#those posts in general always crack me up

[n1ghttrouble]

someone should use one of the f1 drivers for one of those "this is my transgender brother" tweets😭 do you know how funny it would be? People trying to clock him as a "female"?? entertainment of the week I swear

[cherrydott]

Not wealthy enough for the Mid Life Crisis and also life is unpredictable so I will be having an ongoing crisis

[nowoyas]

Trying to make sense of the Nanowrimo statement to the best of my abilities and fuck, man. It's hard.

It's hard because it seems to me that, first and foremost, the organization itself has forgotten the fucking point.

Nanowrimo was never about the words themselves. It was never about having fifty thousand marketable words to sell to publishing companies and then to the masses. It was a challenge, and it was hard, and it is hard, and it's supposed to be. The point is that it's hard. It's hard to sit down and carve out time and create a world and create characters and turn these things into a coherent plot with themes and emotional impact and an ending that's satisfying. It's hard to go back and make changes and edit those into something likable, something that feels worth reading. It's hard to find a beautifully-written scene in your document and have to make the decision that it's beautiful but it doesn't work in the broader context. It's fucking hard.

Writing and editing are skills. You build them and you hone them. Writing the way the challenge initially encouraged--don't listen to that voice in your head that's nitpicking every word on the page, put off the criticism for a later date, for now just let go and get your thoughts out--is even a different skill from writing in general. Some people don't particularly care about refining that skill to some end goal or another, and simply want to play. Some people sit down and try to improve and improve and improve because that is meaningful to them. Some are in a weird in-between where they don't really know what they want, and some have always liked the idea of writing and wanted a place to start. The challenge was a good place for this--sit down, put your butt in a chair, open a blank document, and by the end of the month, try to put fifty thousand words in that document.

How does it make you feel to try? Your wrists ache and you don't feel like any of the words were any good, but didn't you learn something about the process? Re-reading it, don't you think it sounds better if you swap these two sentences, if you replace this word, if you take out this comma? Maybe you didn't hit 50k words. Maybe you only wrote 10k. But isn't it cool, that you wrote ten thousand words? Doesn't it feel nice that you did something? We can try again. We can keep getting better, or just throwing ourselves into it for fun or whatever, and we can do it again and again.

I guess I don't completely know where I'm going with this post. If you've followed me or many tumblr users for any amount of time, you've probably already heard a thousand times about how generative AI hurts the environment so many of us have been so desperately trying to save, about how generative AI is again and again used to exploit big authors, little authors, up-and-coming authors, first time authors, people posting on Ao3 as a hobby, people self-publishing e-books on Amazon, traditionally published authors, and everyone in between. You've probably seen the statements from developers of these "tools", things like how being required to obtain permission for everything in the database used to train the language model would destroy the tool entirely. You've seen posts about new AI tools scraping Ao3 so they can make money off someone else's hobby and putting the legality of the site itself at risk. For an organization that used to dedicate itself to making writing more accessible for people and for creating a community of writers, Nanowrimo has spent the past several years systematically cracking that community to bits, and now, it's made an official statement claiming that the exploitation of writers in its community is okay, because otherwise, someone might find it too hard to complete a challenge that's meant to be hard to begin with.

I couldn't thank Nanowrimo enough for what it did for me when I started out. I don't know how to find community in the same way. But you can bet that I've deleted my account, and I'll be finding my own path forward without it. Thanks for the fucking memories, I guess.

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons!

lucifer, mammon and simeon ♡

part two (asmodeus, levi, barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: a few spoilers ahead from the main story! also one SLIGHT nsfw on simeons part???

small note: i only started writing on tumblr now so idk much on how ppl do those line thingies on the words and then it teleports to a diff post so if anyone knows how to do it please teach me! thank you :3

☆ lucifer:

- generally has a thing for turtlenecks. if you open his closet you'll see a bunch of turtlenecks in there. lucifer is a very conservative man after all.

- speaking of closet, he definetely has a color code for his clothing. blacks, reds, navy blues, anything dark

- you'll never catch him wearing anything revealing. especially his legs. man keeps em hidden.

- has a very sensitive nose. he always scolds mammon and asmo for wearing such strong cologne. he has great sense of smell in general (the bitch can smell anything) and automatically knows when trouble is near.

- EXTREMELY petty when he doesn't get his morning coffee. if he misses a day without it an extra line will appear on his forehead.

- gifts you souvenirs when he enters the human world. claims he's here for business because diavolo told him but we all know that's not the only reason why he came up there.

- he doesn't like writing with modern pens and only settles with quills. he still has his old quill from the celestial realm and keeps it hidden somewhere.

- almost gave head pats to luke once.

- his nose is FUCKING BEAUTIFUL and his side profile too. he has a nose bump for sure and i will die on this hill.

- he's not a big fan of creamy foods like carbonara or anything with cream in general. if he's eating sweets he prefers the icing to be less flavorful. what do you expect? he's a black coffee lover after all.

☆ mammon:

- room is always a fucking mess, but he cleans when he procrastinates so if you ever enter his room and he's all quiet and cleaning just don't disturb him for a while.

- buys bootleg merch for levi for no reason. one time he found this cheap ruri chan stuffy on sale for like 150 grimm and decided to buy it.

- has fucking shit hand writing bro. sometimes it's small, sometimes it's big but most of the time it's ass balls. like why does your k and h look the same?

- he cracks his knuckles and joints often and can't go without a day doing it atleast once. it's kinda hot tbh lol

- when he's in a happy mood he'll sing in like a high pitched way. idk how to explain it but i just see him doing that especially when he's on cooking duty

- sleeps really late he could almost rival levi on it. surprisingly his eyebags aren't that visible though.

- has really pretty features like long eyelashes, plump lips and visible collarbones. eat your heart out asmo xoxo

- convinced himself he'll never ever like or listen to human world songs until he heard you blasting some music in your room. he was singing that song in his head for days on end but refused to ask you what the title was

- he's a very clumsy guy and often drops small things especially during class like his ballpen, eraser or that pack of bubblegum lucifer ended up confiscating

- before you arrived, he liked to vape or juul when he's stressed or felt lonely but now he only spends his time thinking of you when he feels down.

☆ simeon:

- when he turned into a human he had thoughts of becoming a teacher in christian education but realized it's better if he owned a cafe instead.

- he sometimes joins luke during his baking lessons with barbatos even though he already knows all the steps

- occasionally invites you for sleepovers and buys card / board games for you guys to play with solomon and luke! either he or solomon are always end up being the winners everytime though

- always and i mean ALWAYS willing to teach you something when he knows it. baking, writing, recent lessons, etc

- once the exchange program ended he started writing more and more, especially poetry. and mostly wrote about you and how much he misses you <3.

- started making diary entries after the aftermath of the celestial war.

- during quiet nights, simeon often thinks what it'd be like if he was really close with the brothers.

- his eyes are lowkey creepy sometimes when he looks at you for too long. it's like he's trying to detect every sin you've committed.

- idk why i thought of this but his teeth are literally so pearly and perfect but he doesn't really smile with them in view.

- unintentionally moans sometimes. like when he sits down after a long day you just start hearing a soft "ah~" out of nowhere..

[david-talks-sw]

"The Acolyte" wasn't 'woke' propaganda.

I had my issues with the show (you can check out my other posts to see what they were) but there's this notion that The Acolyte was created to spread The Message™ of "woke propaganda"... and I think there's a bit of a mix-up going on, there.

Because that's simplifying things a lot.

When you're a minority, you're not "being woke" when you're just being yourself! Conversely, you're not "writing to be woke" when you're a minority drawing inspiration from your personal experiences to tell a story.

I talked before about how George Lucas implemented elements of his personal life in his own films. In his own words:

"There's no way to write without writing from yourself. Y'know, the stuff gets made out of things that you care about… whether you've actually lived them or not. There are emotional issues that you deal with, and I think that's always a major factor with any writer. I don’t think— it's hard to write without having some kind of emotional connection to the material. I've never seen any reason not to. It’s easy to write that way. It's hard to write in the abstract. So when I write a scene, I write a scene that moves me or I care about, or is something that is personal to me." - George Lucas, Q&A with Lynne Hale, 1994 (StarWars.com)

Any piece of writing worth some salt needs to come from a personal place to some degree because that's where the heart of the story, the truth, lies. That's what an audience will relate to.

Example: The six original Star Wars films are purely George Lucas. As in, everything in those films, from the characters, to the cinematography, to the editing style, etc are all a reflection of who George is as a person and what he stands for:

anti-Vietnam / "fight the corporate & imperial machine"

60s-70s white kid from Modesto, California

single father of three

who defines himself as Methodist-Buddhist,

has an anthropology major and

a passion for Kurosawa,

cinema vérité,

cinema history in general

art and visuals and

car racing.

You see all that in those films.

Same thing with The Acolyte.

Leslye Headland drew from her personal experiences.

Among other things, Leslye is gay. So that's what she uses as inspiration to, for instance, craft Qimir's character motivation.

"I was on the treadmill being like, “What is [Qimir] gonna say?!” And my wife, who is a huge part of my creative process, finally she said, “What do you wanna say? Stop thinking of it like you have to somehow tap into a different guy.” [...] I was like, “I wanna say that people don't want me to exist as a gay woman, as a woman in this particular space, working in this wild sandbox.” There was a whole crew of people who believed in me, but deep down, I felt like, “I am unaccepted for who I am because of what I believe in and wanting to wield my power the way I'd like without having to answer to the legion of people that just exist out there.”" - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024

She took this specific life experience of hers, and then made it more universal, so that a bigger audience could relate to it.

"By the way, I think everybody feels this way. I think that's why it resonates when you're honest about yourself, and you get personal about it. When [Qimir] says, “I want freedom,” that's what I want. I just want freedom. I want to be able to just be out there and be myself and be the type of artist I want to be without having to answer to anybody." - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024

Same goes with Osha and Sol's relationship, or how she defines the Jedi Order. It derives from her own relationship with her father and how she felt being raised straight, in a Christian household.

If you have the time, listen to this audio clip where she describes that.

In the context of the whole interview, her voice goes down a few octaves and starts to crack a bit. This is a vulnerable moment, when she's talking about it... and it's this experience that she turned into fuel for her writing of Sol and Osha's father/daughter bond.

"There's this thing that's called benign sexism, and part of it is this paternal protectionism — it seems like this good thing, but like you said, there's this, “I have to protect you from everything. I have to make sure you're okay. I have to tell you what track to get on, and then once you're on that track, I need to support you.” Ultimately, what happens is — again, this is a father-daughter relationship — as women evolve in their lives and develop their own personalities separate from their fathers, at some point, they have to reject that protectionism. [...] She cannot stay a little girl or an adolescent or young adult. She has to, at some point, say, “I reject what you have told me I need to do to make you proud, to follow in your footsteps.” She has to do that." - Leslye Headland, Collider, 2024

Now... if we're talking consistency with the themes in Lucas' Star Wars, then yeah, The Acolyte misses the mark.

The Jedi Order isn't the patriarchy or the Catholic Church. They're more like Buddhist monks, George has stated so multiple times.

The Jedi teachings aren't narratively meant to be the same traits found in toxic masculinity or benign sexism.

When a Jedi tells you to be mindful of your emotions, it's not meant in the "boys don't cry" sense.

When they talk about letting go of attachments, it's not meant in a stoic "don't get emotionally involved" sense.

Anakin too, the whole point is that he's wrong, the narrative frames his fall to the Dark Side as his own fault, it's not meant to be perceived as a failure in upbringing.

But she's not the only one who does it. Filoni does it too, a majority of fans have this take on the Jedi.

And because of her experiences, I can see why her takeaway would be that. Same goes for Filoni, they're products of their generation, upbringing and experiences.

My point is:

Leslye Headland is writing from a personal place, when she's writing The Acolyte. It's partially informed by her politics because - like she quotes, "personal is political" - but when it comes to the writing of the show, it's personal first and foremost.

What this was, was a Star Wars fan (arguably the nerdiest one we've had so far, in terms of creators) putting all of herself in the creation of a show that perfectly reflects who she is and what she stands for, resulting in:

a story about growing past your father's paternal control and accepting that our guides aren't infallible,

where her wife holds a role and gets to wield a lightsaber,

a show about taking corrupt religious institutions to task

about the Sith and the Dark Side

and questioning the unquestionable

and exploring whether the good are really so good and if the bad are really so bad.

This was a project written from the heart, and regardless of whether the resulting art found its mark, I think it's important to note that it wasn't written to spread a propaganda message in some "pro-woke holy war" or whatever the hell the YouTubers are peddling.

[msschemmenti]

My Way

Emily Prentiss x Reader

Wc: 1335

a/n: crack drabble to get back into writing in general that was inspired by a reel or tiktok storytime i saw

Prompt: Emily and the Crew head to their usual bar to unwind after solving yet another case. Emily is approached by a woman she’s never seen before but she can’t help but to admire her confidence.

“Anyone up for drinks? I think I could use a couple of rounds.” Derek called eyeing everyone as they gathered their things from their desks. They’d all just returned from a rather long case in Florida, which was always a reason to get drunk. Garcia and JJ were the first to agree, followed shortly by Rossi, and after a little peer pressure, even Reid agreed. All eyes landed on Emily expectantly, she raked her brain for an excuse but knew she’d be piling into the bar with the rest of the team. “Oh alright, I’m in.” 

With a triumphant fist pump, Derek led the way to the elevator and to the team’s usual bar. They piled into a booth toward the back of the room and commenced their usual routine of drinking, games, and unwinding. JJ had made her way over to the darts board and seemed to be schooling some men. Garcia and Reid were locked into what looked like an extremely serious conversation at one end of the booth. Rossi and Morgan were both eyeing the bar for what could only be considered their next conquest. And then there was Emily, watching them all nursing her drink in what could only be described as brooding. 

Suddenly Emily felt eyes on her. She gazed around the room hoping to catch whoever’s eye she caught. It wasn’t abnormal for her to meet someone on these team nights out. It wasn’t as frequent as Derek or Rossi but she got her fair share of phone numbers. She was just less likely to act on those approaches. The dating scene in DC was already such a difficult thing to navigate, and being on this team was not very helpful either. She was still surveying the room when she felt Derek nudge her shoulder gently. 

“Honey at one o’clock been giving you the eyes for a while now.” He grinned nodding in that direction. Emily discreetly followed his motion with her eyes and instantly met warm eyes. And they were in fact on her. She watched as the woman twirled a loc of her between her fingers and eyed her over the rim of some fruity drink. The woman smiled sweetly and floated a wink over to their table. Emily smiled back and nodded her head in greeting. Before she could even think about her next move Derek let out a whistle of appreciation. “Oh, I think you might’ve hit the jackpot tonight. I was hoping she was eyeing me but looks like she’s got different tastes.” 

“It’s not my fault you and Rossi are striking out tonight. Maybe it’s a sign it’s time to retire.” Emily grinned in jest causing both men to scoff in offense. 

“It’s a shame too, you probably won’t even take her up on any offer,” Rossi grumbled rolling his eyes. 

“Hey! You don’t know what I might do.” Emily protested earnestly. She moved her eyes back to the woman and watched as she talked with her friends. The bar they went to was a pretty popular spot for post-work drinks and the woman seemed to have come from some office job. She and her friends were all standing and sitting around a high-top table, some with tumblers of dark liquor and others with bright drinks like the woman. The women were all conventionally attractive, yes, but she had to be honest in the fact that she was very attracted to the woman eyeing her. 

“Princess, when was the last time you indulged? I know you’ve had plenty of offers.” Derek asked. 

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

“Oh sounds like she’s practicing celibacy.” Derek chided. 

“I indulge plenty.” Emily protested. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Morgan goaded with a grin. “If your bed is so popular, what’s stopping you from welcoming another?” 

“Morgan, just because a woman smiles at me from across the bar doesn’t mean she wants anything from me. Especially an invitation to my bed. Unlike you, I’m not desperate for any action.” 

Morgan’s eyes widened in shock and he brought his hand to his chest, “Oh you wound me. You wound me.” Before Morgan could continue his poking, Rossi cleared his throat to get their attention. 

“Behave, children. We’ve got company.” Rossi smiled as his eyes roamed to the end of the table.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.” The young woman called as she let the smirk settle on her lips. She stopped at the end of the booth and let her eyes settle on Emily. 

Derek was the first of the two younger agents to wake from their stunned silence. “I think we can be on our best behavior in the company of someone so beautiful, right Princess?”

Derek nudged Emily playfully but it really didn’t do much good considering she was absolutely locked in on the younger woman leaning against the booth. Her eyes slowly scanned her face in interest. Now that she’d come closer, Emily really couldn’t see any reason not to at least entertain the idea of spending an evening with this mystery woman. If she was lucky, she might even get more than just an evening.

“Princess, huh? Well, can I treat the Princess to a drink?” She smiled sweetly reaching a hand out toward Emily. As soon as the words left her mouth she could hear Morgan snickering next to her.

With a roll of her eyes, Emily took her hand and slid her empty glass to the center of the table. “I think I’d like that.” Allowing the younger woman to pull her toward the bar, Emily looked over her shoulder at Morgan and Rossi (and now Reid and Garcia) and stuck her tongue out tauntingly. They’d spent the entire night with no interest from anyone and she was getting a drink with a very attractive woman. All that talk with nothing to show of it.

Once at the bar, seemingly an equal distance from both of their parties, the woman turned to address Emily. “What’ll be?” 

Never having been one to submit, Emily grinned over the woman’s head and waved her hand toward the bartender. As the bartender made his way over to them Emily caged her arms around the younger woman and leaned over her shoulder, her body screaming dominate in every way she knew how.

“Let me have another beer and one of those fruity things for…” Emily ordered next to the woman’s ear. 

“Y/n.” 

“A fruity thing for Y/n.” Emily finished with a smile, never letting her eyes leave the woman she’d trapped between the bar and her arms. The bartender nodded and got the drinks out relatively quickly and they moved to the far end of the bar– out of the way but still just as close to each other. 

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say your name isn’t Princess.” Y/n started as she twirled the straw in her drink and gazed up at Emily through her lashes. 

“It is not. I’m Emily. My friend is just being a sore loser that I seemed to have caught the attention of the most attractive woman here.” Emily shrugged watching as Y/n’s cheeks tinted pink under her grin. 

“Well, I know what I want,” Y/n said, running a hand over the rim of her cup. 

“And what is it that you want?” Emily challenged. 

Y/n chuckled and allowed her hand to trace Emily’s jawline with a sweet smile. “Well if I have it my way, which I normally do, you’ll be wrapped around my finger before the night is over.” 

Emily raised an eyebrow as she allowed a smirk to take over her face, “Is that so?” Y/n didn’t answer at first and brought the straw of her drink to her mouth pulling Emily closer to her body. 

With their chests flushed and their eyes locked, Y/n grinned sweetly and whispered “You’ll see.” Securing Emily’s attention for the rest of the night, and potentially the future.

[shepscapades]

... that lean makes me think of the lean Bdubs did in the syncing comic....which if course begs the question: Did Etho pick up this habit of leaning to indicate processing/suspicion from Bdubs or did Bdubs pick it up from Etho? (or is it just a good way to show that emotion in comic form XD) Also.... the hair clip... My impression is that the flashback is from pretty early on. Is the hair clip a precursor to the well known headband? In universe, why a headband? Since they both do wear headbands... Was the headband originally Bdub's? Is... I know Etho is scared during the whole Last Life thing... is he thinking that Bdubs is planning specifically on targeting one of the androids? Or is that his fear talking?

... And after all that speculating... Ouch, Poor Tango!! ( i know this is an important event for Tango, but we don't see any of his reaction or feelings about any of this yet)

Wonderful comic, as always, Shep!

WEEE These are such good questions omg :DDDD alright i couldn't shut up so i'm putting it under a read more =w=

this is basically a mini comic breakdown! just rambling about some of the dbhc plot and mecahnics >:D

The lean is such a fun detail, i didn't even realize the similarities-- but it's actually a really nice (totally intentional) callback! I think Etho absolutely picked up those mannerisms from Bdubs, the same way Doc did from Ren, and so on so forth-- the androids, especially throughout season 8 and last life, are using their partnered hermits (and the other hermits in general) to learn what it means to be and act human-- vocal mannerisms, physical mannerisms, learning emotions for the first time and what it means to feel them, everything! I kind of see Season 8 as their "young" period-- their first season, the season they learn who they are and develop some of their most iconic traits. Etho is still himself, shyness and stoicism and all, but he learns his whimsy and silliness and teasing nature from being with bdubs for so long :)

THE HAIR CLIP <333 Yeah Etho's "Replaying Memory" moment is when Doc was checking out his "wounds" / the damage he sustained (from the initial creeper blast that caused his deviation) for the first time! At the time of the memory, It had probably been a little while since the actual initial incident where Bdubs had covered him up a little bit to hide the damage, but i'm sure doc or someone else noticed before long LDFKGJDF so this is their first like... "checkup"! So Etho is pretty young here (Doc too, but he already has his robot arm at this point, so...), maybe within the first month or two of season 8. So he definitely normally wears a bandana at this point (the same band bdubs made him wear initially to cover up the forehead cracks a little), but he's clipped his bangs back here so Doc can get a better look at the damage :)

I have a LOT of feelings about Etho's mental dialogue throughout last life, and it's very complicated and i won't be able to shut up about it so that's for another post. I will say, I don't think Etho ever truly thought Bdubs would Boogey kill him (though, doubt is a very powerful thing, so it turns out). I think Etho is still puzzling Bdubs out (though he's definitely learned quite a lot about him), especially when it comes to more serious situations like this, so the unknowns are definitely the biggest sources of fear for him. He can only do so much with the data he currently has, and the idea that a weapon so sharp could permanently damage any of the androids... it's an unsettling thought, regardless of whoever the mostly likely victim ends up being. (I don't think Etho expects it to be Tango, either-- not until he sees that look in Bdubs' eyes 10 seconds before it happens. I think Doc's little speech about their models is just helpful information for the reader and a sense of foreshadowing (as well as a reminder for Etho of how Not-So-Indestructible he is/the other androids are), not so much that etho thinks it's going to be tango after recalling the memory. Same for Bdubs. I dont think bdubs decided to target Tango until he was staring the back of his neck down and realized he could take the opportunity before he lost it). Anyway i've already rambled too much /silly

And lastly, Yes. This is, besides his deviation, probably Tango's most formative moment. The second time he truly experiences rage. I don't know if I could do a comic or an illustration that truly does his rage moment justice after he wakes up post-respawn and has a meltdown trying to kill bdubs, but knowing that Skizz wasn't built until s9 and is therefore missing from Last Life (AKA, Tango has no one other than Etho and Bdubs), just... makes this betrayal so, so much more painful. This betrayal is very much about Tango's rage, but it's also about his sense of trust and safety and his understanding of the way the world works. Hermitcraft is safety and jokes and support, and sure there's a bit of death here and there, but this is unlike anything he's ever known-- it's adrenaline and fear and threats and betrayal and. Anyway what a normal meltdown to have! And Etho can do nothing to calm him down except hold him back from killing bdubs (there's something to be said there too, about Tango knowing for certain now that Bdubs obviously chooses Etho over himself (Because come on, Bdubs wouldn't have killed Etho. Let's be honest here), but knowing too that Etho is choosing bdubs by not letting Tango get the revenge he so rightfully deserves...) Anyway. I think i'll explode if i think about this more

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do I write a stoic and serious character showing subtle signs of being romantically interested in someone? And how do I build it into something more? I have a few ideas on some subtle signs to write, giving extra care to their romantic interest, finding excuses to be around them... But I can't think of anything more without feeling like I am losing the characters' essence. They are not one to bare their emotions for others to see in general, so I imagine them subtle... But how to write it, and how to build it up from there is lost on me.

Stoic Character Falling in Love

There are lot of "subtle signs of interest and love" that shouldn't conflict with a stoic character:

-- stolen glances -- lingering looks -- eyes meeting, then darting away -- being tongue-tied when trying to interact -- voice cracking when trying to speak -- denying interest in other person when pressed (in early stages) -- awkwardness after accidental touching -- cracking smile/light chuckle after accidental touching -- speaking at the same time -- tentative touching -- finding ways to touch when intimate touch is restricted -- showing interest in learning about other person -- showing concern for other's well being -- giving meaningful gifts

As for building it into something more, being stoic just means that feelings are not openly shown, not that they aren't felt. Stoics also reserve emotion for things that really matter. They're not going to be moved by things (even on the inside) unless they're really important.

Love, one might argue, is one of the most important things. So your stoic character will most certainly feel all the emotions associated with falling in love, they're just not going to wear those feelings on their sleeve. That said, you're going to develop this relationship as you would any other... your stoic character just isn't going to be doing back flips off couches about it. :)

(Alan Rickman's portrayal of Jane Austen's stoic character Colonel Brandon is one of my favorites, and this video does a great job showing the budding relationship between him and Marianne Dashwood.)

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[anneapocalypse]

On the Former Scions and Leadership

Something that's kind of interesting to me about the Warrior of Light, which has always been there but which Dawntrail has me thinking about in a new way, is that the WoL really isn't a leader.

(Disclaimer: Obviously everyone has their own version of the Warrior of Light and is free to headcanon over and rewrite parts of the story to suit their character, and so what I'm saying here may not apply to everyone's character! For our purposes here, I'm just talking about The Warrior of Light as written.)

(Further note: I understand that there are a variety of feelings out there about the new characters and everyone is entitled to their own opinions about that; however this post is not an invitation to trash those characters in the notes so please refrain from that here; thank you.)

The Warrior of Light is a hero, but not a leader. Thanks to the linear nature of FFXIV's storyline, the game can't really offer us the conceit of making real choices, and so pretty much everything the WoL does is a result of someone else asking them to do it. So many of our major relationships with NPCs are with leaders: Minfilia, Nanamo, Kan-E-Senna, Merlwyb, Aymeric, Raubahn, Hien, the Exarch, Vrtra, Fourchenault, Wuk Lamat and Koana, every guild leader in our job quests. The WoL is someone called upon by leaders rather than being a leader themselves.

The Scions themselves have an interesting relationship to leadership in general. I've written before about how much the Scions feel like they're living in the shadow of Louisoix, especially in ARR, and how this affects their actions. As the leader of the former Circle of Knowing, Minfilia steps into the leadership position in his absence. I love Minfilia dearly; I think she has a true gift for bringing people together, making people feel welcomed and not alone, and helping them find purpose. I think all those skills probably availed her well as the leader of her Echo support group. It's when the Scions suddenly find themselves in the spotlight on an international scale following the defeat of the Ultima Weapon that I think the cracks start to show. I think that, very understandably, Minfilia is not prepared for the weight of that situation, and that's part of the reason she allows Alphinaud to step into such a leadership role himself (and also, and I say this with all the love in the world for both Alphinaud and Minfilia, why she even kind of lets him push her around at times). For Alphinaud himself, his experience of leadership with the Scions is disastrous, for which I think some responsibility also has to be laid upon the adults around him, who might have seen the red flags but didn't stop that train.

When Minfilia disappears, I think it's so telling that no one else steps up to fill the role of the Antecedent. Alphinaud is no longer so eager to take on that burden, and no one else is jumping at it either. Certainly the Warrior of Light isn't going to do it. (They're the boots on the ground, and the Antecedent is largely an administrative job.) The Scions instead just kind of agree to keep carrying on doing what they each do best, without an official leader. If anything, the glue holding the Scions together at this point is Tataru, who keeps the books and manages the budget and does her damnedest to keep certain people from putting overpriced purchases on the company card.

And that's not to say that none of the others have leadership skills! But it's interesting how, for those who do take on leadership positions, it's generally away from the Scions. After years of hiding under her sister's identity and "Papalymo's little shadow," Lyse takes an active role in the Ala Mhigan resistance, and helps to lead her people to freedom--a journey which ultimately takes her out of the Scions as she decides to stay in Ala Mhigo.

I'm counting G'raha as a Scion here since he does become one eventually, though not until after his hundred-year stint as the Exarch. It's clear both from the community that has grown up around the Crystal Tower, and from some really great G'raha moments in Endwalker, that he has real skills both at bringing people together for a common cause, and at taking charge in a crisis to protect the vulnerable. For the most part, though, he seems quite happy to take on a sidekick role after he returns to the Source. After a hundred years, I imagine anyone might be ready for a break from being in charge.

Y'shtola is harder to analyze because she's gotten less direct character development than most of the surviving Scions, and has remained largely in a supporting role thus far (though she remains a very interesting character to me, and I am hoping for a bit more of her in the Dawntrail patches given the setup for a cross-rift-travel solution). Y'shtola has always seemed reserved and a bit of a loner, and never seemed particularly interested in leadership until she threw in her lot with the Night's Blessed in the First. By the time we meet her again, she's become a trusted figure among the Blessed and the others clearly look to her for guidance and leadership. (It's also kind of interesting to me how both of the characters who wind up in leadership positions in the First are Seeker Miqo'te, and it probably was just a coincidence, but it'd be interesting to analyze how Seeker culture might prime a capable person to be willing to rise to the occasion where they see a group of people need.) Yet Y'shtola too seems perfectly content to settle back into a support role when she returns to the Source.

Endwalker is all about standing together, working together, the necessity of hope to overcome despair not merely individually but as a collective effort. The Scions all rally, each bringing what they have to offer, and they do so without ever appointing a new leader. They go where they see a need, like Urianger choosing to stay on the moon, or Thancred watching over the Warrior of Light and the twins when things go south on the relief mission to Garlemald, or the twins later taking a personal interest in the rebuilding efforts there. They also defer to leaders within the Eorzean Alliance where appropriate, happy at this point to work alongside the nations' armies rather than attempting to command one.

And the more I look at the Scions' history this way, the more their disbanding at the end of Endwalker seems inevitable and the logical end to the organization. In a very real sense they have completed the work that Louisoix and Minfilia set out to do. They've been leaderless for some time now already and it has not stopped them from doing good where needed. They are not leaders. Their goal was never to steer the course of world events indefinitely. They've all learned a lot about applying their individual talents for the greater good and having faith in one another to do the same, without having to be directed by one charismatic leader every step of the way--a major point of growth from where they were in ARR.

And all of this makes our role in Dawntrail really interesting to me, because it's all about leadership! And the Warrior of Light and their companions are, as characters, perfectly primed to take a supporting role and take initiative in that role where needed (see: Thancred and Urianger doing what needs to be done behind the scenes during the second act crisis). What the former Scions aren't, as a whole, at this point in their story, is people inclined to step up and take over. And this is a good thing for this story. Both Wuk Lamat and Koana need to learn and grow on their own, and in the context of their own cultures. The former Scions can help, they can support, and they do, but they aren't going to take over. Sure, they have opinions! At various points, we see characters on both teams (including the Warrior of Light) make some pointed faces at one another indicating that they have some doubts about the direction in which their candidates are taking things. But they withhold direct judgment or criticism for the most part and I think that makes sense both for their characters, and for the nature of the story.

I also think it was probably intentional that the former Scion with the most extensive leadership experience, G'raha, is not one of the characters hired by the claimants and doesn't come back to the plot until later. While I love G'raha and I did miss him, I understand story-wise why he couldn't be here; his unique circumstances mean that he has had more leadership experience than most people could ever have in a single lifetime, and it's probably for the best that that doesn't overpower the experiences of our young claimants who need to learn their own lessons on their own terms.

The support role of the former Scions also makes sense in other ways, I think, in terms of allowing the Turali characters and especially Wuk Lamat, as the main character, to shine in their own right and to avoid what could otherwise have been some problematic tropes. But I also think it works pretty well as a natural outgrowth of who these characters are and have grown into over multiple expansions, the Warrior of Light included.

[nicksbestie]

can you do a fic of little! matt where in one of their vids he gets hella anxious and as soon as it ends he just needs you and needs to be in little space

Recording - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Sometimes being in front of camera is just too much to handle.

Warnings : mentions of anxiety, crying,

Word Count : 1438

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

As someone who already struggles with severe anxiety, the automatic pressure that came with sitting in front of a camera and having the knowledge that it was going to go out for millions of people to see was amplified by ten. There is a lot of expectation on Matt’s shoulders every time they get ready to film, and while the majority of the fanbase don’t mind when he’s more quiet in the content that they post, there is always a nagging feeling in the back of his own mind that it’s bothersome, not entertaining enough, that his personality needs to change a bit, and those strings of thoughts do get to him. Not often, but sometimes it is enough to cause some issues during, before, or after filming. 

His brothers often cracked small jokes about him never talking, and while he was generally a quieter person, there was a part of him that was silent because of the fact that he was sitting in front of a camera, and anything he said would be on the internet forever, and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. Sure, they had a lot of stupid content out there, but that didn’t mean that the anxiety didn’t grab him by the throat every time the camera started rolling. He was doing better recently, it was not as bad, but he still had his moments. 

Today was one of those days, where he felt like he couldn’t breathe as soon as the light on the camera let them know that it was recording. He had tried to fight through the massive lump in his throat, hoping that they would get enough good footage that Nick could cut out all the bad clips of Matt looking like he was about to cry, which would serve as taking out two birds with one stone, because then he wouldn’t be seeing any extra sad edits of himself in the driver’s seat all over his recommended pages. As much as he loved all of their fans, sometimes seeing how depressed or anxious or sad he looked made it worse because it reminded him that people really were watching his every move in those videos. 

Matt really did love his job. He found it incredibly rewarding that he got to not only entertain but also bring comfort to people through just hanging out with the people that he had been around his entire life, and he wouldn’t want to change anything for the world. But he definitely wished that he could drop the crippling anxiety part of it, especially after such a bad recording day. Both Chris and Nick had noticed that he was off, more quiet than his normal persona on camera, and had tried to question him about it after they had stopped recording, but he had just brushed them off and told them that he was tired. He could tell that they didn’t believe him, but they didn’t push him any further. 

While he normally let his brothers help him where they could, there were a couple times every now and then when he just wanted to keep to himself. This always had the potential to be self destructive, and in the past, it had been, but at this point in his life he had gotten to the point that he was asking someone to come over and spend time with him if he had turned his brothers away. It was the same person every time. It was always you. Sometimes you were there with his brothers, if they had called for him, or if he had opened up enough to let them in too after you were already helping him. He wasn’t always wanting his brothers to see exactly what goes on in his most personal moments, because he held a lot of fear over their potential reaction if they saw what he really used to calm down.

You were more than just Matt’s partner. You were also his caregiver, the person he trusted with the most vulnerable parts of him. You absolutely adored him, and had never once taken that trust for granted. You had no intentions to ever do so. Neither of you could deny the fact that Matt’s way of coping was unconventional, not as heard of as some others, but also infinitely more helpful to his mind than other things he could have chosen. He had already known he was a little before he met you, and while it was a terrifying thing for him to talk to you about, he didn’t think he could be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t open to being his carer, especially knowing he would probably be regressed much more often in a comfortable relationship. 

Luckily, you had already known what he was talking about, and had been a carer in the past. You were more than open to loving that side of your boyfriend, and the relief that washed over his face when you told him that both made you smile and hurt our heart, knowing exactly how difficult it probably had been for him to tell you. Matt’s persona as a little was not very far off from his persona outside of his headspace. As you grew to learn his mannerisms and behavior, you recognized that he seemed to be basically the same person, just younger, smaller. He hovered around a toddler age, but he wasn’t chaotic. He was quiet, reserved, and didn’t talk much, but he was incredibly affectionate. When he was interested in something, you never heard the end of it, but he was content to just sit in your arms silently for a long period of time. 

However, the already small amount of talking completely disappears when Matt is pushed into his headspace from a negative force, like his anxiety. When it gets too bad, he cries a lot, doesn’t speak much, and stays absolutely glued to your side. You normally come over to find him staring in silence, not little, but as soon as you’re hugging or talking to him, he’s crying and it pushes him right in. If it gets terribly bad, it can push him into a younger state, but that is normally when the entire day has been absolutely brutal. Today hadn’t been brutal, but it hadn’t been great either, so you could tell you’d have an upset little when you received the text asking you to come over, and quickly. 

He never really wanted to talk when you got there, so you never pushed him. If he wanted to open up he would, and you knew that if he felt comfortable enough to slip into his headspace around you, when he wanted to talk, he would feel comfortable enough to do so. It didn’t take you long to get there, potentially speeding by more than you should have, but you easily entered after pulling into the driveway, using the key Matt had given you a couple of months ago. You greeted Nick and Chris quickly, moving up the stairs to Matt’s room. You could find him in this house if you were blind, but you still knocked on the door to let him know that it was you outside of it before entering. 

Opening the door, your eyes were met with a scene that was unfortunately fairly normal, but it still broke your heart every time. You immediately sat down next to him, positioning yourself at the base of the headboard, pulling him into you, a gentle pout forming on your lips when you felt his shoulders shake against you. You whispered comforting words for a long time, softly rubbing his back and running your hands through his hair, two things that often proved to be very effective in relaxing and calming him down. You could tell by his body language when he slipped, as his shoulders relaxed, and his arms held you a lot tighter, as if you were going to fly away. 

Comforting an upset little could sometimes be chaotic depending on the level of upset, but Matt normally just cried. It was often just sad to see how much pain he was in, but his littlespace really did help him. He didn’t hide his feelings and was much more open and willing to tell you what was going on, wholly trusting you with his entire being. But despite everything he had deal with so far that day, he knew that once he was wrapped up in your arms with his comfort items and a show playing, he was going to be just fine.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

[decepti-thots]

on a different note, someone really should write the story where cyclonus and arcee awkwardly reconnect post-canon and that's how we get to the common fandom trope of cyclonus being a woman. i know i'm always on my 'god, those two meeting up again and it's Really Awkward would be SO GOOD AND FUNNY' bullshit generally, but for real, i think it's worth mentioning that cyclonus is her peer, is also Old As Balls, and very possibly also remembers a cybertron before gender became Not A Thing, For Some Reason, just as she did. so if we're doing 'now gender is back on the books, cyclonus is getting on the she/her train', it's slightly different for her than it is for other younger characters! right? same as it was for arcee transitioning as opposed to, say, lug and anode. i want arcee to crack cyclonus' egg in the most awkward 'well last we saw each other your brother was fucking me over and we both did a lot of violence and shit. now we are both happily married and not. that. this is weird wanna get a drink' interaction of All Time. i hope you see my vision here.

[okaerina]

#사랑 enhypen as your bf !

warnings!...none just pure fluff and affection, lowercase intended.

notes : fun fact this was the first work i wanted to post but got distracted :)

genre : fluff, established relationships, slight angst

𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚!

soft flirty bf huhu he's literally gonna flirt so hard and on top of that if you're shy he's absolutely gonna shapeshift your cheeks into a tomato/strawberry whatv red stuff you prefer :) i mean we all know hee is a pro at flirting so good luck to your sanity RIP

lots of singing fs this man's gonna sing for you like can't sleep? dw babe he's got a soty typa lullaby, bored/stressed? who needs a lofi playlist when you got lee hee :) hEAR me out he's definitely gonna write songs for you jsjsjs he's gonna sing em to you randomly cause It's romantic right?? he'll look deep into your eyes, throw that signature smirk of his and sing oh so lovingly cause he knows he's driving you nutz ;)

lotsss of movie gaming dates he'll beat you at every game heyyy he's an ace i don’t make the rules 🥱 but time to time he'll chill down and let you win few rounds intentionally but you don't need to know that

he loves to kiss you sm, your cheeks are his fav place to smooch uwu. but don't forget to smooch him back hehe.

his love is is a mix of quality time and words of affection !

𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡!

omg he's gonna be so caring and protective towards you he's basically your second momma 😭

but don’t get fooled by his strong facade deep inside he's your lil kitty ready to be taken care of so plz do check on him and give him the affection he deserves

he gets seriously jealous whenever your paying too much attention on maeumi and she's reciprocating it with heavy affection. "cats are best" he would literally blurt out of nowhere and you can't help but laugh at his silly tantrum.

there will be times where won wouldn’t be feeling his best. all the stress, work and commotion tires him out sm yet he still feels like he's not the best. on those days he only seeks for your comfort. knowing very well all he needs is you beside him to make him feel better plz always love this boy he's gonna be a mess without you :(

his love is a mix of quality time and soft physical affection !

𝗝𝗔𝗬 !

rich sugar daddy bf but he actually acts like a dad lmao

if your eyes lingers on a item from more than 0.00001 seconds he'll buy it for you no matter what

he makes you lots of healthy homemade meals and does all the chores for you plz he's such a material man I want him 🛐

jay loves you alot and is always there to guide in every situation he'll be both mature and goofy cracking silly dad jokes to lighten up your mood girl you better appreciate this man and love him back 😾‼️

his love is a mix acts of service and words of affection !

𝗝𝗔𝗞𝗘!

so how does it feel to have a rizzmastser as your bf 😃? /j

he's so cute goofy and babygirl you wanna gatekeep him

he'll get excited over all sorts of lil things. will take you out on various fun dates like arcades, amusement parks, pet cafes but his most fav date place and activity is going out on a walk with you and layla in a nice, less crowded, green park uwu!

you’re basically layla's mom now. he'll let you play with her and take care of her in his absence (layla's so cute noo 😭)

another smooch lover but his fav place is the lips ;) his lips are basically glued to yours.

his love is a mix of quality time and physical affection !

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 !

awkward ahh goofy bf 😃

he's gonna be so unserious in general but dw he gets pretty mature and serious when he needs to be :)

he'll be a bit awkward at initiating affection first so if you take matters in hand and initiate affection first he'll be over the moon ahaha.

once he's opened up to you he'll be quite a affectionate guy but he isn’t a pda lover so behind closed doors he's all lovey dovey ^^

he'll let you play with gaeul and then he's gonna be like "gaeul is so lucky to have visual parents aka me n you 😌💅" and you’re like 😀👍 lmao

ice rink dates uwu. he's gonna be your personal figure skating coach &lt;3

his love language is definitely quality times !

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 !

the slayest bf ever im jealous 🥺

king of affection boy's literally gonna bicker about who's the most affectionate one or who's more slay lol.

lots of tteobokkie dates and self care nights

yall will do sleep overs and do each others skincare. he's practically gonna turn into your special dermatologist 💅

but he can be very serious and understanding. whenever your having a hard time he'll be there in a flash of light he understands you better than anyone in this world and is always there to cheer you up &lt;3

his love language is a mix of physical affection and quality time !

𝗡𝗜-𝗞𝗜 !

A 6'3" TEASE

but first he needs time to open up to you to get friendly enough to tease relentlessly

so when he gets all warmed up say bye bye to your life 😈 /j

he teases you and is very playful but dw he respects you alot too and is very understanding and serious when needed to be &lt;3

lots of piggyback rides from him, he loves to cuddle you and play footsies lol.

he loves to lay on your lap cuz in that position he can admire your pretty face and relax too 😍

he'll call you in his late night solo practices to showoff but it'll turn into a goofy dance session and filled with laughs and affection he's so 😢

he'll take you out on arcade or bowling dates and would tease the he'll out of you if you suck :D

insists on playing video games with you but it ends up with him doing some stupid bets you always keep losing 🙄 but dw he'll let you win time to time intentionally ;)

he'll be such a sillygoofy fun boyfie plz I want him he's so cool and cute

he's love language will be a mix of quality time and physical affection !

© aenfilmz /2023 !

taglist : @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck

[gregsgoodlookingneighbour]

An unawaited guest

[House x f reader]

( @privatehousesanatomy thanks for motivating me to post it ^^)

Knock knock. A sound from far away. Confused, she opened her eyes. Had that happened in a dream or was the knocking real? Again, this time more indulgent. She reached for the light switch on her bedside lamp and squinted as it lit up. Slowly, she straightened up and walked out of her bedroom, down the hallway towards the front door. As she put one step in front of the other, she tried to wake up. Who would want anything from her this late? Surely midnight had already passed. As she walked past the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of the clock. 01:12. It knocked again. “Yes, yes....,” she mumbled and hurried a little more. When she looked through the peephole, she saw the face of a man. He looked tired, no, exhausted rather. The corridor wasn't exactly flooded with light, so she couldn't see much. But she recognized him and that was enough for her.

House?” she asked, still drowsy, when she had opened the door a crack. “I.... couldn't sleep...and....,” he began, but fell silent again. 'I don't know him like that,' she thought and opened the door wider. She became more and more aware of her tiredness. But she didn't want to turn him away, so she made a brief gesture for him to come in. She closed the door and turned on a small lamp so that she wouldn't be in the dark with him. “Do you want some water?” she asked, not quite knowing how to respond. She took a closer look at him. His face was wet with sweat, his hair drenched. His skin was unusually pale, except for his eyes. They were marked by red circles. He looked exhausted. “Yeah...”

She walked ahead towards the kitchen. Had he been driving or walking? He already had problems with his leg in general, but they seemed to be much worse today.

She opened a cupboard and took out a glass. “With sparkling water or without?” she asked. “Without.” She nodded and poured him a drink from a bottle. He sat down at the table. She put the glass down in front of him before sitting down opposite him. “So - what brings you to me this late?” she asked as she wiped the sleep from her eyes with both index fingers. “You said you were familiar with pain... it's getting worse.” He paused for a moment and let his gaze wander around the kitchen for a moment before he looked her in the eye again. “I... am in withdrawal and I need help.” His voice sounded brittle. She instantly felt a little more awake. That was completely out of character. House was asking for help. She would have rather bet that Christmas and Easter fell on the same day than hear those words come out of his mouth.

“Have you tried heat?” He nodded. “I don't think I can sit in the bath for long, unless I get webbed feet.” To emphasize his point, he stretched out his hands and looked at them. There it was again - his sarcasm. Inwardly, she sighed with relief. “I think I know something,” she said and stood up. She pulled a cherry stone pillow out of a drawer and put it in the microwave. She pressed the buttons and wandered off into her thoughts again. She couldn't let him drive or leave like this. “Wait here,” she said and left the kitchen. He would probably inspect her kitchen more now to find out more about her. He always wanted to know everything so that he could predict everything. She was too tired to stop him.

In the living room, she unfolded the sofa bed and covered it with fresh bedding. After laying out a pillow and a blanket, she returned to the kitchen. He was sitting - neither as she had expected nor in his place. The glass in front of him, now empty, had been looked at by him for a while. She took the grain pillow out of the microwave and wrapped it in a fresh kitchen towel so that it wasn't too hot. “I've covered the couch for you. Come with me,” she said and went back into the living room. He followed her. He also seemed to be tired, because his cane kicking was irregular and slow. He finally sat down on the couch she had covered. “I could also massage your leg, that would probably help you for a few more moments,” she said. After she had said the sentence, she wanted to slap herself. What a stupid phrase. She really was tired.

He nodded and began to undress. Out of embarrassment and because she didn't know what else to do, she turned away for a moment. Instead of getting a stupid comment, however, she heard nothing but the sliding down of fabric. When she turned back around, his pants lay folded up with his jacket on the floor. In the dim light of the lamp, she could now see his leg better. Where there had once been a muscle, in his right leg, just above his knee, was the scar. She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, because she also knew what it was like to be stared at because you were different, so she knelt down in front of him without comment. She carefully touched his leg and began to massage around the area. Since he didn't talk back and she knew that stroking wouldn't help, she applied more pressure after a while. She looked up briefly to check that he was all right. His eyes were closed and his mouth was ajar. “That feels good....” fell from his lips.

Smiling slightly, she looked at the leg again and continued. She felt every fiber of his skin and wondered how he was taking care of his leg. He was probably just rubbing it, because she couldn't feel that he was letting his surrounding tissue relax more often, in short: his leg was as hard as a rock. Somehow that didn't surprise her, as he had become dependent on Vicodin due to the pain, but she still wished he had at least tried to give his body more rest more often and not in the form of not being in pain, but in the form of relaxation - not in a sexual way.

Once she felt that his leg had relaxed a little more, she stopped. “Lie down now,” she said gently and stood up again. “Too bad, I thought that since I already had you down there, we'd move on to the interesting part,” he remarked, looking her in the eye. A tired smirk graced her lips, but she reached for the pillow and gave it to him. “Good night,” she murmured and wanted to leave, but he held her by the wrist. “Lie down with me.” She sighed. “This isn't going to end well. You know that.” “I won't do anything either. I swear to the Indians,” he said and lay down. He had placed the grain pillow on his leg.

She could feel the tiredness gnawing at her, barely allowing her to stand, so she gave in. It would only be this one time that she lay down next to him, she swore to herself. As she lay next to him, she felt as if she was being pressed into the cushions by a heavy weight. “How's your leg?” she asked. She could feel how difficult it was for her to speak. She was about to fall asleep. “Better. Thanks” he murmured. She closed her eyes. She could feel him looking at her now, but she was too tired to say anything back. The last thing she felt before she fell asleep was the steady breathing next to her. A slight smile crept onto her lips.

[elspethdekarios]

I have thoughts about Anders

So I just finished Dragon Age: Awakening (I’ve played through all 3 main games, went back to do the DLC) and I have so many thoughts about how different Anders is pre- and post-Justice sharing his body. I think part of this is the voice actor change in DA2, but his personality seems so different, too. Awakening Anders is sarcastic, always cracking jokes, mostly light-hearted even after everything he’s been through. DA2 Anders has moments like this, but he’s much more intense and brooding. Awakening Anders has a few lines about wanting to settle down with a pretty girl or have a plump wife waiting for him at home, but DA2 Anders is PINING. And with the time skip, it’s a slow burn. Awakening Anders doesn’t strike me as the slow burn type—he’s very flirty and even a little raunchy at times. But Anders in DA2 doesn’t really act like that. He’s got a tortured, romantic soul. He’s much more serious. And maybe it’s just because he’s grown up a little bit, but now that I’ve met Justice as a character before he and Anders become one, I wonder how much of that change is Anders maturing vs. Justice’s personality coming through.

I know this game has been out forever and I’m probably not saying anything new, but Anders is so fascinating to me. More rambling and dialogue analysis under the cut:

The very first thing that struck me as different about Anders in Awakening (other than his general personality) was his response to Wynne telling the Warden Commander that the Libertarians in the Circle want to pull away from the Chantry, and Anders says that it’s a recipe for disaster. SIR! WHO ARE YOU?

Awakening Anders also doesn’t seem particularly interested in justice for mages or revenge for how he and other mages have been treated. He wants his freedom, and I’m sure he wants freedom for other mages too, but he’s not exactly radical like he is in DA2. In fact, it’s Justice who seems to inspire Anders to, well, seek justice. I’m emphasizing some of this dialogue to analyze it below:

Justice: I understand that you struggle against your oppression, mage. Anders: I avoid my oppression. That's not quite the same thing, is it? Justice: Why do you not strike a blow against your oppressors? Ensure they can do this to no one else? Anders: Because it sounds difficult? Justice: Apathy is a weakness. Anders: So is death. I'm just saying.

Justice: I believe you have a responsibility to your fellow mages. Anders: That bit of self-righteousness is directed at me? Justice: You have seen oppression and are now free. You must act to free those who remain oppressed. Anders: Or I could mind my business, in case the Chantry comes knocking. Justice: But this is not right. You have an obligation. Anders: Yes, well... welcome to the world, spirit.

Now, look at this conversation between Anders and Isabela in DA2:

Anders: I don't know how you live the way you do, blithely ignoring the consequences of your actions. Isabela: This is about the Qunari thing, isn't it? I'm not ignoring it. I just recognize that it happened years ago. Isabela: There's this fantastic thing called "moving on." You should try it sometime. Anders: Has it occurred to you that Kirkwall is only just recovering from the Qunari attack? Isabela: And you want me to... what? Flog myself daily? Isabela: Has it occurred to you that maybe there's no justice in the world? Other than that voice you keep in your head.

Isabela sounds more like Awakening Anders than Anders himself does in this conversation. Justice accuses Awakening Anders of ignoring the oppression of other mages like DA2 Anders accuses Isabela of ignoring the consequences of her actions (for the record, I don’t think either of these assumptions are 100% true, but I digress). In Awakening, Anders is cynical when Justice tells him he has an obligation. What can he change? He has to worry about his own survival as an apostate before risking his life even more to save others. Hence the line “welcome to the world, spirit.” Anders is pragmatic, even a little pessimistic, where Justice is idealistic.

But then, the conversation with Isabela! Like Justice tried to convince Anders of his obligation to other mages, Anders now is trying to convince Isabela to take responsibility for her actions. She’s ignoring the unrest that was caused by her stealing the Qunari tome instead of doing something to help—just like Awakening Anders is ignoring his oppressor. 

When Anders and Justice merge, Anders starts to see the bigger picture, the oppression that reaches far beyond himself. From the short story Anders:

I always knew I wouldn't submit. I could never be what they wanted from me -- compliant, obedient, guilty. But before Justice, I was alone. I never thought beyond my own escape: Where would I hide? How long before they found me? Now, even that thought repulses me. Why should so many others live with what I will not? Why must the Circle of Magi stand? Just because it always has, just because those who read Andraste's words twisted them to mean that mages must be prisoners? Why has there never been a revolution? … They will all die. Every templar, every holy sister who stands in the way of our freedom will die in agony and their deaths will be our fuel. We will have justice. We will have vengeance. And suddenly I'm alone, standing in a burning forest, with the bodies of templars and wardens at my feet. So many, and I didn't even know they were there. Didn't even know I had killed them, but the evidence is all around me. Not the aftermath of a battle as I've known it, but a bloody abattoir of rent limbs and torn and eaten flesh. This is not justice. This is not the spirit who was my friend, my self. What has he become? What have I become? We must get out of here. There is no place for me in the Grey Wardens now. Is there a place for me anywhere?

First of all, ow, my heart. But the point is: before he becomes part of Anders, Justice doesn’t feel a personal connection to mages’ freedom—he only cares because of the injustice. But once he and Anders become one, the source of injustice that Anders cares about the most, that he has deep resentment for, that has caused him great harm, becomes Justice’s cause. We know that Justice can sense/feel memories of the body he inhabits because he remembers some of Kristoff’s past, or at least feels connections to certain objects or people even if he can’t explain it. Kristoff was dead, though, so those memories were only fragments. I imagine that with Anders, he can experience those memories more clearly, including, of course, the injustice he and others have suffered at the hands of the templars. Justice is able to integrate into Anders fully, whereas with Kristoff, the body was an empty vessel with remnants of the past soul that was within it. 

Now, let’s talk about where Anders ends and Justice begins, something that even Anders himself is unsure of. Here are some DA2 banters about the division (or lack thereof) between the two of them:

(Outside The Hanged Man, Act 3) Anders: Justice doesn't let me get drunk anymore. I kind of miss it.

(in Legacy DLC) Anders: I've tried to forget about this side of myself. Justice is... so strong. Sometimes the Wardens seem insignificant. But seeing that poor bastard brings it all back. The Darkspawn taint. The call of the archdemon. It's inside me, as much a part of me as Justice.

Anders: Justice once asked me why I didn't do more for other mages. I told him it was too much work. Anders: But I couldn't go back after that. Couldn't stop thinking about it. Anders: Sometimes, I miss being that selfish.

Varric: So, the knight-commander... Boiling in oil? That one never gets old. Anders: This is past time for joking. Varric: I'm helping you indulge in elaborate revenge fantasies. I think it's good for you. Anders: Meredith will die. Do not doubt that. Varric: Go away, Justice. Can Anders come out and play? Anders: [Justice voice] Stop. Varric: You are no fun anymore.

(if Anders was taken to the Fade) Anders: I have tried to avoid the Fade since Justice. It's disturbing when he takes over.

The above dialogues imply that Anders and Justice are two separate entities in one body. The one from Legacy is tricky, since he compares it to the taint, but he still refers to Justice as separate from himself, which is why I included it. And that’s not even touching on the fact that Justice has a different voice than Anders. But these:

Aveline: So you're two people, Anders and... Justice? Anders: That's not strictly accurate. Aveline: But you are of two minds. Anders: Many people are.

Isabela: Hello? Is Anders there? Can I speak to Anders? Anders: You can stop yelling. It's always me. Isabela: Oh, good. I didn't want to talk to that other guy. You know, the stick-in-the-mud. Anders: He can still hear you. Justice and I are one. Anders: Anyway, you wanted to talk to me? Isabela: Not really. I just wanted to make sure it was you.

(If Hawke convinces Anders to give up his plan) Vengeance: Leave! This does not concern you! Hawke: This is Anders's decision, not yours! Vengeance: I am Anders! You have given into sloth. You would stand by while mages are abducted and tortured. Go. Anders has no need of you.

There’s not a clear answer either way. And I didn’t expect to find one. I think a lot of this back and forth is Anders trying to understand who he is now that Justice is part of him. He clearly still feels like he has some level of agency and individuality apart from Justice, but he struggles with it. This feels very anticlimactic, but I guess that’s just the nature of it all.

If you read this far, wow thanks. Now to not leave off on a sad note, here are some DA2 banters that feel very Awakening Anders to me - please enjoy <3

Anders: I keep thinking I know you from somewhere... Isabela: You're Fereldan, right? Ever spend time at the Pearl? Anders: That's it! Anders: You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right? What was her name? Isabela: The Lay Warden? Anders: That's right! I think you were there the night I— Isabela: Oh! Were you the runaway mage who could do that electricity thing? That was nice... Hawke: Please stop talking. Now. (Or if Varric is in the party) Varric: I don't think I need to know this about either of you.

Anders: So, I never expected to be palling around with the captain of the guard. Aveline: We're not "pals." Anders: We're not? What about that time we painted each other's toenails? Aveline: Do you want something? Anders: Love, life, and liberty. What more does a man need?

Anders: Nice day to be planning a trip into the Deep Roads, don't you think? Anders: The Blight, the dampness, the festering darkness filled with tainted rats... Carver: Shut up. Anders: You've got a real chip on your shoulder, you know? Carver: I've got a big blade on my shoulder, magey. Anders: Right. Wonder what you're compensating for.

Fenris: Is there something you want, Anders? Anders: You really don't have the temperament for a slave. Fenris: Is that a compliment or an insult? Anders: I'm just wondering how your master didn't kill you. Fenris: How have the templars not killed you? Anders: I'm charming.

Anders: Is that supposed to be Andraste's face on your crotch? Sebastian: What? Anders: That... belt buckle thing. Is that Andraste? Sebastian: My father had this armor commissioned when I took my vows as a brother. Anders: I'm just not sure I'd want the Maker seeing me shove His bride's head between my legs every morning.

(All dialogue found on the Dragon Age fandom wiki.)

[theoretically-bri]

Logan Howlett Smut Alphabet 💛

Note: No spoilers here! Promise! Not specific to any canon. overall this is geared towards casual partners, long-term is a whole different thing with him. This is general characterization by someone trying to get a feel for writing the character lol maybe leaning a bit towards Worst Wolverine!Logan, but not completely him

Also I haven’t written and posted in a very long time, so be nice to me ✨ and he’s a new character for me

Warnings: 18+ , mention of unsafe & rough/violent sex, overall filth tbh this man is gross and I love him

3k words

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

Like so many things for him, it depends on who the sexual partner is. Someone casual who was enjoyable may get a hand in cleaning up and a slight check in after, depending on the intensity of what they did. An actual partner gets a more attentive response, silent and gentle physical care before being held and checked on mentally.

A fuckbuddy or particularly irritating or bad casual fuck might get a wet washcloth slapped onto their body and a quick eviction from the space. They may just get the second part.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Logan’s favorite body part of his own would probably be his thighs. His entire body is thick with muscle, but his legs are just something special. Strong for fights or getting work done. Pretty well-loved by any and all lovers too.

On a partner he’ll never complain about a good ass. Sometimes it’ll even be the sole reason he pursues someone. But he also likes when a mutant partner has a visible aspect to their mutation. He isn’t really sure why, but it certainly can make the experience unique.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves any aspect of cum during sex. He loves marking his partner by cumming on their face (or any other part of their body, really. Or their clothes.) But if he’s fucking someone then he’ll always prefer cumming inside them. He loves to cum inside multiple times and leave the person a sore, dripping mess.

When it comes to another person’s cum, he’s pretty indifferent overall. However, he likes to do what he can to make someone cum untouched or squirt. That’s something of a point of pride to him and always tries to make it happen.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He can smell when someone has just masturbated, had sex, or is even just very turned on. He uses that to try and score with those he knows are already aroused. Maybe it’s cheating or predatory, but it works.

He’s also fucked people bent over Scott’s bike multiple times and not cleaned it after. Although that’s less of a secret, he’s obviously the only one who would do that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s over two hundred years old. He’s had a lot of sexual partners and a lot of chance to experiment and perfect his methods. However, there are some kinks or practices that lean a little more modern that he hasn’t gotten used to yet. He’ll get the hang of it, he just hasn’t had enough practice yet. But he’s not going to half-ass anything, it will be good.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Logan will always go for anything from behind. Sometimes it’s about less intimacy than facing someone, but it typically has more to do with other factors. The physical leverage it gives him over the other person, the ability to pull his partner’s hair, more available surface area to bite and mark. It often feels more animalistic, which appeals to him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Overall he’s going to be more serious. With a more casual partner or total stranger he’s likely to be his typical gruff self even when it comes to sex. If he’s with someone he’s in a relationship with or trusts more, he’s more likely to crack the occasional joke and overall lighten up if he’s in the right mood. But no one would really call him humorous, just less intense than normal.

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

A razor has never gotten anywhere near any of Logan’s hair except for on his face and head. And that’s not to say that he naturally has minimal body hair. His chest is fully covered and a generous amount covers the rest of his torso in addition to a thick happy trail. And it’s no surprise that below the waist isn’t groomed either, everything is entirely natural. He’s not lacking anywhere in hair and that’s exactly how he likes it. It’s how he’s comfortable and it holds onto his natural musk.

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

Sex is about the physical act and getting off, Logan’s typical encounter isn’t going to be intimate in the slightest. There’s definitely no romance involved at all unless it’s with someone he is actually involved with and trusts. Then the level depends on how long he’s been able to let his guard down. He can be a bit of a secret romantic, but not until he trusts the person and knows that they’re safe.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Logan can’t keep his hands off of himself just as much as he can’t keep his hands off of other people. While he vastly prefers sex over masturbation, sometimes the latter is the only option. Sometimes it’s in the comfort of his own bed, with some porn and a fleshlight. Other times it’s ducked into an alley with just spit as lube for his fevered stroking. He enjoys it, but a lot of times it’s just because he popped a boner in an inappropriate situation and needs to get rid of it quickly. It feels good, eases stress and frustration, and keeps him from getting too pent up if it’s been a little while since his last real fuck.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

With heightened senses, he’s incredibly sensitive to scents. This can possibly cause overstimulation, but he views it as a benefit when it comes to sex. He can know if someone is turned on just by being near them. He loves people’s natural scents, especially if they’ve been in nature or sweating some. He’ll get into any crook that he can and happily breathe in a good musk more than fresh air. He’s also been a culprit of stealing clothes in the past, only discovered when he’s found frantically jerking off with someone’s missing item pressed right to his nose and held between his teeth. His own scent is included in this kink, he’ll scent mark a partner or their belongings in any way possible, including with cum. And he’s been known to be particularly enthusiastic about shoving someone’s nose into any possible area after he’s worked out or been in a fight.

Given his excessive animal instincts, breeding can be extremely appealing. Having someone in a breeding position can make it damn near impossible for him to resist growling in their ear about how he’ll knock them up. It’s one reason that he absolutely hates condoms. Of course, he also doesn’t want to risk reproducing accidentally at all. Which leads to another kink.

He’s not sure if anal is really considered a kink by this point, especially when he’ll swing any way, but he loves it. Anyone who can handle (or wants) pain needs less prep, which is a plus all around in his mind. It gives him the chance to fuck without a condom and indulge in breeding fantasies and cum inside with no risk. It’s also usually easier for partners with pussies to take him that way, otherwise he gets a few inches in and nothing else will fit. Plus the gape after he’s finished, puffy and dripping with his load and no way to stop from making a mess, is enough to get him going again immediately after.

Being addressed as authority with honorifics like Sir are a big one for him as well. This one happens less since it typically only happens with those he hooks up with more than once and actually discusses kinks with. But submission paired with acknowledging his authority is a quick way to work him up. (Especially for any Logan who works at the school as a professor. Not with his students, but his colleagues are free game)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

With hookups and casual partners he’s okay with just about anywhere he can get it. It isn’t anything special to him, so he feels no need to go out of the way to hide or be secretive. He’s likely to fuck anyone anywhere but his own home. That’s his space, it’s not for the eyes of strangers and those he doesn’t trust. Anyone else’s space is free game, though, whether that’s whoever he’s with or just an empty room in the mansion.

But someone he cares about is different. Maybe he’ll still be a bit careless about being seen in moments, but he’s much more possessive. He’s going to keep someone he cares about more private overall, keeping many encounters at home and even in his bed. That interaction isn’t for anyone else but them.

But outside of his home, his favorite location is the woods. The connection to nature, the unlikely but not impossible risk of being caught, and the ability to go as feral as he wants makes taking a partner into the forest a favorite. Sometimes casuals get to do it, but it’s always more meaningful if he cares about who he’s with.

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

A nice ass is probably the easiest way to turn him on. Something plump and shown off is a quick way to get his interest. But that’s not difficult, especially during the summer with abundant booty shorts and bathing suits.

Another thing that gets him going is adrenaline. Being on a mission or in a fight gets his blood hot, sometimes to the point where it can’t be ignored even in the moment. But usually he’s able to keep a hold on himself until the actual fighting is over. Usually

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s not bottoming. Ever. He loves anal with partners of any gender, but he will never be on the receiving end of it. It’s not anything to do with internalized shit or masculinity issues, he’s just not fucking doing it. Simple as. It’s not happening solo and it’s not happening partnered. Anything more than a bit of sneaky tongue or a squeeze when he’s being blown is more than likely going to end with broken bones and a quickly ended experience.

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

He will give, but he’s much more into receiving. When giving oral he’ll either use it as a reward or to tease relentlessly and showcase the control he has over someone. There’s very few times that he’ll have any desire to give otherwise. The exceptions typically have to do with someone peeling out of sweaty clothes and his sudden need to bury his face in sweat and skin and as much scent as possible.

Receiving is another thing entirely. A good blowjob can easily be more enjoyable for him than sex. He’ll frequent gloryholes if he isn’t getting enough to satisfy him otherwise. It would take extreme circumstances for him to turn down a blowjob from just about anyone. Sometimes he’ll want to be involved and fuck into the person’s throat and make them choke, but other times he’s happy to just enjoy himself without lifting a finger.

A good enough blowjob when he’s in a bad mood can make him seem like a completely different person afterwards.

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

Lovemaking isn’t in Logan’s vocabulary. Unless he’s somehow managed to live a peaceful life for a while or is seriously attached to someone, sex isn’t getting gentler than leaving a few bruises. With humans he tries to keep a hold on his strength, but for that reason he prefers to sleep with mutants. Especially the variety with some level of durability or healing abilities. He fucks rough and fast, he needs to not worry about breaking whoever is on the receiving end.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes quickies because it means there’s no time for awkwardness or expectation. A lot of times he’ll let the other person initiate because he’d be happy whether they did it or not. But there are times that the adrenaline can get to him on a mission or too much teasing in a not-quite-alone setting can get to him. If he initiates it doesn’t matter if it happens in a bush, an alley, or against a stranger’s car, he needs to fuck to get it out of his system.

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

With an inability to catch any infection and the ability to immediately heal from any wound, he takes more risks than necessary. He’ll visit a dirty, sketchy gloryhole without a second thought as long as a warm mouth gets on his cock and he gets to cum. He despises condoms and doesn’t wear them for disease prevention purposes, he only wears them to avoid unintentional reproduction. He’ll also engage in blood play (intentional or not) without a second thought. Even though he likes hard kinks and experimenting, he’s less likely to do something that puts his partner at risk, but that’s just another reason for him to seek out more durable partners.

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

The combination of his experience, self control, and his abilities make it so that he could last for hours if he wanted. Usually a first round could be over in a few minutes, depending on how long it’s been since he last came and how worked up he is. But other than that, he has pretty solid control over his own pleasure and how long he lasts.

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

He’s tried a variety of different “sleeves” over the years, each boasting their realism. Nothing has ever gotten even close to any hole it’s said to. No, he will always prefer a real person to fuck into. But if that’s not an option and his hand just isn’t cutting it, he still keeps around a few of the toys. They always end up destroyed and typically unusable after just one fuck. Maybe something custom sized would fix the issue of him being too big for them, but it wouldn’t change how rough he was and his habit of forgetting his own strength when he gets close.

He isn’t opposed to using toys on a partner, either. Sometimes he can use one of his stretched-out, destroyed pocket pussies for size humiliation, but otherwise he doesn’t own any. if he goes to someone’s place or meet somewhere and they bring their own? He’s okay with adding them in. For a while he didn’t like it, wanted to be the only thing involved in giving pleasure. But eventually he realized that bringing in something extra can make things more interesting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease in order to flaunt his power in a situation. There’s times he’ll tease otherwise, but it comes across as more mean than typical teasing would. Otherwise, he doesn’t tease too much when it comes to sex.

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

His sounds are as animalistic as everything else with his fucking. Low grunts and panting and growls. He can dirty talk as well, but that depends on his mood and what his partner is like. He doesn’t tend to be loud unless he’s close to finishing or if something catches him by surprise.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He gets hard in so many situations that he doesn’t want to. It can be because of high adrenaline, the result of being pent up, or even just smelling arousal on someone else. A lot of times he’ll ignore it, either try to hide the hard-on or just sport it shamelessly. But sometimes it’s too much to ignore and he’ll do whatever possible to get off as quickly as possible. The solutions range from slyly offering cash to someone eyeing him for some quick help or even just jerking off right where he is. Maybe he tries to be discreet, maybe not.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Most of his body is made of thick, corded muscles with prominent veins. When flexed it’s all chiseled in appearance, but very soft when neutral. He can almost be mistaken as being a bit soft around the middle until he flexes.

He’s covered in hair everywhere and likes it that way.

He’s uncut and a shower more than a grower. His dick is not short by any means, but the girth may be the most impressive part. So thick that his love for blowjobs can often be a bit of a problem for those trying to get him off. The size has resulted in a few dislocated jaws and a lot of people just being able to take the tip and jerking off the rest.

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

When it comes to his sex drive, he could go at any time. It just depends on if he’s in the mood for it. And he’s often in the mood for it. Sex gives him an outlet to work out aggression as well as it just feels good and he enjoys it. Maybe his relationship with sex isn’t the healthiest, but his body craves it near constantly and it hasn’t caused any (serious) problems yet.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Because of his physical stamina and regeneration, it’s extremely unlikely for him to be fatigued after sex. He’ll usually get up to clean up and maybe grab something to eat. If it’s someone casual, he likely isn’t getting back into bed (or wherever they happened to be) until the other person leaves. With a true partner he’d hold them and maybe go to sleep a bit after them if he wanted to. But the sleep isn’t needed for him and he likes to savor any peaceful moment that he can.

[hiskillingjar]

brother-and-sister bonding

Relationship: Ren Hana/MC Rating: Explicit Includes: Fauxcest, Hate Sex, Bratting, Sex Toys, Lactation Length: 5400+ words

a super generous and fun request for an anonymous user on ko-fi, thank you so much!

if you'd like a commission of your own, feel free to check out my post and shoot me a message!

Life was easy for Ren. 

He had a routine, he had a structure, he had a set of rules that he could abide by, day to day, to make sure he stayed alive and stayed sane.

In the mornings (or early afternoons, depending on how long he slept in for, how bad the night before had been for him), he’d wake up, make breakfast, clean up after himself, and then maybe, occupy his time with a new show (he got through his watch list in record time, these days) or some heavily filtered internet access. 

At mid-day, he’d eat lunch, take a nap in the armchair in the living room while he watched another show, and, of course, try not to get himself killed (an important task, maybe the most!) 

In the evenings, if he lasted that long, he’d make dinner, clean up after himself (again), and maybe have a bath to balm his new wounds, before going to bed.

Then the cycle would start all over again for the rest of time, forever.

Often what people didn’t tell those who were getting rehabilitated after a long duration of captivity, was just how difficult life was suddenly going to get for them.

After the period of attention-heavy coddling, even captives had to engage in the real world again, and many cracked under the pressure of just how hard being a person could be,

Captivity was, unfortunately, very easy for someone like Ren, despite the ever-present danger that threatened him for what felt like every minute of the day. 

It was stable. It was routine. It was monotonous. 

And though he was smart enough to know that this wasn't what a life should be, living like a caged animal, too scared to make even one mistake lest he be punished for it within an inch of his life, there was a certain comfort to knowing exactly what he was going to do, every day, for the rest of his life.

Hence, his irritation when a new toy had come in and fucked all of that up.

And hence why he was currently staring at his computer screen, some monotonous, cloying, fan-servicey type livestream happening in the background of his brooding, instead of making dinner for the evening like he usually did, all because she had so generously offered to do it in his stead.

He seethed silently to himself as he shoved off his headphones with a huff, the smell of sticky brown sauce and tofu making his nose twitch, potent even from all the way downstairs. 

She was probably burning it, which just made him even angrier.

This was just about the chores, he told himself, his tail idly swaying with irritation (enough to make his computer chair spin to and fro). This was about the disruption to his routine throwing him out of wack and disorientating him, it was just that.

His anger surely had nothing to do with the beaming smile Strade would give her whenever she presented the shitty dinner she had made to him, reminding Ren of a husband and a new (inexperienced) wife, or the way he would pet her hair all the while as he ate, or even the way he would compliment her cooking (while he was sitting right there), commenting that she should make dinner more often, because "Ren's got a routine about his cooking" and he’d grown bored of it.

It was nothing to do with that, surely.

No way. 

"Ren," She said brightly, jolting him out of his thoughts and pulling any lingering attention he might have had on the livestream away, as she poked her head around the door frame with a beaming smile, always sunshine and roses. "Dinner's ready!"

“Mmf,”

He didn’t respond immediately, at least not properly, his ears twitching irritably as he set his headphones on his desk, turning menacingly (or an attempt of menace, at least) in his computer chair and glaring at her for what felt like a solid thirty seconds of pregnant silence. 

“What was that?” He asked, feigning ignorance.

“Um,” Her smile faltered slightly as she nudged the door open a little more. “I said dinner was ready. Black bean tofu and veggies.” She attempted another smile. “I’ve been at it all afternoon.”

Because you’re a lousy cook, he wanted to say, but he bit his lip to stop himself.

He knew he should have probably said something at least vaguely kind and grateful; a "thank you" or a "good work" or something like that. He knew that he should have attempted to express a least an approximation of sincere gratitude towards her effort, knew that because he had been conditioned into it. 

But a knot in his stomach stopped him from feeling anything even close to gratitude, replaced by a curling spiral of…something else he couldn’t (wouldn’t) name.

"You didn’t need to come up here and tell me.” He eventually said as flatly as possible, turning back to his screen. “I’m not hungry.”

"Are you sure?" She asked, tilting her head thoughtfully with a little pout, her long hair running down her shoulders and covering her full chest. "I got a recipe from one of your cookbooks. It's Japanese, special for you!"

Special for him?

He stiffened slightly against the tall back of his chair, before turning to give her a suspicious, sideways glance. 

Cast half in the bright light of the hallway, and half by the LED strips that covered his desk and the walls of his bedroom, she looked…well, pretty good, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. 

Dressed in a tight, milk-maid-like dress that hugged her body in several flattering ways, the neckline also cutting low enough to accentuate the smooth, pale plains of her chest, it was…sort of no wonder Strade had developed such a fondness for her in such little time.

He could only imagine what she might have looked like, begging and pleading for his mercy, her pale skin streaked with blood, her full lips open and gasping and crying. 

“I said I’m not hungry.” He repeated, turning back to his computer to hide his wandering eyes and the pinkish hue of his cheeks. "And...I mean, it IS kind of presumptuous that you think I'd want to eat it anyway, just because it's Japanese. Super rude of you, actually. You should ask what I want first, if you’re gonna do that."

"Mm, y-yeah, fine, I guess so." She finally stepped inside his room (without his asking to), making him turn back to look at her again with an annoyed glare. Her cheeks were slightly pink with embarrassment and her hands were clasped tont of her, fingers twitching in their entanglement. "You don't have to be an asshole, though, you know. I'm just trying to be nice..."

Nobody asked you to." He retorted sharply, crossing his arms over his chest with a childish huff. "I don’t need you to pretend to be all nice and caring, and…and motherly all of a sudden for whatever reason. Just stop.” He huffed again, his gaze flitting to the side. “I don’t find it cute, so don’t bother with that crap around me."

She stood back towards the closed door of his bedroom, her body straightening out, ridding itself of any pretence of embarrassment or bashfulness in her posture, with a little scoff and another pout, putting her hands on her hips.

Never beating the motherly allegations, it seemed.

"I'm not pretending, I just made dinner and wanted to include you,” She complained with a sharp look. “A-and motherly, what is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed and spun his computer chair to face her fully, and for a split second, he almost found her indignant pout endearing and soft of cute, almost enough to drop the whole thing and leave her alone to enjoy the dinner she had made special for him.

Just almost, though.

"Of course, you’re pretending," He snapped, rolling his eyes, his tail idly swaying again. "What, am I supposed to believe that you would normally act like some simpering housewife, making dinners and cleaning and wearing a pretty dress, if you weren’t trying to get Strade to like you? It’s all fake. You’re fake” 

He laughed and shook his head. 

"You like to act like you're sooo much better than me, don't you? Well, I can see through your bullshit act, so it’s not going to work on me. Get it?"

Her eyes widened slightly as he ranted to her, and she let out another scoff when he was finished, breathing out an aggravated laugh with a sardonic smirk.

"Are you kidding? That's the reason you're pissed off at me?" She crossed her arms, the weight of her full chest pooling over them, showing them off even more. "Because Strade is leaving you alone? Because you actually get to have a night by yourself instead of entertaining your fucking kidnapper so he doesn’t kill you when he’s bored?"

"No, that's not why I'm pissed at you, idiot." He jabbed back quickly, his tail lashing behind him as he sat forward in his seat. "I'm pissed off at you because your fake bullshit has been interrupting me all week. You keep going around the house,” He gestured widely with his hands, putting on a simpering tone. “Looking all cute and sweet and trying to act like some sort of housewife. What are you, Strade’s lapdog? Or are you just trying to suck up to him so you can get rewarded for being a good girl?"

She bristled at that, a scowl darkening her pretty features.

"Excuse me for having some semblance of a survival instinct.” She barked back. “Are you really so jealous that you'd create these bullshit excuses for yourself, Ren? Maybe you should be grateful that I’m not just leaving you to fend for yourself, that’s what someone else would do-"

"Survival instinct?! You don't understand anything!” He immediately shouted back, almost cutting her off as he thrust his hands against his chest. “How about you try feeling the way I do, try feeling like you've been cast off for the shiny new toy!  Tell me how fucking grateful you'd feel after that!"

She grinned smugly, looking almost triumphant that she'd gotten a reaction from him.

Maybe she wasn’t as sweet as he’d first assumed.

"You're pathetic, you know that?” She said, narrowing her eyes towards him, her tone cutting and sharp. “You're like a little kid, fighting for Daddy's attention."

That comment almost stopped him in his tracks, making him feel, instantly, like he had been punched in the face with a combination of rage, jealousy and despicable lust.

It was so absurd, so out of nowhere and yet so painfully on target that it made a furious blush spread across his face.

"Fuck you-" He murmured through grit teeth, his hands curling against the pockets of his joggers.

"Is that what he is to you, Ren?" She asked him with a mocking pout. "Is he your daddy?"

"You…" He stood up from his computer chair abruptly (enough to push it back against his desk), his tail whipping behind him furiously. "You don't, y-you’re one to talk! You’re the one who keeps sucking up to him, l-like you're soooo happy,” He gritted his teeth, his cheeks flushing darker as he tried to put some kind of authority to his voice. “T-To have Strade’s attention that you'll do whatever he wants, like you like being his whore or something!”

“I’m not his fucking whore!” She yelled back at him, almost at a breaking point of her own. 

“Then stop acting like one!” He hissed.

"Why don't you go suck Daddy's cock,” She bit back, her voice louder than it had been before (and surely loud enough for anyone downstairs to hear too). “If you're so fucking desperate for it?!"

“Shut up!”

Overcome by his animal instincts (to kill, bite, maim, hurt, whatever he needed to do to win), he practically leapt forward, his vision red with anger, and grabbed her by the wrists, digging his claws deep into her skin as he pushed her backwards against the closed bedroom door, each body wrestling to overpower the other.

“Ngh!” She cried out loudly, trying to yank back from his grip, making his claws dig in deeper, as if he had already tethered himself to her. “G-Get off me!”

When he was this close, barely inches from her face as spittle sprayed across his cheeks, all while she shouted and screamed with primal annoyance, he could see each wrinkle and twist in her furious expression, and he was suddenly compelled to hit her, take her by the shoulders and bash her head into the door, the wall, until there was nothing left to be angry at. 

He couldn’t help it, he told himself amid his rage. 

The prospect of slapping that taunting, insolent expression off her face and replacing it with something more appealing, something that better suited her pretty face, something red and bloody and meaty, was just…too compelling

“Shut up, you goddamn moron.”

He pressed himself against her as she kept trying to fight him off of her, using his (minute) weight to keep her pinned against the door, his tail lashing and his teeth bared.

“Stop talking crap like you know fucking anything about me,” He hissed, feeling his annoyance grow even more as she kept fighting and wriggling underneath him. “As though you’re so much better. Shut. Up.”

She kept on writhing against him all the while, her full hips occasionally colliding with his, little whimpers falling from her lips like a pinned animal. 

All of that (unfortunately) got his blood pumping like mad, the constant stimulation against his growing arousal, as well as the primal excitement of holding a squirming body still for a change (rather than being the one who was squirming), and he had to resist the urge to shudder and moan, feeling his skin prickle and his tail twitch as he pressed his body up against hers further, their hips aligned wonderfully.

He was aware, too, of the way her full chest (practically spilling out of her dress) was pushed against his, and the way he was forcing her to crane her neck back so she could even look at him.

It made him feel good.

It made him feel powerful. And he so rarely got to feel anything even close to that.

"You wanna play 'house', huh? Is that it?" He murmured as he pressed closer, forcing their faces together and growling into her cheek, before sliding a knee between her thighs and hiking it upwards, forcing her thighs to part. "Alright, if Strade is 'daddy', I guess that makes us 'brother and sister', doesn't it?"

Her eyes widened slightly at his growled words, stunned into near stillness before her expression twisted into one of shocked disgust and she kept squirming erratically underneath his body, especially so when his hips went forward, rubbing the beginnings of his erection against her thigh.

"Get the fuck off me!” She shrieked, shaking her head to shove him away.

“Ah-ah!”

He let out a mean laugh and grabbed her by the jaw then, his claws digging into her skin as he forced her to look at him, to see his golden eyes, sparkling with mirth, and know what he wanted from her. Her cheeks were flushed with furious humiliation, and her full lips were parted and wet with sprayed spittle, and his stomach felt like it was in knots from the effort of trying to control himself. 

“You were the one who fucked around with me, you little brat,” He said, his voice almost a low growl, as his snarling lips grew into a smirk, his knee going up higher and nudging at the front of her panties. "Oh, now you're fighting me because you don't want to play anymore? Is that it?"

"Don't touch me, you freak!" She protested again, crying out when his claws sank deeper into her wrists and the meat of her cheek, as sharp as a needle in a pin cushion, droplets of blood streaming out and beading around his fingertips. “You’re, ngh, you’re just as bad as he is!”

Was that an insult or a compliment? Depended on the day, he guessed.

“HAH! Am I?” He keened forward on his tiptoes then, so they were face to face, as close they could get, and he could feel her panicked breaths ghost over his face, warming it up even more than it was already. “I’ll show you how bad I can be, hm?” 

He hated her. He knew that much, at this point.

So why...why did seeing her pinned, wriggling, crying underneath him make his blood feel like it was roaring in his veins, like it had never done before?

Something something, there is an awful lot of love in hate.

Or, certainly, an awful lot of lust.

"Ohhh, little sister doesn't want to play anymore?” He taunted, lowering his voice to a cloying coo. “She wants to stay perfect and untouched for Daddy, doesn't she?" He then added sharply, as if he felt truly scorned, his breath growing faster as adrenaline and anger and hot arousal started to boil over and he rutted against her thigh even more, even faster. "Maybe he likes you so much because you'll play the whore, though, cus you'll play mommy for him."

"Nghhh, fuck," She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip as he rocked into her. “I’m not a fucking whore-”

“Mm, I think you are,” He continued to taunt, one hand sinking from her jaw (leaving behind bloody gouges on her skin) to hungrily pull open the ties of her dress, the fabric unfolding and revealing more of her pale chest, heaving and spilling out of the tight cotton. "Your tits are big enough to be mommy, anyway, a little too big to be a cute, little sister.”

"You've got a dirty, nh!" She flinched as he tore more of the dress, retrieving a scrap from the front (making it unwearable, in the future) to bind her wrists together in a messy knot, before hooking them above her head on a jacket peg. "A-A dirty mouth, Ren..."

“And you’ve got a dirty mind,” He replied smugly with a big grin, his tail idly wagging as he leisurely paced to the side and opened the top drawer of his desk, retrieving a set of bullet vibrators and a roll of athletic tape.

Finally, he was getting the chance to do this.

It had been a long time coming, he thought with a smirk, looking back at her. And who knew when he’d get this chance again?

Best to make the most of it now.

“Did Daddy get this for you, little sis?” He asked as he paced back towards her with a lazy saunter, tauntingly toying with the flaps of cotton fabric with one of his bloody claws. “Or did you ask for it, because you like showing yourself off for him, hm?~”

"I'm not your fucking sister, you pervert," She growled with a venomous look in her eyes, trying to pull at the cotton sash binding her, though her effort was evidently in vain when she let out a pained hiss, the cotton rubbing painfully against the dots of blood marring her wrists. “That’s sick.”

“Oh, but you said it yourself, didn’t you?” He asked with an innocent tone to his voice, tugging the dress’ fabric down even more so that her nipples were revealed, swelling with involuntary arousal, ripe and delicious and waiting for him. “You can’t take it back now. You’ve let me think about it for too long, now.”

He hummed casually as he positioned the first bullet against her nipple and taped it in place with strips of tape, biting off each one as they lay flat on her breast, idly licking his lips as he did so.

"What’re you doing?” She asked with a confused look towards her now adorned chest, before her eyes went back to his, her brows knitting together with concern. 

“Don’t worry about it,” He smirked, positioning the second bullet across her other nipple and taping that in place too. “We’re just playing, aren’t we, sis? It’s nothing that serious.”

“W-We’re not,” She started, catching herself stammering and swallowing uncomfortably as her bound wrists rolled together again. “We’re not playing. I don’t want to play.”

“Mm, and I didn’t want you bothering me all night,” He replied airily, hiking up the skirt of her dress and revealing a sensible pair of panties. Figures, Strade never cared about important things like aesthetics. That was his job, he supposed. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”

He then pressed his thumb against the front of her panties, his smirk widening into a (sort of) genuine smile when he found a slightly damp spot. 

“Or, heh, maybe you are getting exactly what you want,” He suggested, leaning into her with a lecherous smile, his tail swaying as he slid the last bullet into her panties, nestled against where she was most sensitive (and he guessed as much, from the way she immediately flinched and whimpered as he tried to adjust it into the perfect place). “And you’re lying to me. What a naughty little sister I have, hah~”

“I’m not-NGH!”

He turned all three vibrators on with the click of a button, and her eyes almost instantly bulged out of her skull, overwhelmed by the buzzing sensation, and her expression only got more exaggerated and hot as he slid the vibrators’ motor up another notch, giving her even more to focus on.

“You’re noooot?” He drawled with a teasing grin, pressing close to her again as she moaned mindlessly, squeezing her eyes shut to try and contain the amount of pleasure she was being forced to feel. “You’re not lying, you’re not enjoying this, or…” 

He turned the vibrators up another notch, hearing another loud, pained moan from her parted lips.

“You’re not my little sister, hm? Which is it?”

“Nnfff, Rennnn,” She murmured pleadingly, her thighs pressing together tightly and trembling, struggling to hold her body upright, as she stared towards him, any previous venom in her gaze and tone long absent. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for whatever I did. But, hah, please,” She whimpered again, eyes clenched shut again as another wave of white-hot pleasure hit her hard. “T-This is too much, way too much, nhh!”

“Oh, so, now you’re wanting to be good?” He asked with the same cloying tone as before, nuzzling against the crook of her neck, against her cheek, scenting her, his twitching ears grazing her temple and making him shiver. “You’ve seen what happens when you’re bad, and now you want to be a good girl for me, like you are with Daddy, hm?”

“Yesss,” She drawled, doing her best to look towards him and acclimate to what he wanted of her. “Yes, yes, I’ll be good, please just stop-”

“Tell you what…” He started, turning the vibrators up another notch and listening to her cry out with another big smile, running his tongue over his teeth. “Address me properly and maybe I’ll think about going easy on you. What do you think about that, hm?”

“H-Hah,” 

She breathed out, her bound hands curling into tight fists above her as she closed her eyes with a tight, grimacing expression, clearly not thrilled by what she was about to say, but…willing to do it for what she needed. 

“P-Please…big brother,” He lip twitched with slight discomfort. “Please turn your toys off…I promise, I’ll be a good sister from now on, I won’t bother you ever again, I promise.”

“Oh, that’s really good, little sis,” He mumbled his tone sweet with praise as he pressed a wet kiss against her cheek. “Sounds almost like you practised it, just for me. Mm, Daddy did well with you, didn’t he? He’s training you to be a good, little whore…”

“Ngh,” Her head sank against her heaving chest, her breathing hard. “Please, please, please…please stop, now, please?”

“Mm…too bad.”

He then slid the motor up to the highest setting he could, the incessant buzzing of the triplet bullets almost drowning out the wonderful sound of her pained cries and whines.

Almost.

“FUUUCK!” She cried out like she was experiencing something close to true agony, gritting her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut and opening wide over and over again, fluttering, like a broken baby doll, while her wet mouth gaped and drooled, unable to stop herself. “FUCK, STOP, PLEASE!”

This was truly too perfect.

Someone was actually experiencing (at least a close approximation of) true pain in front of him. They were writhing, crying, bleeding, and begging him for mercy (that they wouldn’t find) and for him to let them go, and whatever they had to do, they’d do, just for a chance at freedom.

She was in a position he had been in countless times before, all because of him.

He’d never been more turned on.

His shaking hand quickly sank to the front of his joggers, urgently untying the toggle before peeling them down and revealing his hard, leaking cock, the knot throbbing hungrily at the base, waiting for something warm to fuck and sink into, like he was sliding into an unknowable home.

"Fuck, you deserve this.” He breathed hard through his gritted teeth, working his hand up and down the length of it as he pressed closer against her, panting against her already hot skin, probably making her feel that much more uncomfortable. “It's what you get for getting on my nerves. Now, hah,” 

He squeezed the head of his cock hard, a pearl of pre-cum smearing against her naked thighs (scarred, just like his were, cut from the same cloth, a creation of the same master, embodying the same trauma, as much as he despised it). 

“N-Now you're going to be all ruined and fucked up, and Daddy is going to go back to loving me even more…hah,” His head tilted forward against her shoulder, breathing harder as he worked himself up even more. “That’s all I want…e-everything I want, mm-”

He knew that probably wasn’t likely.

He knew that anything he could have done to a new toy wouldn’t have ruined her for Strade in the slightest.

If anything, it might have made him like her even more.

But it felt good to say, all the same.

"Maybe you won't be a sister or a mommy anymore.” He whispered into her skin as she kept crying out for mercy, her jaw tense and her eyes wide and staring right ahead of her, thousands of miles away. “M-Maybe you'll just be some dumb dog that sleeps outside and pisses with her leg up, and...nhh..."

He squeezed another dribble of pre-cum across her skin, before reaching up to grope and paw at one of her breasts.

"Fuck, sis, that's so good,” He gasped, as a wave of white-hot pleasure hit him all at once. The full weight and size of her breast made it even more fun to handle and play with, which in turn just made him feel that much more aroused.  “Mm...if I didn’t think it’d get me killed, I’d have fucked you by now, without a care in the world…mm.” 

She moaned brainlessly again, her head sinking against her thick, metal collar, bucking mindlessly against nothing as she was pushed closer and closer to her breaking point.

“Nnhh, that’s okay though~” He breathed out with a wheezing little titter, running his tongue over his fangs before pressing another kiss to her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck and her jaw. “It’ll feel good knowing you’re losing your mind because of me anyway…even if I can’t fuck you yet.”

“Nghh, please,” She drawled with a shaking exhale, pleading, soft thighs clenched together as she sank against her binds, the ratty cotton seemingly the only thing keeping her upright. “Please, fuck me, I want you to-”

“Ohoho, how she changes her tune now,” Ren laughed again, filled with unexpected energy to persist as he pulled back to really look at her, exhausted and empty of the protest she was full of before. “What, has my sweet little sister decided that she wants to play the whore all of a sudden? My my, we really aren’t ourselves when we want something, are we?”

“Ren, hah, big brother,” She squealed as he lowered his head to tongue at her breast, or, at least, what little of her areola he hadn’t covered with the tape. “Please, please, this feels like torture…”

“Oh, but it’s supposed to, sis,” He purred with an indulgent smile, nuzzling against her chest as his fist moved faster, up and down, his cock, his own arousal getting close to painful, he was so close. “Ngh, it’s supposed to be all fun for me, and torture for you. This is how things work around here, after all, don’t you know that?”

“Ghhhh, too much,” She whined, squeezing her eyes shut again, her head hitting the door as she tipped her head back. “Hurting, please, nhh…”

“Shhh, I know, baby,” Ren thencooed softly, his tail wagging at her needy tone as he peeled the athletic tape from her sore nipple and pulled the bullet aside, giving himself the full expanse of her nipple to tongue and taste as he pleased. “Just be good and I’ll try and make this bearable for you, kay?~”

“Stop, stop, hah!” Her eyes went wide again as she started to struggle. “Stop, ngh, t-that’s really sore!”

“You know I’m not going to do that,” He smiled teasingly, before slipping the now available bullet into her panties with the third one, only adding more to her torture and quickly making her shut up again. “Try to endure it, okay? I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“Nhhh,” She moaned helplessly, her eyes rolling back into her head (where they belonged, not looking at him, not seeing him), her mouth open and gasping and drooling.

“That’s it,” He praised with another smile, kissing her nipple again. “Much better.”

He indulgently ran the flat of his tongue over the ripe bud of her nipple as he kept fucking his fist, latching onto it like a babe and suckling eagerly, the taste and weight of her body against his pushing him, too, that much closer to the edge.

He was already so close, already there, when-

“MM-!”

Ren pulled back quickly, his eyes wide and his tongue between his teeth, when he spotted…

Was that milk? Oozing from her chest?

“You’re…lactating,” He pointed out, looking up towards her empty face (she was so lost, so far gone, so lovely to look at already) with a furrowed expression before a shaky smile crossed his face and he looked back down to where her nipple was still dribbling fluid. “Oh…hah, wow, that’s…um…”

His face was beet red and his cock was throbbing even more against his palm.

“Really, really fucking hot.”

He closed the temporary gap between the two of them quickly, suckling again at her nipple and moaning as another gush of fluid shot across his tongue, sweet and fatty and so delicious, he thought he was going to go crazy.

“G-God, I guess you really are Mommy, huh?” He murmured shakily, licking his lips (licking his fangs while he was at it) as he desperately lapped up any of the remaining drops that ran down her breast. “Mm, that’s okay, though. You’re still my sweet little sister, even if you are getting too big for it, nnhHH!”

His mouth went back to suck her nipple again, jerking himself off so roughly (so much so, her breast muffled actual whimpers) that it was starting to hurt, his cockhead sore and red and weeping with beads of pre-cum now, he was that close to climax and so desperate for release.

Another spurt of breast milk crossed his tongue, which he swallowed eagerly with another whimper, his lids fluttering and his legs trembling from the exertion of holding himself upright.

He was so close, everything about this was perfect, it was all perfect, He was so close, he was almost there, he was-!

“Are you two coming down for dinner or what?! I don’t want to be kept waiting~”