#but i also love that even if there were no visual effects i would still 100% believe she was channeling

[nervouspearl]

Show runner Rafe Judkins on Rosamund Pike in The Wheel of Time

[creatingblackcharacters]

“Why’s she so rude?” (She’s Not)- Stereotypes, pt2

So I'm sure that you all thought I was going to give a blow-by-blow list of "visual stereotypes to avoid". I'm going to be honest here, I thought about it, and figured it would be redundant. My page already includes sensitivity on depicting Black people. So instead, I'm going to focus on stereotypical "character" concepts, so that you can 1) not write it in your stories and/or 2) recognize it in media (fiction and reality!) and in life!

Two major resources: the Jim Crow Museum website is an EXCELLENT resource to understand the imagery of antiblack racism in U.S. history and society. The other, White Tears, Brown Scars by Ruby Hamad. The book focuses on the many racist stereotypes projected onto women of color and how that purposeful, systemic negative perception of us bleeds into every aspect of our lives- specifically by white women/white feminists who believe that they are not contributing to said oppression.

I'll start with Black women, just because I’m passionate about it (obviously) and there are so many things I wish I had and hadn’t seen growing up. We deserve better by the year of our lord 2024.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: mention of sexual assault, assault

Misogynoir

What I want everyone to understand, before I get into this, is the concept of intersectionality, and more specifically, misogynoir. Misogynoir is the specific type of contempt and prejudice that Black women face at the intersection of race and gender. I say this because you might read these things and go “oh, as a woman, I experience these things!” I get it, but I want you to PAUSE, and remember, that right now, we are talking about Black women’s experiences. And those will often be different, due to that intersection of identities. And that understanding will have an effect on how you understand (and thus, write) those experiences.

The Jezebel

The link goes into much deeper detail, but the Jezebel is the idea that a Black woman or girl who is sexual is somehow “fast”, “salacious”, “a hoe”, “driven by desire/doesn’t understand purity”, and at its worst, unable to be r*ped/a victim because she is less valuable yet somehow inherently seductive to men.

This gets thrown around CONSTANTLY in media and life for Black women (my first experience of treated like I was ‘fast’ was when I was like… twelve?) One major, visible example is Megan Thee Stallion. Meg has a college degree, she likes anime, she’s a brilliant rapper, and has an entire personality and struggles she’s shared… But she also likes to dress scantily clad and have sex. By doing those things, she ‘lessened in value’. And because of this, when she was shot at and assaulted, even Black people questioned her character, rather than understanding that she could have been anyone, and she still wouldn’t have deserved to be assaulted. She's not allowed to be multi-faceted; she "brought it on herself".

Black girls and women who happen to take charge of their own sexuality, to the discomfort of society, are treated as Jezebels- as whores. Think about it- if one of Taylor Swift's recent boyfriends shot at her, would the media question her value or her word? Question her equivalently high ‘body count’?

Question how you write your Black woman- she can enjoy sex! She can be sexy! We love to see it! But if you're punishing her specifically, or judging her within the narrative, versus your other characters who are allowed to safely explore and act upon their sexuality… Check your judgment! Why do you feel the way you do about this character? Why do you think that your Black character is the one that should be judged for her actions. Would you feel this way if it were a nonblack character?

The Sapphire/Angry Black Woman

Ohohoho, I have infinite amounts of feelings about this one.

This is the "sassy Black friend", the "aggressive Black boss", “step on me angry mommy”, the one who does the z formation and makes everyone "uncomfortable". She’s not allowed to be confident, assertive, or self-assured- she’s arrogant, rude, and aggressive.

I discussed it in part one, but I'll reemphasize it: your Black woman doesn't have to be an ‘Angry Black Woman’ in order to be angry! Just like any other human being on the planet, we are allowed to be mad. (In my honest opinion, we have a lot to be mad about, but I digress 😅)

If the only character that ever gets angry is your Black character, I want you to consider why. What is she angry at? Was this something you wanted the reader to understand or empathize with? Are we supposed to disagree? How does everyone around her treat her anger? Is her anger righteous? Is she always shut down or dismissed for it? Is it only meant to defend her friends, but never herself? Does the narrative suggest that it’s only good in use of others and not herself? Would this be the same reaction if one of the nonblack characters was angry? Is this something you did on purpose?

Very often, we're called 'angry Black women/girls' to invalidate our emotions. My therapist once said anger is a protective emotion. We might be hurt, overstimulated, sad, depressed, frightened, anxious… But we are often not allowed the grace of others digging deeper to see that. Even if the other characters do not understand her anger, even if her motives are not meant to be understood at the moment… you as the writer should be aware. But if every time it’s time to show anger or upset, it’s your Black character… consider why this is the one you thought would best convey that message, and how your Black readers might feel seeing that this character (who may not even be the ‘bad guy’) is the one that is ‘only’ angry. No other development, no other emotions, just… there to be mad.

I take this one to heart, as someone who feels very passionately about things… this is one of those things where I wish, in life and in media, people would have more grace for Black women. We're human, too. We have feelings, too.

The Mammy

This one isn’t as visually blatant anymore in media as it was in the past (like every Mammy doesnt look like Aunt Jemima), but you may have seen this one as "the mommy figure". The "lesbian that parents the silly gay boys". The one that’s always encouraging the ship of the white boys, but never the one allowed to be in the ship (especially when her ship is canon!)

A good example of this was how people expected Jessica Drew from ATSV to be "more loving" to Gwen, rather than the mentor and boss she was (plus, as a Black woman with a Black mother… trust and believe, she was quite direct and gentle). And in comparison to her counterpart, white man Peter B. Parker, was decried far worse for similar detrimental actions.

The Mammy often serves in opposition to the Jezebel and Sapphire/Angry Black Woman. What makes the Mammy particularly annoying is that it implies that the only good Black woman character is a ‘nice’, demure, unthreatening, homely, motherly figure whose job it is to make sure to center the (usually) white ones. The Mammy is expected to coddle everyone, to her own detriment. She's a ‘good Black’ because she causes no issue, raises no fuss, never shows a negative feeling, knows that she has to ‘be strong’ but to always defer because the white characters know best. She’s ‘not a threat’, and that’s why she’s ‘allowed’ to be around. We shouldn’t have to be those things in order for our stories to be heard and understood, in order to be empathized with or treated like someone of value.

The Strong Black Woman

If I never hear this phrase again in my life, if we eradicate it from future generations for Black girls and women, I'll cry of joy lmao. I hate it, and it's not for the reasons most nonblack people would expect. Lord, this one. Anyway. The ‘strong Black woman’ is meant to protect everyone, no help needed! Whenever something is wrong and we all need a pickup, here she comes to ‘let me do it’ and everything is going to be okay! She did all the necessary suffering so that your characters don't have to! She can sweep in and save the day!

Now here's the dissonance kicks in. This one on its surface probably sounds like a good thing. She's a hero! She’s resilient! She's great! Who wouldn't want to be superwoman? Who wouldn't want to reject being a love interest, all women are always love interests! Let us be the badass that kicks ass and shows the men what for! Who wouldn’t want that, 24/7?!

The answer: US. 👍🏾🤣

This is a long, separate conversation on its own, but we have to understand that Black women (women of color, really) and White women do not always share the same end goals and understanding of "strong woman character" or even feminism. We certainly aren't always the love interest. Very usually not, in fact. We are always pushed to the side. We are already the hero in our lives, we're already the "strong woman".

Not everyone yearns to be the Singular Hero who will Fix It All as many of us are already expected to do. It's exhausting having to swallow your own needs for everyone else all the time, especially when it's suggested that you have no value otherwise if you don't. Heroism is Exhausting, and it's something worth looking into when you’re characterizing your Black girls and women. I’m not saying that we can’t be strong! We are, and it’s impressive! But I also want us to add some nuance to that strength, the way we would for any other character. What it means to have community, rather than to do it all alone. How even if she wants to be the hero (and that’s okay! That’s fine!) how it would still wear on her. Surrounding your Black girl character with unconditional support, to have a lover that actually wants to pull some weight- that's something many of us actually would like to see, because we're usually shafted to the side as 'someone who can do it all herself' (in order to hide that no one thinks we need or are deserving of the help).

It's okay to let your Black woman and girls show weakness, to rest, to be taken care of! It's not "less feminist" to accept that we're humans that need help and can't carry it all, too. That it’s okay to want to feel valued and protected. Because god knows, I wish I didn’t grow up strong and resilient, I wish I grew up knowing that the world cared that I was safe.

Standards of Beauty

These standards are not the same! I've mentioned it before in my lesson on skin tones, but very often when we think of "beauty", it’s easy to fall into the idea of whiteness. Pale skin, thin hair textures, etc. If those are our existing standards of beauty, then it doesn’t matter what any of us look like- we’re ugly! When I was in high school, I remember a classmate saying that Swedish people were the most beautiful people because of "white hair and pale skin". Without even meaning to, that guy basically said everyone darker than a stack of loose leaf printer paper was ugly by proxy of not being Nordic White (no matter how pretty they actually might be!!) 🤣

It’s also of note that whiteness/paleness tends to be connected with innocence and cleanliness in western culture, while blackness/darkness tends to be considered dirty, sinful, fearful. Now, while the origin of this idea may not be racist itself, when you spend hundreds of years implying that Blackness is bad- to the point that, in the U.S. they came up with an entire slur one step past “negro” (meaning ‘Black’) to deem you less than- it’s hard to say that the societal connotation didn’t apply.

Now we've already discussed working on describing our Black characters better! I continually remind you all that you should be describing them as wonderfully made as you do your white characters. Keep in mind that we live in a world where from day one when we enter the world, Blackness and Black features are not seen as beautiful nor emphasized. Whiteness is the standard of beauty that we, for a long time and still, are expected to adhere to. If you'd like to do better by your characters, remember that you don't have to give them "white features" or use "white" as an adjective to do that!

Black Women as Women

“There was literally nothing, not a thing, that a white woman could ever have that was worth more than her sexual virtue, and this obligated mandatory chasteness and sexual vulnerability… If the most important thing a woman has is virtue, and only white women can have virtue, then by definition, only white women can be women.” Ruby Hamad, ‘Only White Women Can Be Damsels’, White Tears, Brown Scars

Often, Black women by definition are not included under the societal banner of “women”, from our features, to our personalities, to our 'role' in life. "True Womanhood" is denied us, cis and trans, because of our Blackness. The things that make women ‘women’, we are not included under, because systemically, the only ‘women’ that were meant to mean anything were white.

I bring up Megan Thee Stallion again. Meg is probably one of the most beautiful, feminine women I've ever seen in my life. Men still call her a man, due to her height, due to her confidence, and due to their insecurities. Same with Serena Williams; Serena is damn near built like a god in my eyes. She was told she was manly from the beginning of her career, no matter how beyond skilled she was in women's tennis. Even when she damn near died giving birth- the most basic of 'tasks' women are seen as having in this society, it didn't matter. Black women are 'less womanly', 'less valuable', 'less in need' of that protection and identity that society swears Women™ need (and not in the honest way that we do need protection).

Consider that you're making sure that your Black women have the options of range of gender expression and emotions (and if they aren't allowed to, is that on purpose). If you're only ever creating us and we're in service of some dainty white woman and never the other way around... consider how that may reflect what you think our role is in your story, and in your mind.

Adultification

“Awkward moment when Rue is some black girl and not the innocent blond girl you imagine.” twitter: sw4q

It has been shown that Black girls the same age as their white girl counterparts are deemed older and less in need of protection, and supposed to 'be more mature'. Imagine that. Deemed inherently less innocent, due to your skin color. Having to parent our siblings, get jobs to contribute, do all the cleaning, and more. Yet, when we act with the maturity that we've been forced to grow into, we're "fast". A little 12-year-old girl, now to society, the Jezebel. All because she wanted to try pink lip gloss or wear a skirt; things that little tween girls might try to understand the big world around them and push boundaries. Now she's a woman, now she can never be a victim. Now she can be beat on and hurt and it's her fault.

I explain this for two reasons: One, for you to think about how your write your Black girls, and Two, for you to hold more grace for Black girls- real and fake. Do you hold her to a higher standard than your white characters of similar age? Does she inherently seem less innocent to you for reasons outside the plot? Is she as human to you as your other characters? Is she allowed to be a child? To act like one? To make mistakes? Are you as empathetic or understanding about that childishness as you are towards nonblack characters? Do you make these decisions on purpose?

It's not like Black girls can never be YA protags or anything- ofc we can. But keep in mind that she's not somehow automatically "stronger" by proxy of her Blackness, that she'd "be tougher". She's a kid. Let her be one.

Conclusion

There’s a LOT you have to consider when writing Black girls and women. I’m not going to sit here and say it’s easy, because being Black, and being a Black woman, is not easy. If you’re stressed reading it, imagine being stressed living it lmao. It’s a constant chain of quick-time events every day of your life to prevent nonblack nuclear meltdown in response to your every single action. I’m not going to apologize for it, either.

That being said, I don’t expect you to understand everything, especially not all at once. I just want you all to keep these things in mind, to question yourself when you’re writing your character- are you treating her differently on purpose? Or are you treating her differently because of a bias you might not even notice you have? It might help to go back, to read how you treat all of your characters. Or, if you’ve never written before, to maybe outline the traits of your characters and figure out where things balance out. As always, all you can do is practice at it. Because it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers.

Whew, I'm actually emotionally strained after this one. My chest is beating fast. Let me go get some groceries now.

[juliasgoodusername]

Sometimes a girl has to go a little crazy. Sometimes a girl has to make a book-accurate floorplan for 300 Fox Way. These things just happen, sometimes.

Obsessive annotations under the cut ✨ but be warned, there's a LOT

Exterior

Okay first of all, I'm no architect, and my only knowledge comes from work experience in the real estate industry + a lot of Sims. The style is sort of neo-rural French colonial. I didn't set out to adhere to that standard so much as I made an amalgamation of homes in Blue Ridge Mountains-adjacent towns in Virginia. Specifically, my headcanon Henrietta template is Orange, VA (I'll save that explanation for another post) so I took inspiration from real estate listings from there.

Alright alright I know there is supposed to be one bathroom, but I simply can't tolerate that in a house with 6+ residents. I can't. There was a possible contradiction in the descriptions of "the single shared bathroom" that I used as an excuse to add a 3/4 bath, and I threw in a powder room for free. Because technically there is still only one full bathroom! But seriously with that many women over 30 most of them probably have IBS or chronic constipation and I'm not making them all share a toilet.

Officially we only have 4 bedrooms listed in text: Blue's, Persephone's, Maura's, and Calla and Jimi's shared one. Everyone else gets rooms that don't qualify as bedrooms via Virginia residential building codes (such as the attic, obviously, which falls below the combined ceiling height and square footage requirements). That really just leaves Orla unaccounted for but I'll get to that later. Other aunts and friends seem to visit during the day and live somewhere else, because in The Raven King only Jimi and Orla were described as needing to move out of the house during the demon stuff.

I designed the entire interior floorplan before I even touched the exterior, so there's a few issues, like how I'm totally missing shutters on the windows that functionally need them most. 🫶 I didn't feel like making the windows smaller to fit them, and I could have added faux-shutters but I think those are stupid. 😘

First floor

"This house is lovely. So many walls. So, so many walls," Malory said as Blue entered the living room a little later.

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Chapter 30

Right off the bat, we have an insane number of doors and walls. Old colonial houses are pretty much the opposite of open concept. Functionally I believe that's because it's easier to control heat with closed off rooms, but Virginia is not particularly cold so idk. As for the number of doors, I mean....😤😤😤 I prefer archways/doorless frames in small high-traffic spaces, but every time I thought I could get away with it Maggie would specifically describe doors opening and closing (For example BL,LB Ch 41 gives the reading room double doors, and even the living room gets one in Ch 11. What kind of living room needs a door???). I'm actually missing one of the doorways described in canon, but if you know which one I'm talking about I DARE you to find a place to put that thing!! But I digress.

“Mom," she said as she jumped down the crooked stairs.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

I'm liberally using "crooked" to establish the corner turn stairs. Blue steadies herself on the stair railing when she identifies Gansey for the first time (TRB Ch 15), so I wanted the stairs to have good visual access to visitors. It also sort of has a feng shui-ish effect of separating the public and private energy zones in the house. If that statement made zero sense, I think one of us doesn't know enough about feng shui 👀 and it might be me.

I'm also using that quote to establish Maura's room downstairs, if Blue generally expects to find her mother there, but mostly because everything else was upstairs and it was getting hard to fit. Granted, at one point Blue leads the boys "up the stairs to Maura's bedroom" (TDT Epilogue) but since they were just arriving at 300 Fox Way those stairs could easily be the outdoor ones. There's a handful of little things to support me here, such as Adam grabbing a scrying bowl from Maura's room to use in the reading room (BL,LB Ch 41) implying that her room was the closest place to find one. And speaking of Maura's room-

Calla was overwhelmed by how much shit Maura had in her room at 300 Fox Way, and she told Blue this.

... The mess was taking years from her life. ... Maura liked chaos.

... The psychic hotline rang in the room next door. Calla's concentration fluttered away.

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue, Prologue

Maura is my favorite hypocrite. She claims to detest clutter (TRB Ch 34) and yet her room is literally described as chaos. She probably treats her room like a college student and moves the furniture every time she gets bored/stressed. Thus, I gave her the most insane furniture configuration I could think of while still matching all the contents described.

The phone ringing next door might imply that she neighbors the phone/sewing/cat room, but that area is pretty well described and Maura's room is never mentioned there in any other instance. That leaves us with the kitchen phone (TRB Ch 27) which I put in the hallway with kitchen access as a compromise so it would technically still be in a room next to Maura's.

In the reading room, the man looked around with clinical interest. His gaze passed over the candles, the potted plants, the incense burners, the elaborate dining room chandelier, the rustic table that dominated the room, the lace curtains, and finally landed on a framed photograph of Steve Martin.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 13

There are so many quotes about the reading room that I just don't feel like citing them, but other details include the mismatched chairs, the shelves, doors etc. It's also described specifically as Maura's "front room" (TRB Prologue) so it's one of the cornerstones that I designed the rest of the layout around. Because of the plants, it makes sense that this room would be south-facing too. (Although idk how much light they get with the wraparound porch awning in the way. Oops lol!)

The outside suddenly seemed vivid in comparison to the dim kitchen. The April-bright trees pressed against the windows of the breakfast area, ...

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

Blue Stormed into 300 Fox Way's kitchen and began a one-sided interrogation with Artemus, who was still hidden behind the closed storage closet door.

- The Raven King, Chapter 9

Likewise, I'm using the particularly dim kitchen to place it on the north side, where we also know there's trees in the backyard.

I'll say the kitchen layout is weirder than it strictly needed to be because in the Virginia homes I referenced I adored all the strange kitchens, especially with old timey 'servants area' vibes where laundry kitchen and pantry are all connected. Instead of a kitchen island, they get one of those rolling kitchen carts which I doubled as a bar cart for the drinks they have in the living room.

The kitchen has a doorway to the hall (TRB Ch 13) and the living room is within view when Blue's on the kitchen phone (Ch 27).

Speaking of chapter 27, that's when we get the description "The morning light through the windows turned the drinks a brilliant, translucent yellow." So I put the living room on the east side of the house, where the rising sun would cast really strong light like that.

Second Floor

When she woke up, her normally morning-bright room had the breath-held dimness of afternoon. In the next room over, Orla was talking to either her boyfriend or to one of the psychic hotline callers.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 3

Blue headed toward the red-painted door at the end of the hall. On her way, she had to pass the frenzy of activity in the Phone/Sewing/Cat Room and the furious battle for the bathroom. The room behind the red door belonged to Persephone, ...

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 11

Blue's room and the Phone/Sewing/Cat room are our cornerstones for this floor. In several examples we know that the Phone/Sewing/Cat room faces the street and has a window (TRB Ch 15, BL,LB Ch 4). While Blue's room is "morning-bright," we also get descriptions of guests at the front door "backlit by the evening sun," (TRB Ch 15) so once again we're probably talking about south windows if it's sunlit at both times of day.

Adam sat awkwardly on the edge of Blue's bed. It felt strange to have so easily gained access to a girl's bed- room. If you knew Blue at all, the room was unsurprising - canvas silhouettes of trees stuck to the walls, leaves hanging in chains from the ceiling fan, a bird with a talk bubble reading WORMS FOR ALL painted above a shelf cluttered with buttons and about nine different pairs of scissors. Against the wall, Blue self-consciously taped up the drooping branch on one of the trees.

- The Dream Thieves, Chapter 49

We get some great descriptions of Blue's room (especially TRB Ch 43), although the above one is my favorite (#wormsforall). Every piece of furniture is accounted for exactly as described except the desk which I added because it seemed practical, and Blue is nothing if not practical™.

Persephone's room is also very well-described, all the way down to the furniture and lighting placement (BL,LB Ch 4 and TRB Ch 11) and it's surprisingly similar to Blue's room, if not a bit smaller. Her room gets strong afternoon sunlight, so I put it on the south too (BL,LB Ch 43).

Calla and Jimi share a room that's also upstairs (TRK Ch 16). Because they are the only two who have to share a room, I have justified that it must be the "master bedroom" (sorry for using that term) and is far bigger than the other bedrooms. I managed to fit two queen beds in there, but some scholars [me] would argue that Jimi and Calla might also share a bed because they are in love. Can you prove me wrong? No, you can't.

As for the bathroom, remember when I mentioned a possible contradiction? Famously, Maura draws the ley line symbol in the steamed up shower door (TRB Ch 1). However, much later we get Maura, Orla, Calla and Jimi all sitting in the bathtub for some kind of ritual (TRK Ch 9). No matter how I picture it, I can't put 4 full grown women in a bathtub together without someone partially sitting on/spilling over the side. But that would be impossible in a combo bath/shower enclosed by glass doors!! Thus, I gave The Bathroom a nice tub and put a small shower in the en suite of Jimi and Calla's room. I know this is a stretch but I don't really care.

Attic

Blue had never been a big fan of the attic, even before Neeve moved in. Numerous slanting roof lines provided dozens of opportunities to hit your head on a sloping ceiling. Unfinished wood floorboards and areas patched with prickly plywood were unfriendly to bare feet. Summer turned the attic into an inferno.

... In one of the narrow dormers, two full-length, footed mirrors faced each other, reflecting mirrored images back and forth at each other in perpetuum.

- The Raven Boys, Chapter 34

Trying to fit the attic access in after everything in the second floor was my biggest challenge, because stairs normally take up a lot of space and you have to be careful about head room. I'm the end, I decided it was one of those fold out attic doors that you have to reach from the ceiling of the hallway. We might get a lot of instances of the attic door being opened (😤 seriously, Maggie... 😤) but technically a trap door in the ceiling is still a door!

Dormers pretty much cemented the French colonial style for me. And you know the drill by now: a hot room probably means a lot of sun, which means I give it a south facing window!

Mud Room/Cellar/Basement

This cellar has absolutely zero mention in the text, but my justification is based in the architecture. So far we've got a funky old colonial house, built without a garage, lots of walls etc. Especially in a low-income/semi-rural area, it's not crazy to assume that 300 Fox Way was built before most residents had refrigerators (1930s-40s). Besides iceboxes, a major way to keep food fresh was root cellars. Modern renovations for old homes convert these to concrete basements, but that's why the basement is so small and connects to the kitchen.

My headcanon is that Orla originally shared a room. Pick whoever you want: Maura, Blue or Persephone, any of them would easily be such a chaotic roommate that Orla snapped and in a fit of teen girl rage moved herself down to the crummy dark basement. Over time, she made efforts to glamorize it, such as a vintage dressing screen to hide the flood drainage pump. The privacy also allows her to bring boyfriends over, even sneaking them through the mud room.

This is really just my artistic license, but I swear it makes a surprising amount of sense in context. There's cases of Orla sneaking into the kitchen (easier if she has a back entrance) and she's almost always using the phone upstairs or in the kitchen (because a basement would get bad reception) even though her calls get kinda ~intimate.

Aaaaaand I think that's everything. Sorry it doesn't look like the photo from the wiki at all, but I couldn't find a source for it and Victorian style wasn't super common in the areas I researched. Let me know if I missed anything major! I'll probably cry myself to sleep if so.

[yaravella]

Netflix and Chill with HSR Men

Pairings: Sampo, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan x Reader (separately)

Masterlist

Requests are open

Warning: Suggestive theme

Sampo Koski

He doesn't subscribe to Netflix or any streaming service, he pirated series and movies.

He texted, "Heyyyy my baby my love my sunshine, I got the new Guardian of Galaxy. Your place or mine?"

He will prepare a lot of snacks and drinks.

Watching it on your laptop on your bed.

Genuinely interested at first but when the plot slowed down, his hands will travel to your body and he started to make out with you.

Stealing glances once in a while to the tv while kissing you and pleasuring you. 

You had a hard time staying in the mood though because you were laughing at something on the laptop and ruined the mood.

"Sorry, Sampo…" you giggled while Sampo was trying hard to get you off, "I can't do this."

Both of you then would be too engrossed in what's happening in the film and end up cuddling or stuffing your faces with snacks.

"Should have chosen something boring," Sampo murmured as he stuffed his mouth with a fist of snacks. 

Jing Yuan

Choosing the best time of day is crucial.

He's mostly busy though so you usually only watch films with him on the weekend. 

He felt too comfortable around you so most likely will end up with him dozing off for a few minutes, several times.

"Wake me up in five," He said as he put his head on your thigh. 

As soon as he puts his head there, you can hear a soft snore from him.

Sleep easier when you play with his hair. It's his number 1 weakness. 

Of course you don't have the heart to wake him up since he had a busy week, even though that means you have to watch the movie alone.

Once he wakes up he will ask how's the plot so far.

Gepard Landau

Really excited to watch movies with you.

Enjoys anime, thriller series and even drama.

Gets easily moved by the plot. Will shed tears if the movie is sad. 

If you watch a horror film, he will cover his ears and scoot closer to you.

"I'm more scared of the sound effect rather than the visual."

But he'll shut his eyes tightly if the scene gets too terrifying.

When you make a move at him, he will act shy and glance at you in disbelief 

"Please, I'm watching right now."

But once you start to kiss him, he'll give in and follow the flow.

Once you both finished the deed, he will rewind the movie to the last scene you guys left off.

Dan Heng

Will be the one to recommend movies to watch

Will provide you with brief synopsis and trivia about the movie before you guys watch

"It gets a high score in Letterboxd." He said to convince you to watch.

Of course you're not really looking forward to watching, you look forward to cuddling on his bed.

Or more than cuddling.

However, he will be annoyed if you disturbed him watching.

But once he realized you were demanding his attention, he would pause the movie and rain you with kisses.

Blade

You know there would be no "Netflix-ing" with Blade and more "Chilling"

But you recommend watching a movie with him anyway. 

He will let you pick anything you want. 

He made comments throughout the movie several times, how ridiculous the plot is, how bad the acting is.

"Seriously, the joke is so corny."

"What the hell is wrong with his hair."

His comments annoyed you sometimes. 

10 mins after the movie he made his move towards you.

Started to touch you (in inappropriate places) while still making comments about the movies.

The commentary drives you nuts (and also his fingers) so you shut him up by kissing him hard (or by giving him a head…)

AN: Me if writing sleepy Jing Yuan is a crime:

Hope you enjoyed this!

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: This is my first RE / Leon fic, but I wanted to try my hand at writing this little self-indulgent and potentially clichéd series. As you can guess, I love dance and high school dramas. I also created this with a sequel in mind, which will take place post-RE4R and involve more horror and mystery elements.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Friendship

It was one of those beautiful late summer days with endless light and clear blue skies overhead. You leaned back against the bleachers, feeling the sun cast a warm glow on your face and the sultry breeze against your skin, sighing in utter bliss. The football field and the running track surrounding it were completely empty, just how you liked it, silent except for the relentless trilling of insects and the occasional bird that flew by. No one in your face, no one judging you or telling you how you should be like, no one you had to put up a front for. Just peace and quiet. A place where you could sit alone with your thoughts - and you had a lot of them - mostly about leaving this goddamn small town with its insular, mind-numbing inhabitants.

A trail of thick smoke wafted from your mouth as you took a drag from the joint you had been nursing for awhile. You weren’t exactly high as a kite, but you were definitely feeling some of its effects. You chuckled and gave a wry smile as the thought of being caught red-handed visualized in your mind. Sure, it was highly illegal what you were doing, much less on school property, but you were always a bit of a rebel. And frankly, you couldn’t give a shit. It was already August, but most students were still away on holiday. Not you though, you had to work on your extracurriculars. That’s what you had put your mind to this summer. No fancy beach getaways like the rest of your cheerleading mates had jetted off to. Just a grueling dance intensive and showcase you had auditioned successfully for in one of the larger cities nearby, as well as a bunch of campus visits. You needed to perfect your performance technique for that arts college application coming up in about a year’s time. You started way earlier than the rest even thought about it, because you knew you only had one chance for a one-way ticket out of this hole and you sure as hell weren’t taking any chances. Well, except with that funky smelling thing in your hand. 

No one would be here anyway, it’s a Sunday for crying out loud! You shook your head in exasperation. Besides, you needed to relax and take the edge off a little.

Just as if you jinxed it with those thoughts, you heard the gate to the field unlocking and creaking open behind you. 

Shit, shit, shit! Your eyes darted around frantically, but your movements were just so slow. Why the fuck would someone be here now?

Before you could drop the joint and stub it out with your shoe, a mop of dirty blonde hair and what you made out as someone dressed in a blue tracksuit with a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder entered your peripheral vision. It was soon accompanied by a sharp twist of his head in your direction, bangs falling over his deep blue eyes and you knew he had found the source of the offending smell, probably even from a mile away. His gaze trailed their way from your startled face to your joint hanging limply at the edge of your fingers and then back to your face again. His expression turned from confusion to a frown and then into a knowing smirk as he crossed his arms and leaned against the bleachers.

“Oh, hello. Didn’t expect to see you here. You got cheer practice or something?”

God, he was teasing you. At least you hoped that was all it was and not some form of blackmail. Well, no point hiding now.

“I’m off-duty,” you retorted. You tried to jog your memory of the boy standing in front of you. You were social, or at least you had to be with the rest of your girlfriends to keep up appearances, but you never really bothered with the people here beyond superficial conversations. Then you finally found it - a vague recollection of last season’s track and field meet. He had been one of the better sprinters, maybe the best even, you can’t really remember. There was an afterparty, and you congratulated him, but you doubt there was anything more substantive than that.

“Leon, isn’t it?”

His eyes perked up slightly and he smiled. “In the flesh.”

You snorted at his cheesy reply. What was he pulling? 

“They gave you the key?” It almost sounded as if you were jealous.

He uncrossed his arms and placed his duffel bag on one of the benches in front of him, rummaging through its contents. “Yeah, I got a comp in the new term coming up.” Every now and then he glanced up at you, as if he wanted to ask something, but stopped himself.

A sense of boldness surged within you, as you felt like evening the odds a bit. “What? You want some?” You waved the joint in his face.

That certainly caught his attention. He stared for a good moment, before giving another one of his playful smiles and shaking his head. “Maybe after practice.” He unzipped his jacket and put it away. It was warm enough to train in his sports tank and as you admired the lean, muscular structure of his arms and shoulders now bared open, you couldn’t complain.

“So, how did you get in?”

Fuck. You snapped out of your reverie. He got you there, but you didn’t feel like lying. “Jumped the fence. You should try it some time.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he laughed.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Will I now?” The way it rolled off his tongue felt like a challenge and you secretly enjoyed this banter going on between you, as if you had known each other for years.

Shrugging your shoulders, you took another hit from the joint and let the calmness envelope you. “I never disappoint.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Leon flashed a wide grin that made you feel a knot forming in your stomach, but you didn’t know why. 

He started to move towards the tracks, but stopped short, turning back to meet your eyes again. “Look, you don’t have to worry about all of that.” He gestured to what you were holding and the general surroundings. “I’m not going to tell.” With that, he made a sign that resembled crossing his heart. “It’ll be between you and me.” 

You would have thought it was a joke if not for the sincere look he gave you, before heading off to train. That, and the fact that he did indeed take up your offer to join you afterwards in sharing what was left of the joint. You didn’t expect someone like him to. He seemed a bit too much of a straight-laced, golden boy for that. But then again, life was filled with surprises and you quietly scolded yourself for playing into stereotypes again - something you despise others doing to you.

It prompted both of you to converse even more until the late evening where you even missed your dinner. The questions and responses just flowed.

It turned out that you would share a number of classes together in the new term, specifically Math, History and Biology. Leon was a real earful when it came to his “insightful” one-liners on the teachers, which made you bury your head in your hands and groan. You never realized he would be such a goofball, but you found it somewhat endearing.

Like you, he was popular at school, but unlike you, he seemed to enjoy the company and appeared to be an open book. He would say it how it is, sometimes to the point of being blunt to a fault. Still, you guessed people found him rather easy-going and likable, in a non-threatening sort of a way. A part you wondered if chance meetings like today were how he made most of his friends.

Leon didn’t really have a plan for college yet. He just knew he wanted to do something good and help other people. You had a word for it - “idealistic”. He just shrugged in response, eyes downcast, until you assured him that it was an admirable quality, and you were the jaded one. He made a toast to your future in some arts college in the big city with his water bottle, remarking with a hint of self-deprecation that he wished he had a clearer idea of what he wanted to do with his life.

In turn, he asked you about your dealer. You had to stifle a laugh at that one. Generally, you weren’t as big into smoking up as he thought, but this time you bummed it off one of the seniors as a favor he owed you for hooking him up with one of your cheerleader friends. It didn’t stop Leon from calling you the “high school’s little pothead” every now and then though. He peered at you intently with his lip curled in amusement, as you rolled your eyes each time.

It had been such a long time since you could joke and speak your mind with someone this way. There wasn’t that suffocating nausea of pretending to be someone else around him and he had been so relaxed with you too. You could finally breathe again, and you’d like to think it wasn’t just the weed talking.

Whatever it was, you guessed this was the beginning of a real friendship - one that happened out of serendipity, but made you feel like you weren’t going to rot away in this small town. Well, not alone anyway.

[guiltfinn]

planet of the apes 🦧

dude… i have now seen the new kingdom of the planet of the apes in cinema twice and the first time around i wasn’t all that impressed and i left the theatre kinda disappointed but the second time around i left a little more impressed and a little less disappointed.

the movie was still weak compared to the first three films, (the rise, dawn and war) but im glad it was made.

as a whole i believe this franchise is criminally underrated on multiple different levels. The poetic nature of the films is something i don’t think i would ever articulate or write on paper to perfectly capture how beautifully made these films are, they are just chefs kiss

proximus caesar was a funny villain that i think deserved more screen time and back story, it makes me kinda sad to think that we wont really see his character again.

the symbolism that links all four films together is incredibly well done and throughout the entire series there are crumbs of the films that came before them, which is a part of the reason why i love these films so much. i like how they made noa so similar to caesar, not only in his appearance but in his characteristics. i like to believe it was intentional that noa and caesar (particularly in dawn of the planet of the apes with malcolm) cautiously but willingly trusted a human. noa is so incredibly similar to caesar it would be criminal to suggest otherwise.

dude these films are so visually well done you almost forget you are watching cgi. the visual effects alone blow my mind but the accuracy and attention to detail when it comes to the mannerisms of the apes is out of this world and deserves more recognition. in terms of cinematography planet of the apes have always been amazing at beautifully capturing emotions from all the apes and even better at showing the wonders of a post-human run world. the forests and surroundings that the apes find themselves in continue to amaze me, especially in this newest film were we see a variety of different landscapes.

as much as i am growing to love kingdom of the planet of the apes, i feel as though we could have waited for noa and his story. i think cornelius and the others that were left behind after caesars death deserved a closing chapter. i would have loved to know how the community handled the loss of their leader and saviour and how they all moved on. also i feel as though we needed back story on how the apes separated and became different clans spread all across the continent. as an example i would have also loved to see how the misinterpretation of caesar and what he stood for became so strong and wide spread, as well as why noas clan and their elders knew nothing of caesar or chose to leave him out of their history. there were a lot of open ends and unfinished stories that deserved more screen time, but in saying that, that could mean an eternity of story telling that everyone may not want to see.

at the end of kingdom of the planet of the apes they left it open for another film which i am looking forward to seeing where they take story line. are they going to fully circle around to the original films were they capture more humans and start to use them as slaves or will the story begin to get repetitive? i hope repetition won’t sneak its way into these films like is has with so many other franchises, but we can only hope right?

anyways-

long live monkeys… i love monkeys and we need more monkey movies

also- i know i don’t really do this sort of this thing on this account but i was beginning to genuinely tweak if i didn’t word vomit my thoughts on these movies <3

[salaciousdoll]

Walk Away- Mikey Sano

━━ ༉⁩༊ Pairings : Manjirou Sano x Fem!reader, Rindou Haitani x Fem!reader

━━ ༉⁩༊ Encapsulation : Manjirou was tired of you and did the only thing he could think of, but was it worth the pain in the end?

━━ ༉⁩༊ Warnings : Angst, heavy angst, no comfort( for Mikey), cheating implied, vi0lence, small t0rture descriptions( not on reader), oc names Yasire’, chubby reader, black reader, overall just angst and hurt, everyone in Bonten doesn’t like you except Rindou and maybe Ran, Rindou is a sweetheart in this, Rindou has feelings for you, Divorce talk/ settlement

━━ ༉⁩༊ Word Count : 3.6K

( This is an old ass draft and I wanted to post it to clear out my drafts so enjoy the heartbreak 😉)

You loved Manjiro Sano so much that you put aside anything and came to his aid, but would he do the same? Yes and No.

You were laying down on the bed waiting for your husband. You honestly were getting worried because it’s 4 am and he never is out no later than 2 am. He did call you and say that he was heading to the club with his men and that you should get some sleep, but you couldn’t help but to worry about him.

You were watching the 4am news when suddenly you saw something you wished you didn’t see, “ Breaking news, there was a violent shooting around 2 am this morning, leaving multiple deaths and 2 wounded heavily, sources says this is the effect of the gang violence between Bonten crime organization and CG crime organizat-”, The news reporter says with visuals of one of the nightclubs Bonten owns. It was a terrifying sight to see and you had to call Manjiro.

Meanwhile in the Bonten headquarters, Mikey was getting his wounds fixed while Kakucho was beside him doing the same thing. This was the worst hit they’ve gotten and they just knew someone was a traitor, and Ran was the first to point it out, it’s usually Sanzu. Bonten was secured and locked with the safety of their own club, so why would their enemy suddenly attack them when they didn’t even make it known they were showing up to the club they least visit.

Mikey was on the phone with Yasire’, his ex- wife. She was the one he truly cared and loved this entire time. Kakucho and the others even liked her more than you because she actually helped him, meanwhile to them it felt like you were a show off type of woman. They knew he needed someone like Yasire’ and not you.

“ Are you okay, Manjiro? Do you want me to come over there?”, Yasire’ says into the phone, already getting her keys.

Mikey almost smiled at that and was about to answer when suddenly your name popped up and he just let it ring as the doctor was patching up his stomach. He felt sick of you and he needed you to get out of his mind and life because you were draining him and he didn’t even have a reason for why you were draining him.

“ Mikey?”, Yasire’ asks, wondering why he suddenly showed the expression of irritation. He smiled again once he saw her face and voice on the other side of the FaceTime call, “ Huh, baby? Right, what were we talking about?”

Sanzu happily answered for him, “ Invite her over, I want some of her snacks out of her bag, the other one doesn’t carry good snacks like Yasire’ does.”, Sanzu says, earning a heavy sigh from Rindou.

Rindou was the only one who thought that you didn’t deserve this. He honestly thought you were great for Mikey. Mikey always smiles and laughs with you, but then again he does that with Yasire’ too. Only with you his smile and laugh was fake, anyone could see that but you, it seems. Rindou also thought you had a funny and beautiful personality matching your pretty ass face and body doesn’t matter what size you are either, they all needed a you in their lives, Mikey just didn’t cherish what he has.

Mikey chuckled, actually chuckled before speaking, “ Come over, we missed you.”

Yasire’ smiled before saying okay and hanging up the phone. She knew about you and still didn’t care because why would she, after all you took Mikey from her and now she took him back.

Mikey smiled at the phone and couldn’t wait for Yasire’ to come. Oh, how much he loves her. God, he wished he would choose differently.

You, on the other hand, was on your way to Bonten headquarters after getting a text from Rindou saying that they’re all okay and that Mikey’s fine and was here at the HQ. You originally texted all of them and the others ignored you or blocked you, meanwhile he didn’t.

You honestly didn’t know why Mikey didn’t answer his phone. You suddenly remembered that he doesn’t kiss you goodbye or say that he wants to take you out or make love to you like he always did for these past few months.

Maybe he was cheating? No. No. No. he’s hurt right now and you’re thinking about that, what was your problem? Is this why he hasn’t been really speaking to you, have you become insecure about this relationship with him.

You scratched the thoughts out your head and continued driving to their headquarters.

Yasire’ was already there and was now hugging everyone, “ Oh, I missed you all, how did you all get caught like this in the first place, you look like hell.”

Ran smiled while pouring himself a drink, “ That's because we were fighting for our lives cherry head, why red anyways?”

Yasire’ was about to answer when she got pulled on Mikey’s lap making him grunt in the process because of his wounds, “ Mikey! Anyways, because I wanted to try a new approach, you like it, slick back?”

Everyone laughed at her corny joke while Ran held up his glass, “ That's up for your husband to decide, isn’t that right Mikey?”

Mikey huffed before nodding, “ Mhmm, you look so damn good, I wish I could see you everyday and everynight, instead I’m stuck with her.” The way Mikey said her was supposed to offend you , but the others felt the venom from that word and felt like he was talking to them.

Mochi chuckled, “ Damn, Mikey, you really don’t like y/n, huh?”

Mikey chuckled a little before rubbing a hand over his face, “ You have no idea, she adds on to my stress and doesn't even know it. She constantly worries and nags about me like shut the hell up and just fuck me. Shit! She can’t even do that right.”

The men and the woman laughed at his response. Yasire’ spoke up, “ Why don’t you just drop the bitch, if she can’t even satisfy you why are you even with her?”

Mikey kissed Yasire’ on her lips a few times before answering, “ Why can’t I be with you? I never stopped loving you and hated that she was a temptation I couldn’t resist, now I’m trapped with the most boring and weakest person ever. Believe me, I gave the bitch a hint but she doesn’t even see it.”

Everyone laughed until suddenly they stopped when Rindou got up and paused from where he was standing looking at someone with full remorse for something he didn’t even do. Everyone looked from where he was looking and gasped when they saw you with the most tired expression they saw on your face.

You didn’t even want to cry in front of all of them because you knew they were faking with you since the night of that party. He never even holds you like that so you just silently stared at every last one of them.

Yasire’ and Mikey were too busy gripping and kissing each other to not realize everyone got quiet. They didn’t notice until Takeomi spoke up, “ Why are you here?”

You cleared your throat and walked in further with your hairstyle and clothes slightly wet from the rain outside, “ I wanted to see if you all were alright, looks like you all are, nice to see you Yasire’. I’ll be getting my clothes out of your room Mikey.”

“ Oh, don’t bother, I threw them out, I paid for them didn’t I? So you could kindly walk back out of here. Don’t make this harder than it has to be y/n.”, Mikey says with his usual threatening and dark voice.

You stepped back before taking one last look around the living room and at everyone before holding eye contact with the sympathetic eyes of Rindou. You smiled at him letting him know you forgive him and it was not his fault.

“ Okay.”, You say before turning back and heading out the door and past security. Meanwhile, the men and the woman were cheering loudly as you heard Mikey’s last words, “ Don’t let that woman anywhere near this place again, understand? If she comes back, kill her.”

You felt it, you felt the salty tears coming out your eyes as you got in and started the car. You tried to get your tears out of your eyes before you started driving, so you sat there. Just like that, Yasire’ won after all these years. She never liked you since you met Mikey and supposedly stole him from her when in reality, they were broken up. You were neutral but her—she hated you.

You seen the glimpse of admiration in Mikey’s eyes when he looked at her in contrast to his dull black eyes when he looked at you. You thought you were helping him since he was back to eating like the old Mikey and his eyebags weren’t as heavy as they were. Turns out you weren’t the one helping at all, it was Yasire’ all along.

You pulled out the driveway when suddenly Rindou came out and everyone else came out after him and started waving at you in mockery. Meanwhile, he wanted to comfort you. He was closer to you than he was to Yasire’, he was going to call you later for sure.

You hurried and pulled off with anger, sadness, and resentment filled in your heart and tears streaming down your face. You tried to wipe them as you moved down the road. You stopped at a red light and collected your tears before an expensive car rode past since it was turning at the other light, firing bullets aimed at your car. They’ve been watching you since you came out of Bonten’s HQ. They didn’t know who it was in the car because of the tinted windows, all they wanted was revenge.

Three bullets hit you, one in your arm. Another in your side and another one in your shoulder. You thought this car was bulletproof since Mikey said it was, turned out he lied about that but why? Did he want you dead that bad? Damn!

The car pulled off and someone who was walking nearby called an ambulance for you. You felt like this was your last day on earth. What a shitty way to leave this world huh? When you meet with the afterlife, you gotta ask them why they chose this death for you.

You started thinking about your family and friends.

“ Y/n would you help me with this”, your mother says while cooking in the kitchen for your birthday. You almost smacked your lips because you honestly hated cooking with her, she’s too strict in the kitchen.

“ Get that paprika out of the cabinet and put it on this meat, when you put it on the meat, sprinkle just a good amount, not too much, not too little now.”, You mother says as you did what she told her.

Your little niece and nephew came running in the kitchen laughing and playing when your mother held up the spatula cursing them out, “ Let me tell y’all something, stop running in my goddamn kitchen, y’all better be lucky I didn’t put on the cake yet. Now, would you two please go sit down somewhere.”

You laughed at them playing and hitting each other while leaving the kitchen before your mother spoke up again, “ I tell you, those two act just like you and your brother and sister did. All three of y’all irritated the hell out of me, but I love you all to death. Always remember that.”

You heard a deep voice call your name, but you just wanted to keep walking to the end of the path where the light was until you suddenly got dragged back. In reality, you were now being carried to the ambulance truck with Rindou by your side with tears in his eyes while his brother called everyone else in the background.

You felt a hand reach for your hand as they strapped you to the stretcher and multiple sayings of “hang on” and “ I’m gonna be right behind you”. You knew the voice and wanted to smile but couldn’t because you needed to breathe.

Rindou felt like he couldn’t even think because you just got hurt by the enemy and Mikey or anyone else aren’t really believing it. The only reason he knew it was because his brother had everyone on speaker.

When he heard Yasire’ giggle, he lost it, “ Ran! Hang up the phone, there’s no use in talking to stupid bitches, now let’s go before I really put a hit out on Yasire’, I’m feeling murderous right now and she’s gonna be my main target and right now I don’t give a fuck how mi-”

“ Ok!”, Ran yells before hanging up the phone quickly. He smirked at Rindou, “ I knew you liked y/n, I knew it.”

Rindou ignored him and got in their car while Ran got in the passenger seat. He pulled off thinking about you and only you. Did he like you? Only time will tell now.

When Rindou found out you were in a coma, he went on a binge of drinking and partying. He couldn’t handle it, he wanted to tell you everything he’s been meaning to say to you the day you came back after the vacation that you and Mikey had. He could see the sadness upon your posture, but it didn’t match your facial expression which showed happiness and gleefulness.

Another thing he hated is when the guys talked about you in an I’ll manner in front of Yasire’ and other women they were around. He especially hated it when they did it in front of him too. He always leaves the room when Mikey speaks about you. He used to hide his words but later on, Mikey words became more bitter making him have to bite his lip in order to not get killed, so he just leaves the room.

He visits you everyday and was the only one to visit until now when he saw Mikey with flowers and the rest of the men he mainly be around behind him when he entered with his own flowers and stories to tell. He never told Mikey and the others anything about what hospital you were at, only his brother, which means his brother spilled the beans. He had to because of the look he’s giving Rindou now.

Yasire’ was nowhere to be seen because just a few days ago, they learned that she was the one who put the hit out on Bonten. She was working beside her husband from Bonten’s rival gang. She used Mikey and Bonten, but had to pay the price in the most nastiest way.

Her face was torn off and fingers were gone, Rindou was the one torturing her this time while her husband now has flies flying over his body from Sanzu torturing him while laughing at his pleas. Mikey was stunned that he turned away and left the room. He was double crossed and this is his first time too.

“ Y/n, look I brought these flowers for you. I was hoping you’d be awake, but you’re in a coma…Tell me Rindou, why are you bringing my wife flowers and hiding where she stays?”, Mikey asks prior to turning around to face an irritated Rindou at the entrance.

Mikey continued not even letting him get a word out, “ She’s mine. Don’t you dare think about getting with her or near her. How dare you try to hide her in a unknown hospital when we own the fucking hospital Rin, how stupid could you b-”

Rindou couldn’t respond because he was watching your fingers move and finally your strangled voice called out to someone he never thought you would say.

“ Rin.”, You say before Mikey eyes widened at his wife speaking, only calling out the wrong name. Everyone else sighed in relief when they heard your annoying little voice again. They may not have liked you but that didn’t mean they didn’t have some “respect” for you.

Rindou hurried and grabbed your hand as you turned your head to him with low and tired eyes, “ Rin? That’s you? Thank you for watching over me and talking to me. You were the main reason I held on for this long. By the way, how long has it been?”

Rindou smiled before sucking up his tears, not wanting to cry in front of his comrades and his boss, especially over his wife who he didn’t get a chance to divorce yet, “ It’s been two months, n/n.”

Everyone paused because he never called you a nickname before so why now. Did he have a death wish?

You tried to smile but ended up coughing, which made him hurry to bring the cup of water to your mouth, but you laughed because they were little coughs, “ God Rindou! I’m okay, I just need to breathe, slow down and sit down, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Rindou nodded before sitting down and moving his leg up and down anxiously. He knew he could either be turned down or shot for you. He didn’t want any of that.

You slowly moved your head to Mikey, “ You. Why are you here? You cause me this pain, look at me Mikey! Look!”

Mikey couldn’t look at you because he turned the chair to the wall and sat down, staring at it with silent tears. He couldn’t face you, not after putting you through hell and back.

“ And you all! Why the hell are y’all here, hmm? Did you come here to laugh or take pictures, which one?”, you ask, trying to keep your sentences short so you don’t have to do a lot of talking.

Sanzu being the smart ass he is spoke up, “ I mean we could have but then I don’t want anyone like y-”

Mikey stood up at the same time as Rindou and they both scared Sanzu because of the look they were giving him. Mikey pointed a finger to the door, “ Out. All of you!”

Most of them sighed before touching your covered feet or tilting their heads on the way out, meanwhile Rindou stayed where he was making his brother, who was the last one to stop to try to grab him. He suddenly snatched away from Ran and declared he’s staying no matter what. Ran sighed before stepping out and closing the door— standing right beside it just in case anything goes down between his brother and his boss, Mikey.

Mikey gave Rindou a stare that had malicious intent and you could feel it, so you spoke up, “ What could you possibly say that he can’t hear?”

“ Y/n, let’s not do this and just come home with me.”, Mikey says, taking your hand.

Rindou laughed before speaking up, “ How dare you? How dare you act like you care about her just because the other girl slipped up and fucked you over. Now you want to come back to her.”

Mikey snapped his head to Rindou, “ I’m speaking to my wife! Are you going against me!” Rindou did nothing but laughed until you spoke up, “ He's Not going against you, Mikey. Rindou, baby, can you step out for a minute? I’ll yell if he tries to strangle me while I’m at my weakest.” It was a joke but Rindou took it seriously while Mikey's facial expression dropped in disbelief and sadness. Did you always think he’ll do that to you? And why are you calling Rindou baby?

Rindou smiled when he saw you nod your head before stepping out with a smile on his face at the word baby until he was slapped in the back of his head by Ran, who was shaking his head at his little brother.

Inside the room, You and Mikey stared at each other in utter silence.

He was about to speak when you suddenly spoke before him, “ I want a divorce!”

He was stunned as he gulped down his fear that was laced as spit, “ Y-”

You shook your head, “ No, don’t argue, just agree and get out. It’s for my mental health and I refuse to be with someone who treated me like shit because let me ask if she would’ve never betrayed Bonten, would you still be with her?”

Mikey tried to walk to you but you held up your hand, so he spoke instead, “ Y/n, plea-”

“ Manjiro shut the fuck up and answer the fucking question!”, You yelled in anger and exhaustion.

Mikey gulped before looking away and nodding his head confirming not only his answer but his divorce too. He was letting you go because he knew he was bringing you pain when you said your final words to him.

“ Great! That’s all I needed. The divorce papers will be sent to your office. Goodbye Mikey, it was a glorious ride, now see yourself out please and send Rindou in.”, You say not caring about his hurt expression.

Mikey slowly trudged to the door and opened it but not before stopping to say one last thing while Rindou was standing at the door opening, “ Have a good life y/n, you were the one who made me happy all this time. I was blinded before and now I’ve gotten my happiness taken from me again.”

He then looked at Rindou with hatred and admiration in his eyes, “ Take care of y/n for me, Rindou.” On his way out he thought heavily about you and Rindou. He wanted to know what was so special about Rindou, he found out while sitting on the bench outside the hospital with tears in his dead eyes : it was the love and care he gave you that he couldn’t give you. He will always hate himself for giving you and Rindou the chance to love each other, but it’s for your own good.

━━ ༉⁩༊ Tagging: @dejwrites @eiflawriting @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @bontens-angel @bontensbabygirl @celi-xxmoon @ushijimasslut @Nalyana @cryingchild83 @mikeys-gf @anyahlator

[yuurei20]

hello! first of all I love all that you do, its so helpful having something I can come back and refrence when needed. secondly I would like to ask for your help, I swear in the prologue book with Crowley in the library they used the same sound effect as Divuss whip/pointer and I swear the model of Crowley even in that moment was holding a whip but going back and trying to find it has been fruitless for me, am I going insane or was this something that maybe they took out in an update or was it not in the english verson? many thanks.

Hello hello!! Thank you so much, you are too kind! ♡

I am not sure if he was ever physically holding a whip (he does not seem to have one in his sprites), but you are very right that there is a whip sound effect in that moment!

Grim is bound and gagged by something in the game that the novel explains in more detail (below).

While the situation is vague on both EN and JP in the game, it is possibly moreso on EN because of untranslatable wordplay:

After the whip-crack sound, Grim reacts as though he is in pain and Crowley says, "Consider it tough love."

And in Japanese the kanji used to express "tough love" is love (愛) and whip (鞭) (literally, "whip of love"), but it is just a form of expression and (usually) doesn't mean literal whipping is taking place.

We've never had an official, visual representation of Crowley with a whip (not in the game guide, manga or the game itself, though the novel may have solved the mystery), but this is not the only time "tough love" comes up:

Later on in the prologue Grim refers to Crowley's "whip of love" binding him, using the katakana for "whip of love" rather than the kanji for "tough love," possibly because he only knows the attack by the name that Crowley used for it.

Crowley repeats his, "It's tough love!" line again on JP, possibly for the wordplay.

While sometimes things happen in the novel that don't happen in the game at all (and vice verse), it can be useful as a reference, and the violence of the "tough love" scene is described as follows:

"A long, black cloth wraps around Grim, binding his limbs and torso in an instant. The fabric stretches and contracts, moving as if alive.

'What the…! What is this rope?'

'It's not a rope. It's my tough love.'

The masked man points the end of the staff he holds at Grim.

'You tried to use magic just now, didn't you? We cannot have you thrashing around in a cramped place like this.'

'If you're gonna take it this far--grr.'

'Tried to use magic again, did you? You may not.'

Now with his mouth covered as well as his body, Grim bounces around at their feet.

Every time the man waves his key-shaped staff, the wriggling cloth he refers to as 'tough love' tightens around Grim. It is not unlike a large snake devouring a frog." -Twisted Wonderland the First Novel

And something similar might be happening in the game! While "lashings of love" is great localization, it means that EN loses Grim's actual line of, "He's gonna bind us up," as if something similar happened to Grim in the game as what happened in the novel--he was tied up--but due to the limitations of the visual novel medium, we weren't able to see it.

And right after Grim gives this warning there are two whip-crack sounds, and Grim and Ace are suddenly closer together on screen:

This might be to represent that they were tied together by Crowley's cloth! While it might also just be Grim hiding behind Ace--visual novels tend to leave a lot to the imagination--Ace and Grim getting tied up by Crowley's cloth is exactly what happens in the novel:

"Though he, too, tries to flee, Ace finds himself magically bound along with Grim, perhaps for being seen with his pen in his hand.” - “Still bound, Ace desperately shakes his head.” - “The laughing Grim is bound even tighter by the cord.” - “Crowley nods as he unties the cord from around the shocked-looking Ace.” - “Looking exhausted, Ace stands up and brushes the dirt from his uniform.” - Twisted Wonderland the First Novel

If you've ever seen fan art of Crowley with a whip, this is why! But I am not sure that the weapon he is using has ever been portrayed on-screen, in the form of a whip, magic cloth or otherwise :>

[elitadream]

🎆 Sing for Absolution: behind the scenes 🎆

Hello everyone, and welcome to this summary on how the story was visually built! If you happen to come across this post and would like to read (or reread) the collab @drones-of-innocence and I have created together, just click on the title above and it will take you right to it! 🤗

With that said, let's begin! :D

As some of you already know, this was an idea that Drones had for a long time. It was brought up during one of our many conversations a few months ago, in which she briefly described the plot and sent me a condensed version. I- immediately and completely fell in love with the concept, so much so that I couldn't keep still. 😂💘 I practically begged Drones to let me draw a few frames for it, and she happily gave me permission. At first, what I intended to do was make about 3 or 4 thumbnails, like I had done with One Step Closer.

I returned with 22.

And from there, we both decided "Okay. Yeah. Let's make this official. 🙌💯" LOL

What's interesting here is that, as you can see, some frames didn't make it to the final cut! 🤓 And inversely, new frames were eventually added as the collab progressed. Out of all the sketches that were either abandoned or later deemed superfluous, my personal favorite would probably have to be this shot of Kamek. 😈

From the rough thumbnails I had presented, Drones helped me select the best and most eloquent ones, and I also changed a few other things along the way. For example, one panel that was entirely redone was frame 3 (where Mario enters Peach's room), because the initial composition didn't allow for the reader to see the setting very clearly, and I felt that the establishing shot needed to be wider.

Many of the drawings were also ultimately flipped to give the visuals a more coherent direction and better flow, including this one!

I decided pretty early on that the palette should be made of cold hues, seeing as these events happen to take place at night and that a warm overlay wouldn't adequately have conveyed the more ominous and solemn tone of the story in my opinion. 🤔💁‍♀️

Oh! And I almost forgot: using cold colors for the backgrounds and characters was also very convenient because it helped make the magical effects (the fire, the spells, etc- all the bright, warm and/or complementary nuances) really stand out, which resulted in a more interesting and visually striking contrast overall. 😌🎨

As I do with all my illustrations, I started by cleaning the sketches and adding a unifying background filler for all the frames. Then, I selected the colors I wanted to use (a gradient made of a mix of navy blue and purple) and worked on each drawing individually. Even with simple tones, we can observe the sheer difference that shading makes! 👀😉

There's a visual element that appears in the story and which I had borrowed from Drones before, and that would be Peach's healing magic.^^ ✨ I remember I was fascinated by the idea when I first discovered it in Un Fiore Per Te, which had prompted me to ask her if I could feature it in a piece where the Princess is seen using said power while at Mario's bedside in one of my other tangents. 💞

I kept the effect similar on purpose in Sing for Absolution, so that the slight reference would be easier to catch! 😊

And last but not least, there's that cheeky little Fire Flower! 🤭🔥

As mentioned in a previous ask, the flower actually signifies a lot in this case as it somewhat embodies the deeply affectionate bond between Mario and Peach, glowing brighter and closing its eyes in happiness when the two are close. 💖

While admittedly not the first drawing I made in which a Fire Flower appears, the one that actually inspired both Drones and I to include this symbolic power-up in the story was one that I made all the way back in February for Valentine's Day. 🥰 The subtle yet direct reference can be spotted twice in the text, linking this piece to the collab and establishing a bit of a chronology as well. I was very honored that Drones added this small detail, and I very much look forward to working on more ideas with her in the future! 😁🤝

Big thanks once again to all of you dear friends and followers who have commented and given their thoughts on this projects. Drones and I can't thank you guys enough for your interest and enthusiasm!! 😇💗

ALSO ALSO- I have shared here my visual side of the collab's progression, but Drones intends to give her own side of the story's development soon (explaining some of the themes and narrative elements a little more in depth), so make sure to stay tuned and check her blog as well! ^-^ 💫

[divinelydecreed-custommade]

He's got a girlfriend anyway

Hey my loves, I wrote this ages ago and now see it reads like a Matty Healy blurb😭 there aren't any names though so it's really just a silly little story about you & your pretty boy bestie and the "will they/won't they hookup" energy that surrounds your not so platonic relationship. also - you're both in the like 19-21ish age range if you care about that for the visual

content - cheating adjacent (you might feel like its full blown cheating depending your moral compass lmao - proceed with caution if you're not here to read about that), pining fallingforyou vibes

You end up in his lap in the backseat of your best friend's car. It's purely logistical. You're both small and openly affectionate and it just makes sense for you two to cuddle up in the corner to leave room for your friends with longer legs and broader shoulders - although you probably would've ended up in the same position even if the backseat were totally empty.

You've been mistaken as his partner and he yours more times can either of you care to count. It might be because his fingers are always laced through yours when you're walking through town, or because your legs tend to find themselves draped over his when you inevitably sit next him on the sofa. Just about an hour ago your new drunk bathroom soulmate was saying how jealous she was because her boyfriend never wants to dance with her like yours was all night. You laugh it off with a "yeah, I love him!" Because you do. In a platonic way. Of course. Since he's got a girlfriend anyway. She's new and you like her well enough, but she couldn't come tonight and old habits die hard. So now your back is against the car door and your right side is against his chest. His left arm is wrapped around your waist and his other hand is resting on your leg, keeping you steady as your friend takes sharp turns on the drive back.

You're both tired after a night of drinking and dancing and one of your hands is lazily playing with his curls while the other is tracing the fingers resting on your thigh. He's gently dragging his blunt nails down your back and everything feels nice, and easy, and comfortable. You could easily fall asleep surrounded by the scent of smoke and cologne clinging to his clothes and skin with the quiet music playing from the stereo. He shifts a little beneath you and you end up tugging his hair a little harder than you meant to. You whisper an apology in his ear but he just laughs softly as he continues to lean forward.

At first you think it unintentional - the way his lips just barely brush your neck - but that thought quickly leaves your head as he trails kisses down to your collarbone. You're still combing your fingers through his hair and pull at it again as you feel his teeth grazing the base of your throat much too lightly to leave a mark. You turn closer so you're almost chest to chest in the confines of the backseat and feel his lips curve into a smile against you. You trace your fingers down his shoulder to rest above his racing heart, satisfied that he seems as effected as you.

He's getting bolder, easing his hands under the hem of your top running across your bare back and ribs as the car comes to a stop at its first destination. You move to open the door once you realize you've made it to his already and hop out first, allowing him to follow behind you. You stand on tiptoes to hug him goodbye for the evening as his housemates head for the door, expecting him to say sleep well, or see you soon, or anything but what he actually says:

"Y'wanna come up?"

It shouldn't shock you as much as it does. You pull back enough to look at him with a furrowed brow, giving him the opportunity to say he was messing and take it back but he doesn't.

"I don't think Connie would appreciate that, love."

"Shit - I didn't mean to - sorry..fuck." He trails off.

"Forget it, just go to sleep, yeah? We'll talk in the morning if you want."

He quickly nods, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

You squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his forehead before you leave and get back into the car. Now that the front seat is unoccupied, you slide in next to your best friend who simply says "The fuck was that?"

You wish you knew, but you just shake your head and press your fingers to your temples, looking down at your lap. "I dunno - he's drunk."

"Mm, maybe." She says, sounding wholly unconvinced. "He's always been so into you though."

"Yeah, well. Apparently not that into me." You say it and look over to her with a wry smirk that you hope ends this line of questioning.

It does - the next thing she asks if you wanna get fries on the way back to your shared apartment. Now that is a question to which you will always know the answer.

this is my first time sharing any writing on this acct - feel free to engage if you like ❤️

[inkblot22]

Truss

Woohoo Malleus woohoo! I'm making the trigger list a bit bigger because I keep thinking about how people will totally skip reading it if it's too small and then blame the writer for their own mistake. That shit is clown behavior but I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's case of stupid, so sorry to those of you who think this looks clunky. Line divider found here: @/cafekitsune. This is also a fic that is wildly self-indulgent, in that I mean that while writing I visualized my own physical form and quirks.

That being said, this fic is written with afab (assigned female at birth) readers in mind. No pronouns other than you are used for the reader, but the reader does possess a womb. Reader's chest is not described in the least, just the lower bits, and even then it's not at length. Malleus also refers to the reader as "beauty," but masculine people can be beautiful too so idk but here's a warning anyways.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for noncon, fae interaction rules used for said noncon, slight bullying if you squint, one (1) mention of blood (I'm beginning to think I have a problem.) Stay safe while reading. Possible OOC Malleus, I haven't read any of book 7 and if you spoil it I'll block you temporarily.

This is absolutely not your fault, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It’s awful. Crewel was for sure his namesake, because this whole thing was a steaming pile of-

Alright, from the top, just to organize your thoughts: you are the only non-magic student in a school of mages. The teachers are mages. Your best friend/roommate/monster friend is a mage. The plants here can do magic, but you? No. Thanks homeworld. Love the gift of nothing.

Thus, the faculty have seemingly created a game of “how to piss off and challenge the magicless student,” in which they give you various tasks to just make you lose sleep. Vargas had you running laps until your legs felt like jelly, doing pushups until your shoulders started sounding like glowsticks. Trein had you learning completely off the wall trivia, such as what type of fabric the Queen of Heart’s favorite bathrobe was made of and why it made her more powerful. That’s nothing, it’s easy because you apparently have so much free time in their eyes. But Crewel? Fuck that man. 

When you got the assignment, it sounded fun and exciting. He gave you seeds for a fast-growing rose thing. Honestly you weren’t paying attention to the name of it, but you retained what you needed to know. The plant only grew in moonlight, so you needed to cover it before you went inside at night. It needed a minimum of two hours of moonlight to grow per night. If the basket was overturned and it was exposed to the sun, then the plants would die. Moderate watering, no fertilizer, the usual.

Once the plants bloomed, you were supposed to take the flowers and make some kind of glamour potion, so here you are, failing at doing so. You only had four flowers, and you’re down to the last one. You wasted three tries and you still have no idea what the hell you’re doing wrong and it’s due next alchemy class and you’re breaking curfew on top of all of it. You glare into your cauldron with your latest failed attempt and hunker down to shoulder against the side so you can dump it out and try again. 

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice makes you jump out of your skin. You turn around and you almost want to cry tears of joy, because if anyone can help you, it’s him.

“When I saw a little head duck down, I thought that something strange was happening. A crime, perhaps.” Malleus smiles, and it’s not a kind smile, but you’ll take anything remotely positive at this point, “What are you doing on the floor, child of man?”

“Oh, I have to empty the cauldron.” You puff out, still trying to throw your weight to push the cauldron. You did it twice earlier, so this must be the effects of mental and physical fatigue.

“Oh, that’s right. Allow me.” Rather than waving a hand or anything, Malleus strolls on over and uncrosses his arms, taking one hand and pressing his fingertips against the lip of the cauldron. The whole damn thing tips, the failed mixture pouring out into the nearby drain. With the same ease, he tilts it back and turns to you.

When he looks at you, it’s… weird. You know he’s lizard-like, as dragons evidently are, but even Sebek’s eyes aren’t this jarring. They aren’t soulless or cold or unfeeling, but it feels like he is looking through you. His emotions don’t reflect in his eyes properly. That’s what it feels like. They reflect, but it’s wrong. Fractured. His lips quirk into a smile and you blink.

“Uh… wait, what are you doing out here, Tsunotaro?” You ask, turning to gather more materials, following the transcript of your recording from class.

His smile grows, “Just on a walk. Will you tell me what you’re trying to make?”

“Uh, yeah. This glamour potion? I don’t know. Remember how I was growing those flowers?”

“Of course. And what happened to the rest?”

“I… uh… I messed up the other potions. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here.”

“No?”

“No. Do… do you think you could maybe… help me?”

“Of course.” Malleus plucks the flower up, twirling it thoughtfully, “Why don’t you gather the other ingredients?”

That was simple enough. Petals from your tediously grown blooms, some kind of floral oil with tiny white flowers inked on the label, a ball of clay no bigger than a pea, something that really resembled a severed finger, something that was hopefully just someone’s baby tooth, a handful of crystals in a rainbow of colors, and water. Lots of water. Malleus watches as you put all your ingredients on the nearby table and hums thoughtfully before dimming the lights and turning back to you.

“And where did you hear that you needed these things?” He asks. It’s not something that he says with any indication that you’re right or wrong. The tone is bland but the words say enough. 

He has essentially told you before that he believes you inept, a babe in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing, but it doesn’t stop you from looking as hurt as you feel, “The headmage visited class and gave me some pointers?”

“You personally or the entire class? I don’t personally recall concocting anything like this when I was in your grade.” He says.

You suppose you’re grateful that he’s so blunt, but his flat tone makes the sting of your failure that much sharper. You thought he’d be nicer, since you two are sort of friends, and Lilia has told you that Malleus is fond of you, but it also makes just as much sense for him to refrain from easing up in his flatness because he supposedly thinks so much of you. He thinks you’re an idiot, but he’s not willing to treat you as such.

“The whole class. And no one else in my grade is doing this.” You mutter, staring at your assortment of items on the table.

He approaches the table and plucks up the beaker of water, twisting it in his hand, “Did you distill this?”

“What?”

“Tap water often has various minerals in it. If you haven’t been using distilled water, you’ve been adding an extra ingredient. Typically, most potions are much more forgiving and you can use tap water with little issue, but this particular potion is known to be disagreeable.” He murmurs, crossing the room with your beaker of water and setting it up to distill with a practiced ease. “That’s why it’s typically saved for fourth year students’ aptitude testing.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d like to protest but it unfortunately makes sense. Malleus looks over at you, somewhat blandly, then turns around to face you, looking half concerned.

You answer his question before he can ask, “I didn’t… know that. I guess it’s my fault for being from a different world…”

His lips twitch into a smile, and for a moment you can see amusement in his eyes, fractured with the underlying coldness, “Oh, it isn’t. It may be your fault for failing to ask questions, but having someone who is unused to this type of work take on an advanced project is cruel.”

“You think so?” You ask, voice lilting with hope.

“Of course I do. Why you’re expected to make a potion of this caliber is beyond me.” Malleus states blankly.

“Uh, yeah. I- I don’t know either. But thank you for helping me!”

His expression flinches. It lasts for less than a second before it smooths into an odd grin. You’re not quite sure what that means, but you’re too happy to stop and think about it. The water finishes distilling and you carefully begin crafting, using the tips Malleus occasionally mumbles towards you. Don’t put that ingredient in yet, stir clockwise, you need to grind that up with the oil, don’t rush you have time, et cetera, et cetera, and then you have a gorgeous violet mixture, glimmering with a pearlescent golden sheen.

Your jaw drops. Somehow the few ingredients you threw together is enough to fill several bottles. Malleus is making a smug face as you rush to the shelves of empty bottles and choose several fluted bottles, quickly using a ladle to deposit the final, successful potion into the bottles. You’re so giddy with your success that you hardly notice as Malleus walks towards the door and locks it. But only hardly.

“What was that for?” You ask, not actually caring. You’re too happy to be worried.

“Oh, we’ll need privacy.” He responds.

That part confuses you enough into caring. You turn around from where you’ve safely wrapped the bottles and slipped them into your bag and shoot Malleus a frown, “Privacy? For what?”

Malleus doesn’t say anything. He walks over to the table and you feel your body stand up, void of your control, and stagger over to stand in front of him. If you were concerned before, you’re frightened now. Malleus looks down at you with his strange gaze and folds his arms.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Why can’t I move?”

“You really don’t know?” He asks. Something about his tone sounds mocking, but you’re certain he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s his version of sarcasm, he’s spoken to you like this before.

Your body hops up on the table, taking a seat, and Malleus turns to stand before you, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shift your hips- what the fuck is going on- and Malleus very gently hooks his hands in the pants of your dorm uniform.

Your dorm uniform is legit whatever the hell you want it to be, so it would change on the daily. Today it was a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket. He kneels to remove your shoes and stands back up, leaning close as he tilts your chin up. His breath fans over your lips.

“You didn’t tell me that you were so lovely beneath your clothes.” His hand on your chin shifted to your cheek, and his other hand laid flat on the table. “And… your smell is much stronger. Are you aroused?”

“You can’t just ask me that! I don’t know what you did but you’ve got to let me go.”

“I didn’t do anything. This is your doing.” He retorts, pecking your lips very chastely. 

“What are you talking about?” When he didn’t respond, instead pressing the tips of his hand that was on the table against your exposed sex, your heart jumps but your body doesn’t move. You can’t, “Don’t do that!”

“Lilia informed me that making someone climax is similar to binding someone to you.” He mumbles, kissing you again as his fingers slowly slip inside. “It makes them fall in love with you. Isn’t that the most binding contract of all?”

You don’t know why he isn’t listening, but even less than that, you don’t know why he thought you could handle two fingers, much larger than your own, penetrating you. You squeal, but your body is incapable of tensing. Malleus pulls back, looking at you in a soft confusion.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“With me? What’s wrong with you? That’s too many- it’s uncomfortable!”

He blinks at you and withdraws a finger, which feels much better. You sigh. If you’re going to be forced to do this, you may as well not get hurt in the process. You close your eyes and Malleus hums.

“Is this better? You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t had a dalliance with a human before.”

“I- I don’t think I’ll be able to… to forgive you for this.”

“No?” You can hear his smirk and the squelching noise as he pumps his finger gets louder. He slips the second finger in again and the burn isn’t so bad as last time, “Well, maybe you can decide that for certain after the wedding.”

“The wedd-” You have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning. Your body leans back, laying on the table, and your gentle assailant curls his fingers, leaning forward to mouth at your neck, “There’s not gonna be a motherfucking wedding. You’re-”

You can hear his horn scraping against the table, “Hmm. I didn’t think you were so entitled. You’re squeezing around my fingers. Are you close?”

“No!” You’re a liar. A ragged gasp leaves your throat and you feel the drop in the pit of your stomach, the burst of euphoria traveling up your spine as his thumb presses against your clit.

Malleus laughs, then leans up off of you. The sound of clothing hitting the ground is the first and only warning you get, but you can’t move, so it might as well have been silent. You feel something on your stomach, coming up about a half inch below your belly button. It’s… almost cool to the touch. You would think it would be warmer, but it’s not. Your eyes round as you stare at the ceiling, and Malleus’s face leans into view, his eyes boring into yours as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“You’re very warm. I’ve always thought this. You must be boiling inside.”

“I- what?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning back up. You feel the velvety head of his cock press against your entrance and as much as you want to jolt away, you can’t move your body. You can’t even look down to see what he’s doing. Your lashes flutter as the stretch sets in, the pressure worse than his two fingers. It burns, especially along the bottom, where his weight lays heavy thanks to gravity. You’re capable of wincing and letting out a whine, but nothing else.

“H-hey, that- that hurts.” You babble.

“Does it? You are squeezing me like a vice. I’ll stay still for a moment so you can relax some. Let me know when it stops hurting.” It’s very peculiar. Although he speaks with an animated tone, his voice is often detached. You would think he’d have more emotion since he’s inside of you.

You blink rapidly and decide that now is as good a time as any to ask, “What the hell is happening?”

“Must you tease me so?” He responds, his voice tense.

“What? I’m not teasing you. I can’t move!”

“Of course you can’t. You only just bound yourself to my will.”

“I what?” You shout.

“What, did you think I enslaved you? I could have, when we first met. You’re too free, giving people your name, thanking them, taking gifts freely… it drives me mad.” You feel a flash of heat, something warm rolling against your skin, like standing too close to a gas stove, “And now I find that you didn’t even know? I didn’t think you were such a fool.”

“That’s just called being polite!” You protest. “Oh my god-”

“I suppose I can’t blame you, really. Relax, lest I harm you.” He murmurs, rolling his hips further as though he can slide in deeper. 

You squeak, “N-no, that’s-”

“Too much, yes. Tell me, in your world, do faefolk exist?”

“I- I mean, if they do, most people don’t believe in them.” The oddity of the situation felt like a blanket. Having a semi-conversation while your friend- not after this- used you as a dick holster. It was almost comforting. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

His voice was deeper than normal, an underlying rasp to his voice, as though it was coming from somewhere deep in his throat, “I will explain. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know. But after I explain, I will begin to move.”

“H-hey, no-”

His voice sounded choked, half strangled as he stifled a groan, “I apologize for not being clear earlier. Among the fae, verbal contracts are common and binding. You do not give someone your name. You wonder why I never directly gave you mine? It is a way to bind someone to your will. You do not accept gifts. Invitations are fine, but a gift is a sign that you owe someone something. My help- a boon- is a gift. Typically it is repaid with another kind turn. And, most importantly, you do not thank someone without the sufficient power to break their hold.” 

You felt him draw back, that wave of heat rolling over you again, and then he slammed forward. The slick noise and dull smack were muffled by your squeal, his cockhead punching your cervix like it stole from him.

“Foolish little thing. I suppose it makes you cute.” He sneers, and your body sits up, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The angle makes his motion a bit less painful. He’s no longer bumping against your cervix, thank the Seven, but the stretch remains. Your eyes flinch shut and Malleus tilts your chin up to kiss you again.

“St-stop- stop!” You whimper, “You’re hurting me!”

“If you would relax, beauty, that would not be a problem.” His chuckle is dark, the squelching from your coupling making a wicked duet that makes you feel dizzy, “And you said it to me so easily as well. Thank me again.”

“Wh-” One of his hands slipped under your hips, holding your bottom just under the split in your cheeks, and nipped your neck as a flat thumping echoed from where your bodies met, your legs bouncing with the motion. His member had gone back to bullying your cervix, and you wailed in the hopes that he would stop, “Thank you!”

“Heh… it escapes your lips so freely. Tell me, beauty-” He cut himself off with a grunt, panting against the column of your throat. “Tell me, what is it that you’d like? I would give you the world on a platter, should you want it.”

“I- ow! Y-you’re hurting me!”

There was a possibility that he was getting off on the pain he was causing you, just as much as there was a possibility of him not understanding that he was hurting you. With every motion of his hips against yours, despite the wicked pain, you felt that ever evil tug in your gut, like a stone growing heavier and heavier. 

You tried again, because if this had to happen, if you were under his control now, you may as well not get injured. You would not be pissing blood if you could help it, “It’s too deep!”

He listened. It was odd, but he listened, his voice warming as he slid back a bit and continued ramming into you, but no longer beating the hell out of your internal organs.

“I didn’t realize. Is that better?” His voice sounded warmer, echoey against your shoulder. His teeth grazed over your skin again when you didn’t respond. He choked out your name and you sort of came back to yourself.

“U-uh- I guess?”

“Wonderful.” He mumbled, his free hand reaching between your bodies and slicked with your sweat, to tweak your clit.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you reached your height. Whoever he had been with in the past couldn’t have been so sensitive, since you felt his body jerk against you, an uncontrolled undercurrent to his motions. You let out a quiet, squealing moan and barely even felt the break when Malleus bit you to muffle his own groan. You didn’t feel him climaxing inside of you. You felt the control return to your body and flopped backward onto the table, your hoodie damp with sweat. Malleus took a step back, then carefully redressed you, then himself. You looked up at him and saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, not the fractured appearance of such. It was like he was actually looking at you.

When he spoke to you, leaning forward to cup your cheek, his voice was warm, warmer than ever, “Now, let’s start planning for the wedding, my beauty.”

[milgram-tournament]

MILGRAM Best Song Tournament, Round 1, Match 2 BRING IT ON vs. AFTER PAIN

Propaganda for both options under the cut!

Propaganda for BRING IT ON:

"Reasons why Bring it On should win:

- Just by starting the song, the instrumentals are BANGER. Like his more rock style is very cool, even better than After Pain’s more mellow style - Arthur’s voice (Futa’s va) had bills due because have you HEARD his singing?? His raspier voice fits Futa so well - It feels so explosive and like a call to action in a sense, which very much matches Futa’s mentality during trial 1. He also wasn’t playing victim like a CERTAIN girl… (jk, love you mu!) - SAA HAJIMEYOU USOTSUKI KARIDA - UNDEAD HEROOOI YES SLAY KING HIS HIGH NOTE HERE IS HEAVENLY - His scream at the end. Oh my god. HE LITERALLY ATE THIS NOTE. AFTER PAIN COULD NEVER. BRING IT ON FTW 🔥🔥🔥" - His range goes WAAAAAY higher than Mu. She would end up like PHG if she even tried hitting any of his high notes in the last chorus /j

---

- The vocals are amazing, those growls are so well done - You’re able to get Fuuta’s crime and motive pretty succinctly, only based on the visuals - But it still leaves a lot up to interpretation, like how he only attacked once in the final fight scene. It lead to some cool theories. - On that note, the game aspects are so cool!! Especially when paired with him going after people online, just good synergy with awesome style! - Fuuta’s scared face after he realizes what he did. The great contrast of other foes simply being knocked out then being met with blood splatter. - The tempo of the song changing with his mood is a really good touch as well. Make the song more chaotic which highlights his character traits well

---

"propaganda for bring it on: the music FUCKS it genuinely slaps so hard listening to it. song style is incredible its perfect for fuutas personality and gamer vibes. also the way the mv frames everything as a game? the only time real blood and real gore happens being when killcheroy dies? the little details of all the usernames, the different monster designs, the generally distorted feel of everything being too lighthearted?

okay i could go on about the mv for hours but lets not. aside from that: the FEEL of the song!!! the vocals!!!! it really feels like fuuta putting his whole heart into it, into this point of view that both blows problems out of proportion and minimises them, and DEEPLY fucking up. my darling little hypocrite gamer boy twitter user. he makes his witch hunt genuinely sound like something that could sweep people up into it. also the instruments goddddd. the guitar and synth the bass and the drums the DRUMS. im relistening to it to write this propaganda and it keeps making me headbang when i should be writing. if you arent headbanging to bring it on you are LYING.

the way the lyrics are written is wonderful too!!!! they feel so brash and brave and powerful and like. cocky about it. and it fits PERFECTLY. its gets someone swept up into it and it FUCKS. vote bring it on im serious. lets go!! a victory march!! dan da dan!!"

Propaganda for AFTER PAIN:

"so here is why people should vote for AFTER PAIN !!"

Muu's vocals. Need I say more?

The bridge to it is absolutely wonderfully done, the way she softens her vocals to an almost creepy point is incredible

during the final chorus you can hear the desperation in her voice and it’s very well portrayed

The coloring in this music video were phenomenal

The overlapping vocals at the end of the song just have a really really nice effect

Its just a pure banger

In some parts of the song there’s the sound of a clock ticking in the background used as a sort of beatline… GENIUS??

Its just a banger

even with what we found out about Muu in her second trial, After Pain on its own portrayed bullying in a very realisitc and artistic way (from someone who deals with it regularly)

---

"After pain propoganda: She just girlbossed too close to the sun and happened to be holding a knife at the time"

---

"Gosh everything about After Pain... How can you NOT like it? It's literally such a good song and is very singable. The instrumentation is absolutely amazing and I've listened to it on loop so much."

[theoriginalsapphic]

Okay, it's been long enough:

Mike was trying to call Will; not El.

The ending scene in season 3 is about Mike and Will; not Mike and El.

How can I be so sure about it? It’s simply by one of the most basic rules of storytelling: show, don’t tell.

To put into simply terms, “show, don’t tell” it’s a technique which transmits information to the audience through actions, words, subtext, thoughts, senses, and feelings, etc., rather than by straight-up telling the audience through surface exposition.

To use a film that probably everyone is familiar with as an example, in Up it’s showcased how Carl and Ellie were deeply in love with each other through a five-minute wordless montage of their life. Without that scene, even if Carl had spent the rest of the movie saying how much he loves Ellie and how he misses her, the audience would probably had not formed an emotional connection with Carl and his story of love and loss like they did with a five-minute scene.

What’s more effective? Which one evokes a more vivid image in your head?

Sarah was sad, so she started crying.

Sarah laid motionless, tangled in a disarray of bed sheets she hadn’t changed in over a week. Tears leaked down her temples and into her ears, but despite the mild discomfort, she remained frozen, glued to the threadbare mattress.

Show, don’t tell.

So, with that being said…

Why do people believe that the last scene in season 3 is about and Mike and El and mlvn?

Up until here, it could be said it’s debatable whether this is about Will or El; El is in the U-Haul truck with Joyce, while Will is in the other car with Jonathan. Both vehicles are on seen on frame driving away, so it could easily be about either of them or even both of them. also, nice parallel with the season 2 finale, with, once again, both Will and El in different vehicles driving away while Mike is framed in front of the Byer's home.

However, that changes during the length of the scene.

What is Mike afraid of?

But what changes he is scared of? The series doesn’t tell; it shows.

The series doesn’t say aloud that Mike is scared of changes related to Will, but it shows it by having Mike somberly stare at the Byers’ house in this scene. If the series wanted to show that Mike’s emotional reaction in this scene is about El then they would have him look at something that the audience can immediately connect with El, like Hopper’s cabin or Eggos or anything that we would immediately relate to her.

The scene that follows this scene just reinforces that this is about Mike and Will by drawing a visual parallel between the two times that Mike felt like he has lost Will.

And even having a verbal confirmation by Mike himself the following season.

Following this train of thought…

Why do people still think that the phone calls were meant for El?

I’m not going to say that Mike told El that they were communicating through Cerebro, or that they couldn’t talk through the phone because the government may had been spying on them because that doesn’t matter.

What matters is what we were shown in the screen, and we were shown is that… El never complained or even mentioned phone calls. Will did.

El never mentions any phone calls or struggling to communicate through the phone with Mike in the entire season. The whole ‘phone calls’ situation is a topic of conflict brought between Mike and Will; not El.

The series has Will verbally express his discontent with Mike’s lack of phone calls while El never even talks about it, so why would anyone relate ‘Mike won’t stop calling’ with El when she never raised a problem about it?

El later appears in the scene that shows the audience that Mike did try to call, but the series doesn’t focus this scene about Mike and El at all. It focuses on El and Max instead.

The series has the chance to relate Mike’s missed calls with El in this scene. Instead, they show two things:

Missed calls were never a source of conflict between Mike and El but is one between Mike and Will, thus confirming that Mike’s missed calls were meant for Will— not El.

El’s priority is saving Max and not her relationship with Mike, just like it will be in season 5.

[heart4gyu]

just for show || ‪mc!heeseung x mc!reader

note: this is a little angsty ?? idk i’ve been thinking about this for a while and thought i’d just finally do something with it… lmk if i should continue this blah anyways ENJOY ^_^ (not proofread, maybe a little rushed)

PT.2 HERE!!

you were nervous, of course, when you were asked to host with heeseung as your partner. i mean, who wouldn’t be? but you also couldn’t reject the opportunity that you had been waiting for for so long.

when you first met him, you just tried your best to keep your distance and still be polite. after all, you didn’t want to upset his fans or even send the wrong message about yourself.

though, you were really good at being an mc, a natural talent if you say so yourself. the jokes always hit, the dialogue was smooth, and people said that both of your visuals just fit each other perfectly.

the more time passed with you two as partners, the more comfortable you became. you were a great duo from the start but the addition of soft smiles and eye contact really added to the effect. not to mention the media reaction was great, the fans loved seeing you together.

“their chemistry is unmatched”

“don’t they look like the perfect pair”

“i need to see them do a dance challenge”

“their vocals are meant to be together”

the compliments from fans went on and on. even managers and producers would point out how great the two of you worked together. you loved all the praise and you could tell heeseung did too.

it wasn’t until he started being extra kind towards you that you started to get all the more excited for filming. he would hold the door open for you, bring you your favorite drink to set, even holding his hand out for you while you came down the stairs.

he was a gentleman. he made your heart… skip a beat… except your heart was not supposed to skip a beat for your coworker. not in this industry. but you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t help but think that if he was doing all this then maybe he felt the same.

you couldn’t ask though. the thought alone was risky enough. you pondered on these thoughts for a while, and felt yourself grow more attached to him as the days went on.

the two of you began to talk more. during hair and makeup, when you were choosing matching stage outfits, even on break, the two of you sat and talked about anything. you didn’t mind getting closer to him even if he wasn’t feeling the same tightness in his chest for you.

then one day, you both sat in your makeup chairs scrolling on your phones. “look at this,” he said, leaning over to show you something on his phone.

the video was taken by a fan. it was heeseung helping you adjust your mic pack. you remembered that day. there was technical issues and everyone had to switch out their mics and since you had already gone back on stage you were trying to fix it yourself when he helped you.

you caught a glimpse of the caption before he was returning back to his chair. ‘always so caring when it comes to her’ or something along those lines. you didn’t know, you didn’t really care either because why was he showing you that random video?

“they really love those kinds of things,” he added before you even had time to ask.

“w-what do you mean?” you stuttered, your mind suddenly starting to piece everything together.

“i mean the fans, they love our interactions,” he said, as if what he was trying to say was obvious.

“so everything you do is only for the fans to see and for you to look good?” you said, rushed and just above a whisper.

“what? y/n i didn’t mean-,” heeseung started but you were already standing up. you excused yourself to your team and quickly found the closest restroom.

you didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t bear thinking about all the sweet things he did when you thought the cameras were off. you had no reason but your heart felt like it was broken.

heeseung searched for you but by the time you came back your team was rushing to finish getting you ready for stage. you went on like nothing was wrong, performed perfectly for everyone to see.

he was worried about you the whole time. he wanted to talk to you but the second the recording finished you rushed back to your wardrobe room to change. then you and your team were gone without letting him get in another word.

you had to get out of there, because of course he would try to talk his way out of this. and you might have just believed him… you weren’t sure how you’d face him again the next day but you knew that things between you and heeseung were no longer going to be the same.

[mxlissaliss]

Gleam Reaper (RoR Hades x Fem!Reader)

⚠️ TWs/CWs: Mentions of drugs , harassment , dead bodies , implied suicide and manipulation ⚠️

Words: 4,4K

Part: 1/3

Notes: Reader here is far from a saint. Here lays a twisted woman with too much power and little to no supervision. It's okay, Hades loves y'all anyway and is all in for the chaos.

Also, it's a kind of platonic-ish relationship at the moment. Might need to see how I lead it to a romantic halt in the near future. First time writing something like this btw, hope you like it if it even reaches anyone :P

***

Red lights, obnoxious music, sweaty people and drugs; that's the perfect recipe for either a great party, or a disaster. And in most cases, it's both.

When you are the God of the Underworld, you grow familiar with the many ways mortal lives end, especially young ones. Tragic to most, any other Tuesday to Hades. After all, eons of experience can toughen anyone's heart and make even the most appalling situation just an everyday occurrence, and a party like the one he had just sneaked in was full of these fateful events.

As he loved to say, death was always around the clock, which was a literal sentence when it came to his job. He leaned against a wall with his arms folded over his chest, an amused expression on his otherwise stoic face. The place was a complete mess, and it was easy to see.

Right next to him lied a deceased young man on the cold floor, eyes and mouth open dismally. The poor lad drank some spiked booze from a nearby table, and it seemed that he was quite the lightweight. Or perhaps he had already done drugs prior to that incident and ended up overdosing. Either way, he took note of that corpse as the first one of many to claim that night.

‘Hm, I wonder how they can talk to each other when I can barely hear my own inner monologue? It's absolutely deafening in here.’ Hades thought as the DJ turned up the music to a further level, and he swore that the speakers were about to catch on fire.

Though, more distracting than the ear-splitting tune in the background was that most of the women around would stop dancing to occasionally throw suggestive glances at him, a kind of visual language that Hades knew pretty well. No God could ever be a stranger to seduction, and he was well aware of the effects his divine appearance had on mortals; his tall stature and broad shoulders caught everyone's attention the second he stepped into the place. He was the highest individual in the room, a quality that only added more charm to his already handsome features. Perfectly chiseled chest and torso that paired up heavenly with the black, tight sweater he was wearing to appear more human-like in his attire, those well-defined arms and athletic legs that couldn't be completely hidden under his gray pants, a sharp jawline, snow-white skin that looked so soft yet untouchable, that godforsaken greek profile and moist, rosy lips. Breathtaking.

But his never-ending beauty was only enhanced by his silvery, wavy hair that looked somewhat messy despite being nearly styled. It moved graciously with each step he took, his slim fingers running through it every so often to brush it away from his forehead as his deep violet eyes searched carefully for his next victim. Oh, how divine he was, and he knew it.

“Help, someone…” The desperate cries of a young woman could be heard from the nearest bathroom, and his sharp ears caught the pitiful plea with ease even through the loud noise. The door was cracked open, and he could catch a glimpse of what looked like your local high school bullies cornering a younger couple with ease.

What a sad sight, humans really seem to not know better sometimes… Aha, there it was! All he had to do was turn his head to the opposite direction and he saw it, yet another dead person on the floor. Well, almost dead. It was a woman convulsing mercilessly on the ground as a group of panicked people tried stop the seizure by holding her limbs still. What a stupid thing to do. They were just making it worse and more agonizing for the poor lady. But it was not Hades' place to intervene, and even if he wanted to, he would not. When death knocks on your door, there is only so much any God other than Thanatos can do.

Besides, the more people that died, the more souls his domain would possess. So he smirked slightly to himself and turned back, walking away to the opposite direction. That summed up two deaths already. The night was looking good so far, and it was only starting.

But even after countless minutes of searching, he couldn't find the person he was looking for; the “Gleam Reaper”, as he liked to call you, since you were like a precious jewel shining among the dark grip of death. A gorgeous, gorgeous woman usually dressed in stylish black clothes, with fancy and neatly polished nails, always preying on mean mortals in the brink of death. You were once a human that died at a party when a group of browbeaters took advantage of your vulnerability, and then things got out of hand. A mess of a party, just like the one the King of the Underworld had just attended to with the purpose of finding you.

He had the honor of meeting you once your soul made it to Helheim. From what he could grasp, you were not the nicest person to walk on Earth and had earned a first-class flight straight to Tartarus, plan that he was about to execute. But you were awfully calm and accepting of the situation, and for someone that had just learned that their final destination would be the worst place to be in the Realm of the Damned, your peace and quiet was nothing short of intriguing to Hades.

———

“Y/n S/n, eh? Aren't you afraid of the Tartarus?” He asked in an icy tone that served well to hide his amusement. The God came off as uninterested and aloof. Nevertheless, the glimpse of curiosity in his eyes did not go unnoticed by your own sharp ones, something that you used to your favor.

“I regret nothing.” Was all you said.

And surprisingly, that was all you needed to say. You knew it when he kneeled down to cup your face with his thumb and index finger, gently pressing them deeper into your cheeks with the kind of glare you'd only see on someone that has pretentious meanings. “You have so many things to regret, yet I sense no mockery or dishonesty in your tone… Interesting.”

You scoffed, almost offended by his preying eyes upon you. It made you feel like a piece of meat under a lion's nose, and yet, that wasn't even close to enough to make you back off. “I am not afraid of you, God of the Underworld. You do what you want with me, I do not care.”

For the second time, the King of the Underworld was thrilled by your bold attitude. You were either the bravest girl to ever speak with him, or the most foolish and naive little thing he had ever seen. Whatever, that didn't matter at all. You were fascinating, to the point in which your constant way of glaring daggers at him seemed more like a ludicrous attempt of forcing him to let go of you than a move to save your already deceased existence.

And he loved it. He knew that Persephone, Thanatos and the other deities of his realm would love you and your snark.

“So that's how it is, very well. Welcome to the Underworld, Y/n. From now on, I'll make sure that you live as freely and comfortably as possible in the cold embrace of the dead.”

———

Those were some simpler times… Well, not really. It was barely twelve years ago, a pitiful amount of time in the life of an entity that has lived longer than any other among his kin. But back to reality, he shook his head in frustration and kept searching for you.

‘Where is that stubborn lady? We always bump into each other accidentally in the Underworld, yet I can't seem to find her when I actually need something from her…’ He thought again, looking over people's heads endlessly but to no avail, much to his dismay. A swamp of people would have been an appropriate term to describe his surroundings. No matter how hard he tried to set his eyes on different corners, doors or gateways, dancing drunkards were always in the middle to block his gaze, unintentionally.

Now he was starting to get irritated about the amount of individuals cramping the room. And worse of all, he couldn't feel your presence anywhere close to him.

Why did he even need to talk to the Gleam Reaper? Even after a decade of knowing each other, you had never been close enough for him to be so persistent about his urges to see you. He didn't bear romantic intentions, that much he knew, for he already loved Persephone dearly… So, what was this strange craving for amity?

Right, that was it. He wanted a friend, that's why he came here in the first place. And in an opportunity, he made his way through the people to find a not-so-crowded space in the room and slumped down on a couch, paying no mind (or, at the very least, trying) to the annoying couple next to him that couldn't keep their hands to themselves. How inconsiderate, but first, he needed to sort out his thoughts to clear his head.

It's not like you loved to wreak havoc everywhere you went. Hades himself designated you as a deity of chaos at parties specifically, and he knew the reason why; you just liked to be troublesome whenever there were bad people in misfortune around you. Bullies, tormentors, stalkers, harassers… All of them were on your death list, leading it. Similar to what happened to you in your final moments, your Grim Reaper self always lured the lads in and then showed your true colors, by making them end their own lives with their own shaky hands as you watched their lives fade away, keeping them secured in your embrace as your slim fingers stroked their hair. He still couldn't tell if you really enjoyed their misery, or if you just pitied them.

The latter sounded more accurate to him. Perhaps that's why you only went after those whose days were already counted. No point in torturing a healthy and innocent individual when you could “free” a tortured soul from their torment, and you did it because said souls also tortured others. You hated those that would cause pain to others just to deal with their own.

Even though you were pretty much doing the same thing you despised the most now as a deity, you told yourself that you were their karma. That was your twisted mindset, and he was all in for it.

And so he remembered his brief encounter with Poseidon earlier that day. Time to daydream again…

———

The Tyrant of the Seas was never fond of those pesky mortals that Gods were supposed to watch over. Those creatures were ungrateful, worthless and useless, just as much as they were unhinged. The mere thought of humans made him feel sick.

And yet, there he was, listening to his eldest brother rambling about the possibility of hiring a mortal, the lowest form of life, as an assistant to reduce the workload. Hades was never one to complain about his duties nor his struggles. As the eldest, he'd always thought that it was his duty to shoulder everything on his own to keep his siblings safe, and his domain was no exception. No burden could ever be heavy enough for him not to carry alone.

Except for boredom, that is. Though, it was more of a consequence than mere mental strain. Persephone had recently made her trip back to Mount Olympus to reunite with her mother, and while Hades was well aware that the following six months were going to be just the same as the others, a strange feeling of restlessness was keeping him awake at night.

Actually, it had gotten him so distracted lately that he had been trying to read the same book for over two weeks now, stuck in the same page. A task that would usually take him two days or three at most.

“Utterly unnecessary.” Said Poseidon in his characteristic monotonous tone, cold blue eyes piercing straight into Hades'. What his brother had just proposed came off as both ridiculous and undignified, and he'd rather be struck by lightning than agreeing with him. Physical defeat would be way less humiliating, he thought.

“I might need a companion. Not a lover, for I already have my wife, but perhaps a friend to pass the time with me while I am at my office to make the silence more tolerable.” Hades spoke back immediately, already having anticipated his younger brother's protests. He was unamused at his reaction, and yet, somewhat disappointed by his disapproval.

The younger God didn't respond to the suggestion, remaining stone-faced as his eyes were set on his brother's. Typical Poseidon.

Hades sighed, leaning back on his throne before speaking again, “An assistant would be a pleasant addition to my everyday routine, don't you think?” Asked the King of the Underworld with a tinge of intrigue, trying to gauge a better response from Poseidon this time. “Someone to sign the less important papers for me, or deliver the weekly letters when I can't do it myself.”

“You can do it yourself. You must do it yourself. You mustn't rely on anyone else,” Poseidon said sternly, showing the slightest bit of frustration at the God of the Underworld's insistence. “You are a God, and Gods do not rely on others.”

“This is not a matter about reliance, brother.”

Well, no more words were said for the next twelve minutes, which gave Hades the impression that their brief exchange had ended abruptly with no hopes to be resumed. The albino twirled a strand of his smooth, silky hair around his index finger as a reflex, deep in thought and possibly unaware of his elegant fashion.

Sure, he understood Poseidon's point, at least for the most part; Gods have always been self-sufficient and naturally independent. Hades himself had been working alone in the Underworld for as long as his immortal mind could remember, assisted only by his wife during the span of months that she spent with him in the realm of the death. He's never had enough trouble to seek for help from anyone. Not when he was younger, not during the Titanomachy, and definitely not on his daily tasks since then.

So, why was he suddenly so adamant about hiring an assistant for the mere purpose of companionship? It didn't make sense to him, let alone to Poseidon.

On the other hand, he couldn't just ignore the feeling any longer, constantly nagging at the back of his mind. What was it, even? Was the routine he'd been keeping for eons finally catching up to his wit? Hades couldn't even recall the last time he had longed to do something exciting, other than contacting Beelzebub whenever he needed something from the Lord of the Flies. And the more he tried to find a reason, the more confusing it became. It was frustrating, that much he could figure out by himself.

And the awkward silence in the throne room was doing little to quell his impatience, so eventually, the God of the Underworld added something out of ennui.

“I'll go for a human, preferably deceased. That way I won't have to drag anyone down to the Underworld, as it'd be a hass-“ But Hades was interrupted by Poseidon standing up hastily, not even turning back to bid farewell. Surprised much? No, not really, Hades was expecting that, but he hoped that the Sea God would at least listen to the entire proposal. How arid.

Though there was no point in complaining, anyway.

—————

Ah, what a pleasant talk during some wholesome quality time with his little brother. Just remembering the way Poseidon's knuckles grope harder the edges of the throne's armrests at the mere mention of a human made Hades chuckle to himself. The Tyrant of the Seas could be quite comical without wanting to, but he'd never say it aloud if he wanted to make it out in one piece.

Perhaps the younger God was right, no? Even if he made friends with the Gleam Reaper, nothing would guarantee that those feelings would go away. Maybe time would tell…

‘Time to get out of here. Leaving my domain for a whim like this was an inadequate move on my reco- … Now, just what in the old world is this?’

Just when the King of the Underworld was about to take his leave, a familiar item rolled up to his feet; a pill, and not just any pill, but a psychedelic capsule. What an intriguing sight, Hades thought, so he got off of the couch and crouched down to carefully examine it, trying to see where it came from.

Judging by the nearby people's reactions and stares, it came from the balcony next to him. The glass doors were covered with wine colored tulle curtains, which distorted the view of the folks outside that were surely enjoying themselves among their own “privacy”. But one thing he was certain of is that the ergoline in his hands came from there, specifically, from the small opening on the left door.

And that was all he needed to know.

“Gotcha.” Spoke aloud the Undead God, smirking at nothing in particular as he rose to his feet and brushed off his knees, ready to head off the balcony. Being away from the music would help a ton.

He stored the pill in his pocket and opened the door fully to the terrace, breathing in the fresh air which felt heavenly. The smell of sweat and puke was clogging his nostrils back inside and he didn't even realize it until the fresh breeze cleared up his nose, allowing him not only to think a bit better, but also admire the scenery before him.

Glass railing that supported the kissing ladies leaning against it, marble flooring that looked spotless, elegant benches made of the same sturdy material, and a breathtaking garden filled with extensive fields of Lavenders. The calming scent of the flowers reached him through the cold, gentle wind of the night, relaxing him further. It was a welcome relief from the mess happening in the party.

It was actually ironic, having thrown a party that turned into pure chaos claiming soul after soul while being right next to a Lavender meadow. That sort of duality was appealing to him. Such was life, he thought.

“Care to explain what are you doing here, King?”

That voice, that tone, those hints of sweet notes in the speech…

He had found you. Or rather, you found him first.

“The Gleam Reaper herself, what a pleasant surprise. I was looking for you, Y/n.” Hades said, smiling softly as he turned to around to look at you closely. “I knew I would find you here.”

“Oh, really? How come?” You smiled back at him, e/c eyes staring into his very soul. For a clever woman like you, Hades had always been a mystery that remained yet to solve. His mind was like a chess board, or rather, a painfully complex puzzle that always seemed to be missing a piece just when you thought you've got it figured out.

And in more ways than one, that was exciting for your deviant heart.

“A crowded room with red lights, funky music and drugs, filled with dumb women, sad girls, high school junkies and men that are desperate for feminine touch…” Hades began smugly, making you laugh.

“… The perfect recipe for disaster.” And you continued, just like the first time you two met after you had turned into a Grim Reaper, a being that collects the souls of those who have perished to take them to the Underworld, to him. Those exact words marked your first ever interaction as immortal beings, and it felt like a breath of fresh air to know that he still remembered them to the letter.

As the sentence ended, the both of you shared a soft sigh, enjoying the comfortable silence that followed for the next five minutes, just gazing over the Lavender garden. Of course, until the Undead God voiced his intentions.

“You know, over the years, I have given you a kind of freedom that others could only wish for. You are a Grim Reaper, yet I have allowed you to be selective with your victims and even the times when you wish to work, and the others, when you just want to slack off. But I've let you rejoice in such privileges because I find you interesting and deserving of my special treatment… So, I came here to ask something of you, Y/n.”

“Then speak, and do it quickly so I can go back to minding my business.” Your tone shifted almost dramatically. One moment you were all in for a good laugh, then your intonation became serious and your words clever. That's just how things worked around the God of the Underworld.

“Alright, I'll go straight to the point.” He said, running a hand through his hair, “I want you to come visit me in my palace, specifically, my office. I've been longing for a companion for quite a while now, and I can't think of anyone else better than you to fit that role.” By the end of the proposal, the albino's violet eyes took on an almost empty look, one that you knew was not idle in the slightest. “What do you say, Gleam Reaper?”

“…” You didn't respond for the first few seconds, seemingly unfazed by his request. But that was okay, he was used to Poseidon and other Gods doing just that every time so he was willing to be patient.

Still, something about his sudden petition seemed off to you. Why would the King of the Underworld, Ruler of Helheim and the Dead, the very Dark God himself want a friend? Because you could see right through him, and whatever kind of “help me with my paperwork” crap he was most likely going to come off with didn't even stun you in the slightest. If anything, it was confusing.

“Two questions. First, why? And second, why me?” You finally answer, leaning back against the mirror-like railing with a raised eyebrow.

Hades simply shrugged, probably just as confused about his own request as you were, “First, I have been feeling quite lonely lately, dwelling in my endless work with only the company of my cockatoo, and occasionally Cerberus when he's not guarding my palace.” He explained, now twirling the same strand of silvery hair in that characteristic manner of his, which you interpreted as him being deep in thought.

“And second?” You asked again, both curious and impatient.

“I think that your presence would be soothing, but if you ask me why, exactly, I might not be able to tell you just yet. I'd rather not think of it as hope, but intuition instead, so to say, a hunch.”

“A hunch? The cunning God of the Underworld is relying on a hunch, of all reasonable excuses to seek for a friend?” Even though you tried not to, an inevitable cackle escaped your pretty lips. Now that was just too humorous to be true. Oh, but you knew that he was being serious, and that was easily the funniest part. “Fine, I'll think about it later. It sounded more like an entreaty than a request, given how humbly you asked for it.”

“I'll take that as a yes, then.” He said with a self-satisfied expression, before turning back to walk toward the doors. It was time to leave for good.

But before he did, Hades stopped in his tracks, not bothering to look back at you. “Before I go, tell me, where are they? I know for a fact that you weren't here just enjoying some alone time and a cigarette.”

“Aha, you witty God.” Just like him, you just shrugged, seeing yourself in the reflection of the doors and using that to raise a hand and point a finger to a certain direction. Hades followed with his eyes through the reflection on the glass and his gaze landed on a not so far away spot; the roof of a small house next to the building they were in, made out of red tiles that looked quite old.

And then, he saw it.

A pile of dead bodies put one on top of the other, almost threatening to slip off of the tiles and fall down grotesquely, much to the disgrace of any passerby underneath. He recognized them almost immediately, they were the ones harassing a couple in the bathroom just half an hour ago. The last bits of humanity in him felt uneasy at the sight of those people tormenting the poor lovers that just wanted to leave, but Hades was way more focused on finding you than questioning his own moral compass.

Now, their flesh was already rotting even though they had died less than an hour ago, something that he knew was only possible because of your wicked abilities and will.

And the more he stared at the scene, the more details he found, and one of those was the fact that every single corpse was holding a needle in their right hand, already used and broken needles.

So that was your doing, he must have known.

“You still prey on broken individuals that wish to find inner peace by making others miserable. They have always been your favorite kind of soul, haven't they, Gleam Reaper?”

No more words were needed, for he just waved a hand to bid farewell and walked past the doors and out of the balcony. You didn't expect any less from him, whatsoever. That's why he came here, because he knew exactly what you would be doing.

You could only watch him walk away and disappear between the crowd, and scowl lightly at his whole drama of having been searching for you when he could have easily found you among mere mortals. Still, you grinned widely knowing that your next visit to the Underworld was going to be quite intriguing. You'd never turn down such a plea, and it was exhilarating.

Then, your eyes moved back to your “masterpiece” of remains and smiled, answering his tacitly rhetorical question with opaque eyes. “What can I say, it makes me feel like home.”

With that, you knew your job was done for the night. Therefore, time to leave as well.

You could only wait in anticipation for your next meeting, and whatever it may bring to the table. Hopefully something worth your precious time.

[zeno-zero]

Avatar Roku rant/rambles:

I love him, I love him in such an insane amount. Had me on chokehold since 10 years old like goodness me! What the fuck H-E-🏑🏑 !!

Nobody understood his character and that would've been greatly fine with me but the amount of mischaracterizations, misinterepations, and wishes that he's more like Kyoshi has always made me upset. Roku is a good man whose position as an avatar is poor in terms of writing and expanding his story further.

Roku outside of being Aang's mentor and guide - he was nothing more than just being kindhearted, wise, and pleasant while also acknowledging his indecisiveness, and faults. He even has a flawed perspective on the four nations, that the four nations should always be remained seperated, and still. Yet, I still continue to adore him a LOT. He have so much potential, there are rooms that people could always explore his character than just on the surface/visual level. His airbending and waterbending teachers weren't even named in the late 2010's until some informations were finally out !!

The gene yang comics are not my cup of tea but Roku telling Aang that he should end Zuko's life because he couldn't bare the thought of seeing Sozin? WOW. His friendship with Sozin has always mean something to Roku - so much so, he trusted him to the point it was his downfall. The thought of Sozin's redemption after he left him with the rubble is definitely what Roku had in his mind. But we're talking about the conflict between the Avatar and the Fire Lord, never Roku and Sozin.

His bending abilities are fucking awesome too !! Destroyed an entire palace with airbending + avatar state alone? Created a massive wave in one single move that sent his teacher flying up all the way on top of the chief's palace? He can even be quiet and and silently burrow to the ground to suprise attack enemies with earthbending? Lets not forget that the entire island that Roku was in used to be a huge one until he cut it into a cresent island !! There used to be two super volcanoes !! There's only one remaining !! His firebending shown on the show is also interesting! His fire made Zhao's crew literally run away while incinerating thd metal chains that Katara, Sokka, Shyu, and Zuko were wrapped around with,, unharmed. Him simultaneously bending all four elements at once without the use of the avatar state? Gosh,, people underestimate him sooooo much !!

"But Roku died to a volcano! He should've evacuated-" He was minimizing the effects of it! He died as a hero in that night because no other people held power his power just like he has. The citizens and his wife would've died if it weren't for him, because while it isn't explicitly explained in his wiki and show -  Lava entering the ocean creates a distinctive set of hazards that have seriously injured or killed unsuspecting people eager to see up close the interaction of hot lava and cool seawater. As hot lava boils cool seawater, a series of chemical and physical reactions create a mixture of condensed, acidic steam, hydrochloric acid gas, and tiny shards of volcanic glass. Blown by wind, this plume creates a noticeable downwind haze, known as "laze" (short for lava haze) <- [From "Lava entering ocean" | U.S Geological Survey - USGS.gov] ||And to also answer the dragon part that died with him? I have no answer for that other than the plot has to move on /or the dragon relies on his orders, and to Roku's dying breath, he would rather stay with him.

And nobody talks about how painful and traumatizing Roku's death is - pyroclastic flow is apart of volcano, he either died burning alive, suffocated, or even buried alive! On the margins of pyroclastic flows, death and serious injury to people and animals may result from burns and inhalation of hot ash and gases. Archaeologists have found that some people perished in a pyroclastic surge, a wave of superheated gas and hot ash that literally boiled their blood and caused their skulls to explode, reports Neel V. Patel at Popular Science. <- [Pyroclastic Flows move fast and destroying everything in their path" | U.S Geological survey] AND ["Mount Vesuvius Boiled Its Victims’ Blood and Caused Their Skulls to Explode" by Jason Delay]

But in a summary, I love Roku and I would die to honor his name. Thank you for reading through all of this. Love you guys !! /platonically