#in general their characters are great and not what i expected. i was scared of it being regressive but not at all

[cloudbends]

Also I can't believe I'm saying this about a persona 5 spinoff but p5t is actually... Surprisingly good? The character dynamics within the phantom thieves are much more fleshed out (which is something I always took issue with in the original game), the character screentime is a lot more balanced and mostly no flanderisation (aka yusuke gets to Do Things for once, makoto gets to Not Do Everything thank god, morgana is the most likeable he's ever been to me), the new characters are incredibly fun and executed very well especially for spinoff-only characters, the plot concepts are interesting, the sprites are very fun and expressive, like. idk I just didn't expect it to make up for some of my issues with the main game tbh!! a pleasant surprise for sure

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Gift

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Virgin f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Period typical sexism and treatment of women, period-typical ideas of virginity and virtue, Marcus is a bit rude at first but he comes around quickly, attempted assault that is heavily implied to be sexual, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, wound care, yearning, virginity loss, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, mushy endings :)

Summary: The Emperor of Rome has given his most valued General, Marcus Acacius, a generous gift after his recent successful battle. Rather than the gold he’s hoping for, Marcus is stunned when a young virgin is delivered to his chambers. At first, he refuses to entertain the idea of stealing the virtue of a scared girl, but their lives become entwined when he learns that refusing his ‘gift’ puts her in even more danger…

A/N: The art in the header is by @norththelemon and is inspired by Paulo and Virginia by Alessandro Puttinati. Thank you so much for letting me use this artwork for my fic!!! <3 The artwork does not necessarily reflect the appearance of the reader character; rather, it is a reflection of the original artwork. The only physical description I included of reader is that she has long, curly hair (color and texture are never mentioned). Marcus’s pet name for her, bellatora, very loosely translates to “little warrior.” Thank you to the lovely @leslie-lyman for the beta! **NOTE: as attempted SA can be triggering to some people, I have separated out this section with asterisks (******). You can quickly skip this scene and you will not miss any significant plot. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to send me a DM! Be safe <3

Masterlist

Marcus rides through the streets of Rome, the cheers of citizens ringing in his ears and the white petals being thrown from above him sticking in his curls. The populus is joyful, but he cannot help but think of the cost of the battle, about the sons and husbands who he knows are not returning home.

He longs for a bath, to wash the grime, dirt and blood from his body. He longs to strip off the heavy, soiled armor and lay down on his bed, naked and warm and full of bread and wine, and sleep for several days.

First, however, he must endure the long procession up to the palace, where the Emperor was surely waiting for him–where he would have to play all the little games that come with positions of power: smile, nod, say the right words and act in the ways that other people expect of a General.

The horse whinnies nervously as the cacophony swells, and Marcus gently pats its neck, sending a cascade of petals to the ground to be trodden underfoot by so many hooves.

The Emperor waits at the top of the Palace steps, surrounded by all of his court and Roman nobility. Without allowing any of the contempt he feels to show on his face, Marcus Acacius dismounts from the horse and slowly ascends the marble stairs. When he reaches the top, the Emperor pulls him into an exaggerated hug, slapping his back and cheering loudly enough for the onlookers to hear.

“Congratulations to you, my friend, for your triumph and victory over the vanquished,” the man booms, slapping Marcus's pauldron again for good measure and causing another great cheer to rise up from the crowd.

Marcus does not say anything, but he turns to face the onlookers and unsheathes his sword, raising it over his head victoriously, knowing that's what they all want him to do. The resulting din seems to rattle the very stones of the palace.

“You must be weary, good soldier,” the Emperor tells him. “Go now and rest. A gift will be sent to your chambers to show your Emperor’s appreciation for your prowess in battle.”

Marcus nods and bows deeply, indicating his gratitude for his Lord's generosity. He's most thankful, however, for the quick dismissal.

The General’s quarters in the palace are spacious and outfitted with all modern amenities Marcus could ever think to ask for. He quickly lights a fire under the basin to begin heating water for a bath. He begins removing his armor, leaving it by the door where he knows it will be collected for cleaning and polishing. He discards the filthy underclothing and retrieves a clean cloth with which to wash.

It is only now that Marcus is able to take sock tock of his injuries; as the grime is wiped clean from his body, he can finally see where the blood was his, and where the blood was not his. His arms are peppered with bruises and superficial wounds, but nothing that requires any dressing. 

He is lucky. 

Marcus dresses in loose robes, luxuriating in the feeling of being free and unencumbered by his armor. With a deep, satisfied sigh, he settles himself down on the bed, surrounded by the ornate pillows that come with Palace trappings, and closes his eyes.

They’ve barely been closed for a few minutes when a knock sounds at the door. 

Marcus frowns. All his joints and muscles protest when he reluctantly rises from the bed again and opens the door. He’s greeted by one of the Emperor’s personal guard, who is roughly holding the upper arm of a young girl.

“What is the meaning of this?” Marcus asks hesitantly, taking in the girl’s simple, white shift that clings to her breasts and hips, her trembling lips, and her wide, terrified eyes.

“The Emperor, in his generosity, presents you with this virgin as reward for your duty to Rome,” the guard announces. He pushes the girl forward into Marcus’s chambers and shuts the door behind him.  

“What in the Gods’...” the General murmurs under his breath as you are shoved unceremoniously into the room.

You curtsy deeply, remembering, despite your fear, what you have been instructed to do. “M-My Lord,” you whisper through trembling lips. You can only stare at the floor, unable to look at the man to whom you have been gifted.

“I had been hoping for gold,” the man grumbles. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

He sounds angry. This terrifies you more.

“I am f-for your… p-pleasure,” you try to explain. “My Lord.” You deepen the curtsy, until your knees nearly scrape the floor. If you please him, perhaps he will not be unkind.

“Stop that. Get up.” the man snaps. “I’m not in the mood for deflowering virgins.”

“S-Sir?” You don’t understand. You weren’t prepared for the man to say no. You were bathed, dressed, and told that you were to be a gift for a mighty general. You were to please him, let him bed you, and serve him until he tired of you. You were instructed to kneel, to address him as only “My Lord,” and to do whatever he asked of you. Only then would the debt your father owed to the Emperor be paid in full. 

You were not given instructions on what to do if the General refused his gift.

“D-Do I not please My Lord?” you try again. Terrified of being turned away, sent back to your father, where they’d surely kill you both, you begin to cry.

“By the Gods–stop, come here,” the General says, sounding exasperated. He gently leads you to a chair and indicates you should sit. You do. He crouches on his heels so that your heads are level, and examines you. “Who are you, girl?”

“I… am the only daughter of Proculus Opilio,” you sniffle. “I am a gift for his Lord’s pleasure.”

The man’s fingers take hold of your chin; his hands are gentle as he guides your eyes up to his. “Why are you a gift,” he presses.

“M-My family owes a great debt,” you whisper. “I am to be payment for our transgressions against the Emperor.”

“The Emperor sends me a frightened child,” the man growls as he quickly stands and paces away from you, “and calls it a gift.”

“You must accept,” you say frantically, hopping up from your seat and following him. “They will know if you do not, and we will be punished for it.”

The general scoffs. “What, they intend on checking?” he asks, as if such a thing is too ridiculous to be spoken aloud.

“Yes,” you whisper. They told you as such.

“Girl,” he says sternly. “I am not going to enact such violence on a scared child.”

“I am not a child,” you argue, sticking your chin up. “I have seen nineteen summers, almost twenty.”

The General seems to find this funny. He huffs, shaking his head and turning away. “Go home, girl.”

“I cannot go home,” you say, and start to cry again. 

“Stop. Stop,” the man entreats. He turns toward you again and cages your face in his hands, rubbing the tears away with his thumbs. “Okay. Do not worry, I will… Gods, I will help. You and your family will come to no harm.”

“Thank you,” you say emphatically, your hands coming up to your shoulders in preparation to unclasp your shift.

“No! Stop!” You freeze again, eyes wide.

The General softens, and gentles his words. “Please stop. I am weary from battle and I need to sleep. Please… let us both rest, and after that we may discuss this with level heads.”

“Of course, My Lord,” you nod, curtsying again. 

“Marcus.”

“...My Lord?”

“Call me Marcus. I am no Lord.”

“As you wish, My Lord.” It comes out automatically.

The General–Marcus–raises one eyebrow.

“...Marcus.” You watch as the man pads over to the bed and collapses onto it with a heavy sigh. 

“You may sleep here, you may sleep elsewhere, it does not concern me,” he mumbles, eyes already closed. “I am not long for this world and will be unconscious for quite some time, I imagine.”

His words are correct; within a matter of minutes the man is snoring. 

Alone and scared, you sink back down into the chair, and begin to cry again.

Marcus wakes with something tickling his nose. Opening his eyes, he’s greeted by a mass of curls on his pillow, framing the angelic face of… 

Oh.

He had forgotten about you. At some point, you had clearly decided to sleep as well, because you are curled up next to him, your hands clasped under your chin and your lips slightly parted in sleep. This is the first time he’s seen your face not terrified, and he realizes that you are really quite beautiful.

He does not know what to do with you. 

Marcus has never had a shortage of willing partners, and he is uninterested in the alternative. You are pretty, young, and soft, but he is not the sort of man to force himself on a woman. Even if you did ask him in no uncertain terms to do so, it would not be for the right reasons. 

He needs to find a way out of this situation, ideally with his life, your life, and the lives of your family still intact; he did not wade through the blood and mire of battlefield just to condemn an innocent woman to death.

“Girl,” he says lowly, and your eyes open quickly. They go wide at his proximity, and you scramble back a few inches, creating more space between you.

“H-Hello,” you greet him shakily. 

“Good morn,” he replies. “How are you feeling?”

“Well-rested, My Lo–Marcus.” You offer him a small, timid smile. 

Marcus glances toward the window. “It must be almost midday,” he says, noticing the angle of the sun. He’d fallen asleep yesterday in the late afternoon, slept all night, and through the morning. He hopes you did the same. 

“I am famished.” He gets up from the bed–Gods, his muscles still ache–and pads toward the door to his chambers. “With any luck, this morning’s breakfast will still be outside.” 

It feels like the only act of providence that has happened since his return to the Palace that the breakfast tray is still there, laden with fresh bread and fruit. He carries it inside and sets it on the small table in his chambers. He grabs a piece of bread with one hand and beckons you over with the other, too hungry to be polite and wait for you before tearing a piece off with his teeth. He finishes the bread in a few bites, but you still stand near the bed, unmoving and watching him with wary eyes.

“Come. Eat.” Marcus grabs another piece of bread and a handful of grapes. 

Hesitantly, you approach the table, looking like a wild animal unsure of whether the human offering you food can be trusted.

“I do not bite, girl,” he grumbles. 

You snatch a loaf off of the table and retreat backwards a couple of paces, breaking off small pieces and popping them into your mouth as you continue to stare at him. 

“What will you do with me?” you ask.

“Do with you?” Marcus laughs humorlessly. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, beginning to sound angry. Good. Marcus would rather you be anything but the timid, scared girl that was shoved into his chambers. “So you would condemn my family to death?”

“I am not going to take an unwilling woman to bed,” he growls, taking more grapes from the tray and popping them into his mouth. 

“Most people would do far worse to save the life of a loved one,” you argue. 

Marcus scoffs. “I’ve seen and done things you could not imagine, girl. If losing your maidenhood is the worst thing you can conceive of–”

“It is not,” you snap, stamping your foot in a show of exasperated petulance. “If you are not going to help me, then… I—I hope the gods curse you!” you finish lamely. You spin on your heels and retreat to the corner of his room, sitting down on a chair and crossing your arms with a huff. 

Marcus closes his eyes. He is being too harsh with her, too cruel. He has spent too long shouting orders at his men of late, and not enough time offering comfort or kind words. He grimaces and approaches you with caution. You glare at him, and he doesn’t blame you, but he slowly sinks to his knees in front of you before speaking.

“I have been unkind,” he says softly. “Please forgive my rudeness.”

He watches as your pretty eyes narrow, then widen, then narrow again as a number of emotions seem to flicker across your face. Your lips part, but you don’t respond, and Marcus forges on.

“I did not ask to be put in this situation, and neither did you. I made a promise to you last night that you and your family will come to no harm, but we must work together to keep you safe.”

“Would it not be easier to simply take your ‘gift’?” you sniffle, jutting your chin out and trying–unsuccessfully, he thinks to himself–to be brave.

Marcus chuckles softly, reaching forward and gently grasping both of your hands. “I have committed enough violence in the name of Emperor and Country to last a man several lifetimes. I may not have been as kind as I should have been to you, but I will not take the innocence of a scared girl who is being used as a pawn in the evil games of powerful men.”

You sniffle again, wiping your nose on the back of one hand. “Sometimes I wish I could just be free of this cursed ‘gift’ of innocence and lose all value to men like that.”

Marcus huffs in amusement. “Do you, now?”

You sigh, turning and looking out of the window. “How nice it would be to be valued for other qualities, instead,” you murmur, speaking more to yourself than to him. When you turn back to look at him, you ask, “How will you–we–subvert the wishes of the Emperor himself?”

Ah. He was rather hoping you wouldn’t ask, at least not yet. Truthfully, he has no idea; all he can really hope to do is attempt to sway the Emperor in some way, or at the very least, buy him some time. 

“I will request an audience,” Marcus tells you. “I must go soon to debrief with the other generals, and he will be in attendance. I will speak to him, garner favor…” he trails off, knowing how vague and uncertain he sounds. 

“You would really take such a risk for me…?” you ask hesitantly. 

“The Emperor, in his wisdom, has bestowed upon me a gift,” Marcus says sardonically. “And as I see it, that gift is now mine, and is under my protection.” He gently cups your cheek, letting his palm rest against the slightly damp skin. “We will use his… generosity… to our advantage.”

He stands, letting his fingers trail across your jaw before pulling his hand back. “I must go. Do not open the door to anyone while I am gone.”

In the General’s absence, you finish off the rest of the breakfast tray, which was plentiful. With a full belly, you wander around the man’s chambers, exploring the space that will also be yours for the foreseeable future. You wash in the basin, splashing cool water on your face and sighing in relief. For the first time in over a day, you are finally able to breathe and take stock of your situation.

You should be grateful, really. The General Marcus, although gruff and tactless at times, seems to be a caring, even kind man. You believe him when he says he will protect you, protect your family, even though you have nothing to give him in return. Nothing he wishes to take, at any rate. 

Your eyes fall on an ornate dagger sitting on a table near the window, and you cannot help but think of the way his hands–the same hands that would fiercely wield a weapon to slice through skin and bone–so gently touched your face. 

A loud knock on the door to Marcus’s chambers startles him out of your reverie. A soft noise of surprise escapes you before you are able to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle it. You can tell that whoever is on the other side of the door has heard you, because they pause, listening, and then knock again.

The handle rattles as someone on the other side turns it back and forth, testing the strength of the lock, and your heart pounds with trepidation. 

They cannot get in. They cannot get in. They cannot get in. You repeat the phrase over and over in your head, but then you hear the distinct click as the lock is bypassed or picked, and the door swings wide.

“Well, well, well,” a man in ornate robes sneers. “It appears the rumors are true.”

**********************************

Another man in similar garb pushes past him. “Our beloved general has a new toy.” The words are dripping in sarcasm.

You back up against the wall, and the table next to you rattles when you bump it with your hip. Quickly, you pick up the dagger and point it at the intruders.

Both men guffaw loudly, slapping their knees and shoving each others’ shoulders in their apparent mirth. “She has teeth, she does!” one of them jeers.

“Tell us, did you bite the General when he stuck you?”

The men lunge forward, and you slash with the blade. One of them howls, clutching at his arm, where red is already beginning to well up between his fingers, but you are unused to wielding weapons and the second man rips it from your grasp easily.

“You little bitch,” the injured one spits, and slaps you, hard, with his good hand, the blood from his injury splashing your face and your white robes. You crumple in an instant, clutching your cheek, as the two men close in.

“I bet she squeals nice and loud,” one of them growls menacingly as he reaches for you.

*************************************

A loud bang from behind the men makes them startle. You look for the source, and see the General standing in the doorway with fury in his eyes. He wrenches another dagger from its scabbard and, with no warning, lunges forward and plunges it into the neck of the man who had reached for you. With a sickening gurgle, the man collapses instantly, and red blood begins to pool underneath him. Marcus rips the dagger from the man’s neck and points it at the second man as he shoves him against the wall, who immediately begins to whimper and shake his head. 

“Sniveling cur,” the General spits. “I would happily kill you both, but you are going to deliver a message for me instead.” At the man’s frantic nod, he continues. “It seems that some need reminding that I am not to be trifled with,” Marcus snarls. “And the next person who disrespects me by harming my property will be dealt with in the same manner as your friend. Now. Go.” 

The man bolts, clutching the wound you had given him.

Marcus’s demeanor immediately changes. He drops the dagger on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands again… hands that are trembling. 

“They hurt you,” he murmurs, his eyes rapidly flicking back and forth over your face, seeing the blood that had spattered on your robes.

“It isn’t mine,” you manage to say, although your voice shakes and your chest heaves with leftover terror. You can’t keep your gaze from landing on the dead man in front of you, his eyes still open and staring sightlessly ahead. “I–your knife I–”

“Okay,” he nods, his thumbs still caressing your cheekbones. “Okay. Shhh. Don’t look at him, look at me.” When you manage to pull your gaze to the General instead, you’re suddenly captivated by his wild, dark eyes. They’re so full of fire, yes, but with that fire brings warmth. He stares at you as if you are a precious object, not some scared little girl covered in blood and cowering against the wall. “Come here,” Marcus says softly. “Let me help you up.”

You surprise even yourself when you automatically lean forward and into the General’s arms. He stiffens, seemingly just as stunned by your trust in him, but he recovers and carefully stands, pulling you up with him and gently turning your body away from the dead man. He leads you forward, and you follow blindly as he guides you down onto a chair. 

“Let me fetch a cloth,” Marcus says, his expression stormy and troubled, “to clean you up. Do not move.”

You nod, watching as he fills a little bowl with water from the basin and comes back to crouch at your feet. “Your cheek,” he murmurs. “Is it very painful?”

You nod again, a few hot tears escaping from your eyes and stinging the small cut in question. 

“I will be as gentle as I can,” Marcus promises. “But it must be cleaned.”

You shut your eyes as his fingers carefully grasp your chin, using his hold to tilt your head and grant him easier access. The cloth is cold against the burning skin of your cheek, and you cannot stop the soft whimper that leaves your lips. Gently, the General dabs the little wound, dipping the cloth in water over and over and soothing the tender skin as he wipes it clean of dirt and blood.

Once satisfied with your cheek, he cleans the man’s blood off of the rest of your face and neck, as well as the few droplets that had landed on your hands from the other man as he was stabbed. 

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely as he gently turns one hand over and dabs away the last remaining spot of blood on the inside of your wrist. 

“You should not be thanking me,” Marcus says, voice tinged with bitterness. “It is because of me that you came to harm.”

“Yet it is also because of you that I was not harmed further,” you tell him quietly. Your eyes dart toward the body in a pool of blood still lying on the floor, and quickly look away again. “You killed a man for me.”

“You are under my protection,” Marcus says solemnly. “I do not take that vow lightly.”

As your heartbeat finally begins to slow, the deep terror that had been swirling inside you leaves, replaced with bone-weary fatigue. Your vision swims and your head sways slightly as you suddenly feel that you must fight the urge to fall asleep right here in this chair.

“Something ails me,” you say, alarmed at your darkening vision.

“Battle fatigue,” the General says matter-of-factly. “When the fog of war lifts, sleep often takes its place.”

“I am no soldier,” you protest tiredly. The world shifts–Marcus has scooped you into his arms and is carrying you to his bed, carefully laying you down on the blankets. 

“You are now,” he teases gently. “Victorious little soldier, bellatora, wielding a General’s weapon with ferocity. You even have a battle scar.” His finger gingerly brushes your cheek.

“Will others come?” you ask, struck with a sudden pang of fear even as your eyes threaten to close. 

“No.”

“What if they do?” It’s a silly question, and you aren’t sure why you even gave voice to such a childish fear. Warmth envelops you as Marcus covers your form with a blanket. Your eyes finally close, and the General’s last words seem to come to you through a dream.

“Then I will fight the entire Roman army to keep you safe.”

Marcus Acacius did not want this “gift.” 

He did not want a virgin to deflower, nor a scared girl to comfort, or even a servant that inexplicably tidied his rooms while he was away.

He did not want you. 

But here you are, sitting by his window with a book, eating all of your dinner and a good portion of his, and leaving long, curly hairs on his pillows, by the basin, and even on his armor–something he had discovered during a drill one morning, pulling the offending strand off of his pauldron with a bemused shake of his head. 

He does not want you. He doesn’t want the comb and mirror that now lie on the table by the basin, nor the extra rags he had to ask a servant for–ears burning bright red–when your… er… monthlies arrived. He does not want to spend his wages on new robes for you, but he hardly has a choice, not when your thin white shift became filthy with blood the night that he–

Gods.

The night that he almost lost you.

If his meeting had gone just five minutes longer, he would have been too late. He would have arrived to a much different scene, and he knows he would have killed every inhabitant of the palace in retribution.

This is how he knows that he cannot trust his own feelings when it comes to you. What should be an unwanted inconvenience in his life has quickly become much, much more. He acts like a man in love, the way he buys you trinkets and brings you sweets, but no matter how he twists the story in his own head, he cannot deny the truth: you are a captive. His captive.

As if to punctuate his thoughts, a wealthy merchant crosses his path in the bustling market, followed by another man carrying all of the man’s wares for him, purposely walking several paces behind as is the custom for slaves.

Marcus can dress you in all the finery his salary can afford, but that does not change the fact that you were intended to be a slave for his pleasure. 

He already has his intended prize from the market–a parcel containing two pieces of sweetbread tucked under one arm–but perhaps it is guilt over your imprisonment that causes his head to wander to the stall of jewelry to his left. 

“Trinkets for a special someone,” says a middle-aged woman wearing kohl eyeliner and almost as many beads around her own neck as are displayed in her stall. She shoots Marcus a knowing smirk as his fingers reach out to graze a length of beads of palest pink. 

“Rose quartz,” the woman tells him. “For love, compassion, and emotional healing.”

Rose quartz. He cannot help but picture the pretty, pale beads glowing, luminous against the soft skin of your neck.

“How much?” His voice is rough and thick. 

The woman’s smile widens.

They cost almost an entire weeks’ salary, and he’s never spent such a sum on anything for himself, let alone something so frivolous, but he’s already reaching for his purse.

You grin widely at Marcus’s return–a sight that makes his heart swell when he remembers how frightened you were of him on that first night. You make little grabbing motions with your hands, causing him to laugh as he hands over the parcel of sweetbread. You take your piece and hand him the other, hardly waiting until he’s taken it before you’re biting into the sweet dough with a sound of pleasure that goes straight to his nether regions. 

He thinks of the necklace, wrapped in cloth and hidden in his robes, but he is struck with a moment of uncharacteristic cowardice, and he leaves it where it is. 

“Tell me about the market,” you say wistfully. 

“Too crowded,” Marcus grunts before taking a bite of his own sweetbread. 

You seem to find his cantankerous nature funny, for Gods know what reason, and the pretty sound of your laughter fills the room–and his mind.

“There are a number of visitors for some play at the amphitheater tonight,” he explains further, shrugging slightly.

You suddenly exclaim in delight, startling him a little. “I love the amphitheater,” you say emphatically. “My father often had to punish me for sneaking in to see plays against his wishes when I was a little girl.”

Marcus chuckles, picturing a smaller version of you, but no less fiery.

“It was worth it,” you laugh. You pop the last piece of sweetbread into your mouth and suck each finger clean of the sticky dough in turn. Marcus should look away, but he’s entranced by the way your lips close around each digit, leaving clean, shiny skin in your wake.

He blames this momentary onset of utter madness for the words that leave his mouth next.

“Would you like to go see it? The play?”

 The pure delight that washes over your face is enough to make Marcus want to take you to a different play every night, but after too short a time, you are frowning warily.

“Would that be wise?” you ask. “Is it not dangerous for me to leave your quarters?”

“You would be seen as my consort,” Marcus answers. “No harm will come to you, bellatora.”

“Your… your consort?” 

“You cannot be a prisoner in these walls for the rest of your days,” he tells you softly. “If we play the parts we have been given–the General and his consort–no one will question it. They wouldn’t dare, not after my warning. The entire palace knows that I will gladly kill anyone who threatens you.”

You duck your head, looking down at your hands. Marcus wonders if you’re frightened of him, still. 

“Everyone will see my act as one of possession,” he says. “Of territoriality. If we allow them to draw that conclusion, they will never suspect any different.”

You nod, biting your lower lip and giving him a timid smile that slowly spreads across your face and turns into something bright and joyful. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

“The play will end before we even arrive, bellatora,” Marcus grouses from the main chamber. 

“Patience,” you snap from the washroom. The stupid elaborate hairstyle that you keep trying to braid your hair into keeps falling out, and you’re beginning to feel frustrated. With a heavy sigh, you settle for a simpler plait that falls over one shoulder. You’re wearing one of the nicer gowns that Marcus has gifted you–robes of deep emerald green, but you still worry that you look far too common to be an appropriate consort to a General.

Since when has such a thing become a concern for you? Despite the roles you are forced to play, Marcus is not your consort, nor your lover. He has made it clear he will never touch you, so why are you hiding in the washroom, worrying over your appearance?

With a pained sigh, you shake yourself, square your shoulders, and turn to face the General.

“Ready,” you announce, and the man in question looks up.

His lips part slightly, a little crease forming on his brow as his eyebrows raise. He fixes you with that look–the one he keeps giving you lately. It’s as if he’s in a constant state of surprise every time he sees you, as if you aren’t a permanent fixture in his rooms and could disappear at any moment. 

“What?” you finally ask. 

Marcus seems to shake himself out of his stupor. “It is missing something.”

The statement confuses you. “I–I have nothing else to–” You cut yourself off as the man seems to be digging through his clothing, looking for what, you do not know.

“I thought this would suit you,” he says quietly, as he retrieves a small parcel and holds it out for you to take.

You hesitate, frowning. “What is it?”

Marcus huffs softly with impatience and opens the parcel himself, revealing the prettiest strand of stones you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh,” you gasp. 

“Do you…” the man in front of you clears his throat and shifts in his stance, “Do you like it?” he asks gruffly.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I like it.”

Wordlessly, he removes it from the cloth and moves behind you to clasp it at the back of your neck. You can’t help the wide smile that breaks across your face at the feel of the cool beads resting against your throat. Gently, you touch the necklace with your fingers and turn to look at Marcus. “Does it look pretty?” you ask, still grinning at him.

The General’s face is almost pained when he returns your gaze. His eyes don’t leave yours when he softly answers, “Yes.”

Marcus Acacius has never been much for plays, but never before has he experienced seeing one with you. He can’t help cracking a small smile himself every time you let out a joyful peal of laughter, which you do often, as the story is a humorous one. 

The necklace suits you just as he thought it would, but your beauty almost makes the stones appear dull in comparison. If anyone were to ask him, Marcus would say that your smile could outshine all of Rome. Pretending that you are his consort is far too easy; your delicate fingers find the crook of his elbow without prompting when he offers his arm to you as you walk through the streets when the show ends. Your eyes always seem to find his, your face bright and hopeful and oh so lovely as you look up at him. 

“Marcus?” 

He’s been lost in his thoughts again. He grunts and nods to you as the two of you walk back to the palace, when you suddenly stop. 

“I want to tell you…” you begin, wringing your hands together nervously. 

“What is it, bellatora?” Marcus asks with concern.

“I want to tell you that I am… very happy,” you say, ducking your head and avoiding his gaze. 

“I am glad that you enjoyed the play,” Marcus says hesitantly, wondering what is making you suddenly be so… shy.

“With you,” you add quietly. “It’s not only the play, it’s… it’s just you, Marcus.” The final word is almost a plea, with how earnestly it leaves your lips. “I–I want you to know that I would. I would be your consort, i-if you wanted, and I’d–”

Marcus closes the small distance between you and presses his lips against yours. You yield to him immediately, your small hands moving up the planes of his chest and coming to rest at his jaw. You kiss with the slight timidness of someone unfamiliar with how to do it, but oh, he’s happy to guide you. One of his hands gently cups your neck, the other caresses your cheek and it’s all he can do to keep the kiss chaste and not frighten you by backing you up against the wall of the alleyway and opening his mouth to you. 

When he releases your lips, you chase him–leaning forward with your mouth still pouted and your eyes closed, as though you cannot bear to be parted from him, and it takes a herculean effort not to indulge.

“Come,” Marcus murmurs softly, his thumb tracing back and forth over your cheekbone, watching as you flutter your eyes open and look at him with an expression of such open trust and want that he feels as though he’ll burn from the inside out. “Come, let us go home.”

You are ablaze.

Marcus’s hands seem to burn with heat as he guides you hastily through the palace and to his familiar quarters, but their temperature still seems to pale in comparison to the heat that rises within you. 

Once inside, he kisses you again, and you swear your knees could simply buckle and give out just at the feel of his lips on yours. You crave it again and again; your hands grip at his robes to hold him close to you, hoping he’ll never stop. 

“Sweet girl, little bellatora,” Marcus murmurs, his lips dragging from your mouth across your cheek to the side of your neck and oh, you like that even more–your head falls to the side and your back arches as you all but beg for his lips on your skin again. His hand on your lower back guides you even closer until your bodies are pressing together and you gasp softly at the feeling of his body against yours.

“Tell me,” he whispers in your ear, his lips grazing the shell of your earlobe and causing a cascade of shivers to course through you. “Tell me that you want this. If you do not, deny me now, and I promise I will never touch you again.”

“No,” you whimper automatically. “No, please don’t stop, just–”

“Shhh, bellatora.” Marcus seems to crumple with relief, leaning forward until your back hits the wall and his lips ravish your neck once again. “I won’t stop, just tell me you want me like this.”

“Yes,” you gasp, as the General’s hands cage your face and his mouth meets yours once again. “Yes, yes, yes–” You repeat the word over and over into his mouth, until he groans softly and parts his lips too, deepening the kiss and tasting you with his tongue.

His hands caress your neck, fingertips running up and down before settling on the clasps on your shoulders. “Let me see you,” he whispers. “Please, let me–”

You pull back, looking in his eyes as you nod slowly, giving him permission. He carefully undoes your dress, letting the fabric fall and pool at your feet. The necklace is still around your neck, and he touches the beads lightly as he stares at the sight before him.

“Oh, Gods…” Marcus murmurs to himself, shaking his head in awe. “What a divine gift you are, bellatora.”

His eyes rake over your breasts, your hips, the swell of your stomach, and the fire burning within threatens to consume you. With one more soft kiss, he whispers, “Come to the bed, so I may worship you properly.”

You let him lead you, keeping your eyes on him as he takes your hands in his and pulls you toward the bed. You are too consumed with flames to feel fear of this moment, but a pang of nervousness thrums within you despite yourself. 

Marcus guides you down until you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. You begin to scoot backwards–you might not have much experience, but you know you’re supposed to be lying on the bed–when he stops you, and instead sinks to his knees in front of you. 

“I–” you begin, unsure of what to do.

“I want you to watch,” the General whispers, looking up at you in the same way an acolyte may look up at a temple. “I want you to see me.”

Slowly, cautiously, as if he’s afraid of spooking you, he guides your legs open until you’re splayed out in front of him. You would be embarrassed, but for the hungry look in his eyes, how his chest seems to heave in anticipation, and the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips as if he’s about to enjoy a feast.

When he leans forward, his mouth moving toward you, you gasp and stiffen, and he pauses.

“Trust me,” he soothes. “It will feel good, I promise.”

You swallow thickly and relax again, watching as Marcus comes even closer, until he’s able to press a kiss right on–

“Oh,” you whimper softly. 

Emboldened, he angles his mouth against you and licks. The sensation of his tongue through your folds causes you to collapse backwards on your elbows, your head falling back and your eyes closing as you gasp toward the ceiling. 

“Watch,” Marcus reminds you. 

With you half-sprawled on the bed, your legs fall open even further and his hands wind underneath your hips as he pulls you even closer onto his mouth. His tongue, his lips… oh, it’s so decadent; you’ve never felt pleasure like this by your own hand. He thrusts his tongue into you, and you can only whine and babble wordlessly, your eyes wide as you dutifully watch him please you. He alternates between these deep, overwhelming strokes of his tongue and little licks right on the little bundle of nerves above, back and forth, back and forth until your entire body shakes. 

“Exquisite,” Marcus rasps, his voice rough with exertion and pleasure. His lips close around you and he sucks gently, and the fire within you burns until it reaches a crescendo, until finally, you fall.

“Bellatora.” The endearment is laden with affection, and when you slowly blink your eyes open, the General is smiling down at you. “Are you with me, mi bellatora?”

You giggle. “I think so.”

He must have disrobed while your eyes were closed; you stare at his slightly golden chest, at the light dusting of hair and freckles, and further down, where–

Oh, Gods. 

Marcus hangs thick, heavy, and proud, and you swallow in trepidation at the thought of all of that inside you.

“Don't look at that; look at me.” The words are soothing, but tinged with humor, and you can see the mirth sparkling in his eyes when you do as he asks and look at him.

“Let us just lie down together,” he says, smiling. “Nothing more.”

You scoot up until your head rests against the pillows, and Marcus crawls over you with a smirk, pressing little kisses up your body as he goes, until he lies down beside you and pulls you into his arms.

With your back against his chest, you can't exactly forget about the hard length of him, as it's currently pressing insistently against you. You wiggle, arching your back and trying to soothe the empty ache that still seems to reside within you. 

“Feeling greedy, mi bellatora?” 

You whine softly and push back against him harder. His arms are wrapped around you, but somehow, it’s still not enough. You want him everywhere, you need everything. 

“What have you done to me?” you laugh softly. 

“Nothing you have not also done to me,” Marcus murmurs, nipping your shoulder playfully. 

“I have done nothing,” you say airily, leaning further back into his embrace.

“Oh, you have,” he growls. “You have invaded my quarters–”

“That is hardly my doing–”

“–and shortly after, invaded my heart,” Marcus continues, ignoring your interruption. “You have made me crave as I never have before.”

“You have made me feel the same,” you whisper. “I have never… felt anything like this before.”

“Mi bellatora,” he breathes against your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Do not be cruel.”

“Cruel?”

“You are denying me.”

At your playful accusation, Marcus suddenly shifts, rising up from beside you and pinning you to the bed with his body. “And it is taking the effort of every bone in my body, more challenging than all twelve labors of Hercules.”

“Then stop,” you tell him softly, reaching up to palm his cheek. “Stop denying us what we both want.”

Rather than answer, the General lowers his mouth to yours. 

Kissing might be your new favorite thing–you thought the feel of Marcus’s lips was the most perfect thing you’d ever felt when he kissed you in the alleyway, but here, in his bed, with the weight of his body pressing deliciously down on you, his kisses feel even more profound. His hips roll gently against you, and you instinctively wrap one leg around his thigh to try and relieve your desire for more friction. 

The action causes Marcus to groan and bury his face in your neck, his light beard scraping against your skin. Your hips cant upward unconsciously, and the skin of his cock catches and rubs against your folds. 

With a little moan, you press against him harder, wanting more, more–

“Bellatora,” Marcus groans. He props himself on one elbow over you, spits on the other hand and rubs the wetness onto the head of his cock. He repeats the motion again, and then gently rubs the remainder onto you, making you arch back with a surprised gasp. 

“I know, I know,” he murmurs. “It’ll be easier like this.”

He lines up the thick head of him with your entrance and pushes the tip in ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as you feel him, your mouth falling open as you stare up at him in awe.

“That’s it, just look at me,” Marcus murmurs. “Just keep looking at me.”

His face is so close to yours that your breaths mingle as he slowly slides in. You expect it to hurt, but you’re so soaked from his earlier attentions that it’s almost easy for him, at first. When he’s only about halfway in, though, you start to feel unbearably full–too full–and it makes you whimper softly and squirm against him.

“Breathe for me,” Marcus reminds you. “Breathe, mi bellatora.”

In between more kisses and soft praises, he pushes forward, bit by bit, until you can feel his body fully pressing against your core.

“Oh,” you whisper, smiling shakily. “I can feel you.”

Marcus chuckles. “And I, you.”

He stays just there, unmoving, stroking your face, until you begin to squirm with impatience again.

“I don’t want to hurt you, bellatora,” he says softly. “Please, love, tell me if I do.”

You nod, wide-eyed and enraptured by the feeling of being utterly filled. With one last gently kiss to your cheekbone, Marcus carefully begins to move. His cock drags slowly back and forth against your walls, and each time he buries himself to the hilt once again, it sends sparks of pleasure all over your body.

Your exhales turn high and breathy, little whimpers and gasps escaping every time Marcus reaches the end of you. You cling to his shoulders, the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his curls, eliciting a deep groan and a change in the rhythm of his thrusts as he gains confidence that you aren’t in any pain. 

The faster Marcus’s hips move, the more it seems to send you into a frenzy. Your legs wrap around his hips and your grip on his upper body tightens as the fire within you starts to build again. 

Your lips seek any available skin they can find, pressing open-mouthed against his jaw, his neck, his upper arm, anywhere you can reach. One of Marcus’s hands gently cups the back of your neck for leverage as he grinds against you; the other wanders up and down your body–gripping your hip, squeezing your breast and pressing his thumb against your nipple, stroking your cheek as he kisses you again and again. 

His kisses become more and more messy and frenetic as he loses himself in the pleasure of your body. He pants softly, his voice catching on every exhale, quiet little noises deep in his throat that only you can hear. 

Your bodies move seamlessly together, aided by the light sheen of sweat that beads on your skin. Marcus hand slips in between you, his fingers finding the little bundle of nerves and gently rubbing circles into the skin there.

“Oh, I–I–” you whimper brokenly, drunk on the sensations of pleasure that he’s pulling from your body. “M-Ma–” 

“Say it,” he rasps in your ear. “Please, bellatora.”

“Marcus,” you manage to gasp. 

“Again.”

“M-Marcus, Marcus, oh Gods, I–” 

Your body arches off the bed as the strongest wave of pleasure you’ve ever felt courses through you. You convulse against him, hands scrabbling for a hold on his broad shoulders, gripping him for dear life as though he is the only thing keeping you from being pulled under by the waves. 

Your cries reach a crescendo and Marcus gives you everything–his hips snapping roughly against you as your core continues to flutter weakly. Finally, when your body feels boneless and the fullness of him begins to ache, his thrusts falter and he finally stills, his cock twitching inside of you as he finishes. 

He slips out, frowning slightly with concern when you wince, but continues to hover over you, his eyes sweeping over your face as your breathing slows and your heart quietens. He stays there, stroking your hair and kissing you until his shoulders start to shake with the effort of holding himself over you. 

You fall asleep tangled together, safe and warm in Marcus’s arms.

[Several moons later]

“Must we really go?” you wheedle as you watch the General fiddle with the clasp on his ceremonial robes.

“It is the most effective way to make our little statement, bellatora.” 

You cross your arms and make a show of pouting, although you know Marcus is right. You raise your arms, which are currently holding half of an unfinished braid. “Help me with my hair?” 

Marcus sighs loudly, although you know that, like your feigned petulance, it’s also an act. He takes the braid from you and finishes it before moving to the next section, plaiting it together the way he knows you like. 

“Tell me the statement again.”

He huffs. “You just like hearing me say it.”

“Yes.”

“An act against one of us is an act against both of us,” he murmurs dutifully. “And tantamount to an act of war, to be met with a swift and disproportionate response.”

“You always say that–‘disproportionate response.’ I do not understand what you mean by it.”

“Mmm. An opposing force sends one arrow into my army, I send one back. Proportionate response. Someone sends an arrow into my army, and I reign fire from the sky, burn every building to the ground, kill every citizen and remove them from every map. Disproportionate response.” Marcus finishes your hair and gently drapes the long braid over your shoulder.

“If ever you ask why I was scared of you when first we met, I will refer to you to that statement,” you say wryly. 

“You did ask, mi bellatora.” He picks up a belt and scabbard–similar to his, but smaller, more delicate, and ornate. He fastens it around your waist, cinching your dress and making you feel not only more alluring, but powerful. 

You do a little twirl and turn to him. “Do I look like the consort of an esteemed General?”

Marcus leans in and gently captures your lips with his. “You look like so much more. Now let us go into this den of wolves.”

With your head held high, you walk proudly through the halls at the General’s side, your hand tucked neatly against the crook of his elbow, until you reach the banquet hall, where the Emperor is holding a great feast. In your wildest imagination, you cannot think of a single place you want to avoid more, but you hold Marcus’s earlier promise in your mind as the heads turn to look at your entrance.

This is the last time.

The Emperor, surrounded by his entourage, raises his glass with a shout and a laugh as he sees the two of you. “The good General,” he grins wolfishly. 

“Taking his little plaything out for a walk,” one of the other men sneer. 

“Letting his little pet out of its cage,” adds another, snickering. 

Calmly, you unsheath the beautiful, ceremonial dagger that Marcus had given you as a gift and hold it at your side, just as he’d told you. A powerful warrior does not brandish their weapon or wave it under people’s noses, he had said. A powerful warrior does not need to. They simply remind their enemies that the weapon is there.

“You disrespect me,” you say, keeping your face even and your eyes stern. “And you disrespect my husband.”

Silence falls around the room. The Emperor’s men look at each other, to Marcus, and back to you again, unsure of how to respond. Finally, one of them laughs loudly.

“General Acacius is going soft,” he cackles. “Letting his little toy play pretend that she’s the wife of a noble.”

You fight to keep your expression free of malice or hurt, continuing to face them down calmly, your sword resting at your side. 

“Your gift to the General was far more valuable than you knew,” you say evenly, speaking only to the Emperor. “My family’s debt is paid in full, and I am therefore free to leave the palace at my leisure.”

The Emperor of Rome stares at you with befuddlement, his eyes wide, seemingly completely at a loss for words.

“We take our leave,” you announce with a flourish of a bow. 

“Leave?” The man sputters. “You are my finest General, you cannot–”

“I have given the Empire more than my fair share of years in service,” Marcus says quietly, standing resolutely next to you and placing his hand around your waist. “I find I have seen all I care to see of war, and the rest of my days will be filled with peace.”

Marcus turns to the other generals, who are all watching the confrontation with the Emperor. Without speaking, they draw their swords and hold them aloft in a silent salute to your husband–who solemnly returns the gesture. As you are still holding your dagger, you copy the gesture. This seems to please both him and the other Generals, who all smile. 

Marcus turns to you, beaming with affection and pride. “Let’s go home, bellatora.”

Epilogue

In a small hamlet south of the big city, a villa sits on a small hill overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. 

There is a rumor among some of the residents of the town that the man who lives there used to be a General in the Emperor’s army, but most of the inhabitants agree that this is a ridiculous notion. 

He’s too soft-spoken, you see; his gentle demeanor is unlike that of a soldier. He often likes to sit with his wife and watch the color of the sea change as the sun rises in the morning, savoring the moment of peace before his children wake up. 

There are five of them now–with a sixth on the way. His wife jokes that should she find herself with child for the seventh time, she’s going to feed the man’s privates to their goats. 

Their life is modest, but by all accounts of those who witness it, they are blissfully happy. Their home always seems to be filled with joy, laughter, and no small amount of chaos that always follows young children. They maintain a small farm, raise goats and chickens, and they sell their extra eggs and vegetables at the market every week, accompanied by their five children, who are helpful… to varying degrees.  

Sometimes, late at night, the odd passer-by will see the silhouette of a couple standing on the cliffs overlooking the sea, wrapped in a tender embrace.

They have few visitors, but those who have been inside their villa have noted that two swords are mounted above the front door. One is large, utilitarian, but expertly crafted–with signs of wear that might indicate it has seen more conflict than most. The other is small and elegant, the hilt decorated with precious stones. 

No one has ever dared to ask about them.

[yourdoorisunlocked]

Something Unexpected - Lucifer Headcanons

𝐀/𝐍: A fluffy bulleted fanfic in the form of bulleted points and a dash of headcanons, featuring the apple daddy of hell himself, Lucifer ;)

This is mostly me simping for the short, awkward duck-loving lil guy, and also experimenting with writing for his character.

Anyways, enjoy!

. . .

🎪 When you met Lucifer, you were honestly shell-shocked. He was so... whimsical, and captivating, maybe a bit awkward, and with his ringleader getup, it made him look equally as silly as he seemed. He just... wasn't whom you were expecting at all.

🎪 "Charlie... That's your dad!?"

🎪 "Well... Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?"

🎪 "Look at him!" He didn't seem anything like the Lucifer you'd heard stories of from your parents, who tried to scare you away from debauchery and sin with their over-exaggerated tales from their biblical teachings.

🎪 They didn't exactly pay off, clearly.

🎪 But this? This was absolutely not who you thought you had to protect Charlie from.

🎪 You were the 'mom' of the Hazbin Crew, always looking out for everyone, and earning yourself a soft, irreplaceable spot in their hearts. And you clearly had a soft spot for Charlie, and that set off many initial alarm bells for Lucifer.

🎪 He didn't want to have another Alastor on his hands.

🎪 Lucifer cornered you about this, of course, and you were still grappling with the fact that he wasn't how you thought he was going to be at all.

🎪 And you turned out to be just as unexpected...

🎪 “I’m just worried about her… She has such a big heart, and I just don’t want her to get hurt. I should know what it’s like to be taken advantage of by people I put my trust and love into."

🎪 Though he is slightly curious about that, he decides that perhaps it'd be nice to have someone checking up on Charlie from time to time, and there is no way he's encouraging Alastor's presence anywhere near her.

🎪 You also found his love and overprotectiveness for his daughter quite endearing, although it was insufferable to watch them be so awkward around each other in the beginning.

🎪 So, you agreed to watch over Charlie for Lucifer, making sure to encourage her dreams in his stead. For Charlie's happiness, and because, well, why would you say no? You were already looking after her before.

🎪 As soon as Lucifer leaves, Charlie is bounding up to you with a wide smile, taking your hands in hers and bouncing up and down on the carpeted floors, so hard she's making indents with her hooves.

🎪 "Oh, isn't it great!? He believes in me! Me! I thought that after, well everything that happened with Mom, that he'd..." her eyes grow sullen as the mention of her mother sours her mood, and you brush a hand against her cheek with a gentle, reassuring smile.

🎪 "I have a feeling he always has, Charlie. He just never knew how to say it. And sometimes, when a parent sees themselves in their own children, it... Terrifies them." You turn to an apple-paned window with a melancholic gaze.

🎪 "He's just trying his hardest for you because he doesn't want to see you fall like he did. You can't fall farther than Hell, but if you try..." you trail off, and your implication held heavy in the air.

🎪 "But he loves you, and I know that his pride for you knows no bounds, and nor does his worry, Charlie." The demoness brightens at your words, practically tearing up as she grips your midsection in a hug. "Thank you," she whispers, and you ruffle her pale blonde hair with a fond smile.

🎪 Little did you know, Lucifer had been silently stalking watching the both of you from afar, and he leaves that evening with a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

🎪 As he continues to visit the hotel, he checks in with you for a moment upon the establishment's progress, Charlie, and casual conversation in general.

🎪 As more time passes, and Lucifer makes more and more frequent visits to the hotel - much to Alastor’s chagrin - after spending some precious time in his daughter's company, he'll ask around for your whereabouts.

🎪 You'll both naturally fall into more casual conversation outside of the hotel's progress, and you soon realize that there was more beneath the surface of Hell's estranged ruler.

🎪 Lucifer was captivating, alluring in every form of the word. A creative, inspiring soul who once held dreams and aspirations, and now, the fire that once burned within him was passed onto his daughter.

🎪 And you could see his desperation to keep that flame inside of Charlie alight.

🎪 Lucifer slowly grows fond of your company, giving you little sculptures of ducks, and spending near hours raving about his little creations with you.

🎪 In a haze of his sleep-deprived subconscious, he even made a little duckie for you, complete with all of your defining features that he found the most attractive prominent.

🎪 It ended up being his personal comfort/therapy duck until you found it, and putting together the resemblance, teased him about it slightly, to which he kept stubbornly denying it.

🎪 "Okay, but you have to admit, it's clear where you got your inspiration from," you held the duckie up to your face, noting just how precise Lucifer was when making it. Huh, he really hit the mark with this one.

🎪 The king of Hell turned on his heel, his jacket and hat discarded to the side, and leaving him in his striped circus-patterned dress shirt and ivory slacks.

🎪 "I don't know what you're talking about," Lucifer bent over his desk, trying to look like he was actually doing something, but his heart and mind were going a mile a minute. Damn his adorable hyperfixations!

🎪 "Maybe it was just coincidence! I don't know, sometimes I get inspired by things that I..." he glanced at you as you raised an eyebrow at him, and the small red circles plastered against his moonlight-stricken skin glowed a bright red.

🎪 "J-Just coincidence. Uh-huh, that's right..." he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince you, or himself with that one.

🎪 Oh, yeah, you totally bought that bullshit.

🎪 "Well, for what it's worth, you did a pretty good job. This is your best one, yet!" You beam at him and tuck the small duck figure under your arm.

🎪 "So... can I keep it? Pretty please?"

🎪 Lucifer shoves some papers and blueprints off of his desk, completely focused on his work instead of how beautiful your smile was. "No."

🎪 After that, he creates a little duck of himself to keep beside the one in your likeness upon his desk whenever you aren't around. He inches them closer together every now and then or whenever he gets nervous or jittery.

🎪 Slowly but surely, Lucifer began to fall. And he is terrified of it. He's starting to yearn for your company, visit the hotel simply to seek you out, and this familiar thudding feeling is giving him a headache that can't be soothed by the fizzling warmth of alcohol.

🎪 Charlie begins to notice her father's strange behavior, and how it happens particularly around you...

🎪 Of course, the eccentric princess puts it all together, and she tries to keep it a secret, she really does, but the fact that her dad could actually be falling in love with one of her closest friends, and that he might finally be able to move on from her mother makes her heart overflow with a plethora of emotions.

🎪 The poor girl ends up spilling the details of your rom-com of a love life to Vaggie while hugging a pillow, crying joyful tears as her girlfriend chuckles and simply kisses her forehead with a small smile.

🎪 "Don't worry, hon. I'm sure it'll all be fine in the end. Just sleep it off, okay? And don't, I mean DON'T get involved in their love life, alright? Your dad needs some time to figure this out on his own."

🎪 "But I really want to help them! I know she likes him back; I just know it! And besides, he'll never confess on his own-!"

🎪 "It'll all be solved later, don't worry, Charlie. Besides, we can't just drop everything for this, can we? The hotel still needs our help,"

🎪 "Their love needs our help," Vaggie raised an expectant eyebrow, and Charlie receded with a pout. "But I guess it could wait..."

🎪 "Attagirl."

🎪 Meanwhile, as you toss and turn in your own bed, a deep fondness for the king that ran deeper than you would like to admit blossomed in your heart and was beginning to see the first rays of radiant sunlight that just so happened to be your unconditional adoration for the king of Hell.

🎪 Lucifer could make you laugh, smile, and gasp with a wonderment that you hadn't ever felt before, and your heart began to ache for more. More of his presence, and his whimsical, goofy nature that time had taught you to relish and look forward to.

🎪 All you could do was sleep, close your eyes and hope that these feelings would stamp themselves out soon.

🎪 But all of that proved to be futile as you woke with a start in the middle of the night, the hazy visions of clipped wings, magnificent and radiant in all their seldom glory, remained fresh in your mind.

🎪 The glow of a shiny red apple faded from your vision, as you clenched your arms and buried your face into your pillow.

🎪 You were in for a long night...

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This was... surprisingly really fun and cute to write! I'll definitely be continuing this, since I really want to flesh it out more

Once again, please, PLEASE use the taglist for my sake 😭🙏 it can get sort of overwhelming when I can't remember certain usernames and tag them, and it's just to make things easier for me.

Oh and Lucifer's aesthetic is circuscore, of course. Underrated aesthetic frfr 🎪💫🍎

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie

[ryker-writes]

hello~

Can i actually request about being Azul’s siblings but angst that he started being slowly distant when he got friended with the twins until reaching to NRC especially one dorm with him and he doesn’t like to be addressed as ‘brother’ and treated you as inferior before he overblot? and perhaps if you don’t mind tho what happened after his overblot?

ooooo yes! I love the sibling relationships with the TWST characters both wholesome and angsty. Of course I don't mind writing as much as you want! This even ended up longer than I expected it too! Thank you so much for the request!

Azul as a sibling (Broken relationship edition)

you and Azul used to be close

growing up with him, you saw the other kids pick on him and you knew about his insecurities

you were always there to defend him whenever you saw it

and you reassured him that what they said wasn't true

you would always be standing outside his octopot and keeping away other students so he wouldn't be teased

and so you two were close

but then one day in elementary school, there were a couple of eel twins

Azul was being picked on and curled up in his octopot when the twins approached

they actually talked to him and weren't really mean so you didn't stop them

and Azul actually became friends with them after a bit

but once they became friends, he started spending less time with you

while you could still hang out from time to time, he spent most of his time with them

you'd often see him planning and burying himself in spell books too

and the twins even helped keep bullies away from him

of course you're happy he has friends

and it's great that they help him out

but it really hurts when you want to spend time with him and he tells you he's too busy

especially because when he's "busy" the twins still hover around him

still, you tried to spend time with him a little bit while at home

and he couldn't always push you away

but every day he started to spend less and less time with you and more time studying magic

by the time the two of you were enrolled at Night Raven College, you barely see him anymore

you were a little hopeful when you two ended up in the same dorm

and the twins also got into Octavinelle

for a second you thought that you could try to spend a little time with him

but those hopes were destroyed very quickly

you wanted to try talking to him so you called out to him

all you said was "Brother!" and he immediately turned around with a scowl

all he said was to not call him that before walking away

so maybe he doesn't want to talk to you

you carried on with your school activities and watched Azul from afar

you're not exactly sure what he's been doing, but he seemed to socialize with students a lot more than he did before

and he also seems more confident in himself

eventually he even talked with the headmage and opened a lounge

it was very surprising actually

your brother who used to be very shy and meek is now running a lounge

it was even more surprising when Jade came up to you saying that Azul wanted most Octavinelle students working there, including you

you accepted (the eel didn't give you much of a choice) and started working immediately

unfortunately, you got stuck with some of the worse jobs that no one wanted to do

this included dishes, taking care of trash, cleaning the bathrooms, and generally cleaning any spills

even while working there, you didn't see much of Azul

he spent most of his time in the VIP room

not many people were allowed in there

it was only Azul, the twins, and anyone he wanted to speak with

while working, there would sometimes be students that point out that the two of you were siblings

those students were often dragged to the VIP room and looked very scared when coming out

and they never mentioned it again

it's like hardly anyone knew you were siblings

it's like he didn't want anyone to know

as if he didn't want to be associated with you

and then one day Jade told you that Azul wanted you in the the VIP room

you went in the room and Azul didn't even look up at you

he was to busy writing something

you sat down on one of the couches and awkwardly waited for something to happen

still not looking up at you, he just told you to sign and slid a piece of paper in your direction

looking at it, it was a contract

it said that you would work and do anything he wanted you too, and you could never tell anyone that you were related, you used to be close, or even give details of his childhood

in return you get some of the better jobs like actually dealing with customers and more discounts

you knew of his unique magic

if you signed this contract you would be forced to follow it

of course you didn't want to sign it

and you told him that

this time he actually looked at you

"Is your head so thick that you can't see how I'm trying to help you? You'll get a better position and discounted items. You should consider yourself lucky that I'm kind enough to offer your poor soul something better. Normally I wouldn't even waste my time with someone like you, but my benevolent nature is simply too strong. Besides, this is beneficial for both sides and you'll kindly be helping me as well."

if there was any hope for you and Azul to get along someday, it's certainly dead now

did he really see you so far beneath him?

he really thought that low of you...

but he phrased it in such a way that made it sound like you would be helping him by signing

and he is your brother after all, even if he doesn't want to admit it

so reluctantly, you signed

and he promptly asked you to leave afterwards

things weren't so great after that

while you did get some of the better jobs, you still had to do some of the worse ones

and this also means you had to work more

on top of that you couldn't refuse anything he said

not that he acknowleged you too much after that

he mostly asked Jade or Floyd to tell you what he wanted

because you weren't worth his time

then he started making contracts with more people

and the Mostro Lounge had...too many workers to keep up with

they all signed a contract with Azul, and now they payed the price

but then a bunch of Savanaclaw student showed up one day and caused so much trouble in the lounge

they caused such a mess and spilled everything and you were already dreading the cleanup later

but then you saw Azul

he was clearly upset and frustrated at everyone around him

for a second, he almost looked like the same Azul that used to get picked on

but then the dark ink seemed to consume him

as much as you wanted to help, you were too far away, everyone around you was scrambling, and the students involved seemed like they were trying to keep others away

Azul wouldn't want your help anyway

he'd hate to know that you helped save him

but he was your brother you couldn't just stand by and let it happen

the other students were able to save him before you could even get there

and you kept your distance

Azul was a bit of a wreck after that

you found out that all of his contracts got destroyed so you weren't bound to yours anymore

but you still didn't call him brother

he didn't want that anyway so it just sort of stayed

after his overblot he started acting different

while he still didn't talk to you much at first, he was around you more often

he didn't spend as much time in the VIP room and actually came out to work with everyone else

sometimes he did sort of...hover near you

it was like he wanted to say something, but instead he'd just fidget and look frustrated

the twins seemed entertained by it at least

and then he invites you to the VIP room again

when you enter he's a bit fidgety and won't look at you

you ask if he wants another contract and he's surprised

no one has even mentioned contracts to him since he overblotted

but he says no and that he actually has a new work schedule for you

when you take a look you're amazed

less hours and you don't have to do those horrible jobs anymore???

it was really amazing

since then he even has been trying to make conversation with you

he's incredibly awkward about it tho

he doesn't know what to say so he's searching for something you may be interested in

he wishes he did more research on you in the past to know what you like now

still, he's trying

but what really changed was his attitude towards you

so when some customers were being annoying and complaining about you one day, he actually came to your defense

"Excuse me? It would be wise to watch what you say. After all, that's my sibling you're talking about."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yo! Good morning/evening, hope you are fine^^💝. I wanted to ask you a question but I was afraid that it may bother you or something (you know..that feeling when you are scared that you might disturb someone or being an unwelcome person) but yeah I will ask you since i was serious about your answer for some time now so I hope I'm not annoying you or something *feel free to answer only if you wish^^. You seem to know the characters pretty well, you are quite capable and great at reading and understanding them, one of the things I'm serious about is what do you think would make someone qualified enough to be with malleus? Do they have to be of the same species?certain Reputation, stature or traits?(sorry can't help it since I can't rest until I know everything about what interests me and figure it all out😅). Thanks for giving me some of your precious time I really like your blog, you're amazing💜

No worries, you’re not bothering me at all ^^ I love to talk about my hyperfixations www

Now, I know a lot of fans (particularly on the EN side) like to ship Malleus with their OC and especially with Yuu so I want to first make it clear that my response is NOT meant to invalidate those Malleus shippers. Whatever I say here is based on my own interpretation of canon lore (and let’s be real here, TWST won’t ever confirm if anyone is romantically interested in Yuu because it might not work with how some players view their own relationship with that character). In fanon, anyone can be with anyone, but in canon there are very specific in-universe rules and expectations laid out for Malleus so these are what I will be referring to.

I also want to emphasize that the final traits I discuss in this post do NOT reflect Malleus’s personal tastes or views. He has little say in what kind of an individual his spouse would be, so his own preferences are not speculated about or taken into account here. The traits I will be bringing up are based on what I believe the lore implies are the desirable traits for those marrying into the Draconia royal family.

We got it? Good 👍 Read more below the cut!!

Firstly, I’m completely disregarding the ideas of “Malleus can love whoever he wants to love”, “Malleus can scare people into accepting who he loves”, and/or “Malleus can change the law so he can marry who he loves” (a la Sultan from Aladdin or through some other Disney magic or logic). Here’s why:

In general, those solutions for “high stakes issues” are too simple, and that has never been how Twisted Wonderland tackles complicated problems. Just look at every single OB boy’s backstory. They’re so complex that they aren’t totally resolved by the end of their books; these problems persist and are long term things each of them are working on addressing. This is also true of the politics TWST introduces to us; Leona for example explains how there is social pushback and resistance to the idea of infrastructure reform because the culture of the Sunset Savanna stresses harmony with nature. This has made it difficult for them to adopt new technologies because real politicians in their world have to seriously weigh their cultural values with their health and societal progress. The only time there are really easy solutions are in events or vignettes where the emotional stakes are not super high, but who Malleus marries is, in fact, super important since this will entirely change the life of a main character and his country.

With that first bullet point in mind… No, Malleus cannot love whoever he wants to love. Certainly, he may feel affection for another but he can never truly be with them. He is royalty and the only heir to the throne of Briar Valley. It follows that he is expected to marry for political reasons/to better his nation. This is a non-negotiable obligation for him.

Rather than saying, “Malleus cannot scare people into accepting who he loves”, I think it’s more accurate to say Malleus knows he probably shouldn’t. I mean, yes, he may be upset about his S/O not being accepted by his people but I feel that is discrediting a lot of the loyalty he has for his own country. As a kid he may have thrown tantrums when he was upset and potentially harmed staff, but as a 178 year old he has a much better understanding of decorum and maintaining it in spite of his own grudges. For example, even though he personally dislikes Leona he still commands Sebek to apologize to him because, at the end of the day, this could harm Briar Valley’s relationship with the Sunset Savanna. That’s not to say that Malleus can’t be petty (he definitely is)—but implying he would be petty toward basically his entire country just because they would disapprove of the one he loves?? (We know this would likely be true because Sebek’s parents faced similar backlash when they got together.) I feel like his own sense of awareness and responsibility for his country, crown, and people would override that. As an example, Malleus states that he has never been in a car before because the senate would be against it and often kept Malleus in the castle. Someone of his power could easily ignore them and sneak out and do whatever he wanted, yet the dialogue implies Malleus didn’t. He obeyed his political advisors even when he was younger and arguably much more immature. Malleus might not like certain decisions made about his life but it sounds like he ultimately complies with them.

Continuing from the previous point, let’s say for the sake of argument that Malleus does scare everyone into line. What about his public image and the mental health of his S/O? Maybe Malleus can frighten people to not talk out of turn to his face, but he cannot control what people whisper about him behind closed doors or to treat his S/O well or like they actually like them. Not only would they be alienated (away from their own home and forced to adapt to a new one) but they’d be treated oddly by others too. What kind of reputation is that for Malleus? To be a tyrant king who throws a hissy fit anytime someone talks about his partner in a way he doesn’t approve of? With a spouse who is not at their best mentally because of the constant ostracization? (This is similar to what Leona experienced in his childhood.) I don’t think Malleus would want to subject anyone to that kind of life, especially not one he loves. And again, this attitude would be the vast majority of his people. It’s not like it can be avoided or resolved in an easy manner, especially when the people of Briar Valley have proven to be against change.

Lastly, Malleus would not change the law so he can be with whoever he wants to. To begin with, I doubt this is a unilateral position the senate would approve of. But okay, let’s accept that Malleus is royalty so his power overrides the advisors’ power. So he effectively just changed a law for a very selfish and personal reason rather than changing something to actually benefit his people. That doesn’t feel in-character for him, not when Malleus seems to understand that it is the duty of those in higher status to help those below them rather than themselves (see: Riddle’s Suitor Suit vignettes. Malleus has acted selfish before, yes (who remembers Endless Halloween Night? His Dorm Uniform vignettes? I do.)—but never at the cost of changing the status quo of his country. (Book 7 is not included here because he’s in a very distressed emotional state then; this “new law” scenario posits that Malleus is in a normal state of mind.) This is a major change—change which Briar Valley, its people, and most importantly, Malleus, are not ready for. You think there wouldn’t be social pushback against this? From a society that has become complacent with its own way of life and is still isolated from the rest of the world? That Malleus, someone who struggles greatly with accepting life changes himself, could enact such a big change so easily? (On a more technical level, you don’t just pass a law and it instantly becomes tangible or real, there is a process of approval and then implementation.)

Additionally, it’s made clear in Ghost Marriage that “[Malleus] cannot enter into an engagement lightly”, which is why Sebek goes in his place. Eliza, the Ghost Bride, is royalty (er, albeit dead) but it seems that royal status is not enough to qualify as his partner. Maybe this is because she’s dead and doesn’t have anything of value for Briar Valley (no land, no people, no political power), but it could also mean that the partner has to be given the thumbs up by other parties.

All that being said, here are some of the conditions I think would have to be met for Malleus’s future spouse:

Has to be someone of equal or at least high status. This means they also have to be a royal or at least of nobility. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who is referred to as a duke.

Because of how self-contained Briar Valley is + nocturnal fae having beef with diurnal fae, I imagine his partner would have to also be a nocturnal fae. This would also solve the MASSIVE lifespan difference between fae and non-fae because at least fae would be far closer to each other even if their lifespans fluctuate but subspecies.

Someone suited to rule by his side. Being married into any royal family is no joke—it comes with the expectation that you will contribute somehow, and the partner should be fully equipped to enter the world of politics with him.

Piggybacking off the last point, I think mental fortitude is also a prerequisite. This is because being a politician (navigating the social climate both within your country and outside of it, keeping your people and colleagues happy, maintaining public approval, managing laws, dealing with potential attempts on your life, etc.) can be very stressful and can hurt those who are faint of heart or not prepared for the responsibility. Leaders have to make tough calls at the drop of a hat, and they have to be ready for it.

Has a lot to offer in terms of benefits to Briar Valley as a country. This could be in terms of resources, connections, and/or political savvy. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who acted as a diplomat for Briar Valley.

Vetting and formal approval from the senate. lmao good luck with that

Has to be able and willing to have a child. They at least need an heir to the throne to succeed Malleus. (However, knowing how exclusionary and conservative as heck the senators are, I doubt they would accept anything but a biological child 💀)

Preferably someone with powerful magic or is skilled at magic already so as to lessen the chance of “tainting” the bloodline with a weak mage or a non-mage.

I believe that Briar Valley would prefer someone with old fashioned values like them, not someone pushing for massive reform. They have a culture that is resistant to change and a history of fighting for resources with outsiders, so if Malleus’s new spouse tries to introduce a bunch of technology or open its borders to other countries (even if they have good intentions), the people + the senate may oppose them. His father is implied to be open-minded, but he at least understood that such change isn’t reasonable without time and effort dedicated to the endeavor.

All that being said 💦 I think that this topic is actually less about what Malleus as an individual wants and what his country, his people, and, yes, even his asshole senators, want. This is basically an arranged marriage situation so that their country can maintain power and relevance. It’s about the collective and what Malleus must do for their perceived security and prosperity.

[brianwashere]

hello!! saw your writing today in my tags and got interested, read some more and you seem really cool :D i got one fic stuck in my head though, the one you posted earlier today with the 7 foot spider reader! it was really cool but i kind of thought about a follow up (and I made sure to check your rules before this)

i was thinking, m/n is really big, intimidating and generally a badass- however. in bed (nsfw) he’s inexperienced, shy af, and ends up just being really submissive (you actually didn’t specify if you prefer dom or sub reader, i assumed you mind neither, but if u don’t feel comfortable with this then just ignore)

thank you, and keep up your great works so far :D

Anon, you’re officially my favorite fucking person ever. Oh my god. This req. warmed my heart. Idek what. It just did. Thank you for reading my other fics too. Wow. I’m reeling rn.

Also you didn’t specify who with so I just did HCs for Noir and Miguel

Pls req again soon! You’re so sweet

**I do not own any characters or part of the franchise from marvel or sony **

Summary: look at req

Tw: explicit activities ehehehehe, language

-Miguel-

The first time you two try anything he’s expecting you to be all dominant and get his ass blasted

Y’all two are making out and he’s ready to take it to the next level

And you’re nervous cause you know he’s expecting you to be this super experienced “knows how to make you scream immediately” kinda guy

The truth is you haven’t had much experience because while people may be into the whole “huge man” thing they’re too scared to actually come up to you and even have a conversation

And you’re also scared of hurting your partner

Just a mix of things that led you to little experience

It doesn’t take long for Miguel to figure it out

As soon as you glanced at his face nervously he knew something was up

At first Miguel is surprised bcc he would’ve expected men and women to practically be hanging from you

Once he recovers from the initial shock he’s down with topping and showing you the ropes

It’s a bit of a boost to his ego, not to mention a massive turn on for him

He never lets you shy away from him/cover your face. He loves seeing you. He knows he’s not stronger than you but he’ll still pull your hands away/pull you closer

But sometimes he does wanna be on bottom

Queue very erotic teaching sessions

When you do something he likes he’ll definitely over exaggerate so you’ll know

He also loves marking you up in more…intense ways because he knows it won’t really hurt you

Clawing your back. He’ll claw the SHIT out of your back.

Biting you too. Sometimes he just can’t help it

He finds out you have god tier stamina and impecable recovery time and will definitely use that to his advantage

*cough cough* Overstimulation and denial *cough cough*

He’s down to do whatever you’re comfortable with but sometimes he really needs some stress relief i.e. getting a blowjob or just fucking you senseless

He won’t admit it but he likes when he’s the little spoon after you two are done

~Noir~

You got nervous and told him the first make out session that you had practically no experience

He was a little taken aback, again, you’re so big and so hot how could people not be lining up for a piece of you

It makes him feel even more lucky to be with you though

“Oh…that’s ok, dear. We’ll take it slow, then.”

Then he finds out your submissive too and he’s pretty sure he has a heart attack

Now he was pretty vanilla at first but then he found the internet and stumbled upon some kinks and did some…research

Behind. He loves seeing your back muscles move and twist under him

He likes tying your wrists together with some of his webbing

It’s strong enough that it could actually hold you if you tried resisting, maybe not for very long, but it wouldn’t snap like thread at the slightest pressure

He loves praising you. Praise. All the time. Always praise. You could breathe and he’d be on his knees for you

Every time he does something new he asks if you’re ok with it

He’ll be gentle if that’s what you want but he figures out that’s usually not the case

Usually you want everything he’s got, as much as he’ll provide you

He does love soft romantic nights with you though

Where he gets to enjoy your large beautiful frame and your contrasting shyness

When he gets to slow down and drink in ALL of you

The noises you make, the small movements, your incoherent mumbling

He loves ALL of it

He’s so down bad for you not even a joke

A little guilty pleasure for him is kissing you senseless

He loves being the big spoon for you, even if it just feels like a backpack is attached to you

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm All Over the Place, and so are the shows

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - The Jasmine flirting thing was so darn cute, I can’t. I love these two so much. 

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 2 of 10 - Oh it’s great. Flirting. Fighting. Fate. Murder. Eventually we’ll add fucking. A trifffecta. I could do with a bit less training but whatever. And we have learned our boys are laboring under a geis. NO SINGING. Otherwise this ep was actually pretty flipping great. 

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 6 of 8 - Ooo kidnapping and the sides are suffering betrayal. Also Tew kills again. I like that they don’t shy away from the fact that he’s a killer and Guy was genuinely scared.  And then Tew had to break up with Guy to protect him in Noble Sacrifice (tm). How Cdrama of him. Rough ep all round. 

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 10 - It’s not exactly good, but it’s better than I was expecting, and I tend to cut pulps a lot of slack out the gate. The plot is more interesting, Him is a sweetie (I like that in a seme) and our uke has both game and pluck. He’s a femme bitch, I LOVE that in a boy + we never get it femme in the lead. The acting is not great, sound all over the place, but there are no terrible sound effects, the soundtrack is okay, and our high heat came with a side of BJ + condoms, and no one has sung (yet), so I think I like it. It’s giving me Big Dragon vibes.

Linguistic moment: 

Him used Him/ter for pronouns & ha. Very flirty. Nail used rao back a little bit of a challenge. (No pom and didn’t use his own name either.) Gauntlet thrown. Our baby ends up with rao/kao but I don’t think that’ll stick. Him is getting Phi out of him if it's the last thing he does.

Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 2 of 6 - The characters’ shared backstory is no surprise but I do like this show. Those little private smiles as they find family. Those lingering gazes as they find romance. Lovely. Also Shin wants to marry into Peach's family so bad, I’m reminded of Laurie in Little Women. All that said, it’s never the top of my list to watch for some reason. 

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - How could I have forgotten how stunning Off is? Meanwhile… I love Gun’s character, he's so cute. But this show is a bit too comedic for me. I wish GMMTV were taking this script seriously. Sorry Neo et al I’m not sold on the sides. In general? I don’t love it. I don’t hate it either. In other news, I think I'll go make toast.

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 14 - I love the sides and unholy amount and in general it was fine this week probably because I decided to do a trash watch.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 5 of 10 - I’m getting fatigued. Also holy random sex Batman. Where did these extra sides come from? I’m confused. Tonal pingpong going on, and not just in the shower.  

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 4 of 8 - Finally a direct confession Jade can’t avoid. Will things get a bit more serious?

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I don’t know why I watch this show, the acting is great, but it just makes me cry.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 3 of 14 eps - What a bonkers thing this is. Very kinky and also just odd. I do keep thinking about the pinks with it. Similarly, there doesn’t seem much glue holding this thing together, dried cum of course but not glue. And despite what some kinksters say, the one cannot replace the other.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Fake Love ep 15 of 24 - This is a weird installment. Too stalker and random blackmail for me. But not as bad as abuse and death, I guess? 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) eps 7-8fin - Not much of a love triangle in the end (you just found out he is actually gay and broken hearted = an opportunity not a tragedy). Meanwhile I like that the high school break up was just mr insomniac's fault. He got jealous and angry and petty. No miscommunication just an asshole kid. I did find this show a little slow, even though it was your standard length KBL. Odd that. They are very cute boyfriends tho. 

All in all:

Tsundere insomniac grump reunited with his sunshine jock ex (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is also involved. While the simplicity of a reunion plot makes this more cohesive than most KBLs, it is a tad stiff and slow, never managing to lift itself out of "pretty and pretty enjoyable" - I liked it but I don’t think I’m going to remember much about it. 8/10

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - It has the feel of a one act, with such a limited cast and location, which reminds me of KBL. Still watching these two quietly fall in love and process affection through their own art forms is sweet. This is a very soft gentle show. 

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) - Toki, a delinquent but pure-hearted kid falls in love with his handsome phys-ed teacher, Sahara. This is very much my trope but very manga campy, which I don’t love. I’m quite torn. Toki is an idiot but a lovable one. But do I like it?

It's Airing But...

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even dimples can motivate me to watch. You can tell me how this goes if you can find it.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all) even one featuring Singto and Fluke. I'm holding off. If told it's good, I'll binge.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes, so I'm waiting to binge if told it's safe.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Waiting to be told if I should bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

In case you missed it

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) finished. Adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like) about a clerk who (nearly) dies and ends up cohabitating with an angel. I was warned that the ending would not work for me so I decided not to bother.

My Biker BL short movie from Wayu supposedly premiered Nov 27 on their YouTube Channel for Members to watch. I couldn't find anything further. The MDL description makes me think it's not for me so I bother.

Next Week Looks Like This

Short list of the December offerings.

12/9 Cherry Magic (Thai remake) YouTube 10 eps

12/9 Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) ??

12/14 Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) ??

12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love these dudes so much, and make no mistake they def dudes. On point banter, my dudes. (Sign)

Yes they are cute but so far that's all this show has going for it. (Middleman's Love)

I'm a simple human, I just like seeing Off kneeing. (Cooking Crush)

(Last week)

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Maths genius (Michael Gavey x Reader)

synopsis: You ask your class mate for a tutor session under the guise of desperately needing it. To his surprise he gets something much better than having to try to teach a girl maths.

warnings: flirting, smut, a bit of dry humping, p in v sex, afab reader

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Writers block still has me tight in it´s clutches, but I´ve watched Saltburn for the first time today and I didn´t want to write on this for another week so here you have my first Michael Gavey fic.

As you walk into the otherwise quiet library the clicking of your heels fills the room. Prompting a few students to turn their heads and look. You don't think much about them as you take a book from the large shelves and spot a person from your lectures. Michael Gavey. So you decide to sit down close to him. You had always thought him to be rather cute. Even if nerdy and slightly off putting, still.

You focus back on the book in front of you. However, in a matter of minutes however your confident posture crumbles to a confused expression.

It takes another while for you to look up from the book in frustration. So you miss the way he avoids eye contact at all costs. Yet you search it out nevertheless.

"Hey, you are Michael Gavey, right?" You speak quietly as to not disturb the other students.

“Uh yeah” His tone is nothing short of standoff-ish and at the same time surprised. It is clear that he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to.

It takes you back slightly, but you continue nonetheless. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you, but we are in the same class."

“Oh, we are. I don’t remember your name though.”

You offer him your name with a small smile. You understand that he hadn't had the easiest time connecting with your classmates, so you made a point to be different from them.

"Say, you are like a certified maths genius. Do you do tutoring?" You switch seats to sit right across the table from him.

A not entirely recognizable spark lights up behind the glasses as you do so.

“Uh… I don’t tutor or anything. Are you having trouble?” His tone softens ever so slightly.

"Yes. I have been falling behind ever since we started the new topic. I just don't get it. At all." You play with a strand of your hair and lean forward a bit in the hopes to make him say yes.

As soon as he identifies your flirting you can see he draws a blank. It's honestly kinda cute.

“Well, m-maybe you want to come over to my place later..." When he realizes that that could sound weird taken out of context, he quickly adds "So I can teach you.”

"That would be just great, but I thought maybe we could meet up at my dorm?”

You take one of your fingers to trace small patterns into the back of his hand. You know you are laying it on thick, it´s visible in the uncertain spark behind the nerdy glasses, lighting up his piercing blue eyes.

“Yeah, of course! Let’s do your room. What building are you in?” The way Michael nods so fast you are scared that his glasses fall off, makes you hide a giggle behind your hand.

"Gimme your hand." You grab a pen and pull his hand towards you.

When you write your room number onto the inside of his wrist, Michael´s eyes lock with yours like a deer in headlights.

“Got it. I’ll be over at 7:00. Will that work?”

"That works perfectly actually. I'll see you then." You give him a wink and strut away with what Michael believes to be a bit of a spring in your step.

“Um... yeah... see you then.”

His eyes follow your retreating form until you are out of sight, before he looks down at your note again, while you smile to yourself. There is only one more lecture separating you from your little `date´.

One lecture and one clothing change later, you are just about to freshen up your lipgloss when a faint knock can be heard from the door. Right on the time that you agreed upon. Michael looks down to his shuffling feet on the ground when you open the door to him, which gives you the advantage of seeing his full reaction to seeing your clothes. Bit by bit his blue eyes wander up over the thigh high stockings, pausing at the pleated skirt and over the oversized sweater until they come to a halt on your face. Instantly any sound of your name dies on his tongue.

“I um… I’m here for the… the math lesson.” He mumbles. It's almost comical how his face reddens as he pushes the glasses up his nose.

The reaction elicits a giggle from you. It is obvious that there will be a lot done tonight, but studying wouldn't take up the biggest part of it.

"Come on in." You take a step back to make way for his tall figure to enter your room.

He nods once as he does so. His gaze getting drawn back to you as he tries to maintain eye contact.

“You look… uh…”

"I look...?" It's kind of fun to see him struggle like this.

“H-hot. You look really hot and it’s distracting.” He quickly looks down so as to avoid your gaze again to hide the worsening of the blush. "So, where do we start?”

"At the beginning, maybe?" You smirk.

“Yeah… good point.” He sits down at the desk while you lean over him.

As he opens your book and begins to explain to you the foundations of the topic you let your breasts graze Michael's back and arm deliberately every now and again to put him off. It's not a hard task, with every brush of your sweater against his shirt, he stumbles over his words. It is palpable that no matter how hard he is trying to concentrate on the work in front of him, your body pulls his eyes away from the book again and again. At one point you even think you can see his length twitch underneath the cargo shorts. Letting this go on for as long as you can, you eventually put on a seemingly concerned and innocent face and lay a hand on his forehead as if to feel his temperature.

"My... You are so warm. Are you feeling well?"

Behind his eyes the wheels are turning in a desperate attempt to think of a clever response, but at this point it is just impossible. As soon as you placed your hand on Michael's forehead, all that comes out is “I-I… uh… I… “

"Come, sit on the bed. I think we should take a break from studying." You gently take his hands in yours to lead him over to the edge of your bed.

A lead without even thinking about it. The urge to just give himself up to you is building rapidly by the second.

“S-sorry. Uh… I mean I… “

"Shhh." You lay your finger under his chin to keep his gaze locked with yours. "Is this your first time?"

"Yes." Michael breathes out.

"Stop me if I go too far..." You murmur against his lips, closing your eyes just before you lean down more for your lips to meet in a feather light brush.

A shiver went through his previously relaxed body and his hot breath hit your lips harder as he kissed back. Your hand that currently holds him by the chin wanders upwards to cup one of Michael's cheeks. His hands begin to slide down the outside of your thigh, suddenly pulling you onto his lap. As he does so, the fabric of the skirt bunches at your waist. The action provokes your breath to falter and to press your body as close to his as possible. Instinctively your lips open further, to allow for a more intense kiss. One of Michael´s hands wanders behind your back to support you on his lap and then, finally, he moves his lips to your neck, giving it a soft bite.

"Oh, Michael." You whimper as his teeth graze your skin. Grinding your core against his lap as a reaction.

His hands wander further up under the fabric of your sweater, cold skin caressing warm skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Don't stop kissing me, please." Your words are barely a shuddering whisper.

His mouth leaves your neck and moves down your body to kiss your chest through the thick sweater. Sucking on your nipples until there are two wet spots staining it. The bundled nerves standing hard at attention, but your sweater is in the way of what you are doing, so his hands wander from just under your ribs further up. With a tingle running down your spine you lift your arms up in aiding him to throw the piece of fabric to the side. Not caring where it lands. You are all too glad to lose it. He too doesn't waste a single second and litters your breasts with kisses and nibbles. This time though, you feel a tug at the hem of your skirt.

The sensation makes your desire for him grow incredibly high. The zipper on the side  gets opened fast and in a swift motion you lift your body off his lap just long enough to kick it aside. There is no time or need for words.

"Your body is incredible." The words hit your skin between heavy breaths as his hands run over your stomach, rubbing tight circles into the soft skin before continuing to wander down to massage your thighs. Michael's lips wander further down your body as well to follow suit. His warm tongue traces down your middle from the valley between your breasts down to just about your belly button. Your reaction to his teasing came instantly in the form of a quiet moan. Which got followed by a knock at your door. Assuming it was just your friend that forgot something the other day, you don't make an effort to stop what you are currently doing. She needed to learn eventually after all, a notion which gets you an uncertain look from Michael beneath you.

But you only place a finger on your lips in a sign to be quiet.

"Shhh" You whisper to him and then thread your hands into his short hair to guide his face right in front of your exposed chest. Something he willingly allows, attaching his lips to nibble at your bosom. Littering it with bite marks and hickeys, tracing every little curve of it. The ministrations get you to completely forget about the knock on the door just a second ago and also the one rule you set after it. Yet at his needy nibbles and licks you can't help being unable to hold back the squeal of enjoyment that sounds through the room.

In a hurry Michael moves his mouth away from your chest and covers your mouth with one of his hands.

“Shhhhh... Your friend will hear us.” His palm lays snug against your face, so as not to let any sounds through. Something that you allow until you get a better idea. Unbothered if the two of you can be heard any longer, you warp your lips around Michael´s long, slender fingers to swirl your tongue around them teasingly.

A shock of warmth goes through his body, making itself noticeable by the way his face burned. When you feel like he had been teased enough, you let his hand free with a wet `pop´

Immediately they get replaced by his lips once more as they catch yours in a searing kiss, at which you let out a most sinful sounding moan.

“Fuck…” Both of you curse under your breaths simultaneously.

By now he has done a great job at making you desperate for more and so your trembling fingers move down to work at the buttons of his shirt. It takes a while, but eventually and with a bit of teamwork, you are able to throw it to the ground as well. Just then Michael leans all the way back until his back lays flat against the mattress. The new position makes it easier for you to grind against him, a chance you use immediately by running your barely covered cunt over the tent in the blond's pants.

"I need more..." A tiny whimper passes Michael's lips. "Need to be inside of you."

At his words your hands stop caressing his body and come down to fumble open the button of his pants. Though you don't entirely grant him his wish yet. The moment is too good to not stretch out. His pants and underwear get pulled down barely as far as they need to, before you grind on his dick again. As you do so, his member twitches up to tease your covered clit, which makes your head fall back and mouth open to make way for steadily heavier growing breaths.

When you lean forward to lock your swollen lips with his again however you move your hips a bit too far. So as you move them backwards again you only have a short moment to process the fact that his cock had slipped past the lace panties and entered your fluttering, wet heat.

“You´re so tight.” Michael can´t fight off or quieten the loud moan any longer, but the complete lack of stimulation after what you had done previously began to get to you.

“Shit. Michael I really need you to move or else I´m going crazy.” Though it wasn´t an ask from your side it also wasn´t a command, yet the blond followed it instantly. His hands gripped your hips tightly and set a slow rhythm by guiding your movements to meet his thrusts.

Both of your moans, groans, whines and whimpers fill the room along with the wet slapping of skin against skin.

”Feels so good, Michael. Feel so good inside of me.” You lean back and prop yourself up on his thighs, allowing you to fasten the movements of your hips.

“I´m not going to last much longer. You´re so wet and perfect.” He mumbles as the flush on his cheeks darkened and spreading over his face until it reached the tips of his ears.

His cock twitches inside of you as if to underline that statement. So you lead one of his hands away from your hips to your throbbing clit. Picking up on your actions Michael's thumb rubs small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Reveling in the way your walls flutter even further around his length, bringing him closer to the edge as your noises become even more urgent and high pitched.

“Come for me.” You say when you feel yourself get close as well. It is a whisper at first, but with a little concentration from that hazy brain of yours, you are able to repeat it a little louder. “Come for me, now.”

The blond´s eyes roll back into his head, one last whimper leaves his lips and then the feeling of warm ropes of cum filling your core floods your body. His hips stutter in their movements, but yours are from done. Continuously and relentlessly they drive you up and down on his cock. Soon after Michael you get overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure, forcing you to sit back in his lap as your legs and hips shake from the climax. Swaying back and forth on top of him for a while, before you are able to catch your breath and think straight again.

“Shit…” You hear Michael whisper beneath you.

Looking down at him, you can´t conceal a giggle at how entirely fucked out he looks. His hair is mussed and his glasses sit slightly crooked on that sharp nose. It´s almost comical.

The two of you take some more time to come back to reality and get dressed again.

“I better be going now.” Michael croaks, lingering close to you for a second. Uncertain if he should say what he was thinking. “But um… If you would like to have another study session some time… I wouldn´t be opposed to that.”

“I wouldn´t be opposed to it at all either.” Followed your flirty response.

It surprises him visibly, though he manages to sort himself out rather quickly.

“Do you mean that?” He inquires.

“I surely do. Give me your number and I´ll call you.” It is more of a suggestion, but he gives you his number so fast you almost have trouble catching it the first time. Snapping your phone shut after saving it, you turn to look back at Michael.

“I can´t wait to see you again.” You wink and give a small, alluring wave.

[loupy-mongoose]

*Ahem*

Happy Halloween!! ^w^

Bug Fables.

It's my current favorite video game, and actually, you can thank it for Linden Roots existing~

I'll explain, but in order to do so I have to dive into spoilers for one of my absolute favorite plots for one of my absolute favorite characters, so I need to slap on a;

MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING!

In my opinion, this game is best experienced SPOILER FREE, so if you haven't played it and want to some day, I recommend skipping my info dump below. (This info can be acquired before beating the main game though. :>)

You're okay with spoilers? Yes? Okay, carry on.

So.

Those who are familiar with Leif's story will probably see how Bug Fables influenced the creation of Linden Roots.

A long while ago, I mentioned Randy being inspired by my favorite fictional character.

That's Leif.

Leif is a moth who is ancient.

And dead.

Loooooong before the game takes place (I can't find an exact timeframe; it's like a generation or two), Leif went with a team of bugs to explore a cave, but ended up dying in there. In that same cave, a group of scientists later experimented on cordyceps. Now, as soon as they became relevant to the story I was HOOKED.

I learned about cordyceps as a kid, and they scared the crap out of me. But it also was one of those morbidly fascinating things I'd look into once in a while. (Before anyone tells me, yes, I know that's what's in The Last of Us.)

If you don't know, IRL cordyceps basically turn bugs into zombies.

Anyway, the scientists were trying to find a way to create eternal life (what else is new lol), and did this through cordyceps. Which, as one could guess when dealing with zombie fungus, ended up going badly for the scientists.

One of the "failed" experimental fungi was thrown out, and found its way to the deceased Leif, and brought him back to life. It took on his memories, and Leif woke up without knowing what happened, until you dig into his story during the game. So the "Leif" we know in the game isn't truly Leif, but is the fungus living as him.

Now... I'm sure that sounds a bit familiar...

This idea of a character being dead-but-not struck a chord with me. It fascinated me to no end.

But there's more to it.

As one might expect, Leif has some tragedy surrounding him.

While playing the game, you can stumble upon his decedents.

This here is Muze. With a 'z'

This is Leif's great great however-many-greats grand-daughter, who you meet in the game's present day.

When he was alive, he had a wife.

His wife was Muse. With an 's'.

We never get to see what Muse looked like, but he says in-game that Muze is a spitting image of her. Hence why Akoya is dressed as she is in my pic. She's dressed as Muse.

Now, according to the developers, Muse was pregnant when Leif went into the cave where he died.

And he didn't know.

There are several moments in the game that show Leif's potential as a father, but one in particular stood out to me.

(Note for the images; Leif refers to himself as "We/Us".)

Oops, I forgot one. Vi finishes by shouting "I said it's not happening!"

The text in the last shot bounces/wiggles in-game, indicating playfulness or joking.

If you're familiar with Goombario and Goombella in the Paper Mario games, this dialogue is this game's version of that. You can have the main characters give flavor text on any area and most characters in the game. (And I recommend doing it often, as it adds SOOO much to the game! ^v^)

This bit takes place in the first room after Kabbu and Vi meet Leif. And at the end of the room, an event happens to change what's said for the rest of the game. Meaning, the only time you see it is RIGHT after they meet; He was getting playful with these two bugs he'd met only moments ago.

I'm sure it can just be seen as sarcasm, but having found this dialogue after learning about Leif missing out on raising a child, I saw it as a clue that he would've been a great dad. And it shattered me. ;w;

Randy and Akoya are wish-fulfillment. They're my version of Leif and Muse. They're my way of giving Leif and Muse what I'm sad they missed out on, while also keeping some of the angst, lol. Thankfully, they've evolved into their own separate characters that I feel I can be proud of, but Leif's story and tragedy still has a deep, well-protected place in my heart.

Anyway, thanks for checking out my ramble. I accept no blame for any potential spoiler you might've seen against your will. XD

[charlewiss-writes]

(bad at) keeping secrets / charles leclerc

masterlist

day 8: hide (part of one-word november prompts!)

summary: charles and you were seeing eachother for quite some time, but still couldn't quite figure out how to tell your brother, pierre. (and maybe you don't need to)

word count: 0.6k

pairing: charles leclerc x gasly!reader

warnings: not proofread! also, badly translated french lmao

charles and you had met in the early days of his career, back when he was still racing in karts just like your brother, pierre. you and your family spent your whole days accompanying your older brother who, just as charles', couldn't see himself doing any other thing that wish to be part of the formula 1 world one day.

eventually, all three of you grew up, still together. even though you spend less time with them due to their tight schedules, you hangout just enough to catch feelings for the monegasque. still, you were always too scared to do anything with charles, not wanting to disrupt the friendship the two boys had since they were kids.

but the more you tried to stay away from him, the closest you became. it's like you two were attracted like magnets. so now, three months after starting to see eachother, he was in your apartment in only his sweatpants after a night together. it was a sunday, and due to it being an off-week for him, you two were taking advantage of the little time you had together watching a movie on the tv while laying on your bed.

until your heard the sound of keys on your door lock. you got up and looked at charles, confused because you weren't expecting anyone, and found it strange that the person who was trying to get in had the keys in the first place. you thought that maybe a neighbor had got the apartment doors messed up since they looked all the same, but you quickly recognised the voice that reached your ears.

"ma colombe (my dove), you home?"

charles, who was close to falling asleep a second ago, had almost fallen to the floor, caught off guard by his best friend's presence. you had been keeping your relationship a secret until now, not knowing how or when was the right time to tell pierre that you had been seeing his best friend, despite his general warnings to not mess with any drivers -especially the monegasque-.

"please stay here and hide. i'll get him out as soon as i can" you whispered to him, giving the boy a quick peek on the lips before fixing your hoodie. that wasn't even yours in the first place. god, you hoped pierre didn't notice. "yes, i'm home" you said, closing the door as fast as you could, so he wouldn't see who was inside. "what are you doing here?"

"great to see you two" he huffed. you hadn't mean to come off as annoyed to him, knowing that this was off of character for you, who had always had a soft spot for your big brother. he continued "maman said you had forgotten a jacket, and since your house was on the way to mine i decided that I should drop it off" he said calmly, while handling you the piece of clothing. you smiled and nodded thanking him, but didn't say anything else. "what is it, chère (dear), something wrong?" he asked, now worried due to your lack of interaction. in a normal situation, you would have invited him to lunch, maybe talk a bit about how his last race went. but your silence made him suspicious. "sorry, I was quite busy back there, I was just working" you quickly answered. maybe too quickly.

"working in your bedroom?" pierre asked, switching his stare to the door where you had came from. "if you were working, why are you so flustered?"

"i-i'm not" your cheeks immediately flushed pink, and you knew that if he continued to ask questions, you'll be fucked. "okay okay, if you say. see you at maman'š'" you took a long breath, filling your lungs after holding your breath for a bit too long. but just when he was about to disappear through the door, you heard his voice, full of mischief, while screaming out loud "also, tell charles he needs to get a more subtle car if he doesn't want to be seen".

[radiocrypt-id]

Gerrard is painful in a way I didn't really understand at first. He's like, 30. He's grown. A handsome prince, married to a wonderful woman that's trying to do her job and prevent the deaths of her people. But all he thinks about is the ball. he offers to look through a sword form book as a way of "helping", or to appear to be helping anyway. He's a coward. He hides with the children and escapes through a secret tunnel and runs away. He's desperate to convince anyone, including himself, that he's a handsome prince who is in love with his wife and their marriage is going great.

And I didn't get it, at first. I thought he was funny and probably more like the average person in a terrible time, not a hero. He's a grumpy adult that feels like the world he was promised got taken away from him when he did nothing to hold onto that world in the first place.

And then they played through his story. He was 9 when he was turned into a frog. 9. A baby, unable to understand what it was he'd done wrong. He was a spoiled little prince with absent parents that was 9 and didn't want to interact with a random strange old woman at his door asking for stuff. An adult could have been gotten. His parents could have been summoned by a servant and brought to the door or a higher servant could have handled the talk but no, no they let a 9 year old boy open that massive door to a random stranger asking to come inside out of the rain. Any child would have said no. Any child. Because an old woman he'd never met was asking to go inside his home. I would have said no, any of the other characters at the table would have said no. She's a scary old lady on his doorstep! And yeah maybe he said it in a dickish way. Maybe he called her a peasant or said 'how dare you' to her face, but he was 9 years old, what 9 year old isn't a weird little dick? Especially when they don't know what's going on? Stranger danger is literally a thing taught to children as soon as they can walk! Any one would have said no. But Gerrard said no, and was turned into a frog for it.

But you know what's worse then being turned into a frog and dropped in a pond a bit away from your home? Never being looked for. Not once. He was out there, he could see hunters and soldiers. A tiny Gerrard must have waited months, just staring out into the woods, straining his ears, listening for his mother or father calling his name. And then just listening for his name at all. And then just listening for any sign of humans at all. No one was looking for him. For all the servants charged with taking care of a young prince, not one saw what happened to him and not one went looking. It's hard to be small and scared and alone, waiting for someone to come get you but no one ever comes to get you. It's hard to learn that the people that are supposed to love you just... don't.

And later on, after becoming a handsome man and marrying Elody, Gerrard spent more years of his life as a frog in a pond than a prince. Day dreaming about balls and gossip and feasts and all the fun things about being a prince because it's all he can remember about his time as a prince. He didn't have the classes he should have had. He missed out on etiquette, and sword play, and politics, and war. He missed those lessons, because he was just a little frog in a pond during the years he would have learned all that. But he's expected to know. Elody loves him, but she expects him to know how to be a prince. She expects him to understand war and strife and taxes and all those important things and doesn't once stop to ask if he actually knows these things. Of course he didn't want to talk about the war effort. Of course he asked about the ball and offered to read a book about sword play. It's not that he could give more and chose not to, he genuinely didn't know how to do more than that. He was taking what initiative he could. He could teach himself how to fight, sure! but he can't teach himself how to be a general. All he wants is to be safe, and for the person he loves to be safe. And he assumes that anyone would run away from a losing battle because he would. He grew up a frog that had to survive by running away and letting someone else die so he could live. But even once he ran, he went looking for Elody. Because although Elody is falling out of love with Gerrard, he loves her fiercely. And as he goes on his adventure and fights and dies and fights more, he gets it. He gets what Elody wanted from him and what she needed him to be and that he failed to do that.

So he's learning better now. He learning to accept personal sacrifice, like with the glass shard. He's learning to be diplomatic, like with the pig. He's learning to be dangerous and capable, like in the fight against muffet. He's learning what it means to rely on people and be honest with them about his failings so they can cover his ass, like with the party. It's hard to learn these things. It's hard to try and sus out who is helpful and who isn't. It's hard to not hand off his problems again for someone else to fix. Because even though he's 30 now, he spent an unknown number of years as a frog, and he's desperately trying to catch up without letting anyone know he's behind because they might not like him anymore if they know how far behind them he is. He's doing his very best and, terrifyingly, the person that's supposed to love him is loving him less because his best isn't good enough for her. Once again, he's missing and no one is looking for him.

But that's okay, because this time, Gerrard can do the looking.

[ech0schamber]

Hello do you still take requests for Bsd?

If you do would you mind writing one for either Poe, Fyodor, Ang, Kunikida or Akutagawa.

It can be a oneshots or headcannons I don't mind and yandere if you care comfortable with that.

Thanks for your time and no pressure with this!

hi!! sorry, but i don't do yandere content, but i'll gladly do some headcanons! you didn't specify what type of headcanons, so ill just do general relationship headcanons ^.^

☆Poe! he's an absolute sweetheart

☆will definitely buy you anything you want, he just wants his s/o to be happy

☆i can see him not exactly being a fan of pda, like, he wont stop you from holding his hand or giving him a kiss, but he will become incredibly flustered

☆in the beginning of your relationship, you will definitely see Karl dragging Poe towards you since he wouldn't stop mumbling about you and it was annoying Karl

☆you are Karl's parent now, and he claims your lap as a great napping place

☆speaking of naps, please make this man get some sleep, he overworks himself too much

☆doesn't care if he's the big spoon or little spoon, he just enjoys cuddling

☆fyodor. this man is mysterious to everyone, you are no exception

☆dont get me wrong, if you somehow end up in a relationship with him, you will know/understand him more than anyone else, but he still keeps some secrets from you. he is a terrorist after all

☆this seemingly emotionless man does have a soft spot for you tho, but its still probably not best to surprise him with hugs and such

☆its been stated in canon that he will gift a whole nation to the one he loves, so expect him to spoil you.. in his own way

☆doesn't like pda, but he does like when you hold his hand when your scared. its probably his ego tho

☆will let you cling to him in private, if thats the type of person you are. his only rule is that he can still do his work

☆good luck getting this man to be anything but a big spoon

☆another man who has a 'secret' soft spot for you

☆please drag this man away from his work. it may be very important work, but his health is even more important -and your need for affection-

☆another man who doesn't like pda, he wants to be professional in public

☆i can see him being an absolute sucker for kisses tho, you could probably kiss your way into getting him to do anything you want

☆probably won't tell you about his past, but you do eventually notice that he visits a cemetery pretty often. its probably not best to ask him, its still an open wound for him

☆very worried about your safety, could probably get a bit possessive without realizing it, but he just wants his s/o to be safe

☆hmm.. i see him as mostly being a big spoon, with the occasional small spoon when he's really stressed

(im so sorry if this doesnt fit him, his character is hard to read)

☆who doesn't love blondies

☆woo boy, i see him as having mixed feelings about pda. as long as it doesn't mess up his schedule, i cant see him having a problem with it

☆he actually doesn't scold you that often. he knows he can be a bit scary when he scolds certain people *cough cough Dazai cough cough* the only time he really scolds you is if you do something that severally hurts you

☆big cuddlier, but will only be the big spoon, he'll use some excuse like 'i need to protect you in case something happens' but in reality, he doesn't know how he'll react if he's the little spoon, mans not used to being cared for

☆will wake you up at 5am if it means keeping his schedule right. will buy you ice cream (or any treat of your liking) if you bother him enough as an apology tho

☆also, kind of a dumbass when it comes to feelings, you will have to confess to him first. he'll eventually get the hang of it

☆pretty boy

☆you somehow ended up in a relationship with an emo cat??

☆please give this boy time to warm up to this, he doesn't know how to handle it

☆you're one of the first people to find out about his illness (Gin was the first), he doesn't want you to worry about his coughing. it doesn't help, you end up worrying more

☆shy. but not in the 'uwu im so shy' way.. more like 'idfk what to do shy' he probably freezes up a lot

☆you will have to initiate everything. i promise that he does actually try, he's just so nervous that he's going to mess something up and you'll hate him bc of it

☆please reassure this boy, he is full of insecurities.

☆honestly, small spoon. he absolute adores the feeling of being held, its probably one of the only times he fully relaxes.

☆god forbid if someone ever hurts you, he will hunt them down. please scold him (lightly) when he comes home covered in blood, that shit is not easy to get out of clothing

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hope you enjoy this! <3 please feel free to request more

[jq37]

FH Junior Year Post-Season Thoughts

With another season of Fantasy High in the books and my recaps all finished, I wanted to do an overview of my thoughts on the season as a whole. Even though I feel generally positive about my experience with the season, there are a few things I think maybe could have been done differently narratively or mechanically. This isn't to criticize the way the season went down or to backseat DM/Play. More my combined ten years of college for textual analysis and storytelling bleeding through, haha. 

I first want to start with the things I thought worked really well.

Fantasy High has "High" right in its title but, in past seasons (and especially Sophomore Year), not as much time as you'd think was spent actually at school and even if it was spent at school, there wasn't much time spent in class or engaging with the realities of being a student. This season really dug into the academic consequences of skipping your classes all the time and the realities of needing to do a ton of extra stuff to try for a scholarship and I think that was a refreshing thing to highlight for a change. Being more scared at flunking out than the dragon that's trying to eat you feels very emotionally resonant. Real "High School Is Killing Me" vibes for anyone who's a fan of NPMD. 

Even though Fantasy High is a show that has some deep emotional beats and strong character arcs, it's first and foremost a comedy show. From the jump, everyone was generating bit after bit that had me cracking up as usual. "Little girly dog collar" is one of the funniest combinations of words I can think of. I think it was Siobhan who said that this was the goofy season and, having seen it, I'd have to agree with her. It never failed to make me laugh and it was always a highlight of my week.  The cast just has great table chemistry that I love to watch no matter what they're doing. 

Watching some of these high level combat encounters is as close as I'll get to understanding people watching sports. Even though combat is generally my least fave part of D&D, I think the cast really killed it this season with how cleverly they played and Brennan came up with some really great combat encounters. Special shout outs to Baron's Game and The Last Stand for their unique mechanics.  

This is going to be one that's on the other list as well because my feelings are mixed, but I genuinely do like the downtime mechanic and how it forces hard choices. I think it's an interesting way to connect a mechanic to the story and cultivate stressful atmosphere for the season.

I have problems with the execution but I love the Rat Grinders in concept. I think as early as season 1 I was hoping that we'd meet a party that was like the Bizarro Bad Kids and the idea of a party that's farming XP instead of going on crazy adventures is a strong concept. Likewise, I think a character that's jealous because of your "cool" (read: tragic) backstory is also a fun trait for an unhinged antagonist in this kind of setting.

This is me absolutely showing my bias but I adored the Abernant Sisters content this season. I dunno if Siobhan specifically asked Brennan to not put her on a bus with the other beloved NPCs or what but I'm so glad she stuck around and we got the development we did. It was almost entirely ancillary to the plot but there was this clear pattern of Aelwyn getting softer and sweeter towards Adaine over the course of the season, from the guarded, "Enjoy the nemesis ward," to, full I love you's and, "I'd take them to get you." It was way more focus than I expected considering that Aelwyn completed the bulk of her arc last season and a lot of the time, a redemption arc basically ends after the big gesture (in this case, Aelwyn taking a magic blast for Adaine in Sophomore Year). So the fact that we got to see all of these sweet moments of them reestablishing their relationship outside of do or die moments was such a pleasant surprise. Again, I fully admit I am extremely biased, but this was my top wishlist item and the season overdelivered so there's a baseline happy I'm always gonna be with Junior Year. 

OK, so moving on to things I things I think could have been tweaked.

Even though I liked the downtime system and the pressures it created, it also squeezed out the chance for more casual PC to NPC interactions that would usually be more common because they were semi-locked behind the relationship track and there wasn't an obvious benefit to roll for Relationships (as opposed to something like Academics which was crucial for not flunking out). Making the mechanical benefit more clear would have helped that (even if it meant Brennan didn't get his reveal--which he ended up just telling them anyway so might as well do it early). The other thing is that the consequence of a rage token was so bad that of course they spent all season avoiding getting one. Things might have gone differently if the consequences had been a bit more obscured, like in Neverafter. And it could have been a nice parallel to the Rat Grinders to take this unknown resource that makes things easier for you but is also having this negative effect. Then it could be like dang we did the same thing they did unknowingly. 

I mentioned this in my recap but I'll talk about it again. It is a little confusing to me that we did the Ankarna subplot right after we did the very similar Cassandra subplot. It took up so much time this season which I don't think is an issue in and of itself, it's just that we literally just went through some extremely similar beats last season. Why double up on this same storyline when there's so much new ground to cover? Or if we're going to raise a god, why not make it a different kind of god? One theory I had early on was that the Rat Grinders were trying to raise their own god to one-up the Bad Kids but instead of raising a chill, misunderstood Cass type, they accidentally raised a god who was erased for a good reason and got in over their heads. 

It's fun for there to be connections between seasons but sometimes it's like, OK that's a *lot* of coincidences. Like the god who your rivals is trying to raise *happens* to be the wife of your cleric's god and also *happens* to be the god of the fiend trapped in your friend's mom's chest and that fiend *happens* to be the relative on your bard's dad's side which is *also* the reason she is randomly cursed? That's a LOT of red string connecting plot points. As unhinged as Kipperlilly is about coveting Riz's backstory if I saw that go down I'd be like you have *got* to be kidding me.  

The mystery elements didn't feel like they clicked as well as they did in other seasons. I think that's partially because Porter's plan was so convoluted (seriously, I made another post about how haphazard his plan was) and had all these moving parts and we didn't get clear answers for a lot of mechanical things like how the rage crystals actually work and when they were implanted and stuff. You had stuff like Devil's Honey which I think is super cool as a thing that exists in the world but ended up being an element that just led the players down the wrong path and had a relatively small payoff (that Porter was using it to lie to Ankarna). I think it's plausible that a forgotten god would be willing to listen to anyone saying the right things without introducing this element. (As opposed to, for instance, Ambrosia which has a very clear connection to what's going on and is a solid clue that someone is flirting with aspirations of godhood.) 

The Porter reveal came so late in the season that even though it was a fun/challenging fight, there wasn't a lot of emotional weight behind killing him. It was basically just dunking on a teacher Fig has always hated who was also mean to Gorgug so screw him. Which, valid of course. But the Bad Kids were never going to react as strongly to Porter as they were to the Rat Grinders so putting Porter in the prime villain spot isn't necessarily what I would have done if I wanted the fight to be more than just a brawl--especially since we've done "School admin with student minions" already in S1. I don't mind the full circle callback but it would have been nice to pick something else for the sake of variety. We haven't had a child mastermind yet and I think Kipperlilly could have been a great candidate for that. My friend suggested that it would have been fun if Kipperlilly was trying to become a god instead of just being Porter's underling and I agree. "I'm not anyone's chosen one so I'll choose myself," is still within her established jealousy and Type A tendencies. If we want to keep Porter involved since that was Brennan's gift to Emily, maybe have it be that instead of Kipperlilly working for him, he's working for her. Like Artemis Fowl vibes! And the Rat Grinders can be varying levels of on board--from true believe to redeemable. I don't think Brennan planned for the Bad Kids to ever redeem her so might as well go full megalomaniacal mastermind with her and make her The Villain if she's not gonna be nuanced anyway. If My Little Pony can do it and send a literal child to Tartarus for pony treason (or whatever Cozy Glow did), Fantasy High can too. 

Continuing from the above, if we have the Porter fight in place of the Grix fight (a la Daybreak) and don't use Ankarna, that gives way more time for the Bad Kids to investigate the Rat Grinders throughout the season and it would mean that they would have their personalities developed a lot more. With the limited downtime, they Bad Kids didn't have a lot of time to spend on these kids who were just hating on them for no good reason (valid). But if you cleared their plate of the god hunt stuff, they'd have more time for this. And if they weren't all rage zombies to varying degrees, it would be easier to see them as characters. Besides Kipperlilly (and, funnily enough, Mary Ann) we don't really have a good read on what these kids are actually like. The little time we spent with them all season was kind of a wash if them breaking out of rage means their personalities got laundered too. Anyway, regardless of how their loyalties ended up shaking out, it would have been fun for them to be more than the minions that they were in canon. As funny as it is for them to just kinda be XP farming losers, they did have the potential to be more interesting in their own right if they weren't just Porter's minions. And again, we've done adults forcing or coercing children into being minions in Freshman and Sophomore Year already. Lemme see some self-created child maniacs! (Or, peer pressured child maniacs. That's cool too. The Lucy/Kipperlilly dynamic is way more interesting to me if it's like girl, I would take a bullet for you but I CANNOT walk this path with you any further in response to *I* will be a god and you can be *MY* champion.)

Anyway, those are my thoughts! Like I said, I have my points that I think could have been tightened, but overall an enjoyable season and I will be glued to my screen if they decide to close out with Senior Year! 

[its-all-papaya]

wait i have to add: "I'll write that injury landoscar for you down the road as an apology" NO IT WAS PERFECT THANK YOU !!! but i won't say no to injury landoscar so if you want to write it 👀 (i would be happy!) that's an ask i'd like for the I wish you would write a fic where... ask game tbh!

maybe like. one of them hears that the other crashed or sees it happen and finishes the race on autopilot, frantically asking if the other is okay over the radio and not getting a straight answer (like ferrari: we are checking) and after the race not giving a SHIT, running directly to where he's told by someone the other is although maybe having a podium finish? or media duties?, ignoring everyone on the way there and then seeing they're alright and just. taking the biggest breath ever known. and being overwhelmed? and then just. kissing him in front of the medics? idk. but! it could also be soft, finding the other after all the media duties and after the other was cleared for visitors and they're sitting there under shitty hospital lighting, one of them cracking jokes about being not life-threateningly injured and the other just shaking because he could've LOST him and it all suddenly shifts and makes sense in his head and there's never been a world in which losing the other wouldn't break him. and then it's the most important thing in the world to be able to taste the breath in the other person's lungs and feel his heartbeat quicken and have PROOF that he's alive and warm and not dead. is this too much? probably. but i'm DYING to hear your thoughts on how YOU would write it PLEASE!!

Okay, yeah, Landoscar injury fic lfg, let's do this. Here's how I'd do it:

The thing about me is I always have to have An Angle. I can't write straight-up fluffy comfort, I've gotta make the characters THINK first. So this is kind of not the exact same as your description, but I think I'd write it from the POV of injured Oscar. Hear me out, hang on.

tell me what you wish I'd write

So Oscar gets hurts in a crash and he's sent to the hospital, obviously. The whole way out of the car and on the way, he's like... not panicking, but not feeling well at all. Nothing makes rational sense in an ambulance, everything feels high-stakes and scary and serious and the shock is still setting in, so he can't process that well. Oscar obviously isn't very open about how he's feeling, usually, either, so being noticeably affected by things is just more stress on top as he fights to keep the cool, calm demeanor people expect out of him.

See, generally, Oscar tries not to need too much from anybody. But he's hurt and a little scared and lonely and the lingering shock combined with whatever's in his IV drip is making his emotions stronger and closer and not anywhere near as manageable as normal. Kim is there, but Oscar wants Lando telling him jokes and giving him soft eyes and holding his hand and telling him it's going to be okay, because Lando always knows how to handle new situations Oscar hasn't been in yet. And Oscar's trying so so hard to be normal about it all, but he's actually Not Okay.

I wasn't around for Vegas '23 (ironic because I was accidentally in Vegas hours after the GP, but I didn't follow F1 yet, so) but I've read a lot of post-vegas fic and it's all cute and needy Lando, which is a great genre. But I think I'd set that as Oscar's mental backdrop for this. Because they weren't even them yet in Vegas, weren't like they are now, and even still Lando asked for Oscar in the hospital and had no problem reeling him in by the hand and taking comfort from him when he needed it. And they're much closer now! Lando definitely cares a lot about him! Oscar knows that! So why is he so nervous to just ask for him?

Oscar would spend a decent amount of time trying to figure out how to ask Kim to get Lando there: thinking up excuses for why he needs Lando for something specific, reasons it makes sense, or why it might benefit everyone, but when he finally gets up the nerve to just ask, Kim is like "?? yes? Lol. Obviously Lando is coming. He's been asking about you nonstop, drove both Will and his press officer up a wall asking for updates every five seconds. He's texted me 400 times in the last 20 minutes. Lando is for sure coming, you actually don't really get a say in that one. Silly goose."

Oscar is usually so unbothered, but as soon as Lando shows up, he knows it's going to be a struggle not to lose it, because like... Lando's in the door looking adorable and concerned and Oscar NEEDS Lando so much closer. Immediately. He needs Lando holding his hand and petting his hair and whispering to him even though they don't even really do those things normally.

And Lando's worried, so he gets to Oscar's bedside and is restless. Hand on the covers, eyebrows pulled together, trying to straighten things and fluff pillows and asking about Oscar's pain levels and where he's hurt and eventually he just goes "Fuck, Oscar, can I just- I need to hug you. Please. Is that okay?"

Lando's so gentle with it, trying not to hurt his boy, but Oscar like... cannot hold it together. And so he starts breathing a little funny in his effort not to cry or do anything to show how everything is hitting at once, how he wants Lando, but Lando of course notices that something is wrong. Probably assumes he's hurting Oscar, so he pulls back, but that's the opposite of what Oscar wants. So suddenly, horrifyingly, he's tearing up, and that makes Lando panic more because he's probably never seen Oscar cry. Didn't think that was a thing Oscar did. And Oscar's shaking his head, and his heart rate monitor does not sound normal, and Lando's like "...shit. Fuck. Do you need me to call the nurse?" and Oscar is like "no, just come back. please, lando."

Lando goes, obviously, sits on the side of Oscar's bed and picks up Oscar's hand in both of his own and starts rubbing his wrist a little and saying "hey, it's okay, buddy, I've got you, I'm right here. Deep breaths, you're gonna be okay, I'm not going anywhere."

It should feel patronizing, being talked to like that, but instead it takes the anxiety back down a few notches, outside the range of imminent panic. Oscar feels like a little child again, needing to be held after scraping his knee, but he does. Need to be held, that is. So he's fighting this internal battle between needing comfort and wanting to be good and normal about the situation, and his control is softened by his pain meds so he can't school his expressions as well as normal, and soon Lando’s asking “What is it? You need more pain meds? Kim? What do you need, Osc?”

SNIPPET TIME CONGRATS !

Oscar can’t look at Lando when he says it, but he finally manages to mumble “can you come lay with me?” at the ceiling. Lando doesn't spare him a moment to second-guess before he's kicking off his shoes and climbing up, arranging Oscar's limbs a little so they’ll both fit. His arm’s around Oscar’s shoulders in a blink, and everything’s a little less overwhelming when Oscar can turn his chin just a little and smell Lando’s body wash, can twitch his fingers and touch the soft hem of Lando’s sweatshirt. Reality gets a little more tangible again, and Oscar thinks it's funny, how he feels a fraction more himself when he's pressed to Lando's side.

The beep of the heart-rate monitor fades back into ambient noise as it settles towards normal. Or normal for them, Oscar supposes. In the middle of his contemplating, Lando starts tracing the vein on the soft side of Oscar's arm, wrist to the crook of his elbow. Two fingers, one on either side, raising goosebumps across the exposed skin. The disconnect the crash had rattled into Oscar's brain shifts a little under Lando's attention, gets a little floatier and a little less disorienting. He's getting sleepier, and it's probably the last of the IV bag dripping steadily through the back of his hand, but it's nicer to believe it's Lando, chasing the drugs up towards his heart with those same two fingers. Oscar gives up one more piece, a little more control, as he snuggles a little deeper into Lando's side. He's allowed to, he thinks. Here. Like this. Lando must agree, because he hums happily at the movement and hugs Oscar even closer. Through the fog in his brain, Oscar thinks he feels lips at his temple.

"Thank you," he mumbles into the collar of Lando's t-shirt.

"Of course," Lando says, and "thank you. It's nice. To lay like this. Was worried about you."

And then, after a long moment of silence, "It's okay to need things, Osc. From anybody, but especially from me. There's not a lot I wouldn't do for you. Okay? You can always ask."

Oscar frowns, because "I don't need anything, it's not like that." His forehead wrinkles as he bats the exhaustion back. The excuse is sitting at the tip of his tongue, but he can't quite feel it out.

Lando gives him a second, then takes over again. It's a reversal, Lando finding Oscar's words for him, thumbing worries away like sweaty hair from his temple.

"It's also okay to want things, Oscar."

Oscuh.

Oscar, feeling a little braver or maybe just a little less afraid, palms his way across Lando's stomach, curls his hand around Lando's side, taps his fingers against the warm space below Lando's ribs.

"What do you want, baby?" Lando asks into the skin above his ear.

Oscar lifts his head a little, blinks through his lashes up at his teammate. He's hallucinating, or the concussion is worse than they thought, because there's no way that those words are coming out of Lando's mouth in that tone with nobody to hear them but Oscar himself. Lando's fingers drag a bit firmer against his wrist, the catch of nails sending little shivers through Oscar's limbs.

Oscar remembers Las Vegas, remembers how the same fingernails had left little white half-moons in the back of his hand, how they had taken hours to fade, and he gets it, finally.

Lando's fingers come to rest in the middle of Oscar's wrist, right over his pulse.

"Stay? Please?" Oscar says. The lips on his temple are firmer this time, impossible to explain away. "Until I can go," he adds. Lando's still pressing little kisses down the side of his face, so Oscar sums up the rest of his courage and finishes with, "And tonight." He doesn't say forever, but it's only a breath away.

And then Lando takes him home and takes care of him and it's soft and cute and Lando falls asleep listening to Oscar's heartbeat and kisses him awake in the morning and makes sure he takes his pills and he heals up and they become boyfriends the end <3

Thank you for the ask !! And for the compliments in general !! Hope this was nice for you even though it was STILL not desperate. I'm too Soft (TM).

[midnightnautilus]

Another reason I really love Watcher World is that the idea of being actively perceived and judged is baked into the character’s wants and Blinky knows exactly how to draw that out.

Since amusement parks have been invented basically (and with vacations in general) there’s always that expectation to make memories, to take pictures, to fit that quota of a happy occasion. Of course Blinky sets up an amusement park to torture mortals! It’s an active feeding ground for milking human drama and that pressure to meet that societal norm!

Everyone else is having fun. Look at them. Why aren’t you?

That kind of mentality

Bill wants Alice to like him and have a connection with her, while still blind to seeing her for who she truly is - the carnival barker scene lays Bill’s vulnerabilities bare in front of a crowd of people.

“He’s a failure as a father.

He WAS a failure as a husband!”

Everything Bill is self conscious about and is working to actively change is being poked and prodded at. He’s called “weak” and “pathetic”, further emasculating him.

And when Bill does what Blinky wants? He validates him. He calls him a strong man. He gives him love he hasn’t gotten from his daughter or ex wife in so long. He’s feeding right into his ego.

And with Alice she’s prime for Blinky cause he’s basically like social media on steroids - teenagers are already super self conscious of themselves and are starting to try and craft that image of who they want to be in the world, and social media has only heightened that.

Alice is so worried about being there for Deb and missing out on her chance with her, so she (paraphrasing here) even says she HAS to like and look at these posts or Deb thinks she won’t care. She is so scared of people’s perceptions of her and feels out of her depth that it’s prime for Blinky’s influence to come in and point all that blame at her dad.

Cause yeah the situation isn’t great between them already and it’s a nuanced issue the father and daughter need to communicate out but why would you need to do that? You know that the others are thinking about YOU and all the mistakes you’ve made.

No. All the mistakes THEY made.

Until paranoia and ego invade a person’s brain until all that’s left is a puppet ready to be influenced.

[utilitycaster]

1. Why do you like or dislike this character? - Percy and/or Keyleth?

I like both of them, so:

I like Percy for the surface reasons of intelligence and witty comebacks and the general Taliesin Jaffe Arrogant Guy Is Confidently Wrong About Many Things reasons, but more specifically I like how incredibly aware he is of social structures and doesn't dismiss them as stupid or fake or meaningless just because he is aware how much artifice is involved. I love how much he validates Vex in this, as someone who's been on the other side of that social divide most of her life and who knows she "shouldn't" care but does, deeply. It would be so easy for him to say "look, titles are stupid and fake, I should know, I have one," but instead he says "no, I see what this means to you, because yes it's all an accident of birth and yes it is kind of stupid and fake, but it's also the reason why you lived rough for your teens and early 20s, and you are not silly for wanting this security." I also think he's a great exploration of guilt and of someone who has a lot of complicated feelings from the gods but does value their counsel; we don't get a lot of characters with that sort of nuance. His scene with the Raven Queen remains a standout for me and for all he can be melodramatic and obnoxious at times, he is also like 25, traumatized, and should be at the club. I think the question he answers (why would someone invent the gun) is an interesting one, and I think the way that his story ends up with the obvious inevitable happening and yet he still finds happiness is unexpected and wonderful to see.

I like Keyleth for a lot of reasons people will probably be annoyed about, which is...she is annoying. Annoying women: may we know them, may we be them, and may we raise them. Anyway, I think her terror of doing the wrong thing at the cost of doing anything sets up a fantastic arc for someone who is expected to become a leader. I admire how she knows she's not the most eloquent and is scared of her responsibilities but does not back down from speaking up when she disagrees with the party. I like how she's perhaps the only example of lifespan angst that is actually portrayed as making a lot of sense, especially since she is also extremely young (probably shouldn't be at the club given the bar crawling results. She should be at ZooLights and have like, one cider.) I think in general her fears are incredibly real and make sense for the character and shape her, and that's not something you see portrayed with this amount of depth very often. I stuck with the VM-era portrayal of Percy but I will say I especially love how Keyleth is portrayed in Campaign 3, because Percy hasn't changed a ton in adulthood, merely mellowed out a little, but Keyleth very much has as she's grown in confidence, as she was only at the beginning of that during the Campaign. I think her relationship with Vax is incredibly good for both of them; her sense of belonging to a place and his ability to support. I do like that she gets angry, especially after so much time being insecure, but I feel much has been made of her anger and I don't have a ton to add there, and also while I like that she is angry and expresses it, there are other characters I gravitate to for that specifically. Also I have incredible respect for her having to take on a much bigger magical burden than expected; I have said this before but my longest-running character was in a campaign where the player playing sorcerer switched to ranger, and the cleric left, leaving me as the only full caster and primary healer (though thankfully we got a baller paladin shortly after). The fact that Keyleth had to, and could, be whatever the party needed mechanically was a godsend. I know VM died a lot but they would have died like 20 times more without her and Scanlan and especially without her.