, so personalized. But nope, I just have to make it up I suppose.

I’m sure the game will be great, I’ll still play it. But on a scale from 1 - 100 on the hype scale, I plummeted from a 90 to a 45. I was a bit bummed with the combat because I like the overhead tactical pause and I love taking control of companions, but I could live without it. This was a major hit. I’m scared for Mass Effect, because I love it more than Dragon Age. I don’t want my favorite sci fi setting to get watered down.

[halfghostwriter]

Y’know something weird I’ve noticed? I’m way more confident writing DP x DC stuff than I am writing just DC stuff. I think it’s because the DP x DC fandom doesn’t really expect writers to have as much knowledge of both, so I don’t feel the same “can’t make any mistakes” feeling I get when I try to write DC fics. There’s just so much complex lore in the DC universe, from the comics to the shows, and a lot of it is different depending on what time period the stuff you’re reading/watching is from. I’ve never finished or even posted any DC stuff I’ve done cause I’m always worried that the lore I’ve learned from the shows and the lore I’ve learned from the comics will contradict each other or something, and I’ll get called out on it. There isn’t that same pressure when I’m writing for a subsection of the fandom that’s totally fine with inconsistencies and character rewrites

It’s really nice that everyone here is so nice

[ixkhor-and-ambroxia]

Hey #GreekMythology tumblr, I want ya’lls help on something :).

So, I’ve been thinking about starting this massive project. Like, would take years and years work of writing and research and sheerly finding the time and motivation for. And as I was thinking about the specifics, I thought: why not bring others into it as well? Because as much as I am interested in a lot of Greek Mythology, there are things that are simply not my interests and might cause writers block and my goal for the project would to be as fun as possible. So, here we are.

What is the project exactly? Well, hopefully, it’ll be a long Ao3 series/fic focusing on the individual perspectives of various figures/events in Greek Mythology arranged in (semi/good enough) chronological order. I personally intend to write for Poseidon in his/my version of the Titanomachy and (maybe) some events that follow, if you want a little bit of an idea on what I’m talking about.

The limits on this are almost completely free, all that I ask are that each of your submissions are one POV only (and by that I mean your main subject’s POV). Why do I say this? I say this because that is what I want this project to look like. It doesn’t matter if it’s First, Second, or Third POV along with all the other variants of those three, my main focus is on the individual experiences of these individuals. Kind of like character studies, if you know what I mean. I’m intending for it to be mostly formal but I will absolutely accept crack admissions that I will probably put into its own series to Separate the Vibes for whoever comes by :).

Ultimately, this is a completely open-ended project that has absolutely no deadline. I’m about to go to bed so I can’t go into too much detail, but if you want to DM me or send any asks, I am completely okay with that and we’ll all flesh out the specifics we go :).

What is my overall purpose? Not only is this project made for my own individual purposes of learning more about the gods and other Greek Mythology writers, but it’s also the chance to spread the word of other writers. I know how hard it is to get specific audiences, especially when you’re shy, so this is a chance for your work to be stumbled upon. Each post on the eventual Ao3 fic will include your socials, how to find you, and your other general works on either ao3, tumblr, wattpad, or other :)

Can you participate even without socials or a tumblr page? Yes you absolutely can :). My asks will always be open to anons and I will do my best to give credit when I eventually post everything :). If you want to post multiple submissions or simply just want a trackable (between works) name to your writing, just sign something at the end. It could be a name, it could be a potential username, I don’t mind at all :)).

How do I submit things? Well, the best way would be to DM me :). I have a personal writing email separate from most things that would be perfect to either share a google docs with or to just send a copy-and-pasted copy of it. Otherwise, I take asks. None of them will be posted unless asked or we’re ready to so it’ll be safe to just drop them off in! It’s also where I take questions :).

Any other things to note? I’d really appreciate some other moderators and editors :). There’d only be like two or three of each and we’d have to know each other decently well before officially starting, but some help would be appreciated! Also, I’d like to keep a working ‘spreadsheet’ of who’s working on what just for people to see what’s going on :). Maybe some people can collaborate or it’ll encourage those niche writers to write :). A third thing is that most questionable stuff is accepted. I’d personally rather not handle all those things other than posting it so it might be a while until I can officially accept (consensual and/or graphic) ✨spicy stuff✨ but, other than that, I’ll take any of it (also, it’s Greek Mythology, almost all of it already happened). If someone’s willing to take over the ✨spicy stuff✨ then please DM me so we can work out the details and see if it’s a nice fit :)

Honestly, that all should be it. The main point is that I’m trying to start up a long-term project on Tumblr and Ao3 about what is essentially Greek Mythology character studies that not only allows for mass communication across a wide audience, but also (hopefully) gets some recognition for the smaller writers :). Feel free to DM me or send me asks with questions but for now, I shall sleep

Tagging: @bluebellstudio @thirteen-deaths-later @0lympian-c0uncil @happyk44 @h0bg0blin-meat @sworeontheriverstyx @deathlessathanasia @gotstabbedbyapen. Sorry if I tagged you and you want nothing to do with it, I just wanted to get it out there /pos /gen