#trying to seduce len

[yannawayne]

If I can't have you baby, no one else in this world can!

SYNOPSIS: The Batboys & Cass at their most unhinged, most protective, and most devoted. TAGS: FEMALE Reader! Fluff! Jealousy! Fake Marriage, Mild possessive behavior, Mild innuendo / suggestive banter, Mentions of weapons/violence + Older! Of-Age! Damian NOTE: Don’t take the content or characterizations too seriously! It’s literally just a goofy, for-fun fic :ppp AO3: yenwayne Ko-Fi: buy me a coffee!

જ⁀➴ RICHARD GRAYSON

“I hate these missions,” came Dick’s voice, petulant and immediate in your earpiece.

You didn’t pause. Instead, you stepped delicately around a marble column, your heels tapping rhythmically across the ballroom floor. Your dress shimmered with every movement, a slinky midnight blue number that hugged your form like it had been stitched by jealous gods. Your fingers grazed the low curve of your hip, pretending to adjust the fabric, when in reality you were activating the mic hidden beneath a faux diamond brooch.

“Nightwing,” you said calmly, smiling at a champagne server as they approached. You took a glass with a graceful nod, flipping your hair over your shoulder with casual elegance. “We’re at a gala. There are hors d'oeuvres and a string quartet. Try not to combust.”

“I am combusting,” he muttered, like he was personally being subjected to torture. “You’re pretending to be married to Barry Allen. That’s basically infidelity.”

“We fake-filed a fake tax return together like, five minutes ago,” you said dryly. “Relax.”

Dick huffed—huffed—and you could practically see him brooding on some rooftop, arms crossed like a bat-gargoyle. “I just think I, your actual husband, should be there.”

You let out a quiet sigh, walking toward the ornate staircase where Barry stood chatting up a senator. You could already see the knowing glint in his eye as he spotted you, lifting his glass like a man trying too hard to appear casual.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath, smiling sweetly as you closed the distance. “You are literally in my ear. You’re more present than Barry is right now, and he's the one touching me.”

“What?!”

You glanced sideways at Barry. He shifted, his palm resting in the safe, polite territory of your lower back as he leaned in to whisper something to the senator. “Arm, Dick. It’s just an arm. We’re blending in. No need to send in the Batjet.”

“I swear to god if he tries the forehead kiss thing—”

You blinked. “What forehead kiss thing?”

“He does this thing,” Dick said, his voice a little breathless with outrage, “where he smiles all slow and soft and tilts his head, and he leans in like he’s gonna whisper something but instead he does this little forehead press like he’s in a rom-com. I hate it. That’s how he seduced Iris that one time!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a laugh, shifting your weight subtly as you allowed Barry to guide you toward the center of the room. The music shifted into a softer waltz.

“Pretty sure they were already dating when that happened.”

“Not the point. I should be the one fake-forehead-kissing you at fancy galas.”

You stepped past an older couple slow-dancing near the fountain centerpiece and turned, giving Barry a small apologetic smile as you pretended to be distracted by something in your clutch.

“Would that make you feel better?” you whispered.

“Immeasurably.”

You were about to respond when you caught the faintest flicker of movement overhead. The security camera nearest you pivoted. Just slightly. Just enough.

Your smile vanished.

“Did you just hijack the camera feed to watch me?”

Silence.

“Dick.”

“…No?”

“Dick.”

“Camera’s just doing its job.”

“You are the camera.”

There was a beat of long, silent guilt on the line.

“It’s a security sweep,” he finally muttered, defensive. “Totally standard.”

You turned and stared directly up at the rotating lens, narrowing your eyes. “You’re pouting, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, full pout in his voice.

You glared at the camera, already knowing the exact pout he was pulling behind the cowl. Barry chuckled beside you, still in his gala-husband role. You looped your arm through his and leaned in with a soft smile, playing along for the watching donors. Wealth glittered across the ballroom. Pearls, tuxedos, and dresses worth more than a small country’s GDP.

And then Dick dropped the line.

“You just had to wear that gown, didn’t you?”

Your eyebrows twitched.

“It’s a dress.”

“It’s a crime scene, actually.”

You nearly snorted champagne up your nose. “Are you okay? Do you need to go punch a mugger and walk it off?”

“You don’t understand,” he hissed. “There are at least six guys pretending not to stare at you right now. One of them dropped a canapé. I watched it happen. I’m seconds from pulling the fire alarm.”

You hummed in amusement and tilted your head, letting the chandelier light catch the sheen of your lashes.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You swirled the champagne in your glass, then took a slow, knowing sip, the bubbles tickling your lips as you smirked. “Are you gonna rappel in through the ceiling and punch Barry in the face mid-waltz?”

He didn’t answer immediately. And that was the worst part.

“…Maybe.”

You laughed under your breath, drawing curious eyes from across the floor. “You are the most dramatic man I’ve ever married.”

“I’m the only man you’ve ever married!”

“For now,” you teased.

Dead. Air.

You could feel it through the silence. The precise moment Dick’s jaw clenched, the way his hands probably curled into fists on some high-rise ledge. You almost felt sorry for the next criminal who looked at him funny.

“Sweetheart,” he said finally, voice dropping into that dangerous purr he only used when he was 70% teasing and 30% ready to commit felony assault. “If Barry so much as breathes too close to you, I’m driving over there and disguising myself as a waiter just to strangle him with a linen napkin.”

You giggled again, covering it with the rim of your glass and a quick flutter of lashes.

“Relax. You’re still my real husband.”

“I should hope so. I signed that marriage license in blood.”

“You pricked your finger opening the envelope.”

“It still counts.”

જ⁀➴ JASON TODD

The dim light of the bookstore warmed the space, the faint scent of old paper mixing with the musky air of Gotham’s streets. It was the perfect Saturday afternoon. You and Jason had been to this little corner bookstore a few times, tucked away near the flat you shared, where no one bothered you, just the way you liked it.

Today, the place had a sale. And you were taking full advantage. Because, books.

You bent slightly, pulling another book off the shelf. Your fingers lingered on the spine, the title catching your eye, but your gaze drifted briefly to Jason beside you.

He was holding a stack of books you'd already picked up, his strong arms braced beneath the weight. His other hand was occupied, casually flipping through the pages of a suspense novel. His worn-out motorcycle helmet hung off his elbow, the strap digging into his skin like it always did when he wasn’t too concerned about making a spectacle of himself.

The sight of him in his usual attire, tight compression shirt, cargo pants, and those damn ratty boots, was almost enough to make you forget why you were even here. You couldn’t help it. Your husband, who exuded that rough, untamed charm that always made your heart skip a beat, even after everything.

You coughed, quickly pulling your focus back to the shelf, cheeks flushed. You weren’t here to ogle at him. You were here to buy books, to stock up for the upcoming winter nights in your cozy little flat.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him glance over at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he noticed the way you’d momentarily gotten lost in thought.

“You okay there, doll?” His voice was low, but that teasing drawl was there, practically sending your internal warning system into overload.

You snapped back to the shelf, cheeks now officially flushed. “Fine. Just… you know, checking out some new releases. That’s all.”

Jason took a step closer, his hand reaching out to adjust the stack of books he was holding, brushing against your side. You could feel his eyes on you, that damn teasing look in them. He knew.

"Uh-huh," he muttered, clearly amused.

You shot him a glare. “Stop being so obvious.” You grabbed a couple more books, pretending they were the most interesting thing in the store, while mentally trying to avoid imagining how good he looked in those pants.

The moment passed, and you made your way to the counter. But, of course, Jason insisted on carrying all the books for you, despite them weighing next to nothing. Which, really, wasn’t a huge shock. The man could bench press a car if he felt like it.

The cashier, a young guy in his twenties, greeted you with a friendly smile as he began scanning your newest babies.

“Oh, you read The Cruel Prince?” the cashier suddenly asked, lifting the book from your pile with excitement. “I’ve been dying to meet someone else who loves it.”

You couldn’t help but grin, excited to talk about one of your favorites. “Yes! It’s amazing. I love Jude as a character. She’s so strong, and the plot twists? Wild.”

The cashier, clearly eager to engage, leaned in slightly, his elbows resting casually on the counter. “I know, right? I just finished The Wicked King,” he said with a boyish laugh.

“I’m almost done with The Queen of Nothing now.” His eyes flicked up, lingering a moment too long on your face. “You into high fantasy like this, or was it just a one-time thing? ‘Cause if you’re looking for recs… I’ve got a few I think you’d really love.”

You smiled, delighted by the conversation. “Oh, I’m always open to fantasy suggestions. I love character-driven stuff with sharp worldbuilding.”

Completely absorbed, you missed the way the cashier’s eyes dipped briefly down your frame before flicking back up to meet yours. "Lucky for me, you stopped by today.”

Jason, who had been standing just behind you, tensed. Subtly, he stepped closer, the warmth of his body brushing your back as he shifted the weight of the books in his arms. His free hand settled on your waist, low and firm.

It was casual, at least outwardly, but there was nothing casual about the way his fingers flexed slightly against your coat.

The cashier, oblivious or ignoring the shift in energy, handed you the receipt, gaze still lingering. “Seriously, though. A doll like you geeking out over The Cruel Prince? That’s rare. Real rare. Kinda makes a guy believe in fate.”

Jason’s voice cut through the moment, cold enough to make the air around you drop a few degrees. “Yeah,” he said, eyes locked onto the cashier’s now, unreadable but intense. “She’s one of a kind.”

The cashier blinked, clearly feeling the shift, but tried to laugh it off. “Right, of course. I’ll, uh, finish ringing this up.”

Jason didn’t move, didn’t blink. “You do that.”

A moment later, the books were bagged, and the cashier’s enthusiasm had visibly dimmed. He offered a half-hearted smile, handing you the bag. “Enjoy your books.”

Jason took it before you could, his hand brushing against yours as he did. “We will.”

You followed Jason out of the store, blinking at the sudden rush of cold Gotham air. You were about to say something when you caught the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes stayed forward.

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Jealous?”

He scoffed, but didn’t deny it. “Nah. Just making sure it’s clear. You’re mine.”

You slipped your arm through his. “Always.”

જ⁀➴ TIM DRAKE

“Hi, Timmy Junior,” you crooned, crouching low to the penthouse floor with a dramatic sweep of your coat as it slipped from your shoulders. Your fingers found the cat’s chin, scritching gently beneath the plush fur.

The feline let out a noise of pure bliss, an undignified grrrrrr-rup purr as he leaned his entire ridiculous body weight into your hand.

“You’re so spoiled,” you whispered like a secret, ruffling his ears. “Where’s your dad, huh? Inventing new molecules? Hacking the Pentagon again?”

You padded deeper into the apartment, your heels left by the door, your coat sliding neatly onto the rack with one smooth toss. The air inside was warm and low-lit, cast in that signature honey-gold glow Tim always adjusted for you when you worked late at the hospital. Cozy, inviting. The kind of lighting that lured you toward rest like gravity.

Your gaze landed on him instantly. Folded up on the couch in a soft Gotham U hoodie and well-worn sweatpants, socked feet tucked beneath him, glowing laptop balanced on his knees.

The blue light framed his face like a crime scene photograph. His fingers flew across the keys, precise, fast, controlled. His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched just slightly, like whatever he was typing deserved war.

You didn’t say a word.

Instead, you launched yourself forward like a sleepy jungle cat and collapsed into his lap, head-first, limbs folding as you burrowed in like you belonged there. Because you did.

Tim paused, but only for a second. Then one arm wrapped around your waist, locking you into place as his other hand resumed its furious typing like your sudden weight had simply activated some comforting subroutine. Like muscle memory. Like ritual.

“You’re late,” he murmured, finally meeting your eyes with that gentle, tired smile you’d always been weak for.

“Code blue,” you mumbled, curling tighter into his hoodie. “And two separate idiots who thought knife fights belonged in the ER lobby.”

He hummed low and familiar. “Gotham.”

You exhaled slowly, melting into him. The scent of him wrapped around you—green tea, clean soap, and ozone, like he hadn’t moved from this couch in hours. The safest smell in the world.

But something… tugged.

You felt it now. His body didn’t soften the way it usually did when you came home. His hold was there, but too controlled. The tension in his shoulders hadn’t gone away. He hadn’t kissed your forehead.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

Tim’s lips parted like he wanted to deny it, but instead, he let out a breath that deflated his whole chest. “It’s nothing,” he said, almost too fast. “Just… internet drama. Dumb stuff.”

“About work?” you asked, brows raising.

“No,” he said after a beat, tone shifting. “About us.”

You stilled.

Tim blinked at you, then sighed. “You did an interview with Vicky Vale today?”

You blinked again, slower this time. “…Yesh,” you mumbled into his neck. “She was a nightmare in heels, but Bruce said something something ‘positive press,’ ‘curated coverage,’ PR speak, blah blah—”

“Right,” Tim cut in, nodding slowly. Too slowly. “And in that very public interview, broadcast to half of Gotham… you said Nightwing was your favorite vigilante.”

Silence.

You shifted.

“I stand by my words.”

He gasped in faux betrayal and grabbed your hand, holding it up like a piece of evidence. The diamond on your engagement ring caught the light dramatically.

“This is a literal rock,” he said, dead serious. “A shiny, cut-from-the-mountain, six-years-of-our-life-together rock. And that,” he gestured vaguely in the air, “is slander.”

You bit back a grin as he continued, spiraling.

“…Treason, even,” Tim added dramatically, eyes wide with mock hurt. “I should call Bruce. Or the League. Or Alfred. Someone’s has got to arrest you.”

You covered your mouth to stop the laugh threatening to bubble out. “You’re going to tattle on me to Alfred?”

“Damn right I am. He likes me best. He’ll understand.” He pointed a finger accusingly. “And you—you—are officially banned from Titans reruns, YouTube edits, and any content where Nightwing is in leather and doing that thing with his sticks.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “What thing with his sticks?”

Tim looked personally wounded. “You know what thing. The twirly thing! The one with the hip pivot.”

You smirked, throwing your arms around him like a blanket. “Hm. But you're still my favorite fiancé.”

He scowled into your hair. “Not good enough. I want it in writing. Signed affidavit. Notarized.”

“Fine,” you deadpanned. “I, under oath, declare Timothy Jackson Drake to have the second-best butt in Gotham.”

Tim pulled back sharply. “Second?!”

“Best fiancé,” you corrected with a squeal, kicking as he launched a tickle assault. “Best fiancé! Tim! Stop! I swear to—!”

He kept going, merciless and grinning, until you both dissolved into laughter and flailing limbs on the couch. Tim finally flopped beside you, chest heaving, arms still tangled around you.

You were still breathless, clutching your stomach, when he murmured:

“…Still should’ve been first-best butt.”

You reached over and kissed his nose. “You’re number one in my heart.”

“And in Alfred’s rankings.”

“Exactly.”

જ⁀➴ DAMIAN WAYNE

The wind bit at your exposed skin, Gotham’s chill cutting through every crack in your suit, making you shiver despite your best efforts to hide it. You tried to pull the oversized cape tighter around your shoulders, Damian’s cape, and flicked it dramatically, hoping for a bit of extra warmth. It made you feel a little ridiculous, but god, it was warm.

You glanced sideways at Damian, the stone wall of a man beside you, not even acknowledging the cold as he stared down at the street below, his jaw set and his posture as rigid as a statue.

You raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’m freezing my ass off in your oversized cape, and you’re standing there like a stone wall, making me look like a damsel in distress.”

Damian flicked a glance at you, his lips barely twitching into a smirk. "You do look ridiculous."

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the cape again. It really did swallow you whole. You felt like an overgrown child in a giant’s cloak.

"Well, at least I’m warm," you muttered, "unlike some people."

“Tt. I’m fine, beloved,” he said, but there was a little something extra when he said beloved.

Something warm. Something intense. And despite the cold, your heart did a little leap.

Sexy stone statue, you grumbled to yourself. You were so not above it.

The night air crackled with tension for a moment before Damian broke the silence. “Something’s off. Stay close.”

You straightened, your body on high alert, instinctively leaning closer to him. You followed his gaze toward the flickering lights…A bank alarm.

The unmistakable shriek of Gotham’s most wanted sound—bank robbery.

“Trouble,” you said, giddy with the thrill.

“Indeed,” Damian replied, voice low and dangerous. Before you could respond, he vanished into the night, melting into the shadows.

“Show-off,” you muttered, launching a web and following him across the rooftops.

You landed beside him, crouched above a black van outside the bank. Thugs were unloading duffle bags—money and cologne, Gotham’s finest.

“Someone’s making a withdrawal,” you whispered.

“Then let’s make sure they don’t get too comfortable,” Damian muttered. With a single flick of his wrist, a Batarang flew out, slicing through the air and knocking one of the thieves out.

“Smooth,” you swooned, eyes wide with admiration. “Hey, this might be the best date night we’ve had all month.”

“Tch. I prefer less… crowded dates,” Damian shot back, already taking down another guy with a fluid motion that made it look effortless.

Fast. Precise. Unfairly hot.

You couldn’t help but grin, heart racing as you jumped into the action, doing a flip over one of the thieves to disarm him mid-air. You were all set to land on your feet, ready to keep up the momentum, when suddenly, a shadow slammed into you from nowhere.

The impact knocked the wind from your lungs, sending you crashing into the rooftop with a grunt.

Damian’s head snapped your way, eyes dark, hand flying to his blade. Ready to kill.

"Wait!" you said, breathless, as you pushed yourself up and caught sight of the person on top of you.

"Black Cat?" you breathed, disbelief flooding your chest.

She grinned down at you, that too-familiar cocky smile spreading across her face.

"Hey, Spider," she said, pressing a hand down on your shoulders, keeping you pinned, her fingers firm and possessive. "Long time no swing. You look… deliciously out of breath."

Your brain short-circuited. "Holy shit. What are you doing in Gotham?"

Before she could answer, a shadow dropped hard beside you. Damian. Radiating absolute fury in a tight, concentrated glare.

“Get. Off.”

Two words. Ice-cold.

Black Cat didn’t flinch. In fact, her grin widened.

"Ooooh," she said, drawing out the syllable like she’d just tasted something expensive. “You must be new. You gotta get in line, cutie. Spider’s got fans, you know.”

“I am not a fan,” Damian snapped. “I am her partner.”

You sat up. “Aw.”

Damian flushed.

“In combat,” he added stiffly.

You winced. “Less aw.”

Black Cat howled. “Oh, this is so much better than I hoped. You got yourself a territorial one, huh?” She leaned in close to Damian, eyes twinkling. “Tell me, do you bite?”

“I don’t bite,” Damian said coldly.

“Oh?” she said with a smirk. “Shame.”

“I maim.”

“Well, you’re no fun,” Black Cat tsked, her hips swaying as she walked forward with that signature, cat-like confidence. “Relax, Bird Boy. Just saying hi to my favorite Spider.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Guys! Seriously? We are not doing this right now. We’re literally in the middle of a robbery!”

Black Cat flipped her hair over her shoulder, unfazed. “Handled it already, sweetheart. I snagged the bank’s security drive, webbed the goons to their getaway van, and took care of the heavy lifting before I jumped you. You’re welcome.”

“…You webbed—my web fluid?!” you gawked.

“Borrowed,” Black Cat said airily. “Don’t be stingy.”

“I made that with bio-polymers and blood, you kleptomaniac bat-licking menace—”

“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes. “I'm sure you can make another one of your web knick-knacks.”

Damian’s eyes flashed. “Those cartridges are proprietary.”

“Pro‑pri‑e‑tar‑y!” you echoed, stabbing a finger at her. “He means off-limits, you thieving furball!”

Black Cat rolled her shoulders, utterly unbothered. “I’ll return them. Hm… rented at a fair rate, of course. Maybe half a million an ounce?”

Damian growled low in his throat. “You—I'll—”

“Okay, okay, enough. Look. I’ll put them back before breakfast tomorrow, deal?” Black Cat offered, waggling her fingers like this was a brunch invitation and not felony-level theft.

You opened your mouth to protest because you absolutely did not agree to that, but it was too late. With a mock curtsy and a wicked glint in her eye, she vanished into the shadows, her laughter echoing like a warning shot.

You turned back to Damian, who stood tense, blade still in hand, every muscle in his jaw working overtime.

“I should have let her fall off the building,” he muttered.

You snorted. “You would never.”

“I could have accidentally loosened her grip.” He sheathed his sword with more force than necessary. “No one touches you like that. No one pins you but me.”

Your brows shot up. “So you do want to pin me—”

“Strategically,” he snapped.

“Strategically?" you purred, arms wrapping round his shoulders. "That’s what we’re calling rooftop makeouts now?”

“I—Tt—focus.” But Damian's hands settled at your waist anyway, traitorously warm. “We need to debrief. Secure the scene. Call in the GCPD. Recheck the vault—”

“Oh, Dames…”

જ⁀➴ CASSANDRA CAIN

You were no better than a man.

You were definitely not supposed to be staring. Or, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you tried to focus on the workout in front of you. But there was no way you could ignore Cassandra right now.

She was… perfect.

Her form was flawless as she moved through her calisthenics routine. Push-ups, pull-ups, even backflips! Nothing seemed to faze her. And here you were, struggling not to turn into a puddle of goo on the gym floor.

It wasn’t fair, honestly. How was one person allowed to be so hot? You were supposed to be stretching, but instead, you were completely fixated on your girlfriend, who was now hanging effortlessly from the pull-up bar.

She wasn’t even breaking a sweat. Meanwhile, you were sitting here pretending to stretch, but your eyes couldn’t stop following her every move. How could you not? She was making calisthenics look like some kind of sexy ballet, and you were feeling some type of way about it.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you barely heard the guy who suddenly sidled up to you. You looked up, confused, to see him standing a little too close.

"Hey, uh…" He cleared his throat, clearly trying to sound casual. "I noticed you were watching your friend there… I could totally show you how to lift weights, you know. Maybe even you."

You blinked at him, trying to suppress a laugh. Your brain was still stuck on your friend? Was that supposed to be his pick-up line?

“Uh… really?” you said, raising an eyebrow as you glanced back at Cassandra, still breezing through her workout like she was in some kind of fitness commercial. You could barely keep your mouth from hanging open.

"Yeah!" He puffed out his chest like he was some kind of Greek god. "I can handle lifting your body weight, no problem."

You blinked again. "Oh??"

"Yeah," he said with a cocky grin. "I can totally do it."

You crossed your arms, trying not to burst into laughter. “Okay, then. Show me.”

The guy dropped to his knees in front of you and looked up, ready to lift you. You tried to brace yourself, but honestly, you weren’t sure what was going to happen. This was either going to be impressive or a disaster, and you were pretty sure it was going to be the latter.

He grunted. Nothing.

You raised an eyebrow, watching as he struggled. His face was turning red, sweat starting to drip from his forehead, and—yeah, this was as bad as you expected. He couldn’t even get you an inch off the floor.

“Need help with that?” you asked, barely able to hold back the giggle bubbling up.

“No—no, I’ve got it!” he snapped, lifting harder, but the effort only made him wobble like a newborn giraffe.

"Maybe next time, huh?" you said with a sigh, holding back your amusement.

Then, just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Cassandra appeared. You didn’t even see her coming. One second, the guy was still struggling with the whole “lifting you” thing, and the next, Cassandra was casually stepping between the two of you. She looked at him like he was a bug she couldn’t be bothered with, then lifted you effortlessly with one hand.

You froze.

One hand.

The guy’s face drained of color as Cassandra set you down like you were a stuffed animal she was tossing back on the shelf. She didn’t even glance at him as she flicked her hair back, returning to her workout like nothing happened.

Meanwhile, the guy? He was just standing there. Shocked. Maybe a little bit scared. His mouth was moving, but no words came out.

Could not have imagined a more embarrassing moment for him…

Turning to Cassandra, your grin only widened. “Baby… you just broke his soul.”

Cassandra didn’t even glance your way. She simply raised an eyebrow, then shot you a small smile as she signed, He should have known better.

As you were about to respond, the guy finally seemed to snap out of his daze. He stammered something about ‘his form’ and ‘next time’ before practically sprinting off, likely rethinking every choice he’d made that led him to this moment.

You chuckled under your breath, eyes flicking back to Cassandra. “Well, looks like you just ruined his chances of ever lifting a girl again.”

Cassandra shrugged, clearly unfazed, and went back to her pull-up bar. Not my problem.

As she started packing her things, she shot you a sly smirk. Let’s go home. I’ll give you a workout of your own.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “That… sounds promising.”

And just like that, the gym, the only thing on your mind now was what your workout would look like tonight.

Goopyness... This was very fun to write!

My requests are open! Please...Uwu

[creatingblackcharacters]

wait sorry is epic specifically antiblack? was unsure what that meant (did vote julian anyway cause he deserves the win !)

I've explained this before! It's the entire purpose of this blog, right? To create your Black characters with intent. And that includes knowing what happens when you thoughtlessly characterize. You can cast race blind all you want, but no one is blind to the race of the character once they are chosen (thus, why there's a backlash every time a character people like is Black).

So if I take a character that is deemed sexually aggressive, sexually threatening, sexually desirable and yet not meant to be desirable at all onto the (anti-)heroic white leading man that is trying to get back to his narratively Good white wife, trying to seduce him away from his wife because she wants him... And I cast her as a dark skinned Black woman. And this sort of narrative has historically been used to oversexualize and sexually abuse Black women, to deem them as (hint!) Jezebels in comparison to Good Pure White Women... What have I written?

If I take a character that is a violent, sexually aggressive, predator whose goal is to defile the narratively heroic white woman who is trying to save her home and herself for her (anti-)heroic white husband returning home from battle... And this sort of narrative has historically been used to oversexualize and target Black men as (hint!) rapacious beasts worth subduing (and even killing) to protect the sanctity and safety of White Order... What have I written?

These are two of the oldest and most violent stereotypes that have been projected onto my people, that persist in how we are treated to this day. And my disgust and upset with that lack of consideration, especially in something everyone is supposed to enjoy, is part of why I do not want to consume that piece of media.

And even if they were written with nuance, I can say with full confidence that White Fandom will still happily view these characters through that biased lens because we live in a world that is still informed by those stereotypes (they'll do it with Black characters that AREN'T these things).

I'll pass. There's no level of entertainment I'll get out of it that is able to overcome my distaste at that part. I've been able to let certain things roll off to have a good time, but this isn't one that beckons enough for me to do that. I hope the people who enjoy it continue to enjoy it, though I'd at least appreciate it if they were aware, but. Oh well.

[mymegrokosmos]

Snapshot - another little Yugyeom Drabble because my brain is procrastinating again.

photographer reader x bf yugyeom. established relationship. implied smut and some flirting. mdni, 18+, mildly nsfw if you squint.

"kim yugyeom."

your boyfriend looks up, meeting your eyes through the camera lens. he doesn't speak, just wiggles his eyebrows at you and you laugh despite the sigh that follows.

"can you please be serious for like two minutes baby? i'm tired and i'd like to get these last few shots done so we can go home."

it's been a long day, for both of you. you're sure yugyeom's bloodstream is about 50% caffeine at this point and yours probably isn't much better. he's been up since 4am, getting hair and makeup and styling to shoot for his latest music video. you've been trailing around after him getting behind the scenes shots and footage, filming clips for a vlog he wants to post once it comes out, getting promo shots between takes and just helping the staff out where you can. they've been working hard for months to pull this album together and you know they're just as exhausted.

everyone finally called it a day about ten minutes ago, and you took the opportunity while they're all packing up to pull your boyfriend aside and snap the last couple of photos you needed to finish preparing his promotional material for the single release and album roll out. he's feeling the effects of the caffeine comedown though, all giggly and unable to stay still for fear of falling asleep on his feet. in any other circumstances you'd find it adorable, your big puppy ready to end his day with plenty of cuddles and rambling about how well the shoot went, but you’re also crashing and it’s making you a bit irritable.

your boyfriend noticed. you know he did. he's trying his best to keep your mood up but the noise is making your head pound and you just want to focus on getting this done so you can get back to your shared hotel room and get some rest in. you step back from the camera to offer him an apologetic smile, you shouldn't have snapped at him, but he just shakes his head and straightens up. your smile is relieved this time.

"thank you kyeomie."

you see the way he focuses, pulling himself together as you step back behind the camera and adjust the shot a little. you're thankful for thr tripod because you know your hands are starting to shake as the jitters from the endless coffees of the day start to hit. you take a deep breath, shake them out and slip back into your professional persona. between your expert directions and how naturally photogenic he is it doesn't take you long to get the shots you need. you set up to snap one last candid or two before wrapping up and that’s when the glint in his eyes hardens and he pulls out all the stops.

you hold your breath as the shutter snaps, eyes caught on the way his thumb brushes his plump lower lip and the sultry expression he makes for the camera. his eyes are hooded, smirk a little sly, and if you didn't know better you'd say he was trying to seduce you with this last pose. you try not to show how much he's affected you as you set about packing up, but the feeling of his eyes on your back as you put all your equipment away says he knows anyway. you've never been good at hiding much from him.

he confirms this when a hand comes to rest on the back of your neck as he sweeps the packed bag out of your hands to swing it up over one shoulder. the way his thumb brushes back and forth on the skin of your nape and feel of his lips soft against your temple sending shivers down your spine.

"kyeom you don't have to..."

he cuts off your protest about carrying everything, hand coming down from your neck to rub your upper arm as he pulls you against his side. "come on baby, let's go. i'm starving."

you just shake your head and let him lead you back to the car. you bid goodbye to countless staff on your way out of the building, yugyeom stopping to thank them and bowing at their praises on how hard he worked today. it takes longer than you'd like to get through all the pleasantries but it makes you smile to see how soft and shy he gets with everyone. he's still blushing as you make it to your vehicle for the day, dropping everything in the trunk and stopping to run a hand through his hair. you watch with a smile, hip propped against the back of the car as he takes a minute to breathe and compose himself.

he catches your gaze lingering and pouts at you, tucking both hands into his pockets. "what?"

you just laugh and shake your head, closing the few steps between you to pinch his cheeks playfully. "you're cute when they tell you you've done a good job. my shy baby."

he huffs, one arm winding around your waist and squeezing lightly. "yah stop it." his tone is whiny and it only makes you grin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck until his blushing dies down.

"cutie."

his reponse makes you yelp and wiggle in his hold a little, the way he nips at your neck just shy of painful. he laughs and does it again, teeth grazing your shoulder this time and you run a hand through his hair, tugging lightly.

"yah, kyeom, that hurts." now you're the one whining at him.

he just grins as he emerges, stepping back to look at you. his arm stays around you, keeping you close as his other hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear. he doesn't say anything, eyes just roaming your features, and you let him have this moment. it's nice, being in his arms, and you don't need words at times like these. you take a minute to just soak in his presence, his warmth, leaning into him as he leans down to rest his forehead on yours. you smile then, the sweetness of the gesture melting your heart just a little as he nuzzles his nose against yours. this is the man you fell in love with.

until your eyes flutter open and you lock eyes only to see the mischief painted on every line of your boyfriend's face. "did you like my last pose?"

you smile despite yourself, tugging him closer by the belt loops on his jeans and leaning up to press a long kiss to his lips. "you know i did."

his confidence is back immediately, you can see it in the curl at the corner of his lips. he's proud of himself for riling you up and you reach up to squish his cheeks in one hand.

"yah, stop that right now."

his eyes glitter with laughter and his voice is rough with the hint of a challenge as he keeps his face close, invading your personal space as usual. "or what?"

"or else we are not getting dinner."

he just shrugs. "dinner can wait, i'm craving something else anyway."

you hit his shoulder lightly, stepping back as you try to tamp down the warmth unfurling in your gut at his words. "kyeom!"

he just grins and leans in to steal another kiss, sliding the car keys out from your pocket teasingly slowly as he pulls back. his expression is sultry now, close to the way he had looked at you through the camera not too long ago and you fight the urge to chase his lips. he just smirks like he knows the turmoil he's caused and you shove him away lightly. that only makes him laugh and you take the opportunity to round the car but before you can open the passenger door he's back, all up in your space as he spins you around to face him and presses you back against the vehicle. you gasp softly as your back meets the cool exterior but he quickly captures the sound with his lips. you don’t resist, hands snaking up to hook around his neck and pull him closer. when he finally pulls back you're breathless and he's still grinning.

"forget about dinner." you tug him back down for a lingering kiss as he laughs against your lips, hand squeezing lightly st your hip.

"what happened to being tired?"

"sleep is just going to have to wait. i have a needy boyfriend who needs attention first."

he hums approvingly as he steps back a bit, pulling you along with him, and gets the door. you let him help you in and steal another kiss.

"i'm stealing all of your attention for the rest of the night." he confirms. "i haven't had nearly enough kisses today."

you grin. "aww, is my poor baby melting away from a lack of cuddles and affection?"

he nods somberly and you shake your head, buckling up as he closes the door and heads around to the driver’s seat.

"poor baby."

he blinks at you as he climbs in and starts the car. "that's not what you're going to be saying when i get you back to the hotel."

he's right. you say a lot of things but that definitely isn't one of them and by the time you get around to dinner it's takeout in bed, you dressed in nothing more than his t-shirt and lounging comfortably against his bare chest as you finally catch up on your day together. you wouldn't change it for anything, not even when the headache you wake up with pounds against your temples. not when yugyeom scoops you up for a hot shower, lips pressed against your forehead as he washes you so gently and insists on dressing you in one of his shirts again. sometimes a little pain is worth it.

[litloverscorsetlaces]

An Essay on ALW's Erik

One of the best insights I got into ALW's Phantom from some random Reddit user is to watch for whether the lead plays Erik from his own POV or from Christine's, especially in MOTN. (I also add a third option because several actors also play him from the perspective of the audience or a more omniscient narrator.)

These approaches result in entirely different, but no less accurate, interpretations of the character. For example, Earl Carpenter's performance from the first lair to the final lair is entrenched in the Phantom's perspective, from the total anxiety he projects in MOTN, to his more hesitant physical engagement with Christine, to his decision to kneel/silently beg Christine to stay with him during the ring return. And I love that there's variety within this perspective as well. Carpenter uses this POV to portray a very earnest and sympathetic (if unscocialized) Erik, but I'd argue that Anthony Warlow also falls within this category even though he leans into the darker aspects of the Phantom's psyche.

I have favorite Phantoms in both categories, but I admit that Christine's POV is actually what hooked me to this musical. I got deep into Phantom boots after losing my dad in my 20s and watching an engagement fall apart under the strain of grief. When Erik is viewed or portrayed (à la Hugh Panaro) through Christine's eyes, you can see the character undergo a pitchy transformation throughout the musical as Christine works through her own relationship to men while grieving and coming of age. Erik initially presents himself to her as a father figure, then as a full-on seducer in the first lair, and then as a total monster. The story is in part about Christine's journey toward reconciling these different ways of perceiving/relating to masculinity in the absence of what had been the only male figure in her life. And the musical approaches resolution when Christine realizes that Erik is neither her dad, her lover, or a total villain--he's just a man. And he's worthy of compassion, but she can also choose to leave him.

Anyway, I hate when people say that it's inaccurate for Erik to be "X" or "Y". Because especially through the lens of Christine's journey, Erik is all the things at one point or another (or even simultaneously). He is a daddy-coded immortal messenger and a genius and sex incarnate and unhinged and broken and, and, and...a literary figure shaped by the internal worlds of the author, the reader, and the viewer/listener. What's the point in trying to make objective claims about him? Resist binary thinking and make literary and media analysis great again.

[inner-viper]

20 Channeled Messages From Your FS

Hello, it is Inner Viper! I love channeling these messages, some are oddly specific and they are very sweet. I am currently in the middle of planning a very long reading for you guys! I’m thankful for your support for my blog. I created this blog for fun and for people to smile more, I really hope that people can smile more. I am not going to lie, sometimes channeling can be overwhelming for me but this blog has helped me improve in my overall abilities. I even unlocked some new abilities so thanks, everyone! 

If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

Remember to choose the image that is calling out to you. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t because this is a general pac reading. Some messages are not meant for you, while other messages aren’t meant for you. Also, this is meant to give you insight, not concrete evidence.

I hope you enjoy the reading for today!

TW: Mentions of body dysmorphia, abuse, and slightly suggestive content

»»————-　♡　————-«« 

Pile 1

“Hey, come closer so I can kiss you. My day always starts well with you at my side”

“Stay with me forever, I promise to take care of you”

“Don’t deny me, you know you like what you see ;)” (They winking here lol)

“Don’t think you can run away, I finally have you all to myself. You won’t be prepared for what I have planned for”

“Fuck, I wish you were right here. It’s boring without you here right now”

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise! I also got something for you”

“You have stolen my heart, if eros were here then he has struck me to be in love with you even more than before” 

“I love you for who you are, I want to be like you” 

“Hello? Hello? HELLO? GIVE ME ATTENTION, I’M BORED! I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW”

“Stop, let’s go over here.. Hehe you didn’t expect that right!” (They kissed you but also I leave it up to the imagination since this is GENERAL pac lol) 

“Let’s go to Japan, I want to see the cheery blossoms with you. To take a picture of you underneath the petals following. I’ll cherish that picture for the rest of my life”

“Wanna go out tonight? Good thing you said yes because I have already made reservations for us to spend some time alone”

“Hey, do you think you can kiss me? Kiss me now!”

“The warmth I feel near you, the way I am at peace with you, yet my heart still races with you at my side”

“You always make me feel horny, I love everything you do!”

“What’s wrong? Hey, don’t worry. I love you forever and always. You can always rely on me”

“I will patiently wait for you, my heart can’t bare to lose you”

“You are always helping others, why can’t you stop helping? You should chill and let others help, ugh you have such a big heart and that’s why I love you”

“When I see you sitting there passionately drawing, I wonder how it feels to see the world from your lens. The way you think and the words you say amaze me”

“Let me touch you, let me be the one to hold you, let me be the one to always be there for you, will you give me the honor?”

This person is very sweet and romantic. Love these messages I channeled for you pile 1. Honestly, my heart was feeling warm too, there will be so many precious moments with your FS every day. 

Pile 2 

“Each day is a beautiful day with you, the joy that you bring me is like no other. I can’t put my feelings into words”

“I want to give you strawberries with chocolates, are you being seduced by me now?”

“What is this strange feeling.. I feel like I am on drugs when I am near you. You drive me crazy in the best way possible”

“See! I told you that you would like fine wearing this! Baby, you are gorgeous!” (Maybe you are insecure about yourself? Body dysmorphia? )

“At the end of the rainbow, there is a pot filled with gold, they say that the gems are precious and that the leprechauns hide them away. You are my gold, I am like the leprechaun. I want to keep you with me forever and away from people that might try to steal you away from me!”

“I can create so many things, you inspired a different style in me. Artistic style, yeah this artistic expression of the love that I feel for you. Divine love baby” (Aw, I heard this one strongly)

“Our love doesn’t stop at death, it is eternal. My love knows no bounds with you!”

“I used to believe that I won’t be able to find the one, I often times pondered if you were even out there. I wondered if you thought about me while staring at the moon. I am glad to have found you”

“I finally found you in this sea of fishes. The ocean is far too vast yet I will still go looking for you”

“I love making you smile, you always make me smile. Can you promise to laugh with me?”

“You are the only one that I’ll let inside my heart, no one else is allowed except for you”

“The world was dull, ever since you came into my life. You have brought a fresh perspective that I needed to see. I couldn’t have seen it without you here”

“I want to overstimulate you”

“Follow my lead, I won’t leave you behind. I’ll always protect you until the end of my life”

“Roses are red, and your face is red”

“You are safe with me, you are my safe space”

“I feel like I can just be me when I am with you”

“Let's show our love to the world baby”

“My heart beats so fast around you, I worry that you may be able to hear it”

“I went through so much in my life, you are the only person I feel safe with. I struggle with vulnerability but you make me feel better”

This person went through a lot! I’m sorry for this pile’s FS because I feel they went through some abuse and they have a hard time expressing emotions. They are going to heal with you when you meet them! They are opening up to people slowly though!

Pile 3

“I wonder how many days till you notice how much I love you and care for you”

“I love watching you sleep, your resting face is beautiful”

“You are beautiful in every moment, I want to capture your essence”

“Dear god I love you so fucking much”

“I just want to dance with you, lets dance until the night”

“Let go of the fear of not being enough”

“I have given you all of me and now you’ll give yourself to me! Submit to me because I am Daddy”

“I love the way that you praise me, give me more compliments! You have no idea what it does to me”

“I am honored to be the one to cherish you, to be the one to hold you dearly, thank you for giving me the honor”

“We may have not been there for each other first half of our lives but that doesn’t mean we can’t create memories or form a close bond. We have the rest of our lives, let’s take each day to create something new”

“Oh god, I am a late bloomer. I haven’t had my first love until you, I mean I dated a couple of people but I never loved them. You are the first and last love of my life and I promise to commit to that”

“People often tell me how I got into a relationship with you, you are so fine! I don’t have much of an answer because you are just the one. I never believed in finding the one until I met you. Ok, maybe I am lying because I am a hopeless romantic”

“Ah, you like my sweet words don’t you love?”

“Let’s look at the stars tonight, I will be staring at you all night because you are my light. You are my star in this world”

“You are my best friend and you are my lover”

“The angels are around us because you are an angel! You were sent from the heavens down onto earth!”

“You are nothing like me! You are so different and I never met anyone like you before”

“I want to scream your name tonight, come on you will be screaming my name tonight as well”

“I look at you from afar and I can tell that it is you because no one is as beautiful and as bright as you are”

“I love your laughter, your hair, your eyes, everything about you is so fine”

This pile’s FS is very sweet and romantic! They view you as their best friend and they love everything about you. They think that you have so much to offer for this world, they are intoxicated by you. Also, I think for this pile you may be their first love and for some their first everything! It’s so cute <3

»»————-　♡　————-«« Thank you for reading! If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

[cavegirlpoems]

So the is d&d queer argument is going around again, same as it ever was. And for whatever reason, talking about it with a friend reminded me of a conversation I had on the subject ages ago. During that they claimed Changling the Dreaming was queer friendly, I disagreed; I countered that if CtD was queer friendly, than any hidden world / conspiracy game would be, that Vampire the Masquerade would be. The argument never reached a satisfying conclusion, at the time neither of us were working off anything but vibes.

Now, I know you've argued that they are, and significantly so when compared to other rpgs of the era. Would you mind expanding on your arguments? What is it about VtM or about WoD products more broadly that makes them queer friendly?

OK SO lets define terms:

"Queerness" is ways of approaching sexuality, gender, family and romance that are excluded from hegemonic social norms.

a "Queer Text" is a text that deals with queerness in some way, either through direct depiction or through intentional allegory. In the case of games, a queer game is one where the intended activities of gameplay supported by the game's design deal with queerness.

So far so good?

So, easy first example. Original D&D. OD&D is a game about exploring a dangerous location to extract treasure from it. It cares deeply about resource depletion, logistics, and threats to the characters lives, which is why these things are given detailed mechanics. It does not give a shit about characters' love lives or genders; these things get basically no attention in the mechanics or expected experience of play. OD&D is clearly not a queer game.

Another easy example. Monsterhearts. Monsterhearts is a game about messy supernatural teen dramas. It has mechanics for flirting and sex (which ignore the hegemonic expectation to be limited to the opposite sex), and that reflect how your character is percieved by their peers. It is, very directly, dealing with queerness in its themes.

So. the old WoD games.

Both changeling and vampire have some loose mechanical support for dealing with romance, and both changeling and vampire present societies our characters belong to that have some degree of hegemonic expectations for these things. There is, further, certainly an easy read to see both as reflecting some aspects of queer experiences allegorically.

I'll begin with vampire. Now, it must be said that vampire fundamentally deals with weaponised sexuality. Sexuality is used to seduce as a form of power, or expressed when one feeds. That said, it's a sexy game that cares a lot about the unequal power dynamics in these exchanges, and how a given character can gain power through sexuality in one situation and then fall victim to the same dynamics in another.

Is this necessarily a queer thing? No, you could use this set-up to explore heterosexuality's imbalances. However, the game clearly intends you to apply this lens to queer relationships too. Many of the interestingly toxic relationships presented in the game's setting turn out to be gay, including some key figures. The triad of Antonius, Michael and the Dracon comes to mind, as does the relationship between Troile and Moloch.

Now, this queerness isn't central to vampire the way it is in, say, monsterhearts. Vampire is mostly a game concerned with political power structures, exploitation, and personal authenticity. Sexuality (and with it queer sexuality) is one of many lenses that the game applies to this set up. Social class, culture and particularly age stratification are also lenses that Vampire uses to explore its central theme of exploitation.

But. The queer themes in vampire are there, and hard to convincingly excise from the experience of play. Trying to play 'vampire the masquerade but everybody's straight' requires you to push against the game text a little.

Moving on, let's look at changeling. Now, changeling puts a bit more focus on romance than vampire does, with a society that's deeply concerned with courtly romance, and where different approaches to that courtly romance are a key social divide. This is a space where its easy to be queer, and again some of the examples the text offers are obviously so, but that romance is - to my mind - less thematically central than sexuality-as-power is to vampire.

However, changeling might be less of a gay allegory than vampire, but it's also a very obvious and on-the-nose trans allegory.

The central tennet of changeling is that for every changeling character they have a true inner nature (their fey soul) that isn't reflected in their outward appearance. Having to suppress or deny this nature is presented as a directly harmful experience, a fundamental death-of-the-self that comes from conforming to societal expectations. The solution to this problem, then, is to find others like oneself who you can truly be yourself around, and building comminity with them where you support one another and foster one another's self-actualisation.

This isn't subtext, this is dommetext. Changeling the Dreaming is a game about dysphoria and found community.

The trans reading of changeling is extremely obvious and on-the-nose. This isn't the only theme explored by changeling; it is also deeply concerned with growing old, and with class divides. But it's front and center to the game; its other themes arise as explorations of its central theme, which is dysphoria and community.

(For the record, I think that the queer elements of other WoD games are much less prominent. In Werewolf, Mage and Wraith, these things are much more subtextual than they are in vampire and changeling. But I'm not a huge fan of werewolf and mage to begin with, and wraith's cosmic horror is good enough to hook me in anyway).

So yes. I think its fair to call both vampire and changeling queer games. Their queerness is generally explored more thoroughly through allegory over direct depiction, but both do include - and expect you to include - directly queer characters as well.

Now, they aren't the most queer games. Vampire in particular is more concerned with class and power than with queerness, and they both have pretty broad thematic bases they cover. It's very possible to play a changeling game that downplays the dysphoria and focusses instead on growing old and infirm. And in the modern day, there are other games that are more overt and focussed with their queer themes.

But. The queerness is there in both games, and when they first came out, its inclusion was legitimately groundbreaking.

[yannig]

I want to explore the garden of Eden metaphor

In episode 5, Paytai and Charan had a talk about the Garden of Eden painting that Charan was doing for the king, about greed and wanting something more when it is forbidden.

@bronte-blues analyzed beautifully, through that original sin metaphor, what that painting and discussion means for each of them.

Last week, @historicallyaccurateweedshoppe noted how Khanin making everyone drink Davichmetha's apple-based cocktail in episode 6 could be seen as him successfully tempting them with the forbidden fruit.

Then @nabi-unveiled expanded on the garden's metaphor by looking at the gardens and territories of every family.

And I want to explore all that more in dept because there are a lot of elements that I think can be analyzed through this lens.

The first thing that should have caught my eye earlier is our dear Ava's name. It's less obvious when talking because it's pronounced more like 'Awa', but put in writing, it becomes very obvious that she's almost called Eve, doesn't it.

And it could be nothing. I don't know where the name comes from in Thai*. But with everything else we've noticed, it's hard to see it as just a coincidence. Like, they really gave us one (1) plot-relevant female character and named her Ava of all things.

Then we've got that entire scene in the bar from episode 6, which, as @historicallyaccurateweedshoppe pointed, feels like a direct reference to Genesis.

There are lots of parallels between Khanin convincing Ava to do things she's never done and the snake convincing Eve to bite into the forbidden fruit, and I'd like to look into it more deeply.

The temptation is in three parts, 3 elements Ava has never allowed herself to try:

Going out to the city/a club: Ava worrying about her father learning where she is

Drinking the apple-based Davicher cocktail: Ava explaining she's never tried the cocktail because she doesn't drink

Dancing: Ava asking "can we do that?" when Khanin proposes to hit the dance floor, like the thought has never even crossed her mind

And every time, Khanin has an answer along the line of "there's no harm in having a bit of fun". Which is enough, all three times, to convince Ava to follow his lead. I don't know if she's easily influenced or if she wants to try all these things, but the result is all the same: she bites into the apple.

And because Eve wouldn't be Eve if she didn't drag a man down with her, she gets the guys to follow suite.

You'll note that Calvin, Ramil, and Paytai are all there with them at the club, but it's Ramil specifically she asks to accompany them. And he agrees.

She gives a rather pointed look to Calvin when she says she'd rather watch others get drunk, which he clearly catches. And the man ends up black out drunk.

And when she gets up to dance, she asks first Calvin and then Paytai to come dance with them - and the second agrees.

That's 3/3. (Not counting Charan here because he's there for Khanin and only him)

I'm not saying that makes either of them Adam, I don't think it's that straightforward - though arguably, they're all Adam - but it's still noteworthy.

Then we've got Khanin and Charan.

Charan also succumbs to all three parts of the temptation, though arguably he came with them for security more than to have fun. But he does accept the drink and end up letting himself go a bit to dance with Khanin, so once again, Khanin wins.

Different level than with Ava, because he is trying to seduce Charan - but same level at the same time, because he is in part chipping at the same education to get them to relax and enjoy life a little.

And of course, we've got the sex scene at the end of episode 7, where Charan finally and fully lets himself succumbs to the temptation he was alluding to when talking about the painting. He gives in to Khanin and his desire for him, he bites the apple, fully, knowingly, purposefully which means he must now get kicked out of Eden.

While we're on the topic of Khanin as the tempter/the snake: the Serpent is of course the symbol of the Bhuchongpisut.

But Khanin's mother was a Bhunchongpisut too wasn't she? He is a Bhuchongpisut just as much (or as little) as he is an Assavadevathin.

(Ramil, in this metaphor, is less the snake than he is Lucifer. but that's a topic for another day)

The Garden of Eden, of course, is both the Palace(s) as a physical place as it is royalty as a concept, and God is King Thipokbowon Assavadevathin.

And everyone is stuck in said Garden (except jay. not sure yet where he stands in this metaphor but he's the only one not stuck in the garden and it will be relevant), in a golden cage of abundance and apparent power that should mean perfect happiness but also comes with arbitrary rules and hierarchy of power that prevent them from getting what they want (love, freedom, recognition, safety).

Which means they must leave or get cast out of the Garden/Monarchy to actually get what they want, which will come with freedom but also pain and loss.

And the need to work, funnily enough. As per the book of Genesis, when God casts out Adam and Eve from Eden, part of their punishment is that they most now work for sustenance, when they previously lived in perfect abundance. Just like young royals who were raised with a silver spoon in their mouth would suddenly need to work were they to be cast out of the royal family.

That dynamic between all of them, the fact that Khanin introduces the temptation but Ava is the one who gets the others to follow suite, is important because the forbidden fruit isn't just love. For Paytai and Charan it might be.

But for the heirs?

The forbidden fruit is the knowledge and freedom necessary to make their own choices. The forbidden fruit is agency.

And they are going to have to work together to get there, because one doesn't just get to walk out of the royal family/the Garden of Eden.

*if anyone has things to add about the meaning of the characters' names, I'd love to hear it! I know @visualtaehyun already explained how Ramil and Paytai's names relate to each other, but I'd love to learn more!

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

So I didn't get very deep into tgcf (I tried okay) but I love mdzs and svsss. The weird thing is...I don't think I ever seen a fandom misunderstand the characters so much and in such numbers as it happens in MXTX fandoms. Even the main characters. SQQ words are taken exclusively at face value. It's not like he shows he's unreliable narrator! WWX is judged based only on that other people say, despite book warning specifically against it. Surely if sect leader Yao says he's, like, evil, he can't be better than at least morally gray! (No. Just....no). XL as far as I've seen-the very definition of "kind but boring", innocent as a lamb, absolutely no backbone. I won't even try to speak about other characters.

Just who the fuck comes up with this shit? Is it really just the western fans first time seeing a non-western book and trying to force familiar tropes into it? Is it a case of complete illiteracy? Is it something about MXTX writing specifically?Did I simply didn't notice the stupidity before?

Please send help.

I despise how this fandom uses "unreliable narrator" for every single MXTX shou. They misuse this term constantly, between "Wei Wuxian omitted truths from the characters hence the audience", no that's not unreliable narrator especially because he is NOT our narrator, he is not the one telling us the story and plot as it goes. Xie Lian is called an unreliable narrator for also not stating what he has done in his life from the get go, he is also not the narrator and we would not have emotional built up for the anticipation for why he "fell as a god and was a disgrace to the heavens". Shen Yuan is also not an unreliable narrator because he is trying to work off of presumably predestined information HE has from the book he read and does not realize he has already shifted the plot itself.

To be an unreliable narrator, that entity HAS to be the one we are viewing the major significance through in order to color the plot points in a colored emotional lens of bias. We are meant to question their credibility and veracity due to a reliance of manipulation and distraction of perception intentionally. The most iconic rendition of unreliable narration is of Lolita and Humbert who literally wrote his screwed and warped rendition of his abuse of Dolores with his claims of her seducing him, despite even in his own narration there are holes to his logic and reasoning to his audience that he used his position of control.

This is simply a matter of fans not even understanding what their own literary classes were for and literally trying to change definitions for their own narrative, ironically being the unreliable narrators due to their own bias of thought. And half the time these are due to fans really not liking the main characters and wanting to claim they were villain protagonists all along despite these plots being the exact opposite. And none of these stories still have these men as our focal narrator, they are the protagonist but they are not interpreting others for us.

Infamously Jiang Cheng's tantrum during the meeting after the Wen Remnants have been saved. Wei Wuxian is not even present for this to be HIS unreliable account to the audience because our actual faceless narrator is in the head of Jiang Cheng, and this entire meeting is a bunch of unreliable narrators attacking and demeaning Wei Wuxian due to several biases in the room manipulating, coercing and omitting information and emotions.

Xie Lian is somehow incompetent because he has not revealed any information despite others in his life already having made their own unreliable assumptions about him and choosing to believe that for centuries, Mu Qing, Feng Xin and Lang Qianqiu. Mu Qing wants to be proven that his dislike of Xie Lian is justified and sometimes revels in Xie Lian's struggles and humiliation of failing because he thinks his kindness is due to privilege and is insincere. Feng Xin is only pedestaling Xie Lian's righteous position as a prince and finds his humanity shameful once he sees Xie Lian struggling and Feng Xin stays out of his own pride of duty. Lang Qianqiu believes that it was Xie Lian that slaughtered the seat of Yong-An for power, when the king said he would kill the descendants of Xianle, his own people after the scheming of Qi Rong. Leading to Xie Lian finding it as HIS own failure preventing this in happening and taking the fall to be the culprit in Lan Qianqiu's eyes due to the boy having been friends with An Le the other schemer that felt no remorse for his actions.

And on to Shen Yuan, he is not an unreliable narrator because he is interpreting all of Luo Binghe's actions through the plot that he knows, he is wildly lost when it begins to shift and desperately tries to keep this on point due to the threat of the system prompts. And he does fail in meeting this prompts at times, which leads him to his encounter with the original Luo Binghe, which helps to solidify that his Luo Binghe is nothing like the original. This realization being a catalyst for Shen Qingqiu to navigate his relationship and protection for Luo Binghe with the perception their world has of Luo Binghe, that is once more resentfully biased.

This term of unreliable narrator is misused in place of saying "I didn't fully understand the plot points and the consequences that were not of the protagonist's making".

[stormyrainyday]

How to Read MFB Like a Professor: Chapter 3

Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampires

Key concepts: Vampires (and sometimes other monsters!) in works symbolize a variety of evils-- especially exploitation, corruption, and violation of autonomy.

What's this? Read the series intro post.

I'm sure I don't have to spell out why Lightning L Drago-- a bey that explicitly feeds off the negative emotions of its opponent in order to make itself stronger-- is the topic of an essay on vampires in media. It doesn't really get more on-the-nose than this. Truth be told, I wracked my brains for ages trying to find a more subversive answer to the question of "Who are the vampires in MFB?" but it feels wrong to cover this topic and not talk about L Drago and Ryuga. What I've landed on is the expansion from L Drago itself to the important figures of the Dark Nebula as a whole: L Drago, Ryuga, and Doji, and the characters who fell victim to the organization.

(I did also consider Reiji, but for the sake of brevity I will save discussion on him for another essay. His theming doesn't fit as neatly into the points being made here today).

Luckily, there is more to the metaphor than immediately meets the eye. The goal of this essay isn't so much to prove that the Dark Nebula represents vampirism, but rather to view it with this lens and explore the implications for the characters involved.

Foster in his book describes several facets that make up the literary vampire, similar to the components of the archetypal quest I discuss in chapter 1. Necessarily, there must be:

A (usually alluring) figure, representing some kind of corrupt value. This is our vampire

A victim for the vampire to feed off of

Within the story, the following things must happen:

Stripping of the victim's vitality

Continuing/enhancing the life of the "vampire"

The destruction of the victim

With these in mind, we can examine the Dark Nebula and its victims in the context of vampirism.

The Alluring Figure

There's a reason Dracula and other famous vampires have been described in their respective media as deeply attractive; in order to seduce a victim into falling into their traps, vampires must have some sort of draw. L Drago's allure is clear from the start: from the very beginning of its history, L Drago has drawn in bladers with the promise of near-godly power, one that can win wars and manipulate nature itself. Doji describes this briefly with Ryuga's introduction, and Ryo goes into further depth towards the end of the season.

Like a vampire or other monster, the power is supernatural, otherworldly. L Drago literally is born of a star fragment that comes from the sky, and these origins play a role in its mystique. This mysteriousness then increases its draw-- people are attracted to the unknown even if they fear it, and L Drago is no exception. Though L Drago is ultimately created by humans, its basis is a power that humans didn't fully understand but are nevertheless enchanted by and use for nefarious purposes.

This extreme and unadulterated power is, of course, very corrupt and the show makes that extremely clear. The power is derived from negative emotions and thus inherently thrives on discord-- it can't coexist with peaceful times. That is why it was sealed away, and why legends warned against it. However, the temptation for power and control is too great, and that's why L Drago appears again and again through history. Doji even explicitly says "Whoever controls the extraordinary power of beys controls the very fate of the world itself" when monologuing during L Drago Awakens!

Similarly, Ryuga himself is cloaked in mystique for nearly the entirety of MFB; in Metal Fusion, we know very little about his past, his motivations (aside from the simple goal of wanting to be strong), or even his personality beyond his arrogance. This, combined with being the primary antagonist in season 1 and one of the canonically strongest bladers in the series, has made him a fan favorite.

Even Doji has a sort of charismatic appeal to him. He presents characters with a vision and promises it to them if they join his cause. For most recruits, this involves the promise of the power to beat Gingka (the main exception is Yu, and he is promised exciting battles and strong opponents. Thematically it actually makes sense that Yu is the only one of the Dark Nebula bladers to leave and join Gingka's side, as he is the only one is is not seduced by the power of raw strength, and has motivations far more pure than the other members-- that is, the joy of blading). Doji is also well dressed, well spoken, and careful about appearances; all these things draw characters towards him and make them trust him enough to join his cause. To join Doji is to make a deal with a devil in disguise, but the Dark Nebula recruits have no way to know this until it is too late.

Together, Doji, Ryuga, and L Drago all have a distinct appeal to them that draws people in; that being said, they are the villains of the show and very clearly represent the corrupting nature of power. They value power above all, and don't care who they hurt in the process of acquiring it. I'll speak later on the nuances of L Drago's influence vs the innate nature of the characters, but for now, consider them as one unit.

The Victim

A monster must have a victim, and the Dark Nebula and L Drago are no exception. Like a vampire, L Drago feeds off of the power and strength of its opponent, and once defeated, leaves them as a husk of their former selves-- drained, exhausted, and unable to do much of anything. In literature, the victims of vampires are usually young, innocent, and typically female; this is because vampires are often commentaries on exploitation and power imbalance. These themes run clearly through Metal Fusion as well.

The show depicts in no uncertain terms what happens to those who fall for the Dark Nebula's allure. Their strength is taken indiscriminately as fuel for Ryuga and L Drago, and Doji facilitates the destruction with a smile on his face. We see this with Tobio, Tetsuya, Dan, Reiki, and the Kumade brothers in The Dragon's Punishment.

This display of power is shown to Yu (and Ryutaro) specifically, and though Yu isn't one of the people to be directly 'consumed' by L Drago, he fits the bill well for a vampire's victim-- young, naive, and caught up in things he doesn't understand. And despite not being a direct victim of L Drago, he doesn't walk away from his close contact with corruption unscathed; when he escapes the Dark Nebula, he is rife with physical injury, deep seated fear and despair, and his bey itself is badly damaged (which is significant as the state of a bey is closely in line with that of the blader's spirit. This is why Poison Serpent's physical chip damage is so detrimental for its opponent's mental states).

Apart from the Dark Nebula bladers, there are 3 characters who fight Ryuga directly during the Battle Bladers tournament: Hikaru, Tsubasa, and Kyoya. The degree of their post-battle psychological impact is interestingly in line with how much they align with the archetype of a classic vampire's victim.

I'll start with Kyoya, as he is the farthest removed. Kyoya is no stranger to conflict and he, like many of the Dark Nebula bladers, is driven by the desire to beat Gingka. However, his lust for power is addressed early on in the season when he has a brush with Doji himself; during those episodes, he's driven by an obsessive need to destroy Gingka. It's only when he undergoes personal growth during that battle do his motivations crucially shift-- at the end of the episode, he no longer sees Gingka as an opponent to destroy, but instead a rival to aid in their mutual growth. By then, his character growth arc is actually mostly complete (even if his power continues to increase). The Kyoya who goes to battle Ryuga is self assured and can no means be described as innocent or helpless; he is the one who ends up putting up the strongest fight of the three (it's implied that their strength is equal; the only reason Ryuga wins in the end is because L Drago begins to take over). This is why, when we see him again in Metal Masters, he bears no real evidence of the dark power's effect. It's honestly a stretch to call him a victim at all, especially when compared to Tsubasa and Hikaru.

On the other end of the spectrum, we have Hikaru, who aligns far most closely with the archetypal victim. At first glance, Hikaru and Kyoya are similar in nature if not in actual power. Hikaru is also headstrong, passionate, and by no means helpless-- no one who made it into Battle Bladers is weak, and from her introductory episode Hikaru is a force to be feared.

Well. Or so we're meant to think.

I apologize for straying from the voice of an objective analyst for a second. I need you to believe me when I say it really really pains me to say what I'm about to say. Hikaru's fall off is genuinely one of the most upsetting things about this show to me. I love her and her character and goddammit she deserved better even if her fate makes sense thematically.

Hikaru isn't weak, but she is almost immediately outclassed after her initial win against Kenta. Kenta himself is the one to beat her in the very next episode. After that point, Hikaru does not win a single other on-screen battle for the rest of the season. For god's sake she even loses against Teru, a character who exists for like 5 episodes max.

Thus it comes as no surprise that, of all of Ryuga's opponents (after the Dark Nebula lackeys of course), she is the weakest.

It's also easy to miss Hikaru's innocence at first glance; after all, she has an intentionally cold and no-nonsense demeanor to hide her true feelings. It's only when Hikaru is training alone that the audience gets a real look at her motivations, and they are shockingly sweet. Her pursuit of strength is in service of her mother's dying wish. She made a promise as a child, and it is that childlike innocence and belief that drives her forward.

Like others, she also wants to be the best in the world, and she is willing to fight indiscriminately to get there (we see this when she is willing to fight Kenta posing as Gingka-- she doesn't care that he's just a kid, only that he is strong and defeating him will bring her closer to her goal). But beneath it all is the little girl who made the promise to her dying mother.

Unfortunately for Hikaru, this innocence further primes her to be the victim in our vampire's tale.

There is also discussion to be had on the fact that the only girl to enter Battle Bladers is the one to suffer the worst at the hands of Ryuga and L Drago. Whether or not this was intentional, the fact remains that she was sent crashing through the stadium, rendered helpless for the rest of the season (as were Kyoya and Tsubasa, but because Hikaru battles first she is out for the most episodes), and subsequently suffers such trauma from the ordeal that she gives up blading together. She isn't even given a chance to fight back before Ryuga defeats her with overwhelming strength and consumes her spirit. This could be read as an allegory for assault (and the underlying theme of sexual exploitation is seen often in literary works on vampires), but in an effort to keep the essay minimally triggering I won't speak further on this.

Tsubasa's case is a little trickier as it lies somewhere in between Kyoya and Hikaru. He's an exception to the other Dark Nebula bladers as he only joined in order to extract information on behalf of the WBBA. He wouldn't be blamed for dropping out of Battle Bladers altogether, and only battles Ryuga in a noble (if borderline self-sacrificing) move to ensure that others aren't hurt after what happened to Hikaru. Despite being a spy, he's an honest and level-headed person at heart, and battles with a cool rationality different from most others. Despite this, he is also severely victimized following the battle against L Drago. Why?

Tsubasa's backstory and personality is explored more in the second season with his descent into darkness, but we learn his own heart houses two key things that allow him to fall victim to the allure of power: a deep-seated insecurity about letting down those he cares about, and an lasting bitterness at people who are able to get ahead using underhanded methods. The dark power within him sells itself as a means to rise beyond these perceived weaknesses, and it's a struggle that lasts for much of the season.

(sorry for the lack of subtitles the subbed version for Metal Masters just isn't available even with VPN for some reason and the auto-generated ones are incomprehensible)

These insecurities are shown to stem from his childhood, and the dark power taking advantage of this is what leads to his unwinding throughout the course of Metal Masters. His arc is to reconcile the conflicting parts of his personality, but as far as his interaction with Ryuga is concerned, the damage is done. It doesn't help that Ryuga is also able to overwhelm him with strength; though Tsubasa puts up a better fight than Hikaru, it is still no question that Ryuga is stronger.

If Hikaru's spirit is broken completely and Kyoya's is functionally unscathed, Tsubasa's can be argued to have fractured during this battle, and the exploration into his psyche later on also shows how he overcomes this trauma and is stronger after the fact.

All of Ryuga and L Drago's victims suffer in different ways but the thing they all have in common is this: at the end of their battle, they are defeated and their spirits used to make L Drago stronger. Just as a vampire drinks blood from its victim to replenish its life, L Drago uses others' spirits as fuel to increase its own power.

There are two victims I have yet to talk about though: Doji, and Ryuga himself.

Doji is simply a victim to the power he helped create. In his devotion to Ryuga's rise to power, he forgot about the very thing he told Yu: under the Emperor, all others are equal. He thought because of his position as a loyal servant, he would be spared and he and Ryuga would rise to the top together. However, Ryuga discards him the second he stops being useful and shows weakness. It is poetic justice to see the very power Doji weaponized and directly nurtured be the thing that defeated him in the end. It plays right into the central theme as well-- that unchecked power is a corrupting force that spares no one.

(The three dragons and Doji's helpless posture here mirrors that of Hikaru in her battle-- another neat detail that really hammers in the karmic nature of Doji's demise).

Ryuga's case differs from Doji, though. Unlike Doji, Ryuga was the one actually wielding L Drago and therefore directly suffering the corrupting force of the dark power contained within. We know that L Drago takes the negativity of a person and amplifies it, and we see this change happen in Ryuga as the season goes on. When he steals the bey with Doji, he is arrogant, yes, but does not have a god complex. He is also callous and mean, but not cruel until he gets his hands on the bey itself. When he first picks up the crystal, he explicitly says that he's aware of the power sucking him in and even looks alarmed, but his desire for power causes him to take the bey anyway.

By the end of his battle with Ryo, he's already condescending Ryo for being too weak to fight against him. When he sees Gingka in L Drago Awakens! he intentionally insults Ryo to Gingka's face as a cruel way to provoke him. By the time Battle Bladers happens, he truly believes himself to be infallible.

In fact, he plays so neatly into L Drago's hands that it's only when he's in danger of losing to Kyoya do we realize that Ryuga isn't fully in control. In fact, Ryuga himself is consumed by L Drago before the match with Kyoya even ends. Again, in a scene that hauntingly mirrors Hikaru's, his own bey deems him too weak and turns on him. Just as Ryuga had discarded everyone weaker than him up until this point (including Doji), L Drago decided that Ryuga was too weak to continue, and pushes him aside, taking his power and his body to continue fighting in the name of world domination. It happens so suddenly that everyone, including Kyoya, Gingka, and his friends can only watch on in horror as it happens. They don't comprehend it until the final battle with Gingka, but this was the moment that Ryuga was lost and L Drago had fully taken control.

It's a clear violation of Ryuga's autonomy. It's unclear if Ryuga is aware of what's going on-- I'd argue that he is, as he has not fully changed into the monstrous form we see in the following episode, and even when he has transformed, Gingka is able to get through to him. L Drago consuming Ryuga and assuming control of his body is even more disturbing when recalling that a bey is supposed to be a blader's partner; this makes it clear that L Drago held the cards all along, and the relationship between it and Ryuga was never equal. To L Drago, Ryuga was always a means to an end. In other words, a thing to be used.

Kyoya's defeat is the most gruesome because he is L Drago's victim, not Ryuga's. If there was ever any doubt as to this fact, the animation makes it clear: Ryuga no longer appears human, and it's a head of L Drago that pierces Kyoya's chest and drains his energy.

Ryuga, for all his cruelty and pride, was not the type of person to hurt a fellow blader in the way that happens to Kyoya. In the end, he fell victim to L Drago just as much as the rest of them, and that is why it is so important that Ryuga also be saved in the final episode.

It's bitter irony that Ryuga says this line, when the real trap all along was L Drago's promise of power. Ryuga's arrogance causes him to fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

With the final two victims in mind, the thematic narrative is complete. Everyone who comes into contact with Lightning L Drago suffers for it. It draws people in with its mystique and the promise of strength, and then hungrily consumes the spirits of every blader it meets-- including its own master-- in order to make itself stronger. Lightning L Drago represents the simultaneously attractive and corrupting nature of extreme power. It's a force of destruction, and left devastation in its wake. It is a very small, very evil, left spinning little vampire.

Thanks for reading as always! I haven't yet looked ahead at the next chapter-- I try not to read them until I've finished the previous analysis. I hope this one was worth the wait. My personal life is busy as always but I love this little side hobby so much.

Want to read more? Chapter 1 Chapter 2

[dilemmaontwolegs]

hello gorgeous, I love your imagination that you put into words. I expecially like your works on daniel&gasly (maybe because they're my favorite drivers). I saw that requests are closed and you're going under the knife (hope it goes well!) but if by any chance you want/have time to write this I'll be happy. Will be pleased with whatever you choose to do with this request.

The reader is a very normal, ordinary person. Rents a flat, has a job, meets with her friends form time to time. Nothing much. Somehow hers and the drivers paths cross. He immediately falls in love with her, she feels the attraction but after one weekend with him she understands that they're too different and it certainly won't work. So he's trying to persuade her to give them a try and she always runs away when her feelings instead of brain start to win. During intimate moments she starts to make awful jokes or act like a child, everything to not let the passion take over and the driver notices that and the seducing begins.

Would love this with dan or pierre but it's up to you.

Have a lovely day! 😊

P.S: Sorry for my English, it's not my 1st language

Romantic at Heart || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Warnings: none really, smut implied WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist

You should have been heading straight home, just like you had promised the girls after a Friday night out, but the lights had stolen your attention. At first you thought it was a firefly, a single orange glowing tail on the brick wall. Then you spotted another, but it was blue. Then one by one you noticed them dotted along the wall, all the colours of the rainbow leading the way to the riverbank in the opposite direction to your apartment. 

Curiosity had you following the path of tiny LED lights, wondering what it might lead to. The distance between each beacon grew closer until they became clusters, like little galaxies of constellations you could wish upon. A small laugh bubbled up as you skipped along to the next one with childlike excitement, so engrossed in what you were looking at that you didn’t see where you were going.

“Oh, sorry!” you apologised as you bumped into a man, his hands scrambling to catch his camera before it could hit the pavement. “Sorry, I was distracted. Is your camera okay?”

The man had recovered it without incident and smiled as he held it up. “Mind if I check?”

“Check what?” you asked as he raised it to his eye, the lens pointed in your direction.

“If it still works. Smile!”

You laughed at the man’s confidence and you heard the shutter snap the photo before he looked at the display. “Wow, that’s perfect,” he praised, waving you over. “Come look.”

You stepped closer to the man, feeling a sense of recognition though you were certain you hadn’t met him before. He angled the camera so you could see what he had captured and your lips parted in surprise. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to take a simple photo but make it art. 

The smile on your face was pure joy, and the lights behind you had distorted under the exposure and contrast to create a halo around your head. 

“You look like an angel.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered in amazement, wishing you could have a copy for yourself. 

“God?” he chuckled as he held a hand out. “Nah, you can just call me Daniel.”

You shook his hand with a laugh, feeling like it was a sound he was used to hearing from everyone he spoke to, and gave him your name in return. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Daniel started to say and you immediately began to shift uncomfortably on your feet, “but you’re beautiful, and it’s late, what are you doing out on your own?”

“Oh, I was out with my girlfriends and on my way home when I saw these and I kind of, had to, follow them…?” you trailed off and looked back at the dark path you had wandered down, less and less lights illuminating the way home. “I guess I should be going.”

Daniel followed your gaze to the darker end of the road and hated the thought of you walking it alone. Shoving his camera into his hoodie pocket, he offered his elbow. “Care for some company on this fine evening? My mother would throttle me if she knew I let a lady walk home alone at this hour.”

You chewed your lip as you debated his offer. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Only at breakfast.” You took a sudden step back and he screwed his eyes shut as he berated himself. “Sorry, sorry, terrible joke. Terrible timing. I meant Cereal Killer…because I eat cereal for breakfast…I’m sorry.���

“That is not funny,” you said despite laughing. “I watch way too many Netflix shows for that.”

His head tilted to the side and caught the colours of the leds around you as curiosity filled his playful smile. “Have you seen that Formula One show on there?”

Your nose wrinkled at the idea and shook your head. “Sports isn’t really my thing.” Trusting your gut that he was safe enough, you looped your arm in his and set off down the road. 

“Then what is your thing?”

“Books,” you admitted, suddenly shy though you had no reason to be. “My friends actually refer to my apartment as ‘the library’. If I didn’t have to work to buy more books I don’t think anyone would see me again, I would just hole up and read.”

“There’s worse ways to spend your time,” he joked with a grin you were starting to think was perpetually painted on his face.

“Yeah, I could watch Formula one.” His smile faded and his laugh puttered out, making you instantly regret the joke. “I can hardly make fun of your thing when I’ve told you mine.”

“I don’t actually watch F1,” he admitted as he stopped walking and you turned to face him. “I’m too busy racing.”

“Racing what?” 

He blinked a few times and his lip twitched with a smile when he realised you were genuinely confused. “I race cars…in F1…for McLaren.”

You waited for the punchline to come but for the first time since meeting him, he was serious. “Oh, oh! Okay…wow. I guess that’s why I felt like I recognised you, I must have seen you somewhere. God, I feel stupid.” You laughed to yourself and sighed, whispering under your breath, “you’ve been reading too much romance.”

“You’re not stupid,” Daniel said quietly. “I feel it too.”

Your laugh was an unladylike snort of disbelief. “Don’t be silly, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know my last name or what I do for work.”

“But I want to, if you’ll give me the time to learn. Not that it matters what your job is, you aren’t your work.”

“What if I’m an escort?”

“Are you an escort?”

“Would it matter?” 

He was momentarily stunned and you saw him worrying his bottom lip and he thought of an appropriate answer. 

“I’m not, but obviously it would matter,” you clarified as you turned and started your walk again. “I’m an admin assistant, not an escort, just so you know.”

“Not a librarian?” 

You smiled as you tipped your head back to the starry night. “A girl can dream, but they aren’t positions that tend to come up very often. Even less with everything going digital.”

“You could open your own library, you already have the books apparently.” 

You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you stopped outside your apartment complex. It had been easy to get lost in the conversation with him and you almost continued walking just so the evening didn’t come to an end. 

“Apparently?” you giggled as he opened the front door for you. “Do I have to prove it to you?”

He followed you to the elevator and leaned against the wall. “Is that you inviting me up?”

It was daring and absolutely unlike you but when you looked into his eyes you knew you wanted to see more of them so you found yourself asking, “Would you say yes?”

His smile grew as he reached for the elevator button in response and hit it.

Monday morning rolled around too soon and you struggled to pull yourself out of bed to get ready for work. Daniel’s back was to you as he hugged his pillow, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, and you saw the slightly raised marks of your nails over his tan skin. 

The weekend had been better than any of the fictional tales that filled the rooms in your house. You hadn’t even left the apartment, too engrossed in each other's company to face the outside world. But that would change as you climbed out of bed and started your usual Monday morning routine. 

“Good morning, angel,” Daniel greeted sweetly as he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek. 

You held up the piece of toast you were eating and let him take a bite for himself. “Can I have your number?” he asked after finishing his mouthful and watching you dart around the small kitchen, packing a little lunch to take to work.

“For what?”

“So I can give it to telemarketers,” he joked as he caught you around the waist. “No, so I can call you.”

“This weekend has been…magical, but you’re a famous race car driver, and I’m, well, just me,” you said softly. “I’m under no illusion about how this ends, Daniel, we live in two different worlds.”

“That’s just a cop out,” he argued, picking up your phone and calling himself so he had your number. “I’m going to prove you wrong.” 

Three Weeks Later “Daniel’s here to see you.” You looked up from your computer to double check Jess was talking to you and found her grinning like a fool. “I can’t believe he’s actually here.”

“Who?”

Jess reached for the half empty cup of coffee she had made you and sniffed it. “Did I give you decaf? Girl, wake up! You don’t keep a man like that waiting. The PA’s are already sniffing around him.”

Pushing your chair back, you rose at the threat of the PA’s who loved to dote upon any man who had a seven figure salary. Two of the glorified assistants longed to be on Love Island and their entire personality could fit in the extremely large breasts their ex-bosses had paid for - right before the sexual harassment charges were filed. Yeah, you weren’t going to leave Daniel to fend for himself.

Leaving the back offices, you followed the scent of knock-off Marc Jacobs to the reception area where Daniel smiled and joked with the small crowd surrounding him. You were once again struck by how different your lives were, his in the spotlight and yours anything but. It was only as you moved closer that you saw how the smile didn’t reach the creases around his eyes and heard the laugh that didn’t come from deep in his belly. 

“Alright, ladies,” you interrupted the group with a wave of your hands, “thank you for keeping Daniel company, I’ll take it from here.”

A few overly keen females pouted as they stepped away and Daniel cast a grateful smile to you before pulling out the gift he had hidden behind his back. It took a second to realise why the bouquet of roses looked strange but then the confused frown was replaced with a smile as you accepted it. Every rose was made of origami, carefully folded and shaped into the blossom and you quickly recognised the lines of Pride and Prejudice, arguably the greatest romance novel of all time.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you held the meaningful bouquet to your chest. 

Daniel was all too aware of your curious co-workers still hanging around the area and dipped his head closer to yours. “There’s this angel I’ve been missing, and I just needed to see her again.”

The gesture, the words, it all made your heart skip a beat but you quashed the feelings that arose with it. “That is stalking.”

His laugh was genuine and your smile grew when you saw his reach his eyes as he corrected you, “That is romantic.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you sniffed the paper roses. “Did you spray these with your cologne?”

“The book came from a secondhand store and it smelt like mothballs, which wasn’t the vibe I was going for. I think I smell better than mothballs.”

“Wait, you made these!” Surprise floored you as you looked at them with a new appreciation. 

“With a little help and a lot of youtube,” he grinned proudly. “I would have come sooner but it took three weeks to make them all.”

The effort he made brought tears to your eyes and you hurried to blink them away. The man was absolutely relentless in his belief that the connection between you could become something more, but you still struggled to accept it. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, no that had been instant from the moment you met, you just didn’t understand how someone as famous as him could settle for someone as plain as you.

“Surely you have better things to do with your time,” you said after swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Than thinking of ways to win your heart? No way. So…can I please take you out on a date?”

Your eyes traced the roses, scanning the lines from the pages of one of your favourite books. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Daniel made you laugh, he could always make you laugh. The late night phone calls that interrupted your reading time replaced the silence in the apartment with the sound of your laughter. But would it be enough to close the distance between your worlds?

Your eyes followed another petal and felt it resonate within: Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

“One date,” you said as you tore your eyes away from the flowers that only seemed to call to you more, begging to find more sweet sentences among the folds. “And nowhere public. I want to actually be able to talk with you, not get swarmed by fans.”

“I can do that,” he said with a wide grin before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He started to leave but he stopped as you softly called his name, looking over his shoulder from the doorway.

“Thank you for these, Daniel. No one’s ever done anything so sweet.”

“It’s just the beginning, angel,” he winked, disappearing out the door as you hid your face in the flowers that smelt just like him.

Crap, you sighed to yourself. He was worming his way into your heart, just like he planned.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

okay okay, it's a lil silly but hear me out konig + phantom of the opera au

man's got it all; need to cover his face, obsessive tendencies, and the need to be a secretive lil (big) weirdo *chef's kiss*

NO NO NO HOLD ON YOU'RE COOKIN. NOT SILLY AT ALL.

Now look here, I dunno if you know this, but I am a sucker for classic literature. One of my top three favourite books of all time is Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. That woman ate when she wrote that book and I will listen to nothing else. I also really want to write an essay about how Frankenstein is Mary Shelly discussing the inherent horror of motherhood in those times and how the lack of a mother figure shapes an individual. I think it's an extremely layered book, but I like to see the parenthood lens of the book.

Now now now, this is about Phantom of the Opera. I do know a bit about the original phantom, and I don't like to think König or reader dies in the end (just personally, I can't write a tragic ending. I really need a happy ending, not for the reader, but because I need a happy ending). So, let me introduce the idea that this is a version where the phantom wins.

This is one where the phantom was fucking right and actually, freak of nature as he is, maybe he had a point!!! Maybe, reader shouldn't be dating someone twice their age. Maybe, though König is a bit older for sure, he's actually not that old and a more appropriate age. Albeit, though now recovered, König still suffered a case of leprosy after being exposed during a war. He considers himself hideous, but maybe reader would be able to look past his sickness?

Now, is König appropriate as a lover? Probably not. He's obsessive, jealous, and a borderline stalker. He's determined to kill off the man who's trying to seduce her ('How dare you try and take my little songbird away from me!!!') and will do anything to keep reader to himself. However, he's also saving reader from a far worse fate with someone worse than him.

Reader is enchanted by Makarov of course, but König knows better and is determined to show her the light. He desperately wants to just talk to her and explain everything to her, but at this point he's committed to what he's doing and social anxiety makes him unable to just knock on her door and talk to her like a regular person.

Once again, like every incredible story in the English language, if you guys just talked everything would be fine but nobody knows how to be an adult.

Anyways, König loves reader dearly. Watching her perform makes his heart ache. His one saving grace is a beautiful voice he uses to enchant her. If his face is nothing but sickness, let him sing to his little songbird and help her connection to music. He'll do what he can to cling to any connections he has to her. He's desperate to hold her, and he'll do whatever he needs to to get to her.

IMPORTANT EDIT:

König with the phantom mask but he has two long red ribbons coming out the bottom of the eyes and the rest of his face is hidden under a dark hood. Consider it.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Im going to say this because I have been thinking it for a while now - and this isn't directed at any of your anons or anything like that. It's just me venting 😅

I'm just really tired of some people doing everything they possibly can to either see problems where there are none OR who actively try to "step on Sam's moment", if you know what I mean.

We have had 2 seasons of Louis being the main/focus character, the one we see both Lestat and Claudia through. We then find out that not only do we see them through Louis' POV but also through Armand's POV and his manipulations of Louis' POV. This is The Tale we were told to let ourselves be seduced by. Through two characters of colour. Which they did AMAZINGLY.

Everyone and their mother praises the show for being so cleverly written and for being of such high quality. Based on s1 and s2 and the memory is a monster lens. Deservedly!!! Everyone was fucking amazing and both Jacob and Assad knocked it out of the park.

But we were always meant to end up here: The Vampire Lestat. They're doing the books - and Lestat is the most prominent character in the chronicles as a whole.

What did they expect? If they dont like that, maybe this isn't a show for them.

Sam has worked so hard and it's his moment to shine and everyone on the show has always been so sooo clear about their excitement about the TVL season. Why is anyone surprised/annoyed?

Sam is so fucking sweet, he even gave an eloquent and thoughtful answer when asked about the absolute batshit crazy fandom, and he did it with such grace that many people didn't deserve. He was called such vile things and it affected his mental health. He's such a sweet person and he just deserves his "moment" showing us the real Lestat. Finally.

And Im SO glad to know that:

1) Sam is offline and decided to NOT look into fandom. Good for him ❤️

2) Rolin doesnt have any fucks to give about what some "fans" think/vitriol they spew so it wont affect the show

And with all that said:

ROCKSTAR LESTAT WRITING SONGS ABOUT HIS HUSBAND LOUIS AND WEARING HIS WEDDING RING, BABY 🔥🔥🔥😍😍😍

YESSSSSSSS 🙌

As said before - this, what is happening now - was always set to happen. It's the Vampire Chronicles!! There's BOOKs they're doing.

And now it will be "The Vampire Lestat".

And I cannot wait^^

[ratsoh-writes]

By popular request

Charms body count~ under the cut cause obviously anything to do with charm and anyone he’s not related to of legal age is gonna be suggestive

Sans: met him through G, and had a drunken night together. Sans doesn’t remember half of it but is pretty sure he had fun lol.

Star: met star when clubbing and took him home alongside sparks. Still calls them both up every now and then for a repeat experience

Red: behind a gas station as a favor for red giving charm a free cig. Red thinks back to it sometimes wondering how he got talked into that

Edge: he’s good friends with rhythm who’s friends with sugar, and through that edge has seen charm around. He actually took charm out on a date once. It was a fun night but edge definitely isn’t interested in any romance with charm now lol

Mal: took a bet from cash that mal couldn’t seduce the first person to walk into his shop that morning. It was charm.

Cash: his bestie is a mafia and charm has gone through nearly the whole family there lol. So naturally cash was gonna cross his path at some point. They still hook up sometimes when the mood strikes

Mutt: they met at a bar, and mutt punched out a guy who was harassing charm. It had nothing to do with charm, he just didn’t like that guys voice, but charm thought it was a kind gen’s tire and decided to take mutt home for the night lol.

Rhythm: he’s one of sugars besties, so rhythm sees charm all the time. It was just bound to happen at some point

Snipe: charm buys him smokes sometimes, snipes just returning the favor~

Bruiser: he wanted to see what the hype was about after hearing a little bit of the gossip from ace. So bruiser approached charm first. He’s his favorite booty call now

Ace: he originally was gonna stab charm for finding out slims identity, but the evening was so good that ace mentally gave charm a free pass to come back anytime~

Slim: he was the first mafia charm seduced, and charm didn’t even know he was butch’s brother until months later lol. They met at a game store originally

Boss: got sick of charm always bugging his bros and decided to try and scare him off. Wound up waking up in his bed later on mad at himself for falling for the same tricks.

G: he considers charm a good friend as well as a fwb. They just vibe. G always calls charm up first on heat week

Orion: met charm through mutt of all people, pretty much propositioned him immediately just to see the tattoo mutt told him about lol

Peaches: delivered a pie order to charms home cause his mom is racist against lust monsters, and charm decided that he wanted a slice of peaches pie too. Charm is peaches favorite city slicker lol

Rancher: he bench pressed charm once at a festival to show off. Charm was very impressed~ so he had rancher bench pressed him again in his car in the parking lot. They’re lucky they didn’t get caught

Barley: when charm goes to visit lush and pepper in Corncopia, he loves seeing the bar barleys family owns. Barleys been convinced to ditch his shift with charm a couple of times lol

Lush/pepper/sparks/salt/flambe/weasel: they’re good friends and fellow lust monsters who aren’t in committed relationship. Things happen.

Butler/pesto/flambe: brothers/close to two of his lust monster friends and they work in a brothel? Cmon

Roost: another festival hook up that left very satisfied~ roost wishes so bad he had gotten charms number

Lens: lens is a hoe when he’s drunk, and he’s seen charm quite a bit as he hangs with G a lot. They’re regular drinking and hook up buddies

Cricket: has a fwb thing going on with bruiser and bruiser brought charm along once. Was a bit too many people for cricket but hey, he had to try it at least once

Hilda: made friends with charm at a sparring match they were both watching. She was rather enamored with him and got him a couple drinks. She was a little put off when he told her he didn’t want anything serious though so hasn’t bothered to call back

Arwin: he was hired to ward the bridal boutique sugar works at after a break in one summer. Charm was dropping off lunch to his brother, took one look at the Drake skeleton and talked his way into arwins pants within an hour lol

Hook: triple teamed charm with two of his crew mates after he approached them while they were on one of their shore leaves. Had a great time~

Captain: when he caught charm doing his walk of shame off the ship after that night with hook and the two other crew mates, charm managed to convince captain to redirect him to the captains room first~

Partner: he was originally gonna ticket charm for some disorderly conduct at a farmers market, but charm managed to sweet talk his way out of it, and into the sheriffs trailer instead~

Foxglove: she met charm in hotland with sugar during one of her breaks from an expedition. They spent a lovely weekend together at some of the attractions. They’re long distance friends now and sometimes send each other memes and naughty pictures randomly

Periwinkle: she met charm in hotland at the same time as foxy of course. She had a grand time with him and sugar. She gets weird cravings for cupcakes now during heat week though. Peri doesn’t bother texting him like foxy does, but will occasionally tell her sister to relay that she said hi

Victoria: as a friend of the mafias, she and charm have definitely crossed paths. And she enjoyed every encounter~ he’s fun to play with

Magma: was a random hookup in hotland, and the best experience magma ever had. If she ever sees charm again, she’ll for sure try to tap him twice lol.

Seth: charm thought Seth was pretty exotic looking when he saw him in the city. Plus the guy was scowling hard and needed something to smile about~ so a few sweet words later and Seth was won over ;) charm didn’t get a smile though lol

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Masterlist

Hi, I'm impale-me-radio-daddy, otherwise known as Big Antler Steve, The Antlers Guy, a pun or play on words, alright mate, and, in exceptional circumstances, oh no. Contrary to popular belief, I am not the acclaimed self-insert author cocksleeve4deerman69- we are in fact entirely different entities.

But enough about me, here's a list of things I've written, for your amusement and elucidation.

The Lookalike (completed series)

☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis, then into the arms of the Radio Demon himself.

☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, crying!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit sexual content, reader is in Hell for a reason, reader x Alastor, reader x Vox, Valentino, canon typical scenarios, Vox-based voyeurism, minor use of aphrodisiacs, tentacle sex, Vox in a cuck chair, erotic cannibalism, Alastor x reader x Vox threesome in the finale.

☒ Length: 43k words total

☒ Series links: Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

☒ Bonus vignettes: Hoof trimming, Lucifer seducing (slight AU)

Reddest Flags, Longest Nights (one-shot)

⩙ Summary: The year is 1989. The Berlin Wall has fallen, and Nintendo have just overseen the release of the Game Boy. The first ever episode of Baywatch has just aired, and Ted Bundy has just been executed by electric chair. Vox's relationship with the Radio Demon is on the rocks. Their solution? To add a third person to their bedroom: you

⩙ Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Vox X reader X Alastor, Radiostatic is a committed relationship (well, they're trying), Reader is a girl and she has a pussy, tentacle sex

⩙ Length: 5.5k words

⩙ Other notes: This is set in a sexy alternate universe for the characters in @bapple117's Bluest Monday

Return to Radio Hall (one-shot)

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that an alternate universe, once conceptualised, must be in want of a fic.

⚜Summary: Having made his fortune in the New World, Vox Vee returns to visit his former benefactor, Lord Alastor.

⚜Pairings: Vox/Alastor

⚜Length: 2.1k words

⚜Content Notes: Unrequited love, Regency era AU, depiction of illness

The Alibi (I have a couple ideas for continuation, but stand-alone for now)

⚜ Pairing: human!Alastor X reader

⚜ Content notes: Reader is a sex worker, Alastor is a serial killer, brief reference to domestic abuse and injury, explicit sexual content, reader is a woman, reader has a pussy, bathtime, cum pooling in the collarbones, the sex is transactional but not like that.

⚜ Wordcount: 4.5k words

In Your Dreams, Old Pal (4-part story with an epilogue in the comments)

⛃ Pairing: Alastor/Vox

⛃ Summary: Alastor had never wanted to murder anyone as badly as he wanted to murder the version of Alastor that Vox dreamed of. The creature was, put simply, a simpering, effete idiot.

They were in a high class restaurant in some part of the states Alastor didn’t recognize, all art deco paneling and chandeliers that glowed a soft gold, the kind of lighting that made every patron look like they were being filmed through a Vaseline smeared lens; good skin, bright eyes. Even Alastor was pressed to admit it was a classy joint. Why Vox was dreaming of taking Alastor here was anyone's guess.

Alastor intrudes on the dreams of his friend and assistant, Vox.

⛃ Content notes: Explicit sexual content, dream sex, wet dreams, jizz in their pants, extremely dubious consent, virginity??, church sex, creampie, bottom Alastor, bottom Vox, incidental cannibalism, not much antler stuff.

⛃ Word count: 18k

Nothing Above the Knee (one-shot)

⪫ Pairing: Alastor/Vox (Radiostatic)

⪫ Wordcount: 4k

⪫ Summary: Alastor wants something from Vox. All Vox asks in return is a few hours with Alastor's hooves.

⪫ Content notes: Explicit sexual content, hoof stuff, contractual obligation, interdigital scent gland play, hoof licking, hoof fucking, electrostimulation, Vox is very much on top here, did I mention this is about hooves?

Heaven Spent (Part 1/2)

℣ Pairing: Vox X angelic!reader

℣ Summary: A naïve angel descends to Hell looking for her best friend Vagina. Finds Vox instead.

℣ Content notes: Voyeurism, first time for everything, explicit sexual content, thigh riding, guided masturbation, Vox being Vox, pet names: mostly sweetheart, babydoll and baby, reader is a girl, reader has a pussy and tits, reader has a name and it's a fucking stupid one.

℣ Word count: 6.5k

[arkashas]

tbh will not loving hannibal but desiring him and being conflicted about his attraction to him - in every sense of the situation here seems not impossible. After all bedalia was emphasising how hannibal was deep distracted by him but he seems to be more simmering in rage and vengeance for having been seduced and letting his shell of humanity die out

sorry anon, I disagree. and i'm going to get in depth into why i disagree. verrry in depth. first we gotta examine the whole show through a narrative lens.

it's hammered into us the whole show that hannibal and will are mirror images of each other. and that's also true for the respective arcs/journeys they each undergo.

take for example, season 1 and season 2. season 1 is about will allowing hannibal to see him and being manipulated and betrayed by hannibal. season 2 is about hannibal allowing will to see him and then being manipulated and betrayed by will. season 3 is actually two seasons condensed into one, because the show was cancelled and they didn't have the budget to stretch the whole thing into two seasons. that means season 3a and season 3b follow the same formula as season 1 and season 2, with the two seasons being reflections of each other.

season 3a is the season where hannibal tries to live without will, and fails. he absconds with bedelia, then slowly realises his life is empty without will and tries to get him back. but, at the same time, he also realizes how terrifying his love for will is for him, because it causes him to "betray" himself, i.e. lose the control he's always had over his emotions and his life, and this is terrifying to someone like hannibal.

dolce is the episode where both hannibal and will want separation from each other for different reasons. hannibal because as stated, will upended his life and makes him lose control, and will because his magnetic attraction to hannibal makes him feel and act like a murderer, as chiyoh helps him understand.

it's hannibal who almost succeeds in this when he saws open will's head, but he's interrupted by mason verger. later at the verger estate, when alana sets him free, hannibal still has an opportunity to let will die and save his own life. and he doesn't take it. he chooses to save will, mowing down like 13 of mason's associates to get him. he risks getting caught tucking him into bed, and then gives up his freedom for will.

all of this is hannibal making a decisive choice. it's him realising will is more important to him than anything else in his life. remember what he says to dolarhyde about reba?

he's talking from experience. he's no longer worried about feeling love for will, he wants him alive. because will is more important to him than his self control, than his comfort, than his luxuries, than his freedom. everything.

so that was hannibal's attempt at rejecting his feelings for will and then him subsequently giving in to his feelings for will. a self contained arc within the show.

as I mentioned, hannibal and will are on twin journeys, which means will will follow the same arc as hannibal.

just like how hannibal runs off with bedelia, will marries molly, but he's unfulfilled and secretly longs for more. will giving up his perfect life of fishing and dogs and choosing to go back to the "madness" hannibal warns him about in his letter mirrors hannibal getting fed up of his perfect life in florence of art and dinner parties and wrecking it in favour of will's company.

will's attempt at killing hannibal was stopped by chiyoh, just like how hannibal's attempt at killing will was stopped by mason. so will trying to get hannibal killed at dolarhyde's hands is the actual attempt at separation that mirrors hannibal having an opportunity to let will get killed by mason and cordell, and just like hannibal tried to kill will because he makes him "betray himself", will tries to kill hannibal because, once again, he was sucked into hannibal's orbit, and that led to the attack on molly and walter and chilton's immolation. hannibal brings out the "enemy inside" that will tries so hard to repress.

and finally, will saving hannibal from dolarhyde mirrors hannibal saving will from mason and cordell.

WHICH MEANS, in TWOTL, will is now at that stage hannibal arrived at in digestivo. where he's no longer worrying about his love for hannibal, and is choosing to have him alive. when hannibal asks him, "save yourself, kill them all?" he answers with this:

this quote is further put into context by what will says to hannibal in su-zakana:

will doesn't know if he can be saved from being who hannibal perceives him to be - a killer. in a more literal way, he's also saying he doesn't know if he can kill hannibal and dolarhyde to save himself from hannibal's influence and from certain death at dolarhyde's hands. and he says, maybe that's just fine. when he saves hannibal from dolarhyde, kills dolarhyde together with hannibal, and goes over the cliff with hannibal, he's made a choice. it's no longer a maybe. he's accepted he can't live without hannibal and be without him. he's given in. he's given up everything for hannibal just as hannibal did for him.

and when he killed dolarhyde with hannibal, that was the greatest moment of will's life. will finally understand what hannibal wanted to show him all along - and he says it's beautiful. is he mad his humanity died out? well yeah, but he's never felt this fulfilled. it's something worth giving up his humanity for. will also can't really stay mad at hannibal, no matter how hard he tries, and in TWOTL i never got the sense he was simmering with anger and hatred. all i see from him is resignation. and finally, relief and acceptance.

so at the end of season 3, will has realised he can't kill hannibal by proxy - he couldn't watch hannibal get killed by dolarhyde. he can't kill hannibal with his own hands - he tried in dolce, it failed, and the whole reason he co-opted dolarhyde into his plans was because he knew he wouldn't be able to finish the job personally. he couldn't even keep away from hannibal while hannibal was in prison, which was an attempt at separation without having to kill hannibal.

the cliff dive becomes will's last and final attempt at separation, and since it's confirmed they live, he no longer has other choices open to him. all that's left is making peace with his love for hannibal and trying to build a life with him. which is what season 4 would have been about, will diving headlong into his life with hannibal and whatever it entails. and given how fuller and co. have spoken about that season, the plot seems to be about will's mind fracturing and possibly entering alternate realities to deal with the murder husband identity while he's on the run with hannibal. and season 5 is when will is apparently happy, so I think they're somehow going to reconcile will's darker side with his lighter side. somehow!

I think I went off on a tangent here, but this is why will continuing to fight his feelings for hannibal, resenting him and trying to kill him, etc. doesn't make sense to me post season 3. it would be played out. it would be frustrating when we've already seen 3 seasons of will denying hannibal and himself. and lastly and most importantly, it wouldn't fit the narrative arc set up.

remember, hannibal never diverts after he gives in to his feelings for will. he doesn't hurt will again even when will threatens his sense of control (except emotionally) - he sends dolarhyde to the cabin when will isn't home. he agrees to the plan to fake his escape even while expressing doubts to alana about his own safety and telling jack he's aware will will wreak vengeance on him as the lamb of god. he let's will threaten him with getting killed by dolarhyde and doesn't do anything when he's shot until will makes a move himself.

so that's why i don't agree with hugh dancy that will wasn't motivated by being in love with hannibal in season 3, whether he meant that will wasn't aware of the love, whether will wasn't acting on the love, or whether will wasn't accepting of the love. will's own words and actions show he is aware of his feelings for hannibal, at least by TWOTL. will leaving everything in his life behind to bring about hannibal's escape, saving him from dolarhyde, and then embracing him and going over the cliff is him acting on that love and him accepting that love.

you can't say "will was on a personal journey, realising things about himself, and that was more important than his relationship with hannibal" because will's relationship with hannibal is will's relationship with his darkness and desires. you can't separate the two of them.

[moanologue]

Under Watch

Chapter 1 - You Never Look Up at the Camera, Do You, Babe? / POV: Danny

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼ @xiaokuer-schmetterling for you btw

There’s something deeply, profoundly wrong with me. No, seriously. This isn’t self-deprecating humor or me trying to charm my way out of a psych eval. I’m sprawled on my couch shirtless, because air-conditioning is for people who can afford to care and watching Steve McGarrett eat pineapple out of a Tupperware on his lanai like he’s auditioning for my personal damnation. His lips taunt the urge in me, every bite slow, like he’s savoring more than just fruit. Baby, it’s alright, take a minute. The words slither through my head, unbidden, as I watch him lean back, his throat working, the moonlight catching the edge of his jaw. And the worst part? I set up the camera. I know the angle, the grainy glow of the sodium streetlight bleeding through his blinds, the way his shoulder muscles ripple when he chews. This isn’t voyeurism anymore. This is a subscription service to my own ruin. Prime-time. With reruns. And I’m the only idiot paying for it. Jesus Christ. Who even am I? Somewhere between "Detective Sergeant" and "covert pervert spiraling into a moral abyss," I lost the plot. The show’s off the rails. I’m the train, the tracks, and the fucking wreck. McGarrett flexes his jaw as he chews, and it’s like a seismic event in my chest. That jaw’s been the epicenter of at least six of my recent existential meltdowns. Just one taste, it’s true. I can almost feel it, the sharp edge of his stubble against my skin, the heat of his breath. “Hnnngh—” The low and desperate sound rips out of me, my fingers digging into the couch cushions like they’ll keep me from falling apart. Here’s the real kick in the teeth: I think he knows.  Because who the hell wears that threadbare tank top, sits in that exact chair angled perfectly for my lens, and gazes into the distance like he’s posing for a sniper’s wet dream? He’s seducing me with every careless flex, every shift of his hips. He knows I watch. And he never looks up.

He never, ever looks up at the fucking camera.

Not when he’s stretching, his body taut like a bowstring, muscles pulling tight under sweat-slick skin. Not when he’s doing pushups, each rep a slow, controlled tease, sweat gleaming like it’s been choreographed. Not when he’s in the shower, door cracked just enough to be a felony, water tracing paths I want to follow with my hands. My hands on your body. I groan again, louder this time, a ragged “Nngh—” that feels like it’s torn from my soul. God. I’m breathing through my nose like I’m trying to keep my soul from jumping ship, but it’s not working. My dick’s half-hard, and my hand’s already on my thigh, because this is my life now. Wednesdays are for case files, and Fridays are for surveillance-fueled descents into madness. My therapist would’ve had a field day with this. Too bad I ghosted her after she started asking, “Have you ever felt unsafe around your partner?” Partner. Ha. If Steve McGarrett’s my partner, I’m fucked. Literally. Emotionally. Cosmically.

Okay. Okay, focus.

The screen flickers, a glitch in the feed that makes my heart lurch. Did he move? Did the camera die? No, there he is - getting up, tank top riding up to expose a sliver of tanned skin. Shorts loose, hanging low, like they’re daring gravity to let them fall. A beauty savant, all I would want. Oh. wait, is he— Uh, no. He’s not. He’s just pulling his hair back, fingers raking through it slow, deliberate, like he’s sculpting himself for my gaze. He’s looking in the direction of the camera. Not at it. Never at it. But close enough to make my pulse stutter. Don’t blink. Don’t breathe. His eyes don’t meet the lens, but his mouth, God, that mouth curves. Just a fraction. Just enough to say, I know you’re there. Just enough to carve my sanity into ribbons. My hand’s under the waistband of my sweats before I can stop it. Pathetic. I should be arrested. I’m a cop. I should cuff myself and read my own Miranda rights. However I just sit here, watching him glide into the hallway. The hallway where the other camera waits. Yeah. I’ve got more than one. You thought this was a one-camera shitshow? Please. I’m a professional disaster. I scroll. New feed. McGarrett’s moving toward the kitchen, barefoot, steps silent on the hardwood. His pace is slow. There’s no reason to move like that unless you want to be watched. The thought burns through me, and I’m gripping the edge of the couch, my knuckles white. “Hnnngh—” Another groan, low and guttural, as he leans against the counter, the dim light casting shadows across his collarbone. He pours a glass of water, the liquid catching the light. His throat bobs as he drinks, slow, measured, like he’s savoring something I can’t taste. But Steve, I crave all of you. I’m drowning in it, the way his fingers grip the glass, the way his lips part just enough to let the water slip through. I imagine those lips on me, that grip on my skin, and another “Mmmph—” escapes, my voice cracking with the weight of it. My apartment’s dark, the only light coming from the laptop screen and the faint red glow of the smoke alarm across the room. I haven’t checked if it’s blinking in a while. I should. But I don’t. Because if I look away from Steve, I might miss something: a glance, a gesture, a crack in the facade that proves he’s doing this on purpose. He sets the glass down, and then he does something new. Something that makes my breath catch in my throat. He picks up his phone. His thumb hovers over the screen, and for one paralyzing second, I think he’s going to call me. My phone’s right there on the coffee table, silent, mocking. I stare at it, willing it to stay dark, because if it rings, if he’s calling me while I’m watching him like this, I don’t know what I’ll do.

But he doesn’t call.

He just types something, his face unreadable, and sets the phone down. Face-up. The screen glows faintly, and I can’t see what he wrote, but I know it’s not for me. Or maybe it is. Maybe it’s a test. Maybe he’s texting someone else to see if I’ll break, if I’ll pick up my own phone and reveal what I’m doing. T to the I, to the E-D. Tied up in you, Steve. I’m tied up in you, and you fucking know it. My fingers hover over my phone, itching to check if he sent something, and I don’t move. I can’t. Not yet. The screen flickers again as he puts the phone down and turns, his movements languid, almost performative. He grabs a dish towel, slings it over his shoulder, and starts wiping the counter slowly, methodical, like he’s carving out space in my head. His forearm flexes, the veins rising like a roadmap to sin, and I let my eyes drift lower, to where his wrist disappears into the fabric, to where— “Fuck me…” I whisper to the screen, because saying it out loud feels like it’ll make it real. Like he’ll hear it through the feed, through the air, through the sick, warped tether that connects us now. He pauses, mid-motion, and tilts his head, I thought he’s listening to something. The silence in his house is deafening, even through the feed. My apartment’s no better, just the hum of the laptop fan and the distant wail of a siren outside, too far to matter. I lean closer, my breath shallow, the air in my living room thick with the weight of my own guilt. Did I make a sound? Is the mic on? No, I’m not that careless. I check the settings every night, a ritual to ward off my own destruction. But the way he’s standing there - it’s like he’s listening for me. I switch to the living room feed, desperate for a reprieve from the kitchen’s suffocating intimacy. Big mistake. He’s back on the lanai now, sprawled in that damn chair, legs spread wide, one arm draped over the backrest like he’s daring me to look. He’s holding a book, a battered paperback he’s never once opened in all the nights I’ve watched him. It’s a prop, I’m sure of it. A prop in this twisted play he’s staging for me. Can’t wait, cut ‘em loose. I’m cut loose, Steve. I’m free-falling, and you’re the gravity pulling me down. He stares out at the ocean, or maybe at nothing, his fingers drumming a slow, deliberate rhythm on the armrest. The rhythm stops. He shifts, just slightly, and the tank top rides up again, exposing a strip of skin that catches the moonlight. I bite my lip, tasting blood, and my hand’s back where it shouldn’t be. “Mmm—” The sound’s louder this time, I’m choking on my own desire. I’m not fighting it anymore. I’m too far gone for that.

But then something new. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small object, too small for the camera to catch clearly. A coin, maybe? A lighter? He rolls it between his fingers, the motion hypnotic, and I’m transfixed, my heart pounding like I’m the one being toyed with. He doesn’t look at it. Doesn’t need to. His eyes stay fixed on the horizon, but the way he’s playing with that object. Uuuugh, can you just have me in your hands, instead of this coin? I open the bedroom feed, because apparently I hate myself. The room’s empty, of course 'cause he’s still on the lanai, still taunting me with his existence. But the sight of his bed: sheets tangled, pillow dented from the weight of his head, feels like a violation. Like I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross. I imagine him there, stretched out, one arm flung over his head, the other… elsewhere. My on your body. I imagine my hands there instead, tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the pulse under his ribs. “Aah—” The groan’s involuntary, a low rumble in my chest, and I’m gripping the edge of the couch again, my nails biting into the fabric. The lanai feed pings - a motion alert. I snap back to it, my pulse spiking. He’s standing now, stretching, his body a silhouette against the night sky. The tank top lifts, revealing that infuriating strip of skin again, and I’m done for. He turns, slow, deliberate, and for one gut-wrenching second, I’m convinced he’s going to look right at the camera. Right at me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he pauses, his head tilted slightly. He reaches up, adjusts the smoke detector, the one hiding my camera and my heart stops. He doesn’t touch the lens, doesn’t expose it, but his fingers linger, brushing the casing like he’s caressing it. Like he’s caressing me.  I’m a mess, my breath hitching, my hand trembling as it hovers over my lap. Then he walks inside, leaving the lanai empty, the chair still warm from his body. The feed goes quiet, and I’m left staring at a blank screen, my entire existence balanced on a knife’s edge.

I don’t know how long I sit there, the afterimage of him burned into my eyes. The apartment feels smaller now, the walls pressing in, the air thick with the stench of my own obsession. My phone buzzes on the coffee table, and I flinch like I’ve been shot. The screen lights up, a single notification glowing in the dark. It’s from him.

“You working late again, Danno? Get some sleep.”

No emojis. No context. Just those words. My fingers hover over the reply button, but I don’t type anything. I can’t. Because what do you say to the man you’re spying on when he’s already got you pinned? I close the laptop, but the darkness doesn’t help. It’s too late for that. The cameras are still running, still recording, and I know I’ll check the footage tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. Because this sick, secret game is the only thing keeping me tethered to him. And I’m not strong enough to cut the cord. Before I crawl into bed, I do something stupid. I pull up the footage from last week, the night he came home late, blood on his knuckles, shirt torn. He didn’t shower that night. Just sat on the lanai, staring at the ocean, his face unreadable. I watched him for hours, waiting for something to break, but he just sat there, still as stone, like he was daring me to ask. I didn’t. I never do. But tonight, I rewind to that moment, freeze the frame on his face. There’s a bruise on his cheekbone, and his eyes, they’re not looking at the ocean. They’re looking somewhere else. Somewhere I can’t see. And for the first time, I wonder if I’m not the only one playing this game. If maybe, just maybe, he’s playing it better. ‘Cause I’m going to love you, baby. And God help me, I’m letting him.