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kisses4reid · 9 hours

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missed it | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you celebrate your birthday alone in tears, until someone knocks on your door.

genre - colleague!reid x fem!reader, angst, fluff

warnings - angst, crying, memories of neglect and favouritism

a/n - a little self indulgent. thank you for 450 followers!!!! taglist is open as always, sorry for the cliff hanger.

Crisscross applesauce on a wooden barstool in front of leftovers from the night before. Exactly how every Wednesday night is. It’s raining, you can smell petichor, and you had just finished a book your colleague had lended you two days prior.

There is nothing special about today.

Your day was full of paper work and coffee breaks. Exactly how every Wednesday is. It was overcast, you could smell petichor, and you had just handed in some classified paperwork to your boss.

There was nothing special about today.

You night will be sleepless, full of tears and terrible memories. Not like every Wednesday night. It will storm, you’ll smell dirt and mud, and you’ll show up the next day to pretend you’re as bubbly and smiley as every one thinks you are.

There is nothing ever special about today.

You gripped your fork and stuffed the last of the leftover rice into your cheeks, chewing as a coping mechanism for the ball gathering at the back of your throat.

Glancing at your phone every two minutes didn’t help the gathering tears either, especially when it was a black screen every time. It happens every year.

Maybe your little cousin will send some emojis and a love heart, but it’s been years since that last happened. Your brothers and sister would get posts on your mothers Facebook, and you got a happy birthday from a distant aunty you met once when you were 3.

Maybe this is why when you dry yourself and start your nighttime routine, you light the candle you bought yourself, and get changed into pyjamas you bought yourself, and you light a skinny colourful candle you bought yourself.

You don’t get the chance to blow it out before a tear extinguishes it.

A sob rakes through you. Even in these warm pyjamas surrounded by your favourite vanilla and citrus scent, you can’t seem to be happy with what you’ve got. That’s what your father would tell you every birthday until you were 11 - when the presents stopped rolling in.

Be grateful for the clothes you’ve already got, for the books you’ve already read, for the food you’ve already eaten.

Be grateful that your little sister can breathe to blow out your candles, that your brothers have hands to open your presents.

Be grateful.

You are grateful you got that part time job to move out so young, that you were accepted in the BAU and welcomed with open arms, that it gave you the financial stability to own your own apartment with windows to get rained on and bookshelves to fill.

The covers on your bed were darkening with every tear that dropped from your cheek. It was ruining your skincare.

A laugh escapes you, barely audible through your closing throat, before you hear a firm knock on your front door.

Slippers on, hair loose and messy, you opened the door with a frown. It was not the day nor time for any soliciting or girl scout cookies. But you stopped for a second and glanced at the time displayed on your oven. It was 11pm.

“Y/n? Are you awake?”

Your eyes widened at Spencer Reid’s voice, eyebrows furrowing and hand quick to twist the door knob.

“Spencer what are you-“

“Happy birthday?” A full teeth smile was plastered on his place, but you didn’t notice as his face was hidden by a vanilla cake and small bag with plastic casing over it.

Any other time Spencer would be welcome in, it would make sense today wouldn’t be any different. For gods sakes, he has a key to your front door - but when his smile fades and you feel the last tear drop catch on your socks, you rethink opening the door all together.

“Y/n… are you okay?”

You felt a pit of coal and ash stir in the bottom of your uneasy stomach. Your eyes flashed between his eyes and the cake, one last single tear dropping down your cheek.

Spencer caught it with his thumb, wiping it with a deep frown.

“I’m fine,” you stepped back to let him in, plastering an awkward smile on your face (something you hoped would say caught me!), “Sad movie, that’s all.”

“A sad movie on your birthday?” He set down the bag and cake on your kitchen countertop, concerned expression not lifting after your lie. You bit your lip as his eyes wandered the apartment.

He had been there a million times, but now he seemed to be profiling it.

There was an orange stained plate in the sink - probably your left overs, no indent on the couch nor movie playing on the TV. He peered into your bedroom to find a wrecked bed and slouched pillows, tissues splayed amongst the duvet.

You swallowed, feeling caught and trapped. There was no escaping this, Spencer was too good of a profiler.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes were a deep brown, glossy against his matte chocolate hair. He wore those glasses you liked, even when he insisted he hated how he looked in them. What a beautiful sight in such a sad situation.

You brought your left hand to your right elbow and shook your head, “It’s okay-“

“No it’s not.”

“Spencer, I’ve dealt with this for over 12 years. You get used to it.”

Spencer stood a metre away from you, eyes scanning you like he was trying to scrap the skin off your bones, see what was really going on.

And at that point, in your den of lies and self-pity, you felt no more rotten truths could hurt you more than you had hurt yourself. Spencer wasn’t much taller than you, but looking at him for this long at an angle was beginning to hurt more than your heart.

You grabbed the cake off of your counter top and smiled as if nothing wrong was happening, “Cake! You brought me cake.”

Spencer followed you into your living room awkwardly, “Yeah. It’s vanilla- I brought it because we didn’t eat at work today, nobody…”

Said Happy Birthday.

You nodded to yourself, patting the space beside you for Spencer to sit. “I know, it’s okay. It was a very busy day, I don’t blame them.” You undid the lid of the cake - obviously store bought - and took in your hand a wine glass that had stood empty for around half an hour. “Thank you, my favourite flavour is vanilla.”

“I know.” The tall boy let out a small smile then, but it quickly disappeared. He hated how you shrugged off such a devastating situation, how it meant nothing to you, how you claimed it had been like this for 12 years and not broken down.

“Y/n-“ Your loud sigh cut him off, stabbing the wine glass into the cake and lifting it, taking a bite of cake that slide out of the cup. The couch softened under your sudden slouch, Spencer faced you with his legs spread like a man.

Your eyes felt tight, chest collapsed. Nothing could be worse than this.

“My birthday is a week after my older brothers, so even when we did celebrate my birthday, it was small. And then one of my uncles passed away a few days after, and celebrating my birthday was seen as inappropriate.” You took another bite and talked through the frosting, “Instead at Christmas they let me choose which presents were for my birthday, many months late. I was grateful, that was all that mattered.”

Spencer moved closer and whispered, “Being grateful for neglect isn’t healthy, Y/n.”

“But it helped me, as a kid. As a girl who wanted to be loved so badly. When your siblings blow out your candles, and your cake is your sisters favourite flavour, all you can be is spiteful. And when I was, I was reprimanded. Be grateful, Y/n. At least you have siblings who can breathe and eat.”

You laughed after some time, Spencer’s mind racing at a hundred miles per minute.

“So I never told anyone my birthday. That’s why I showed up at the door looking like this,” you point to yourself and giggle, “I didn’t think anyone knew.”

“You look gorgeous.” He whispered, thigh touching yours on the plush couch. His hand lifted and skimmed your face, thumb moving to wipe a dot of frosting off of your lips. His hand fell.

“What’s in the bag?” You ask.

“Open it and see.” He replies.

What’s inside surprises you more than his initial arrival. It a medium sized glass bottle of perfume, with simple rinestones and gorgeous patterns engraved in it, a baby pink ribbon around its neck. The words were in french, the only words in english reading vanilla & citrus, in cursive writing.

A breath escaped you, your fingers tracing each detail like you were to memorise it. Spencer gulped as your eyes were glued to the writing and the shiny glass, how the liquid inside sloshed only slightly at every move.

“It is… do you like it?” He asks, turning his body towards yours trying to scope out your expression.

“I love it.” You mumble in awe.

“What?”

“I love it, thank you. Spencer, this is…” A wide smile escaped you, an incredulous giggle accompanying it. He let out a held breath and wove his shaking fingers through his hair. He was still at a loss for words at your previous confessions, but at least he made you happy, laugh.

Your eyes held each other for a moment, the room getting so suddenly small and hot.

“I…” you try to finish your sentence before you notice his gaze flickering to your lips, causing a small smile to appear.

“Happy birthday, Y/n. I’m sorry your birthdays were overlooked, I promise they won’t be anymore.” Spencer whispered, leaning in.

taglist (open!!) : @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #cm

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liveontelevision · 1 day

Note

MY FAVE POOKIE.... BY ANY CHANCE CAN.. CAN YOU WRITE FOR A VAMPIRE LUCI?? <3 I FEEL LIKE YOU'D CAPTURE HIM PERFECTLY

YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING HERE BBG

(You're drawing of vamp Luci is literal eye candy and I'M IN A SUGAR COMAAA) I got way into the lore here I literally did nothing but write and edit this today - THAT BEING SAID this may need a 2nd part but lmk what y'all think

CW: He's a vamp, so.. blood in suggestive situations obvi

♡♡♡

Bite Me | Vamp Lucifer x Reader

"Isn't it just amazing?" You hold a book, opened to a certain illustration, far too close to your friend's eyes. They push the book back a bit just to get a peak, considering their nose was essentially in the pages. The paper reeked of dust and mildew. They subsided a sound of disgust to inspect the illustration you were so eager to show off.

"Oh! This is that weird mansion on the other side of town, but.. it looks..."

"Stunning? This was what it looked like when it was first built and look-" You excitedly point out a certain tower, it was so thin and far back, that not even the pencil of the original artist could capture its true detail.

"Wait, that's not there anymore, is it? Weird." Your friend shrugged it off, clearly not as invested as you. You scoff, pulling the book to your chest.

"Well.. not in the daytime, at least." You muttered. This was your hometown's rumor that's been spread for centuries. On the highest hill, past the overcrowded forest, sits the darkest and most foreboding manor anyone has seen. Even the oldest living relatives of those who have seen it, never recall what it looked like in its glory days. No one's quite sure when it was first built. It's as if it had always been there.

No one would really talk, only the seniors and the more.. eccentric.. People would even mention it. A tower that exceeded the height of the full moon, which was the only time it was visible to the naked eye. You've seen it yourself. But you were too inspired, too invested, to be satisfied with a little rumor and a single sighting.

You did your research. You scowered the forest, only to get lost for hours. You managed to find the manor, but in its close proximity, there was no sign of that tower. You found a book, shoved away under some shelf in your public library, depicting poorly written journal entries and illustrations. From what you could decipher, it was older than the town.. it must belong to its original tenants.

The handwriting was almost entirely illegible, which was disappointing, but the pictures inside.. they were crafted beautifully. Scenic drawings of the forest, animals, and a few of a stunning woman were scattered throughout. Every historian you tried to contact left your messages unopened. Any townspeople you'd show the pictures to, to see if they’d recognize the woman at least, looked at you like you were crazy.

Well.. crazy or not, there's only one real way to settle this.

You mark your calendar, circling every full moon for the rest of the year. And it nearly took that long to finally spot the tower, again. After all this time, restless nights where you'd fall asleep with the book in hand, strained sessions of trying to decipher the wording, yet it all got you nowhere. You'd lost friends because of this. You've skipped dates. All because of this damned tower.

But finally, here it is! Ready to throw yourself from your bedroom window, you take the bag that had been packed for months in case of this very instant, but decide it best to leave through the front door.

You had memorized the path to the manor at this point. What could possibly be drawing you in so deeply? What history could this place possibly hold? Who was the woman drawn in this book.. and who was the artist? You stood in awe, finally seeing the tower up close. The manor itself seemed to be made of an entirely different stone. You jot down your notes and the differences you're seeing in a small book.

You nearly squeal at the sound of the creaking double doors, as you step inside. It wasn't your first time here, you reach into your bag to obtain the little map you had drawn out a few weeks back. Were you going insane? Who's to say? You traced your finger across a path you had drawn, then with determination, went towards the corridor that should lead you to whatever you were looking for.

You stopped and took pictures on occasion, observing things you have seen countless times over the past few months. It still managed to take your breath away. You turned around, stepping backward, to observe the intricate detailing of the high ceilings, letting out little ooh's and aah's you'd assume no one would hear. But you couldn't be sure.

You nearly stumble, turning to face the corridor head-on. A crumbling noise had sent a shock of fear and curiosity into your heart. Was this place ready to cave in? Did something else cause the destruction?

As you continue on, you decide it best to place headphones over your ears. With one ear still slightly free, you do your best to distract your fears and keep exploring. As you hum along, occasionally breaking out into song, your eyes are drawn to a small doorway that definitely was not there during your previous visits. It's made of a different wood than the other doors. It looks.. newer. The handle seems used as If the oils of a hand had worn down its clean coating. This has to be it. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the door, and your heart drops for a moment. It’s warm underneath your touch. With a final breath, you open the door.

It’s.. not exactly what you were expecting. The door led to an impossibly long spiral staircase, you weren't sure if you could make it to the top before daylight. It's too late to go back now, though. You dredge on. As you start your climb, the music from your headset turns to static. And what you expected to be a mile-long staircase ended in mere seconds. Confused by the distortion of the building, you pull out your little journal to document your new discovery as you continue on.

The steps lead into the tower, you were sure of it. The bricks of the walls and the wood of the doors, it was all different than the manor below. It opened into a short hallway, with a few doors on either side. Opposite to you was a window. It wasn’t shattered or cracked, or even dusty. You press your hands against it and lean forward to see the view of your town. In a stereotypical, I can see my house from here! moment, you pull out your phone to take yet another picture, but.. it's dead. After being fully charged before your arrival. Of course. It's a magical tower that only appears on a full moon and has disappearing staircases, you weren't too shocked by sorcery after what you've exposed yourself to.

As you take in the terrifying height of the structure from the window, something happens that officially startles you for the first time tonight. You hear a gruesome cackling from behind a nearby doorway.

You quickly find its source, pressing your ear to the wooden door. You couldn't make out any specific words, but there was a voice. It was a man's voice. He seemed to laughing, then groaning and complaining about something, then talking some more.. quite a blabbermouth for someone who seems to be alone, you don't hear any other voices.

You have a weapon in your bag. It's nothing fancy, just a little switchblade, but you assumed it'd be enough to ward off at least a single person. Just in case. You decide to go in.

"Oh, who am I kidding, this sucks!" An exacerbated groan, and the sound of something crashing, can be heard as you crack the door open a bit. You peek inside.

A pacing man is surrounded by trinkets, books and tools in some kind of workshop. He looks human.. almost. You notice his skin is nearly paper white. It has a beautiful glow to it, that contrasts against his mostly black wardrobe. You clock his clothes as almost Victorian, a puffed blouse that cinches in at his waist with the assistance of a red-laced vest. His heels seem a bit tall for the time period, but even then, he's actually rather.. short. Despite that, his hair was slicked back but seemed to be coming undone. You watch him pace around for a while longer, finally capturing his arms running through his hair. They're tapered black, as if his hands were dipped in soot. How odd. You want a picture. You want to talk to him, to ask him questions.

You're too engrossed in the view you were spying on to notice he had stopped his jabbering and was now frozen in place at the sight of you. An awkward amount of time passes before either of you make a decision on what to do next.

You decide it best to just forget about this random encounter. This was obviously just another dream. It wasn't, but this wouldn't even be the strangest one you've had. You finally break eye contact, pulling the door shut behind you.

You lean your entire body against it, desperate to keep him contained until you can get your thoughts straightened out. Maybe he's nice! Maybe he's not an insane, inhuman, tinkerer who talks to himself. Before you can think a moment longer, the door opens and thoroughly knocks you to the floor. You scuff your knees and palms against the stone floor, hissing at the wounds before turning on your back to face your attacker.

Okay, it wasn't an attack, exactly. He just opened the door you were standing in front of. You were a little shocked, considering you were putting your full weight on it and he swung it open like nothing was there at all.

your widened eyes were met with his yet again. They seemed different than before. His irises were suddenly glowing a crimson red, staring down at you with a look of disgust. Your heart rate quickens as you finally catch more of his features. The glow of his eyes and the moonlight from the window show off a set of demonic horns, twisting and turning from his temples, and pointed ears. Then finally, you spot his frown- then his fangs.

You slowly crawl backward, making as much distance as you can before your back hits the cold stone of the wall. Your breathing rapidly as he kneels down, continuing to observe your tense body language from such a close distance.

"What is this- how did you get in? I made a whole fancy labyrinth for you little humans and you still manage to pester me." He seems curious now, still annoyed by the interruption, but curious. He catches the sight of your blade, taking it from underneath your hand.

"And you thought this could kill me?" He scoffs, tossing it to the side. "I thought the ones smart enough to get in would put more effort into their weapon of choice." He finally stands, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you. His piercing red irises had you staring for an inappropriately long time. He looks around, then behind him, in disbelief that you'd be this lost in his eyes. He clears his throat to get your attention.

"N-no! I don't want to kill you, I swear! I just.. I wanted to..." Why were you here again? To find what's inside the haunted tower? To explore a rumor and find the truth? You'd hate to consider it.. but could you have been wasting all this time after finally being faced with the anticlimactic answer? Your silence doesn't seem to amuse the stranger.

"What, you just stumbled upon my hidden tower? That doesn't sound right. Well, I'll tell you now, I'm not some genie or wizard- I won't grant you wishes or anything stupid like that." He starts to head back to his office. "I have nothing to offer you, so just pretend this is a nightmare or something and go home." You see a little flame puff from his lips as he speaks, clearly irritated by your presence.

"Wait- wait! I forgot!" You stumble to your feet, wincing at the pain in your scraped knees, but still going on to fumble through your bag. You find your tattered book. The relic that started this all.

"Is this yours?" He takes the book from your hand, skimming through the pages then glaring back up to meet your eyes.

"Did you steal this?" You shake your head with haste, watching him continue to examine the book. "Then.. yes. This is mine. I'm surprised it's still in one piece." He stops at one of the drawings of the woman. He brushes his hand across the illustration with a dreamy sigh.

"She's beautiful." Your voice breaks his concentration and you see his pale skin turn ever so slightly pink.

"She is, isn't she?" With a warm smile, you almost forget his threatening nature.

"Who was she?" He looks away from you, letting the book shut.

"It's not important. You need to leave." He leads you to the door. You try to keep up with his strides, only to fumble, your knees weak and bruised from the previous fall. He spots the bleeding scuffs and groans.

"Good lord, you humans are so fragile." You hear him grumble before he's turned on his heels and is dragging you back towards that workshop you intruded on. He grabs you by your arms and guides you to sit down at a little table he had set up. You examined the room after he had walked away. You saw his workbench. It held numerous little springs and gears, paints, and brushes. Looking to the side, you see a shattered figurine, probably what he had thrown during his little tantrum you spied on.

Seeing him standing above you stops your wandering eyes. He kneels down, already wrapping your wounded knees in gauze. You watched him silently. You were surprised at how comfortable the space seemed, considering a man with a demonic presence was currently tending to you like a nurse.

"So.. what are you exactly?" You finally blurted out. You had so many questions, but this was a good place to start.

"Oh. Um.. I think I hear humans referring to me as a vampire." Your blood runs cold and you squeeze the edge of your seat on either side. You feel his hand tremor for a moment, letting his eyes linger on your legs before finishing up one knee with a neat tie. He moves on to the next.

"So you're immortal and drink blood and all that?" He scoffs at your questioning shaking his head. You sound like a curious child.

"That’s.. Mostly correct. Actually, your human literature seemed to accurately portray a lot of my abilities. I'm almost impressed."

"Should I be scared?" You ask with an almost teasing tone, as if that weren't possible.

"Why? Do you think I'm scary?" He looks up for a moment, meeting your eyes. Its subtle, but you see them glowing just slightly. And it almost makes you nervous. Enraptured in an emotion you have to assume is fear, you watch his hands trail around and calf to bring your leg a bit closer. He sticks out his tongue. It's similar to a serpents’. Your eyes follow his tongue to your knee, where he licks the entirety of the wound.

In a state of shock, all you do is tense in your seat, wincing from his action. His tongue reels back, stained with the blood from your own wound. He lets out a breathy hum, before realizing his place.

"E-excuse me, I uh.. have healing properties..?" You cock your head to the side, the confusion in your mind quickly replaced with curiosity.

"Woah, really?" He finishes off your other knee.

".. No. Okay, all patched up. You have to leave." He said hurriedly before the realization could set in. He was embarrassed by his actions sure, but the sunrise softly lighting the room seemed to make him anxious.

"Wait- no! I have so many questions! Why do I have to go? How does this place just vanish in the daytime? Why are you here all alone?" You start to ramble as he manages to move you with ease. "A-at least tell me your name!" You say quickly, breaking from his grasp just before he can shove you out the door. He stops and lets out a sigh.

"Fine. Here." He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a small golden crystal attached to a necklace. Forcing your eyes down to his dipped neckline made you a bit red in the cheeks. With a quick motion, he swings it over your neck.

"This is an Asmodean crystal. You'll be able to see and enter my tower on any night now. You.. you're welcome to return when you see fit." You stare at the small gem in amazement.

"And.. you're just trusting me with this?"

He shrugs, smiling at you for the first time tonight. "You haven't given me a reason not to. You're definitely not a threat." You hum in response, despite his obvious condescending nature. giving the gem one last examination, you tuck it away into your own shirt.

".. And it's Lucifer."

You can't help but grin. “Okay! Time to go! The sun’s almost up!” He rushes you.

"Hm! I'll be back, then, I promise! I'll see you, Lucifer!" You excitedly wave and head back down the stairs. Lucifer.. Your mind was running with possibilities as you left. You turned to the door before leaving, but by the time you looked back, it was simply.. bricked over. You felt almost disappointed. But feeling for the necklace and twirling it between your fingers reminds you that this was all real. He's real.

Lucifer said you could visit. And so you did. While you passed out almost immediately once you returned home, you waited eagerly for the sun to set the next night. You check your window, again. With the crystal squeezed tightly in your fist, you see the familiar tower yet again, despite the full moon being nowhere in sight.

Unfortunately, you are human. You do have a life to live. It took you a few days before you could visit, again, but eventually you did. And it was perfect. Looking down upon in your hometown, it was refreshing to have a new friend. You told him about your own life, giving him some brief history lessons on things he might not know, and bringing him the stereotypical vampire merchandise from current media. He deemed it offensive.

You got him to talk about his past after some pushing. He was one of many brothers, all of them were bloodsuckers of their own accord.

"Wow.. so you came from a whole family of vampires? I mean.. if you don't mind me asking, why aren't you there? What brings you to my glamorous little town?" You say your last question with an eye roll. You were seated at a little bench, a comfortable nook that was set at the window in his workshop, as you watched him working on some sort of mechanical toy. You notice a slight frown tugging at his lips in response to your question.

"Hm. My brothers aren't exactly a fan of me. And you speak sarcastically, but it is actually quite nice here. The air is clearer, and there's much less fire." You look out the window as he's talking.

"Wait.. less fire than where?" He slipped up. You've noticed over these past few visits that he's not too keen on disclosing certain parts of his past. You see him stop what he's doing and curse under his breath.

"I.. I'm from a different realm, of sorts. It's dingy and dark and everyone there cares for nothing but bloodlust." He explains carefully.

"Damn, that sounds like Hell." You pull your knees to your chest, just attempting to sympathize with him by your words.

"You have no idea." He chuckles in response, seeming disarmed enough to continue his tinkering.

"Do you ever go back there? You have to see your family sometimes, right?" He's groaning quietly at your questions.

"Well, yes and no. I'm always here in my tower. And I put a lot of work into making it my own. I'd keep it here forever if I could, but it takes quite a bit of energy from me to keep it in good shape in this realm, so when the sun is out-"

"You return to your own realm! Wow.." you wished you had your book on you to write all this down. But it seemed unnecessary to bring a survival kit here. You felt so safe.

"How about that lady? In your book? Is she someone from that realm? A family member, maybe?" You bombard him with questions yet again. You do that a lot. He looked over at you with an unenthused glare. You laugh nervously and wave your hands. "N-Nevermind, sorry."

He's made it clear that he doesn't appreciate all these questions. But when he does open up, you can't help but appreciate his fantastical stories.

Looking for a change in topic, you approach his bench, looking over whatever he was working on. With one final screw being turned in, he looks up to you and shows you the small trinket silently. You take it, a bit nervous of its delicacy, and examine it.

"It's fine, it won't break." He rolls his eyes at your nerves. "Like this." He places a hand below yours to steady your grasp and lifts the top of the little round structure to reveal a little sculpted scene. It’s of a pond, with some fish and ducks visible on the pond. It looked so real, despite its size. He smirks at your enthralled expression, reaching for a small key on the back and turning it. It releases a gentle tune, the ducks suddenly spinning and dancing across the pond.

"A music box..?" You question. You look towards him and notice his reaction. He looks almost nervous like he was expecting some harsh critique.

"It's beautiful, Lucifer! Did you use magic or something? This is so cool!" Your outburst leaves him slightly surprised, and just a bit blushed.

"Y-Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?" He says softly, looking away with a smile. By the time he's looking back to you, still enjoying the little trinket, the sun is just peaking from the hills. He should rush to get you out of there. Humans don't belong in his realm, definitely not this one.. but he doesn't want this to end. He wants to show you more, while he listens to you rant about something useless. He shakes his head to reality. He can't have these feelings. Not again.

"It's morning. I'm afraid you have to go, dear." You look just as disappointed as he does, but follow him to the exit either way.

"Wait, here-" You hold the intricate music box back out to him, but he closes his hands around yours, encasing it in your grasp.

"Keep it." His hands are cold. You notice that his skin is always cold, no matter the weather. You wonder if he thinks about the warmth of your hands just as much. Your hands are held together for a bit too long, but the sight of your face in the golden light of the sunrise has him frozen in place.

"What happens if I stay?" Your hasty question snaps him away, quickly tucking his hands behind his back.

"Absolutely not." He says sternly, reaching around and opening his door. "Sorry.. I just.. It’s not safe. You’ll be back though, right?." He smiles, and it always disarms you. Briefly disappointed, you nod and give him a quick wave. You head back to your regular vampire-free life for the time being.

You find yourself back in his workshop, a few months later. The visits were becoming more frequent and neither of you seemed to complain about it.

Since then, the room has been decorated with pillows or blankets you've brought. On occasion, you'd go to see him just to sleep uncomfortably on the small cushioned nook near the window. He never seemed to mind. He'd wake you up carefully before the sun rose.

Other times, you'd bring him tools or gifts from your hometown that he might like, and occasionally you'd get him to eat actual food.

One night you set out one of your blankets on the ground and forced him to sit with you, after seeing him get flustered with whatever he was working on.

"Can you actually eat? Does it do anything for you?" He shrugs in response to your question, popping a little chocolate confection into his mouth.

"Not really. It's more for enjoyment than anything. And these are definitely enjoyable." As he hums at the sweets, he moves to lie down across the blanket, resting his head in your lap. "Where are they from?"

You look down at the little heart-shaped box you've both been taking the treats from and cringe.

"A.. uh.. person. It was a gift. Someone tried to take me out for Valentine's Day, but I wasn't interested." You say quietly.

"Right.. it’s Valentine’s Day… Well, what was wrong with them? Were they rude to you? Ugly?" He asks between bites. You laugh and take a chocolate for yourself.

"No, nothing like that.. they just..." They weren't you. "N-not my type is all." You stammer, quickly shoving the chocolate into your mouth. What are you thinking? He's laughing at you now.

"So you'd rather spend your Valentine's Day with an old crone?" He was joking, but he was right.

"Yeah.. I think I would, actually. I love visiting you." You said calmly, trying your best to keep the compliments.. platonic. Peeking down at him for a second, you notice his tense posture and pink cheeks.

"I-I just- it's not that big a deal, I mean, I've never really celebrated Valentine's Day anyway, so.." You start to fidget with your crystal necklace, picking at the thread and running your thumb along its smooth surface.

"Well..! Then... I'm glad you're enjoying my company, I suppose." He tries to de-escalate the brief tension. You change the subject matter.

"Well, if we're getting on my social life, then I have a question." You finally say. He seems nervous for a moment but is playing it cool to the best of his ability.

"Shoot."

"So, you stay in your tower all day, don't see your family, I don't even hear you talk about that woman from your drawings.. Have you just been alone this whole time?"

He freezes for a moment, before putting a chocolate back into the box and clearing his throat.

"No.. not the whole time." He sighs, standing and going to fetch something. He returns to sit across from you and you’re a little disappointed he didn’t return his head to rest in your lap. It was a journal, it had a similar binding to the one you had found over a year ago.

"Her name is Lillith." He starts, flipping the pages and stopping at one of her drawings. "She's from my realm, and.. we fell in love." For some reason, your heart ached at his words. "I decided to show her this place many years ago, and she wanted to see a nearby village, so.. we went down there together. It was disgusting. People were treating each other so foul, it was loud and dirty, and there was no sign of intelligence." His voice goes dark for a moment, allowing you to flip through the book. "But Lillith loved them. She saw their potential and.. wanted to stay with them. So we made a deal. She'd explore the village when the full moon was out and then return to me the rest of the time."

You look up from the book, seeing that her drawings had stopped about halfway through. The rest of the book was empty.

"So is she.." you mutter, letting the book drop to see his pained expression.

"I haven't seen her in years. Might be decades at this point, but.. it's hard to keep track. I have no idea where she could be, but if she ever returns then-"

"You're waiting for her?" You interrupt, your voice has a hint of irritation to it.

"Hm. I guess I am. I've given up trying to find her, but I still keep this place standing. Just in case." His face reads dejected as he speaks.

"Do you still love her?" You ask. Of course, he does. He's a romantic, waiting for his long-lost love to return. But he looks at you, with a worried expression. Like he wanted to reassure you that wasn't the case.

"I..I do." He says softly. You feel your chest aching still, and you clench the blanket in your fists on either side of you. "I think so? I-I'm not sure." He groans, running his hands through his hair. "Is that terrible of me?"

You think for a moment. You have to tread lightly. If he truly loves her, it might be best for you to keep your distance to avoid any.. confusion. You let out a defeated sigh, placing your hand on his shoulder to bring his panicked attention back to you.

"Not at all. It's.. nice. That you can love someone that much, especially after all this time." He smiles in return, placing a hand over top of yours.

"How long has it been, do you think?"

"Hmm.. From what I remember.. when were hot air balloons invented?" He genuinely questioned.

"Good lord."

(The answer is over 300 years ago)

You stopped visiting him for a while. After that night, you needed to step away and consider what you were really doing. He's not just an immortal vampire, he's an immortal vampire still holding out hope for a woman he hasn't seen in centuries. And you're just a human. That kind of relationship only works in movies. The sleep schedule you've created has nearly destroyed your social life and you barely have energy in the daytime anymore. Maybe it was for the best to keep your distance. But you have to tell him that. You can't just disappear, he doesn't deserve to feel that pain, again.

You enter his tower as usual, bringing an empty bag to escort some of your belongings back home. To your apartment, your awful tiny apartment. You avoid comparing it to the elegant manor, it's only making you want to back out. You go through the hall, swinging his workshop door open.

"Luciferrr! Sorry to be away for so long, but I think we should talk." You look around to realize you are speaking to an empty room. You look back to the hall. You've never been through any of the other rooms, but he had to be somewhere. And he wasn't responding to your calls.

You open each door carefully, seeing mostly empty storage and cobwebs. One of the rooms was filled to the brim with clothing from all decades. You make a mental note to tease him for playing dress up, later.

You knock at each door, finally opening one that greets you with the warmth of a bedroom. And by warmth, you mean it. You take any coat you were wearing off, finally spotting Lucifer lying in the elegant bed in the center of the room.

"Huh.. I thought you said vampires don't need sleep." You call out, letting your eyes scan the room as you approach the bedside. He's curled up and unresponsive. His sudden panting briefly eased your nerves, at least he’s breathing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in, but.. Lucifer? Are you okay?" You reach out and place your hand to his shoulder. He's hot to the touch. You move his body so that he's lying on his back, and he seems even more distressed.

"L-Lucifer..? Lucifer!" You try to speak quietly, but his actions are making you nervous. He finally shoots upward, gripping his bare chest in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. He does a double take, not believing that you were at his side. Not to mention your scared expression, which is only causing him more concern.

"I-I'm alright! I'm okay.." He lets out a sigh, brushing his hair back. He scans the room, peering out the window. "Ah, nighttime already? I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to worry you." He turns back to you, seeing your still-shaken expression. "I slept in! It's okay!" He reassures, patting the side of his bed. You hesitate, but sit down either way.

"I thought.. You didn’t need sleep." You say softly, looking to calm yourself.

"I don't, but it is relaxing sometimes."

"That didn't look relaxing at all."

"Well.. I did say only sometimes." You let out a quiet chuckle and it brings a smile to his face.

"I rest when I'm feeling a bit weak, usually a quick nap helps. But.. sometimes I get nightmares and they're-" You interrupt him.

"Weak? Why are you feeling weak? Did something happen?" You lean in, still feeling uneasy.

"... Just a bit. Don't get me wrong, I am quite powerful-” He loves to gloat about his abilities, your usual reactions of amazement never got old. “-but.. this tower takes its toll on me sometimes. It takes a lot of energy to set up illusions and tricks to keep humans out. I just needed a quick pick me up, that's all." That seemed to calm you a bit, but it did bring up another concern.

"Lucifer.. why do you keep coming back here? Is it worth the trouble? Is.. she worth the trouble?" You ask timidly. His eyes are soft, looking in your direction. It turns you a bit red, you hope you can blame it on the heat of the room if he asks.

"I don’t know.. I’ve been thinking. I-If Lillith has any plans on returning, I'd think she would've done so by now." You feel hopeful, but you attempt to not let it show. "But, I've been here for centuries and I've grown rather fond of... the atmosphere." He tries to reason. He pulls your chin forward, greeting you with a sweet smile. "I'm alright, I promise."

You can't help but return the smile, but you miss his touch once he pulls away. At this point, you're finally taking in his appearance. He's covered in sweat, the bags under his eyes are tremendous and his lips are trembling a bit to keep up a smile.

"Are you sure? You still seem.." You reach your hand out, as if you were about to touch his face, but you see him reel back.

"Clearly, I didn't get a good night's rest.. maybe you should head home, dear, I'm not much fun to be around when I'm like this.." He sulks, making it a point to avoid looking at you. With just the sight of you, he might as you to stay.

"No!" His wide-eyed expression shows that you've clearly just embarrassed yourself. "No, I mean- I don't want to leave. Can I help? Can you.. drink my blood or something? Would that do anything?" He's immediately blushing at your suggestion, right to the tips of his ears. He quickly declines.

"No. Nonono.. That is not happening." He crosses his arms over his still bare chest, which neither of you has mentioned yet. That’s not to say you haven't been staring.

"Would it help?" You ask. He sighs and nods. "Would it kill me?" He shakes his head. "Not if I'm careful.."

"Will it turn me into a vampire or something?" He shakes his head, again.

"Then do it. I want to help you! It's the least I can do since you’ve been so sweet to me." You say sternly, beginning to move the strap of your shirt, revealing a bare shoulder.

"Woah woah, okay. Fine.. I’ll just take a little. Since you're so insistent." He moves your strap back up your shoulder carefully. "And there's no need for that, dear, don't get too excited." He teases. He looks like he’s on the brink of death, yet he still manages to make fun of you.

"I-I'm not excited! Shut up.." you stammer, as you feel him pull your hand towards him, keeping a grip just below your wrist.

"Whatever you say." His smirk has you blushing, again." you ready?" You nod your head, attempting to keep a straight face despite the reality of the situation.

He leans forward to face you, and you move closer to be more comfortable. With his clawed hands still holding your arm delicately, he brings your palm to his lips. You feel his hot breath against your skin and instinctively flex your hand. He stops abruptly and looks at you.

"I-I'm fine, just do it already!" He rolls his eyes and positions his fangs right at the pulse point on your wrist. With a deep breath from both of you, he sinks his teeth into your flesh. The skin is thin there, so it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be.

It's awkward for a moment, you don't feel any different at first. But looking towards Lucifer, you see his eyes turning that glowing crimson red that had startled you when you first met. Sure, it still startled you now, but it was Lucifer. He's not as scary as he looks, you tell yourself. You feel a breath of hot air from his nostrils, realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. His eyes fluttered shut, and that's when you felt it.

It felt like getting your blood drawn, but his fangs were less painful than the needles somehow. You'd only notice your hand start to fall asleep after a while. But his expression stopped you from saying anything. His heavy breaths against your skin, as he occasionally pulled away to lick the wound clean, only to sink his teeth back in the same spot. You placed your free hand over your mouth to prevent any noises from escaping your lips. He pulled off for a moment, then sunk his teeth in another spot, feverishly placing multiple bite marks across the entirety of your wrist. You attempt to speak up through your hand.

"L-Lucifer.. I-I'm..!" He stops almost immediately, sitting up straight and blinking his eyes back to their usual hue. He looks down to your wrist, a mess of bite marks, all still leaking your crimson blood. Your hand had fallen slack.

"Sorry! Sorry-" He runs his tongue across the wounds, it seemed to stop the blood for now. "How do you feel?" Your eyes are dazed a bit, and when you go to prop yourself up on your previously ravished wrist you fall forward. He catches you by your arms, before you can fall away from the bed. You shake your head, finally looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

"I'm okay.." you say weakly. He's nervously trying to keep your head up, and brushing hair away from your face. He moves to the other side of the bed, and brings you along to lie down beside him. He sits on his knees to examine you, keeping a hand cupping your cheek. It's cool to the touch again, a relief for you. You shakily place your hand on top of his, then look towards him. "You look amazing, Lucifer~" You say with a dizzy smile. Despite the wording, you were right. His skin had brightened up, and he instantly lost the bags from his eyes.

"I might've done too much.." He mumbled, tracing his free hand across your wrist. "You're starting to sound crazy."

"No..! I mean it, you're just.. beautiful.. quite a sight." You're delirious. He starts to worry, suppressing his excitement for the oncoming compliments. He'll have to let you rest, no matter how disappointed that made him. He'd missed your company these past few days.

"Whatever you say, darling. Go ahead and rest, I'll get you some water." And he does just that.

You had left some water bottles and snacks here a few months ago, so he hastily took those and brought them back to you. He set everything on the nightstand and went over to open the glass doors to the balcony of his room, bringing in a fresh night breeze. He put an actual shirt on, finally, on the way to look over you from the side of the bed.

You were just sitting up, leaning against the headboard as you took a very needed gulp of water.

"So? How did I taste?" You tease, stretching your hand now that you’re regaining feeling.

"Delicious." He sounds flirtatious but almost serious. It has you blushing.

Lucifer had gone off to work on something after you insisted you'd be fine and just needed a few more minutes of rest. That didn't go how you expected. You came here to set some boundaries and here you are in his bed, covered in bite marks. The implications alone made you groan from embarrassment. And slightly in disbelief. You huff and attempt to stand, it’s not too bad, then move to the balcony and lean against the railing. The breeze ran through your hair and across your heated face, you let out a sigh of relief.

"Feeling better, dear?" His voice has you turning your head a bit, and you greet him with a smile. You nod your head before returning your eyes to the town below.

“I’m glad. Thank you, for.. Letting me do that.” He says, sounding a bit shy. He joins you, leaning against the railing by your side. You both stand in silence for a moment.

"I think I'm in love with you, Lucifer." Maybe it was the blood loss or the sheer exhaustion, but something just forced those words from you. You keep your eyes away from him. If this could be the last time you see him, bringing this dream to an end, then you might as well let it out.

"O-Oh..! Hm! Well, that's uh.." He hoots, and you see his hands flexing against the railing. He can't even form a real response.

"It's stupid, I know. I'm a human, and you're this crazy immortal being. Plus, you just drank my blood. Maybe I'm still delirious.." You continue to toy with your gifted necklace, still keeping your eyes low. You don't know how you would react if you could see his expression right now.

"So.. you would... you want to be with me?" That's what he asks? That's his response?

"I-I mean.. yeah. You're my best friend, you're handsome and smart, and you're inventive and... I just love being around you. I want to.. I want to make you happy, but I just don't know if that's something I can do." Your gaze is finally brought to his when his claws gently guide your chin towards him. His expression is that of pure infatuation. You'd never expect to see him look like this, not when looking at you.

"You make me plenty happy, darling." Your eyes go wide.

"You're bright and fun, and you're adorably curious- I just worry as well. I'll outlive you. I've been locked up here for so long, I don't know how much I can offer you.. but it's definitely less than you deserve." His words send a pain to your chest. You both know, based on fact alone, it just wouldn't work.

"I only want you to be happy as well, love." His words force a nervous sigh from you. This seems like a night for bold decisions, so you decide to make another. You turn to face him, bring him in by his collar, and press your lips against his in one fell swoop. Giving him no time to comprehend the situation, he lets out a muffled exclamation into your lips. It felt like hours before you feel his hands on your waist, and his lips desperately ravishing yours. He pulls you closer to him, his hands now reaching your hips and gripping you tighter. You pull his lower lip down with your thumb, keeping a hand on his jaw as you do so, and begin to explore his mouth with your tongue feverishly. A small yelp at the boldness comes from Lucifer before his forked tongue is dancing with yours. You can still taste your own blood on his lips.

He turns the both of you, having your back pressed against the railing of the balcony, giving him the chance to corner you into being as close as possible. He leans his chest into yours, moving in even more. You're leaning over the railing just slightly, but one of his hands is firmly planted against your back, giving you a sense of security. The other is still gripping at your hips, occasionally slipping upwards to brush the bare skin beneath your top, his cool touch acting as a reminder that this is really happening. He props his knee between your legs, having to force them apart gently to do so.

You pull away with a deep exhale after realizing you've been anxiously holding your breath this whole time. Even leaning away from him, your mind was running rapidly with thoughts of his body. You trace your thumb over his lips, parting them just slightly to examine his fangs. He's turning red with the close inspection.

"W-What are you doing..?" You understand what he's trying to say, but his words are still muffled by your hold on him. He sees your eyes ponder for a moment before you look back to him.

"Bite me." You say sternly. Your hand slips away from his mouth and you start speckling small kisses across his forehead and cheeks, lifting his head slightly with a kiss to his jaw.

"Excuse me?? You want-" You hush his stammering by pulling back, to look into his eyes one more time.

"I want you to bite me.. my neck, I mean." You clearly weren't budging. He still seems hesitant but proceeds to move any hair away from your shoulder

"What, does someone enjoy being bitten?” He asks in a teasing tone, looking at you with a smirk. With a deadpan expression, your eyes brimming with lust, you take a hold of his collar again and pull him into a messy kiss. When you pull back, you see a dazed Lucifer, struggling to keep eye contact.

“Yes.”

He huffs, completely enthralled in your enthusiasm, but still seeming nervous. He pulls the strap to your shirt to the side, examining your collarbone and neck. You hear him gulp, as he runs his hand upward until it’s cradling the back of your head.

“I tend to lose myself a little. You saw what happened before, are you sure-"

"I'm sure. I'll tell you if you have to stop." Still very adamant about it, Lucifer pulls your head to one side as you keep your grip on his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists with anticipation.

He places a small kiss first, the action causing you to flinch slightly. You feel him smile on your neck, clearly enjoying your reaction. He kisses every inch of you, each one becoming sloppier than the last.

After thoroughly leaving you in a dazed state of affection, he traces his face to the softest part of your neck, just above your collarbone, and quickly snaps through the skin. With a startled yelp, you glide your hand upward until you've taken a tight grip onto his hair. You barely have time to appreciate how soft it is before you feel the sensation of his fangs piercing a different spot of flesh.

He doesn't seem to be taking much blood.. Definitely not as much as before and not as quickly. It's leaving your head slightly fuzzy, making any sensations, any marks he's leaving on your body, blur into an overall bliss. You're thoughtlessly letting out little moans and gasps at each bite, only encouraging him to keep it up. You feel the vibrations of his groaning against your skin as he moves to hold you tightly around your waist. After a few moments, you start to feel a bit woozy, your body completely melting into his touch. You tap his shoulder quickly,

"Ah.. Lucifer-" Just as before, he made sure to clean any wounds that were still dripping with blood, but he went on to embellish each one with a kiss before pulling away. He looks at you with concern, cupping your cheek and bracing the weight of your lulling head. You smile and hum into his palm.

"How are you doing, darling?" He actively inspects your entirety before meeting your eyes again.

"Lovely~" You say with a drunken chuckle. He pulls you in for another kiss, before easily scooping you up.

"Alright, then.. let's get you to bed, you little perv.” You hit his chest to the best of your ability in your weakened state. His laughter is music to your ears. You’re too tired to worry about how this will affect your relationship. Or your physical health for that matter. But for now, nothing has felt more comforting than his arms wrapped around your body, the cold soothing the heated moment, and your dizzy mind.

♡♡♡

!Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest )

#RIP coming up with a good title #hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer hazbin #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x you #lucifer x you smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader

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mercurygray · 2 days

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Hey, maybe you want or need to take a week off from fannish writing, for whatever reason. Maybe you are out of creative battery. Maybe you are feeling disconnected from others. Maybe you are feeling disconnected from yourself.

Read other people's stuff. Remember that you're a part of a community, and participation looks like a lot of different things.

Practice commenting. If it helps, do this in a fandom you don't create for, so there's no stakes to get this person to read back. Just do it for the sheer joy of knowing you will be making someone's day with these comments. Be generous and genuine with your praise.

Post what you've already got on ao3 or update what's already there.

Watch a movie. Watch two.

Read a book related to the project you're working on.

Read a book that's totally unrelated to the project you're working on.

Reach out to people who have commented and just say thank you for commenting.

Have a conversation with someone new. (If you're lucky, you can do this one and the previous one at the same time!)

Assess the state of your work in progress folder. What sparks joy? What feels like a chore? Set aside the chores and give yourself some time to think about (but not act on!) what's joy-making.

Take a walk. Pet a dog. Admire flowers.

#the care and feeding of your friendly writer

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irlrikomoriyama · 2 days

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🗣️ (also sorry this got long, turns out i have thoughts) so like riko is one of the weirdest fandom cases i've ever seen. i've been in fandoms where characters who commit actual war crimes and genocide are badass babes or uwu soft bois, and even spoiled mafia brats who commit terrible crimes against the heroes for daddy's attention that get love and redemption. it's so weird to see just how isolated from all that riko is to me.

i do think it's partly how aftg is written, and that's also partly because niel's pov is not at all forgiving of riko, while is entirely forgiving of people like andrew. but i also think it's because of how riko himself is written. he's one of these characters that's better on paper than he is in the book to me. because he's never presented as smart enough to fall into the magnificent bastard trope where everyone applauds how devious his plans are, but he's not outright hammy enough to just be a fun read, he doesn't even get the same stupidly dramatic flare as andrew. and while we're told he's powerful and doing dangerous stuff, he's presented on page, more often than not, as a petulant child that neil is just done with or a guy who likes to torture people who neil is also done with. neil is never actually scared of riko, or even particularly threatened by him, and i think that hurts him and makes his position in the narrative weaker. especially when nora is trying to play him as a villain and a threat in a mafia story rather than a good old fashioned rival in a sports drama. for example, his first impression on the kathy show should live up to the hype of this imposing charismatic villain who broke kevin's hand, but instead loses him temper, forgets all of his media training and lets a nobody like neil goad him into losing control of the interview, and then his payback, things like shoving neil around and seth's death, are basically brushed off because neil doesn't really care that much. it's not given the weight to be a seriously omg this guys a threat first impression. and this isn't uncommon, lots of media hamstrings their villains at the start by making sure we know the main character is too sassy for them and can humiliate them, without thinking about how weak that can make the villain seem. it feels sometimes like nora wanted riko to be this chess master villain or tragic child who's lashing out at the world, without committing to it fully to either, or was just not an experienced enough writer to have known how to write either of those things in the pov of someone who hates riko's guts, which is understandable, writing is hard and that sort of nuance takes practice, especially if you just go by the books and not the extra content, and i do wonder how differently nora would have portrayed riko if she rewrote the main trilogy now with presumably a lot more practice under her belt. in the end riko ends up in this weird grey area to me where i understand why he's not popular, given he has none of the usual obvious traits that fans like to latch onto when redeeming a villainous character, and even the ones that are there are glossed over pretty quickly because of neil's pov, and a lot of his more interesting pieces are on paper not actively presented in the book, and not everyone reads super deep, but i also don't understand the amount of hate. i have literally never seen a character in any other fandom i've been in have this much fandom wide hatred.

See I have nothing to add here because you single handedly dropped the best analysis of Riko's character in the series I had pleasure to read so far and summed up all my feelings about why and what of the fandom. If the goal was to write a character that is impactful yet easy to hate then that goal was achieved but for me it real takes away form the magnitude of feelings Riko could evoke in reader and questions he could provoke in narrative if he was given bit different presentation that woudl still align with the lore we already have.

#aftg #riko moriyama #all for the game #tsc #the sunshine court #reference #villains in media #writing

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lokorum · 2 days

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Hi, I have been following you for some time and just read you also have cats. Can we see them or can you tell us about them? I love seeing people's cats but can't have any since I'm allergic.

oh gosh, this is like the ultimate-nicest-ask any person could ever recieve and i still made you wait for the reply, im so so sorry!! classic case of unlucky timing happend - your ask came on the next day after one of our cats had to be put down through euthanasia. im only now feeling like talking about her, hope you'll understand <3

also warning: someone here is obsessed with their cats so prepare yourself for a lot of pictures!!!

so this is her, our obachan that was somewhere around 16-17 yo at the moment of her death (no one knows how old she was for sure, and we called her a necromant bc doctors predicted her death like 10 times and she lived and lived and lived. our friend said that everytime death came for her she just stared at it with her unblinking eyes, forcing it to leave lskdjflkdsjf)

near the end of her life she had no teeth, progressing cancer, brain tumor that caused epilepsia but she still was the god's smallest gremlin, (and the most adorable too) creating havoc everywhere she went

the other cat that we adopted is this little goofball

she literally found us on the street near our home back in ulan ude and just followed us there asking food. she was our neighboors cat, but they left her behind after moving, saying some bullshit like they coudnt catch her (while she was activelly asking to be held when she came to us. she was pregnant too, and very, very anxious)

she is the most shy cat i ever met; text book wall-flower, but now after almost 5 years together she is much more brave!! tho she still scared of blankets and towels for the reasons that makes want to return back to uu and violently kill her previous family

also can anyone tell me what is this

and heres our first cat and the only one we havent adopted from the street but from a different family!! she is the youngest and the cheekiest little seagle that loves to terrorize everyone and since she is very very cute - she gets away with it every time

she also is notoriously hard to catch in a photo, and when we finally able to - she is just chilling in the most bizzare places like in the freezer

on the toilet cistern

on the computer box

on the bysicle seat

inside the drawer inside the box

on the bench

inside the cat bag

i found one (1) picture of her in the bed and it looks like this

like almost anyone who has cat family member - i could talk about their little habbits for hours but i think what i already said is too much so im putting myself on the leash here lkjsdflkjasjd thank you so much for listen to my rumblings!!! i cant deny it feels kinda healing to talk about all of them now and that happened thanks to you @dabenport so sending you a lot of hugs!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ also i have allergy on cats psldkf;sdkf;lkd;lf so i hope that maybe one day you'll be able to find less allergic cat friends to share your life with!!! im sneezing a lot but its worth it

#cats #ask #long post

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expectopatronum81 · 3 days

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I feel like Narcissa Malfoy is rather overhyped(when she isn't being forgotten completely) as a character. She is the perfect example of 'the aristocratic wife' until the real world hits her in the face (and even then it takes a while).

Coz in the books she doesn't do shit. We have no indication that she has any sort of job(not that she'd need one). You could say she raised Draco but I don't count that because she did such a bad job at it; Draco turned out to be a spoilt, entitled bully (tho ofc Lucius equally shares the blame for this). She was pretty, came from money and a respectable family, and had no real valuable contribution of her own (unlike bellatrix who had the first 2 things too but was voldemort's right hand DE). Lucius has a constant presence in the books, we see different ways in which he subtly exercises his power and influence (ranging from donations to cozy up to fudge to threatening the other board governors that he'll curse their families if the don't remove dumbledore from the position of headmaster), plus his whole arc from one of voldemort's most trusted DEs (he was entrusted with a horcrux) to the pathetic situation we see him in in DH. Narcissa, however, has nothing of this sort. She's briefly introduced during the Qudditch world cup, not mentioned at all in book 5, and is an absolute dumbass in book 6.

Ik tht last one is controversial, but i was with bellatrix the whole time, coming to snape was fucking stupid. I get tht she thought he was on their side, especially considering he was with the DEs during the first war too, but y tf would u trust a double agent? Him convincingly answering all of bellatrix's questions means nothing, its obvious that he'll hv similarly tailored answers for dumbledore. I get that she was terrified and desperate, but it always struck me as odd that she never volunteered to take her 16 y/o son's place to get the task done (or at least we don't get any mention of this, and at any rate i don't think voldy wud hv oblidged considering this was punishment for lucius's failures), or if she already knew that this wasn't a viable option, she doesn't even try to help him out herself. Instead she runs straight to snape and weeps on his floor. This is so unlike, say, lily, who stood in btw her baby boy and voldemort. Mind u, the whole thing worked out only because dumbledore put on the ring and was going to die in a yr, she got lucky( imo this is lyk remus getting lucky with keeping sirius being an animagus as a secret coz he didn't turn out to be a mass murderer after all). U couldn't even say she was using snape too because she's clearly too distraught in tht scene to be doing any kind of manipulation. It all falls on the shoulder of her 16 y/o son to keep his family safe from voldemort.

She doesn't do anything throughout book 7 until the very end, where she lies to voldemort just to know if her son's alive or not, which inadvertently leads to voldemort being defeated by harry. This is only thing of substance she does in the entire series(and likewise i ll give her the credit, it was ballsy asf). As much as i appreciate her for what she did in the end, i think the fact that it took her roughly 40 years to do something of value is heavily ignored.

#harry potter #narcissa malfoy #lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #the malfoys #severus snape #voldemort #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa black #hp ladies #hp meta #aristocracy #pureblood society #death eaters

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violetasteracademic · 17 hours

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So, while I am a passionate Elriel and my experience is only further cemented with each new detail on every re-read, I have still stated since day one that I still love Lucien and Gwyn! My first ever Tumblr post was a dissertation on Lucien for goodness sake!

And this is where I struggle. I don't personally lurk in anti posts, but they make their way to my eyeballs anyways. And my problem is that myself, and many Elriel's I know, still love all the characters and honor and fully believe they will have their own stories, potentially their own POVs in future books or at the very least play a large role in ACOTAR or the multiverse.

But the a/ti Elriel's, from what I've seen, are almost ALWAYS a/ti Elain. I won't bother going over the comments I get on tiktok from E/ucien shippers that claim they like Elain. They erase her. They misunderstand her. They minimize her. They sideline her. They invent villain storylines. And still ship her with their favorite male character? Just because they want *him* to have his mate. And Azriel is apparently bio hazard waste in all areas of life EXCEPT if he decides to go after Gwyn. Whereas I like Azriel as he is, and I like who he currently wants to be with.

The author, I am certain, also likes these characters. She wrote them. It's difficult to believe her intention was for the fans to turn on Azriel just because a reveal many of us saw coming (that he is down bad for Elain) happened.

I don't have to erase Gwyn from the narrative, or distort her interactions with Azriel, minimize Gwyn's importance, create a shitty personality for her or invent a new storyline to make Elriel make sense.

I don't have to erase Lucien from the narrative, distort his interactions with Elain, call him toxic, minimize his importance, or invent a new storyline for Elriel to make sense.

I personally can't wait to see what Lucien and Gwyn are going to bring to the story. But by and large, I mostly see Gwyn as being a sidekick to Azriel and Nesta instead of the lead of her own story or Elain as a sidekick to the Band of Exiles instead of the lead of her own story for G/ynriel and E/ucien theories to come together. Beyond that, I'd love to look into their stories more, but I'm tired of assaulting my eyeballs with all the toxic sludge about pelvises and pure hatred from Elain festering in those spaces.

So I'll say it again and I'll say it a million times, just because Azriel and Elain want each other and not Lucien and Gwyn does NOT mean I think Lucien and Gwyn are trash. I just want the characters who want each other to be together. If it were written differently, I would feel differently. And if antis would at least address that Azriel and Elain WANT each other instead of trying to explain away their behavior and invent false intentions and narratives, I'd have a lot more fun reading and exploring their theories.

I'm an Elain girl first and foremost. And I want her to have what she wants. As of right now, today, waking up in Prythian, that is Azriel. That is the only thing on page. Anything else is speculation or theorizing. Azriel and Elain wanting each other is not a theory. It's real. Erasing it is not only bizarre, but makes any statement coming after it really not credible.

I ship a ton of non canon couples in other fandoms. Many of them never came to pass. It's just for fun. But because the hatred for Elain is so visceral, and the desire to erase her character from existence is so real, these ships are not fun. And I genuinely wish they were.

The awful bullying and atrocious behavior and weird hatred for the books and characters in this fandom gets me down some days. Sorry for the wallowing. Love you all 😘

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #elriel endgame #elriel supremacy

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demetris-cocksleeve · 3 days

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Alright, here me out. CollageStoner!Sero and bookworm!reader having grown close and blah blah blah he's casually smoking while yn is reading, but she's reading a spicy book and the main Male character has a Jacob's ladder and now, she's straight up curious as to how sex would work/feel with that piercing, and how convenient is it that Sero just happens to have said piercing 🤔

(A/n: You're speaking my language, Anon)

(Sorry for the delay; this was supposed to be out the other night but tumblr decided to play with my feelings and sap my inspiration to write...)

(Not proofread)

@bigboomboi @neon-gothicc

Word Count: 3,078

Summary- It helps that you have *such* a helpful best friend.

Warnings: Weed, Non-established Relationship, We believe in Hispanic Sero in this household (<- not warnings, it was just funny that it was "Warnings: Weed")

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Stoner! Sero x Fem! Reader: College Experimentation

-----------------------------

You lounge against your bed, book in hand as Sero reclines against your pillows, joint in hand as he scrolls on his phone; there a haze of smoke filling the room, giving you a buzz. Neither of you speak, but it's a comfortable silence.

Your eyes dart across the pages as the main character's love interest backs her into a wall, his hand snaking its way to the hem of her shirt, his fingers dancing across the soft skin of her waist.

It's not until her hand is down his pants, tracing his length before coming to a stop at the feel of solid metal barbells that your head cocks to the side and you let out a soft, "huh…"

Sero glances up at the noise, peering over the mattress at your hunched over form. "Care to share, princessa?"

You blink, head shooting up with wide eyes as you quickly snap the book shut. Your head feels sick from the sudden movement; the secondhand high urging you to get your movements under control. "It's nothing."

Your cheeks burn as you try to gauge whether or not he was reading over your shoulder.

"Nothing, huh?" He braces his weight on his forearms so he can lean closer, the smoke of his joint curling around as your breaths disturb the air between you. "Then why did you close the book without this?" He holds your book mark up with two fingers, twirling it between his fingers before letting it flutter back down to the floor next to you.

"…" You're silent for a beat before you manage to mutter out, "I DNF'd it."

"You DNF'd it? After ranting to me just an hour ago about how much you loved it?"

He raises a brow at you. "C'mon, babes," you inhale sharply at the nickname, "When have I ever judged you for the dirty shit you read?"

He has a point, you regularly rant to him about the raunchy scenes in your books; why does it feel so different now that he's approaching you about it?

You meet his gaze before sighing in defeat. "Fine… Fine! You win."

"Her love interest has his dick pierced and I was just thinking about what that would even feel like - surely that would be uncomfortable to for the partner, right?" It's a metal bar rubbing against some of the most sensitive skin on the body, it has to rip at you and hurt, there's no way it doesn't.

Staring at you, a slow smirk grows on Sero's face as he thinks about something.

With a huff you start to turn away, "See? You're judg-" "Want to find out?"

"What?" You blink, freezing in place.

"I said -" he takes a drag before dropping down enough that your noses almost touch. He grips your jaw in a steady hand to gently press his fingers into your cheeks to pry your lips open; he exhales it slowly from his mouth, forcing you to shotgun the smoke. "- It's your lucky day. Do you want to find out?"

He leans back up, propping himself against your pillows again with a hand behind his head, ever the picture of tranquility. He lets one bent leg fall to the side, showcasing the bulge in his sweats, extra bumps adorn the side of the print that you can see and your mind finally puts two and two together.

"You have it?" You ask, twisting your body to face him. "Why did I not know this?"

"You want updates on my dick?" He teases. "Okay, fine: update numero uno - I'm hard and would like to do something about it. Update dos - you're curious and can do something about it; let's solve each other's problem, yeah?"

Staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, you think it over.

On the one hand, you have been friends with Hanta long enough that he's seen you naked, so you know it wouldn't be that awkward - hell, you're lounging in just an oversized tee and underwear and it's been fine all night; on the other, though, this could break the easy-going friendship you've built.

"Any day now, princessa. I won't be offended if you say 'no'."

You know he's not lying; you've turned him down before - a very drunken night during hazing week - and he has never once made it awkward…

Deciding Schrodinger can suck it, you make your move. This cat is alive and is going to stay that way.

"Okay," you say, getting up to join him on the bed.

He places the joint between hip lips before reaching to pull you into his lap. "Atta girl…" He murmurs, eyes already lidded as his hand slide up your shirt to trace your sides.

He rolls his hips up and you can feel the multiple metal balls drag against you even through the fabric separating you.

"You sure it won't hurt?"

"Haven't had a girl complain yet," Sero smirks, pulling the joint from his lips and holding it to yours. "Take a hit and relax, Amor, I'll take care of you."

The smoke curls in your lungs as you take his offer. You hold it until you feel a cough coming before exhaling. The effects don't hit yet, but the forced deep breath settles you.

Feeling a bit more confident, you rock your own hips down, letting out a sigh at the friction.

"Do you have a condom?" You ask, bracing your hands on his stomach as you grind down harder. His head is leaned back, watching you dry hump him with blown pupils.

"Backpack, smallest pocket on the front," he instructs.

You quickly climb off of him, and lean off of the bed to find it. "You just keep these with you?" You tease, pulling out a sleeve of at least 7.

"Complaining?" Hanta asks with a lazy smile, dropping the roach into an empty soda can on your nightstand.

"No," You rip one off the end and make your way back to him, tossing it at him when close enough. "But I do think you're a whore, now." He hooks his thumbs under his waistband, ignoring your jab as he shimmies them down with his boxers until he can kick them off the bed, his shirt coming next. He brings the packet up to his mouth to rip the foil open with his teeth.

Just before he rolls the condom on, he glances at you, "You gonna strip or am I supposed to just rip your panties off?"

But you're not even listening to him, too busy taking in the nine neatly spaced bars that peak out from the underside of his penis. Just wide enough for the ball screws to be visible from the top.

"Impressive, right?" He jokes. You nod, breathing out a 'yeah' as you step closer. Kneeling on the bed, you reach out to touch the metal but stop just before you make contact.

"Can I?" You look up at him, hand hovering.

Hanta simply grabs your wrist, "I'm about to fuck you and you're asking if it's okay to touch my dick? Go for it, sweetness."

With that, he drags your hand closer until your fingertips graze him; he lets go so you can explore. You close your hand around him, running it up the length loosely, feeling how the bars gently shift with each pass. Sero's breathing gets heavier when you trace the bottom of his cock with your fingertip, feeling the little ridges of the metal beneath the skin.

You rotate one of the barbells to see how snug they are and suddenly he's yanking your hand away, startling you out of your stupor.

He quickly rolls the almost-forgotten condom on and pushes into you in one go.

Thinking you hurt him, you rush to apologize but he's flipping you onto your back before you can even start. "Fucking tease…" he growls out, eyes dark as he stares down at your shocked form.

Hanta yanks your panties down your legs, barely stopping to admire the silvery strings that connect your cunt to the cotton before they snap. As soon as the offending material is across the room, he's all but ripping your shirt off as you laugh at his impatience.

"Ah, fuck, you asshole!" You yelp, cutting off mid-laugh and shifting your hips to accommodate the intrusion.

"What are you gonna do about it?" He pulls back just enough to slam his cock into you, causing you to grip at his arms as you loose a strangled moan. "Nothing? That's what I thought," He smirks, sitting back to properly see you as he starts thrusting.

You can feel the solidity of the barbells pressing into your sensitive walls. It's a bit odd at first, but as he moves, the drag starts to become addictive; the thick bars adding a ridged texture even through the latex that has you basically panting under him, craving more and more of the delicious feeling.

"Feel good?" He teases. When you nod, he hums, "Told ya so~"

"Shuddup," you grumble.

It's when one of the bars catches and harshly drags against you as it snaps back into place that your eyes are rolling back and your back is arching, the most pornographic noise dripping from you as you shudder. Hanta freezes above you, face scrunching up as he lets out an animalistic growl that shoots straight to your cunt. "Fucking hell…"

"I-I'm sorry…" You don't know what caused the tug, but if you had to guess, it was probably from the way you're cunt is clenching around him, unforgiving.

"Don't be, I'm good" he huffs, recovering enough to resume his pace. "Just- try to relax, yeah? Can't fuck you if my dick's ripped." His joke isn't enough to ease your concern, though, and you shift a bit with uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" Your worry is taken out on your bottom lip until his thumb gently pulls it from your teeth.

"I wouldn't still be inside you if I wasn't," Sero reaches his other hand down to trace firm circles on your clit, "now c'mon, sweetness, relax for me so I can fuck this pretty pussy like it deserves."

"God-" You gasp, "-Stop.. *doing* that!"

Your hips jerk up despite your words, chasing the tantalizing pressure of his thumb as it continues to trace the bud. Tingles shoot through you almost painfully as you start to all but hump his hand and you swear you don't mean to knee him in the hip when he lightly pinches your clit. The muscles in your stomach start to tighten as your cunt pulses out a wave of arousal. The wet noises of his cock sliding home again and again echo with the roaring in your ears around your skull, creating a deafening crescendo.

You vaguely hear him growl out a "That's it- Open up for me..."

You're not sure when you loosened around him, but his thrusts have become fast and rough, crashing with a loud *slap* against your ass as your bed frame slams against the wall. You briefly think about the fact that your neighbor is definitely going to be filing a complaint against you with the Dean, but you can deal with that later, you decide.

"God, look at you, taking me so well, my pretty, pretty princessa..." He murmurs, nosing at your jaw. "Doing such a good job for me; taking this cick like you were made for it."

The pleasure fogs your rationale and with the added haze of the pot, you're uttering words you'll definitely regret in the morning.

"Kiss me," you gasp out, reaching for Hanta. This is supposed to be an impersonal fuck, but oh well; he's looking too good, hovering over you with that damn-near feral look in his eyes as he drinks in the way your pussy all but drags his cock back inside with each drive of his hips. Consequences be damned, you want his mouth on yours.

He apparently feels the same if the way he all but dives to slam his lips against yours in a frenzied, messy kiss. His tongue bullies its way into your mouth to tangle with yours, easily winning dominance and eagerly exploring its new terrain - tasting you thoroughly for all you have to offer.

Your head spins at the multiple sensations bombarding you.

HIs hand is still shoved between you, working you in a way that makes you feel like you're floating, slipping every closer to release. the cloud fogging your mind is the only thing keeping you from tipping over the edge - time feels like it's slowed down just so the two of you can savor this for all it's worth and you can't tell if you're thankful or if you want to scream in frustration. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you want to live under him, stuck being his dumb little cocksleeve, especially with the way his piercings are caressing you in all the right places. Just when you think it can't feel any better than it does, one digs just a tad harder into you and it makes you reel, convinced you're going to go insane.

There's no way a couple pieces of steel are amplifying your pleasure this much - you refuse to believe it.

But believing or not, Hanta still has you writhing under him with your nails digging track down the smooth planes of his back. You're sure you've drawn blood on at least a couple of passes, but if he feels it, he doesn't let on.

Finally pulling away, you greedily suck in a lungful of oxygen, cursing when it makes your vision swim with black and purple spots.

God you're so close. You're so so close and - oh!

'Oh, that's deep...' you think, stunned at the way he reaches impossibly deeper into your soaked cunt when he tosses your leg over his shoulder. Hanta stretches you to your max as he dips down to suck marks into the column of your neck, his free hand stops holding him up as he drags it to your throat, angling your head to the side so he can suck and bite on more of the delicate skin. His weight presses you into the mattress as he stops rubbing on your clit in favor of gripping your hip and dragging you down with each roll of his hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust.

"Hanta-" You whine out, chest heaving from exertion. "I'm, oh god, I'm close... Hanta, please- Please, I wanna cum!"

You know you sound like a cock-drunk whore, but if that's what it takes to finally cream all over his godly cock, so be it.

"Yeah?" He pants, a drop of sweat rolling down the sharp angle of his jaw. It lingers for a second before dripping onto your chest; it rolls down your sternum, curving around the mound of your breast. "Then cum for me, sweetness. Let me see how good this dick is making you feel." His voice is gravelly as he holds your gaze.

You try to look away if only for your own sanity, but he slips his hand up, holding you in place. "Eyes on me, baby..."

It's all way too much, way too fast and you can feel yourself spiraling - the devastating pace of his thrusts, the almost harsh grip he has on your jaw, the intensity with which he watches your every reaction. You can feel the high coming. You can feel yourself becoming Icarus, but unlike he, you're so ready for the crash; almost begging for your waxed wings to melt so you can feel the rush of the fall.

The sun blazes, getting hotter and hotter; you can feel the scorching rays beat down on you as the hot wax starts to drip, burning into your flesh as you reach the extent of your high. And all at once, your wings break apart and the roaring sea rages in your ears as you cum.

"Oh fuck..." You rasp as your nails dig even deeper into his skin, finally drawing a hiss of pain from Hanta.

"That's it, sweetness, there's a good girl..." He grunts out between clenched teeth as you clamp down in him in a vice. "God-" he growls, hips frantically thrusting into you as he chases his own high; he finds it not long after, burying his cock into you as he fills the condom with his spend.

His head hangs between his shoulders as you both catch your breath. "Fuck, you feel so good, babes," He huffs after a while; looking up at you through his damp bangs, he gives you a shit-eating smirk, "Might have to do this more often~"

"Don't go falling for me just yet, Sero" You chuff with no venom, staring at your ceiling as your heart calms down.

He starts to pull out of you, causing you to hiss at the sudden emptiness. Hanta removes the condom, tying it off and just barely making it when he shoots it at your deskside trashcan.

"One sec," he says, getting off the bed with a soft grunt and heading to your bathroom. After a bit of rummaging and the sound of your sink running, he slips back towards you with a damp wash cloth in hand. "I'mma need you to spread those sexy-ass legs for me one more time, Princessa." He only laughs when you chuck a pillow at him, gripping your ankles to drag you down the bed and spreading them himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm oh-so awful and your new nemesis," Hanta mumbles at your protests, lightly wiping away the sweat and cum from between your thighs. "Betcha feel better now, though." He tosses the cloth at your face, making you let out an indignant scream.

He can't help but cackle at your reaction, head tossing back as his deep rumble echos through the room. "It's your own fluids??" He lets out his own screech when you chuck it as his own face. "Now that's just nasty!" He tries to dodge it, laughing. It lands on the ground with a wet thud and he finally climbs back onto your bed - well, he jumps over you, landing on his back before dragging you into his side.

"You never answered me about doin' this again," he mumbles into your hair, chuckling at your answering chest smack.

"...definitely..."

#hanta sero x reader #sero hanta smut #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x reader smut #stoner sero #hanta sero #sero x reader #sero hanta #sero hanta fluff

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lorkonsghost · 1 day

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another post okay giant Jason relationship with the bat family.

Dick Grayson/nightwing

Talks about as decent brother when around other,

Dick

when they talk about jason like he's a baby a big angry baby who can do no wrong and everyone thinks he's crazy since Jason is easily the scariest thing they ever met

Bruce

it's similar to Canon but Bruce is more active in trying help get along with him and the family since Bruce thinks fighting as he has is enough.

Cass use Jason as a jumping off spot when they fight together it pisses Jason off but Cass doesn't care also Cass as shortest BatFam after Damien is not a fan of fighting Jason since if she gets grabbed its game over so when she fought Jason she was playing defensive in this au

Tim if titans tower happens is terrified of Jason for how easily he was beat tossed around like a rag doll in this au and but when gets over his fear their probably the closest siblings.

Tim if titans tower doesn't happen he is Jason number one defender simply because a few dead or fight Jason again is easy decision in his book like he remembers when in this au when Jason was fighting multiple bat at a time every week like it was nothing and he would rather not.

Steph has the most fun teaming with Jason since that means the brick house can take on most fodder no problem so the only real problem are big bads and they have craziest prank wars

Duke is weird since dc wants nothing with him at all. Though I think he has the most potential character growth in dc comics along side Cass and Jason of course if dc gave a shit about any of them dukes powers are so intriguing and dc does nothing with him sorry mini tangent but him Jason would be bound over being protectors of the daylight and crime ally respectfully

Babs is a weird character in general when it comes to Jason but I feel like though in this au she had the hardest time accepting Jason was red hood because while Bruce was in thick of it so he had to face it more directly and dick was just glad he could finally make with up Jason. Babs was watching from sidelines and the difference between kid Jason and adult Jason can give you whiplash but that sweet little boy is now bigger than a brick house a kills people so yeah although she helps Jason the most when she comes to accept that their the same Jason

Damian respect for Jason is a lot since he easily one scariest fighters on earth all though you could argue certain people are better and more skilled fighters but Jason used his powerful build with all skills he's learned over the years let's Damian a certain respect for him

Honorable mentions

Talia al-ghul / Ra's al ghul

Are terrified of Jason if he finds out how much of the truth they manipulated so he could attack Bruce because if Batman needs back up then so they

Short king dick au

That's his baby brother godamit he doesn't care what others think

Justice league

What do you mean a human is justice league level threat Bruce what do you mean he has access to almost all of your contingencies what do you mean you can't track him Bruce what do you mean he rules most Gothams crime bruce answer us bruce

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eemamminy-art · 1 day

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You have turned me from a Zenos hater into a Zenos ambilaventer keep posting and you might manage to turn me into a Zenos lover

If you already hated him though is me drawing him really going to make that big of a difference? 😩 Like I know I give him a fat ass and extremely delicious nose in my artwork but now I feel compelled to give you my tedtalk on why I like zenos lmao

This is about to be really long and also contains spoilers for stormblood, shadowbringers, and endwalker

This might surprise you but I like Zenos for his characterization and storyline in the game itself! The fanart is just kind of a bonus. He's one of many examples in Stormblood of a character that is shaped by their experiences, though I think it's not told as successfully as it is for like, Fordola, Arenvald, or Yotsuyu, because a key part of his backstory was locked to a short story in a print-only book (which I think is out of print now). The most you see of it in the actual game is this blink and you miss it line from Lyse at the very end of 4.0:

(Dialog from the quest "Stormblood", patch 4.0)

What really, really appeals to me about Zenos though, is that he is the personification of depression and that really resonates with me. He has anything he could possibly want, he has accomplished a great many things, but he feels completely hollow inside. He's miserable. He slaughtered countless Domans including their leader and felt nothing, commanded to do it by his father because (as shown in that short story) he only ever was acknowledged to even exist to his father when he practiced violence. So it's a given now, that's what's expected of him and that's all his life is. He's completely desensitized.

He finds one thing that makes him feel alive, that is the warrior of light challenging him, and it becomes his sole focus. Nothing else matters but chasing that high, because every single other thing is a low. After being bested by the warrior of light for the very last time, faced with probably prison for his crimes, he decides to die by his own hand on that high note rather than go back to the drudgery and misery that is everything else.

It's why in endwalker he can be swayed to do something good at the very, very end. He doesn't have a moral compass because he was shaped into an attack dog by his father, he sees "righteousness" as an excuse for war. Because I mean, what else is Garlean propaganda but righteousness from their twisted perspective? He asks Jullus if he would be happier had he a good reason to kill so many garleans after killing his own father— he makes it plain that death is death and there is no justice or good or evil in his eyes. He did have a reason, and it was that his father's use of black rose would likely kill the warrior of light, the only person or thing that gave Zenos any joy in life. Later, it was that Fandaniel dangled the idea that the warrior of light would be attracted to the slaughter and would come running to stop him so he killed more people during the civil war after the emperor's death. But he doesn't need to say that that was why. The reason doesn't matter, he knows the action would not change no matter how it was justified. Even if it was a "good" reason, death is death.

(Dialog from the quest "The Time Between the Seconds", patch 4.0)

(Dialog from the quest "As the Heavens Burn", patch 6.0)

I often see people take Alisaie's part in that scene as her convincing him to be a better person but that's really not what happens. He knows if he takes that action that others perceive as good and helps to stop Endsinger, he could have that high again in facing the warrior of light one more time. He could find joy and meaning, even for a fleeting moment. Then once again end it all because he fears returning to the low monotony of life. It's all over his dialog, especially in Endwalker. The dialog at the very end where he asks the warrior of light if they feel fulfilled, I know is meant to be a bit more of a meta question toward the player themselves, but I'd like to think it's Zenos comparing how different his outlook is to the warrior of light's. The warrior of light has many things keeping them going, whereas Zenos is drowning in despair with only one bright spot that he is constantly chasing time and time again.

(Dialog from the quest "Friends Gathered", patch 6.0)

those three tiny lines can hold so much zenoswol yearning in them AAAAAAAAAAAAA I AM not well

I personally still feel like there was room for him to survive that and to be gently guided into more and more good and try to undo some of that conditioning but I think he might be too polarizing of a character for him to become a permanent ally in canon. Much as I would love to see that! I have to wonder if the mentions of him in the 6.X patches that bounced between positive and negative were testing the waters, but I will leave my tinfoil hat aside because this post is already WAY too long lmao

I understand why people dislike him: they think he enjoys murder because he does it without "a good reason", they don't like how obsessive he becomes toward the warrior of light who is an extension of the player themselves, they don't like that in Fandaniel's scheme in "in from the cold" Zenos is the one inhabiting the warrior of light's body. Totally get it, totally understand.

I'm just saying I see the complexity to him and I find it compelling. Just as I found the overwhelming grief and despair that motivated Nidhogg or Emet-selch or Elidibus to be compelling. I think what people miss though when you like an antagonist is that feeling empathy toward them means you don't feel empathy toward the people they harmed, or that you somehow agree with what they did. But really, I just love seeing these characters that are faced with such tragedy or misery that they start to lose sight of right and wrong. They're driven entirely by emotions. For a story where emotions are literally power, I think it's a really interesting angle to take with the antagonists of that story.

Man, where was I going with this? 😂 I just love Zenos... I don't think I will be convincing anyone to like him who doesn't already, and that's not at all my intent. I just thought I'd share my perspective a little bit after getting this ask!

#ffxiv #zenos yae galvus #replies #hope this all makes sense #also please don't come at me with wank or discourse about how much you hate zenos #I've heard it all before and you're not gonna convince me to hate him with wank I'll just block you lol #endwalker spoilers #long post

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absolutebl · 2 days

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Industry question for you, please: Why is it that it seems that Thai BL in particular has some really systemic issues with writing endings? Screwed-up pacing/editing, out-of-character/illogical actions, not being very satisfying... it seems like a show avoiding that fate is more of an exception than the rule, unfortunately. Do a lot of them just... not write the ending ahead of time? 😅 That would make having these sort of wacked-up endings at least make some sense, but... really, it makes *no* sense to me that that would be the actual standard writing strategy-- I mean, for example, one of the best living novel authors I know of *always* has very satisfying endings, literally without fail (I have read everything he's written and been perfectly content with the ending of every one), and the reason for that is he purposefully always writes the endings of his books *first*, then works everything back up to that point. Similarly, some of the best TV shows I've seen (from any country-- and this does actually include some Thai ones, to be fair) were written either all in one go or at the *very* least with their endings obviously already very firmly in mind, regardless of if they were completely original or were adaptations of some other source material. So... why does this often seem to be such a difficulty for the writers of Thai BL? 😅 (Sorry if I sound a little salty here, but endings either make or break all fiction for me {novels, manga/manhwa, TV, movies, games, whatever}, and I've been getting burned what seems to be more and more often lately with shows being great for the vast majority of their runtime but then inexplicably totally botching the landing, seemingly out of nowhere-- so I'm a bit frustrated with that when it seems to be a really simply-solved problem {that, indeed, has already been solved by many others before}: JUST WRITE THE DAMN ENDING *FIRST* and then work up to it? 🙃😅)

Endings huh? You a romance reader by nature? (Wait, no, you said... HE. So... Sparks? Green?) Anygay, where was I?

But yeah, I get it. I've always fancied the dessert course the most, myself.

To answer your question, not sure. I'm assuming its a narrative expectation based in culture. Like Japan and their lanes, China and 6 act structure, or Korea's adoration of love triangles. And producing culture comes to film and storytelling with its own set narrative conceits, archetypes, and tropes and aren't proscriptive but are leaned on a lot. Much as they come to film with a certain style as well.

Think about the "look" of Korean BL compared to the "look" of Taiwanese BL, for example. They have an entirely different flavor to them. Korean stuff is usually all bright and airy, lots of distance shots, super clean and uncluttered, filtered and filmy and atmospheric. Taiwanese stuff is much closer, more grainy, more bold with it's color choices and contrasts, kind-up n your face and gritty, a bit messy sometimes.

It's jarring to go from one to the other.

After watching nothing but Asian dramas for so long, I always find it jarring to go back to American shit. It feels over-acted and unsubtle and kind of brash. Over all "loud" and in my face. Jarring.

So when first encountering 4 or 6 act structure most westerners feel a little unmoored, it doesn't feel comfortable until you sink into it and leave 3 & 5 behind.

I'm mean I'm so used to K-dramas with that arbitrary year or more separation in the final episode I;m now shocked when it's not there.

I guess what I'm saying is maybe it's just a thing with Thailand, not to put that much truck in endings. The way (especially) romances do in the western world. There's a very fixed idea of what an HEA should look like in the west. Thailand may not share that idea.

I've not read the source books of any of these BLs, so I don't know if this is just their narrative style or not.

I mean there are some Thai BLs with good (if not great) endings, and plenty of Korean BLs with terrible middles, and far too many Taiwanese BLs with bad beginnings.

Ya just kinda get used to it, I guess.

15 Thai BLs with Good Endings

A Tale of Thousand Stars

Bad Buddy

Lovely Writer

2gether

Be My Favorite

Dark Blue Kiss (possibly my favorite on this list)

Destiny Seeker

Make a Wish

Naughty Babe

SOTUS

#asked and answered #sort of #stories represent culture #it;s the whole point #actually #thai bl #bad endings

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thesunloveschips · 6 hours

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 11: Through the Mating Bond

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

Chapter Summary: While Morrigan manages to distract Nyra from her distress, Azriel's desires and insecurities clash. And dinner has yet to be served.

Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual activity and Azriel's traumatic past.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Azriel's POV

Azriel sighed in relief when the Archeron twins walked in for dinner. Both of them were wearing dark blue gowns. The gold in her hair gleamed under the warm light. And with all the strength of the warrior he had honed himself to become, he restrained his gaze from moving all over her body no matter how exquisite she was. He decided her eyes were a good place to settle his gaze but he took in all of her face.

The faelights draped over her like a transparent curtain. Her eyes—those lovely blues had been draped by a golden hue. The edges of her irises darkened and like the quiet sea at sunset, they waited for the moon to eventually rise and command the tides. The mole on the right side of her face right where her cheekbone was. Lips glossed lightly and he looked again into those eyes, wishing they would look at him.

Azriel felt her confusion through the bond. He tightened the grip on his glass, knowing how much he wanted to go over there and embrace her. To see the seas in her eyes and tell her that it was going to be fine. But the shadows were already reprimanding him. She is confused. Pained.

This was wrong. He’d only wanted to meet his mate because Maia had died too young. Azriel remembered the girl who’d been born as Rhysand’s sister. After the Lady of the Night Court had given birth to her daughter, it was Azriel who had first held her. The High Lord of Night had been disappointed at the birth of a female–a feeling that evolved to awkwardness and indifference as the girl grew up.

With Morrigan to groom her into a lady befitting of her lineage, Cassian to become more of an older brother than Rhys since the latter had unknowingly become a father to his sister in the absence of the High Lord, and Azriel as her guardian from the shadows, Maia grew. And yet, her life had ended brutally, just two months shy of seventeen.

Nyra was that girl. But she was not. Maia was a child. Nyra was an adult. And he knew that despite sharing the same soul, Maia and Nyra were completely different people. One was a girl he’d watched over as a good friend. The other was a… Cauldron fuck him, how should he even think about this female? She was glowing and healthy and beautiful and so fucking endearing as she looked at him when he’d mentioned chocolate cake.

Wasn’t it wrong to be attracted to her?

He’d waited for her only to give her the life she deserved to live as Maia. There were no romantic intentions even though he’d been thoroughly uninterested in pursuing females for the past five hundred years for love. For so long, he’d thought about Maia and how he’d take her reincarnated person to see the world and eat different cuisines, and meet different people and learn so many new things.

He had accepted that Maia would be reborn with a different face, would belong to a different race, could even be a male and whatever affections he’d had for her as a good friend would continue. He imagined a faceless figure whenever he thought about Maia’s new form and now that there was a face to fill that blank space, his thoughts had begun spiralling.

Azriel wanted to give her freedom and resources to utilise that freedom and he’d collected so much. So much money and books. He’d made a list of all the places to visit and planned out so much so that Maia wouldn’t miss anything. And he’d imagined that her happiness would make him content and he’d watch from the sidelines. But now, he wanted to be a participant. He wanted to make her happy and provide for her. And this female, so lost and confused—he wanted to be reliable for her.

And none of his shadows were in favour of his original plan to simply be friends with whoever Maia would reincarnate as and watch them be happy. They wanted him to be involved, wanted him to court Nyra, tell her how indescribably beautiful she was and to tell her about the mating bond. They wanted him to be hers. And gods help him because his thoughts and desires were starting to take that route.

Azriel knew that despite his hesitations, he would succumb. He would want to be hers truly because this was Nyra. And from all that he knew about Nyra Archeron, there would never be anyone who wouldn’t want to be hers unless they were fools. To be her sister, her friend, her brother, her daughter, her son, her mother, her father—to have any sort of connection to her was a blessing. And he knew that it was only a matter of days before he would, without hesitation, want to be her mate in the truest sense of the word. To be her partner, her husband, her companion, her lover. To be able to touch her and kiss her and hold her. To make love to her.

And fuck him but she looked so extraordinarily adorable despite her distress. Through the bond, he felt her annoyance at the doubts that seemed to pop up constantly but were never clarified. Her eyes scanned everything and everyone. And the shadows swarmed over to her, stopping a few feet away, waiting for her permission. She watched them and Azriel felt her as she recognised them. The storm within her calmed a little as the shadows wrapped themselves around her extended hand and the rest of them settled down on her skirts.

Azriel heard her breathing and her heart rate return to normal. She continued to look at the shadows as they snaked around her fingers and palm and wrist. Her features softened and then she looked up and found him. His breath hitched as she tilted her head to the side and Azriel felt a small smile make its way on his face. Through the string, he felt her surprise and watched her nod to him. He raised his glass to take a sip.

It surprised him, how much he could feel through the bond. Nyra felt so much with such depth to the point where he'd suspected that she would dissect her feelings into parts and peer into them just to ensure that there was no confusion. However that clarity seemed to be absent as she looked at Feyre with a lack of recognition and consequently, a growing sense of guilt. It was a seed and it was starting to germinate.

The shadowsinger stood straight as he watched the Morrigan waltz over to the twins, knowing how meddlesome the female could be. "Where did those come from?" Mor's voice brought out her surprise and awe as she began closely inspecting the gowns and their fabric. "I want one too."

The shadowsinger felt his mate’s confusion and guilt be destroyed before it could sprout. Nyra's examining eyes were now trained on Mor as the blonde female took the fabric of her skirt and examined it. Mor thoroughly inspected the dress and the design and was even more impressed. Midnight blue silk with gently flowing skirts and a bodice that subtly brought their figures to notice. While Nesta opted for one with a collar neckline, Nyra's gown had a square neckline which revealed all the skin he suddenly wanted to claim with his mouth.

The mere idea of touching her brought with it the onslaught of memories. And all of a sudden, Azriel was a boy, weeping as his hands were burned, howling for his mother. It had rained that day in response. He remembered the voice he had heard from that day onwards. What it said. How he felt after hearing it. The voice had disappeared after he'd been thrown into Windhaven and the only proof of it was etched on his back, cleverly concealed by his shadows. But the way his hands hurt for weeks came back to him. The memory of pain began to take over and Azriel immediately set his glass aside and moved his hands behind him. He clenched it again and again.

Those days are gone. And now, she's here. Mate. Mistress. Ours. The shadows whispered more and more about how the bad days were gone and how Nyra was the beginning of something good. But now, he was transported back to when he had killed someone for the first time. Some irrelevant person who'd called his mother a whore for birthing a bastard like him. He'd travelled through the shadows for the first time and killed the foulmouthed asshole within the next five seconds. Azriel was twelve. The faces of all other people and many faceless people from the distant past he'd killed and tortured and killed flashed by. And the blood in his hands was a constant.

Scarred hands, bloodied and wielding the Truth Teller and other weapons. This was who he was. And Azriel dared to glance at Nyra's hands. Slender and so much smaller than his own.

Untainted.

Unlike his own.

He had no right to be her mate. Azriel did not know the exact moment he had placed her on a pedestal. She sat above everything and he was beneath it all, not even worthy to be a stone that would lie in her path. To think of touching her was blasphemous, the act itself a sacrilege. It should never happen. It could never happen, no matter how violently he’d started to desire it.

But even when he’d begun to label the act of touching Nyra as something forbidden, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

"It's a good thing we're not the same size or else I might be tempted to steal your dresses." Mor smiled coyly. Pretending had to take a pause. He looked in their direction to see Mor's smirk aimed at him. And Azriel looked away as all the decency of thoughts that he had somehow managed to bring about evaporated without a second's notice. Feyre. Looking here. No. He had to stop thinking about touching her. Someone as undeserving as him could never have any right to even request such a thing.

"Likely right off them." Cassian's remark was an unhelpful one. Mor's smirk widened, bordering on mischief and desire. And no matter how much Azriel tried to distract himself from looking at Nyra, even thinking of her, the bond did not let him. And neither did the shadows. He felt her confusion take a back seat as Mor's contagious smile began affecting her. She was remembering the time when she had teased Azriel and Cassian about fucking in the forests outside the Archeron estate. An adventurous tumble, she called it. And then there was Cassian, going along with it and extending an invitation to join them.

Azriel felt like his salivary glands were working too well at that moment. The thought of Nyra between him and Cassian, all of them nude, brought about another moment of desire before he felt someone pinch his neck.

"Control yourself. You're not an adolescent." Cassian whispered to him. "You can get through dinner, right?"

Azriel had to truly contemplate that. The female had been here for not more than twenty minutes and he had already felt so much. Admiration for her beauty, concern for her distress, amusement at how endearing she was, a trip down the lane of traumatic memories, arousal. And all of it was his own feelings. He could also feel her through the bond and that was an entirely different category.

"I hope so." Azriel stole another glance at the sisters. Nesta looked rather unimpressed by what Mor said and Nyra was looking at Feyre who was smiling at her older sister. And he felt her helplessness at not being able to smile back.

Nyra's confusion was a wound that seemed to be getting infected. Azriel realised that she seemed to no longer recognise the person Feyre had turned into and that was hurting her. The guilt of not being able to identify this woman as the girl she raised in the neglect of their mother.

The way Nyra seemed to feel like Feyre was no longer her sister or even an Archeron was all too palpable for him. Did she feel like the Inner Circle had stolen Feyre from the Archeron family? Azriel did not know and Nyra looked at Mor again, trying to forget what she had just felt. All while the youngest Archeron smiled oblivious to her sister's inner turmoil. What was that bit about her mother? Azriel was curious and he stored that information away for future references.

"Fortunately for you, I don't return the sentiment." Nesta did not bother looking at Morrigan for the fear of her power and claimed a seat. Azriel coughed. His own surprise slammed into him as Mor took Nyra's hands in her own, the shadows on his mate's hand retreating just enough to avoid any contact with Mor's skin.

Azriel focused on their mating bond, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Once he had decreed himself to have calmed down significantly, he tried to remember what it was when he met Nyra for the first time. The state of his mind when he met the woman who had rushed to greet her youngest sister after so long. The conversations. A female like no other. Truly incomparable. And the peace he felt, he pushed towards the bond. He saw her shoulders relax and how she had begun calming down.

Nyra looked at Mor who smiled brightly at her. "Do you? Return the sentiment, I mean."

"May I take off your dress?" Nyra looked at her, eyebrows raised. Azriel stopped himself from taking a sip of his whiskey lest he spit it out or choke on it.

To take off that dress. Removing the straps resting on her shoulder. Unzipping it from the back to reveal more skin. Warm and golden under the faelights. To move behind her. Kiss her ear, her neck. Removing those silver combs that let her curls remain in a bun and to watch them drop down. Gather her hair in his hand to push them to her front. To let his mouth descend and taste her back. Pulling that dress down as he got on his knees behind her.

Talons knocked at the doors of Azriel's mental fortress, pulling him out of his fantasy. Control your scent, brother. Rhysand's voice came as a warning. He had to control his scent, desires and his aroused state. This was not the time or place for his mind to go wild and start fantasising about... Moving on.

"Why would you want to do that?" Nyra asked, genuinely brightening up due to the mischief Mor had started cooking. Azriel felt like he had sinned with his filthy fantasies about this adorable darling of a female who was his mate. Why was she so... everything? He picked up his glass of whiskey and drank a good amount of it.

"Your dress is beautiful." Mor trailed a finger from Nyra's temple and pushed a strand behind her ear. Nyra controlled her shivers but the shadows told him how sensitive she felt her ears were. He really wanted to test that. With a lick to her earlobe before he took it between his teeth for a soft nibble. No, he could never touch her. "And so are you."

At this point, Azriel remembered how the conversation between the brothers and the Bone Carver was supposed to be a secret. The three Illyrians had bargained over that and three stars were subsequently tattooed on their bodies as evidence. No one would know until the three of them decided unanimously to tell them. And that was how Feyre came to know. Amren suspected something but did not pry.

Mor did not know anything at all. Nothing about the possibility that the female standing in front of her was once her cousin. Very distant cousin but that was beside the point. And Azriel, who knew it, felt the bile rise at the back of his throat at the potentially incestuous interaction taking place... No. It was important to remember that this female was Nyra and not Maia. Even though they shared the same soul, the person was different.

"I will ask you if I require assistance in removing this. Will that be fine?" Nyra did not really consider what reaction her reply would evoke but the surprise in Morrigan's face was rather amusing. Mor's brown eyes widened and she swallowed. It was fun, Nyra decided. Azriel could not help his smile but he did hide it behind his glass of whiskey. And just when he thought he could finally have a moment of peace, Nyra spoke. "Your reaction is rather interesting. What is going on inside that pretty head of yours?"

Mor blinked, not expecting such a response. In fact, none of them had. It was the sort of thing they'd either heard or spoken while flirting with females and males. Oh fuck, she was starting to get into this. Azriel watched them, wondering whether he should be jealous of Mor. The red of the Truth Speaker's dress and wine seemed to seep into her cheeks. "What?" That was the only intelligent reply the blonde female managed.

"What?" Nyra repeated and looked at the blonde female with raised eyebrows and a mischievous look. She then released her hands from hers, took a step back, turned towards the seat with a gentle twirl of her skirts, pulled the chair next to her twin's back. She moved to sit down and adjust the chair according to her. Azriel felt the delight coursing through Nyra. Thank gods, all her distress seemed to vanish for the night.

Azriel did not understand how this female who had panicked like she had witnessed the end of the world was now standing and making such light hearted conversation. It was a strength, he recognised. Something he'd seen in every member of his unconventional family from time to time. To be confronted with the worst and then having to pretend as though nothing had happened. And Nyra was having fun teasing Mor.

A faint blush covered the blonde female's cheeks at the implication of Nyra's words. And for the first time, she saw Nyra for the striking beauty she was. Mor's gaze travelled from Nyra's face to her neck and so did Azriel's. Under the golden lights that brought out the colour of the Archeron sisters' hair, Nyra's hair glowed faintly on one side of her neck while the other side remained exposed. Cassian pinched Azriel's ear and that brought him out of his trance. The shadowsinger glared at his brother only for them to look towards the dining table when Nesta cleared her throat rather loudly.

"Well... I..." Mor fumbled, clearly not used to being the one to blush during flirtations.

"That's what I thought." Nyra raised an eyebrow. The teasing look was a new one for all of them. The shadows twirling around her fingers and palms cried out in joy, dancing at Nyra's good mood. Mor grinned broadly and shot him a cheeky wink before claiming her seat opposite Nyra. Cassian let out a snort and Azriel jabbed him with his elbow at the ribs before moving to claim his seat at the dining table.

The shadowsinger sat next to Mor, not opposite to Nyra but not too far away that he couldn't see her properly. From this angle, he could see if she was eating properly and if she got a chance to taste every dish. And if she liked any, he could keep a note and ensure she got more servings. Cassian had left momentarily to raid the wine collection and returned with a few bottles cuddled to his chest. Wine, Azriel would consume as easily as breathing. At this point, he'd need something stronger than whiskey even.

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd

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bl0rbohandbag · 3 days

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– some vampire the masquerade x changeling the lost concepts that will not leave me alone.

"but vtm and ctl are from different settings–" shhhhhh :)

before i begin: i have been dabbling in vampire the masquerade and changeling the lost content for a while, i am not a fan of changeling the dreaming and vampire the requiem is unfamiliar to me. anyway! buckle up, enjoy the ride, this is kind of long.

trigger warning for abuse/unhealthy parental relationships because vamps i guess.

first of all: i recently read vtm: bloodstained love. while it focus on the more romantic and sexual aspects of kindred relationships with a lot of references to obsessive/posessive behavior and grotesque acts of love, it also made me wonder how those would translate to platonic or familial relationships. add some changeling shenanigans to that and we have some interesting concepts to play with! and with that being said...

– you're a changeling. kidnapped into arcadia and trapped there for who knows how long. in your durance, you dream of going back home, of reuniting with your friends and family, escaping your keeper to finally, finally enjoy freedom in the world you were born in.

– and one day, you do escape. back into your world, never feeling completely safe with your keeper looking to get you back and huntsmen being a very real threat, but you're ready to rebuild your life and enjoy your newfound freedom.

– there are various mentions throughout the ctl books on how unsuspecting or heedless changelings might have their freedom stolen again, this time by kindred. so, as it turns out, you'll have to deal with creatures other than the true fae who are more than willing to keep you caged!

the angst potential in a changeling reuniting with ther parent(s) only to find out they've become something inhuman, and not all that different from their keeper is unmatched.

maybe you watch them from a distance first. maybe you excitedly seek them out. maybe you just randomly bump into your parent by complete chance, after presuming them dead or deciding to abandon your old life. maybe they find you.

but the point is: they're kindred. so different from when you last saw them, as a teenager, as a child, before you were taken. as if having huntsmen and your keeper after you wasn't trying enough, a vampire parent comes (back) into your life to make it even more complicated.

a ventrue dad will make his ghouls your bodyguards, following you day and night. it makes you insanely uncomfortable, as you liken them to changelings serving true fae back in arcadia. he says it's because of his own dangerous kindred affairs that might affect you, but after an unplesant encounter with the huntsmen he might just decide you shouldn't be out and about at all.

your parent is either a neonate or an ancilla by the time your return from arcadia. your fetch is dead for whatever reason, expired, after living a life in your stead, automatically making the vampire believe their child is dead– now imagine their surprise and confusion when they see you– real you, living and breathing. and maybe you're distraught, too, seeing that they haven't aged a day or should, depeding on how long you've been gone, be most definetly dead.

(this is absolutely NOT going to send the vampire parent into a mental breakdown and spiral into obsession upon discovering the child they have lost and buried was literally a soulless copy of their real child who got kidnapped by faeries. a clone made out of twigs and a cat's eyes that stole their child's place and they never noticed. everything is just fine. it does not them affect them mentally at all :3)

(bonus points if the fetch was killed by the vampire parent's enemies after being entagled in their mess. they feel like they are getting a second chance and will absolutely not screw it up! cue you, poor changeling, being locked away or put under heavy surveillance.)

on the other hand, a kindred parent who currently has a living fetch of their child just being EXTREMELY distraught when they keep spotting someone who looks exactly like their kid at random places they definetly shouldn't be at is very funny and kind of unsettling!

(a vampire mom just feeding on mortals at the club, socializing with other kindred, perhaps dealing with some unresolved issues with her sire, etc. Then she spots you, her real kid, unbeknownst to her, just chilling, among all those dangerous vampires, when you're supposed to be in your dorm room at least a thousand miles from there. she calls the fetch's phone, expecting you to pick up and start explaining yourself. your fetch answers the phone, talks to her, sleep-drunk and confused as to why she's calling so late, but the person she's looking at has made no motion at all. they're not talking. they have not picked up the phone. but that's her kid's face, she's sure. what the fuck?)

for low-humanity ancillae/elder kindred, having their child back might bring about long-forgotten mortal feelings of genuine parental love, although they might express in the very unorthodox way kindred would. they simply do not understand why their child does not want to be around them. they just want to bond with you and keep you safe where kindred and fae can't get to you, make up for lost time. what do you mean they're "just like your keeeper"?

i think a lot of kindred parents will leave you be, mostly brujah or gangrel, knowing you'll be safer if they keep you away from their world. provided there was no fetch to replace you, they think it's amazing enough you were found alive and well after years of being a missing person. you don't like talking about what happened in your... "durance"... fine, they'll keep the investigators off your back, too. they might not even know you're no longer human. but they are going to check on you once in a while, or keep tabs on you, or even have some of their people watch you from a distance. just to make sure.

(just don't let them catch wind of all the changeling shenanigans or huntsmen attacks on your person. that might just change their mind...)

kindred parents might believe you're safer away from their world, yes, but they can just as easily bring you into the mess of kindred society without a second thought.

not very fun being a fairest when your toreador mother insists you show your mien to impress her fellow clan mates and other kindred with your overwhelming beauty. she's always been a pageant mom, so this shouldn't surprise you. there's several layers of wrongness to this, from having your changeling identity exposed to multiple vampires to further your mother's social status to this very situation bringing back so many unpleasant memories from your durance, and it's bound to end badly.

(the toreador pageant mom could very easily be a nosferatu pageant mom, a cleopatra now living vicariously through your fae-given beauty.)

(she will realize how terrible a mistake that was when vampires start really paying attention to you. or not. who knows.)

(gifts that could easily have come from a true fae lord start pouring in. letters written in excessive passion, bouquets of bloody roses, dresses made out of human skin, all delivered by equally dazed-looking ghouls. perhaps your mother will know, then, she fucked up severely. or maybe she'll just tell you to be grateful for those wonderful gifts.)

on another hand, a nosferatu parent taking one look at their fairest child's mien and deciding "oh. no kindred can see you like. ever. stay away from toreador specifically". you don't know what a toreador is, but you'll try to heed the advice.

your ancilla mother meets your motley and proceeds to show them baby pictures of you, taken in the 1870s shortly before your abduction to Faerie. they are very well preserved and you look most proper in your little sailor outfit.

you have a beast/ogre seeming and your gangrel parent thinks you're pretty rad :) you go hunting together.

your tzimisce dad has living furniture made out of human skin, but it's nothing you haven't seen in arcadia before. he's a little disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm, and very offended when you tell him your keeper had better taste in couches. trying to evade a tzimisce dad after he's been made aware of your existence is a difficult task, and you will get caught and held captive at one point (for your safety, of course!). if there is a fetch currently living your life, they will be immediately killed or horribly tortured (read: vicissitude) for the crime of decieving the tzimisce and impersonating you, regardless of you already having decided to leave said fetch alone.

(tzimisce dad thinks you should be thankful. he dealt with the imposter. shouldn't you be happy?)

(if he’s got cash and has some land within his domain to spare, he might let you build a little home not too far from his own to give you a semblance of independence to try and settle you down. might.)

(on the other hand, you have the chance to become a really good escape artist. take your time in captivity with your tzimisce dad to practice your escaping and running away skills, after all, every good changeling needs it! you also get the bonus of reliving your childhood/teenagehood with all the sneaking out.)

(quick intermission: all of these concepts might result in low-clarity for the changeling?? i'm not too sure how clarity damage works yet.

update: it absolutely might!)

your malkavian mother thinks she's plagued with visions of her missing child, glimpses of what they might look nowadays, wherever they are. this is actually you, visiting her in her dreams through oneiromancy.

(everyone thought, back then, that it was just a scare. you wandered into the forest and for ten hours people searched for you, only to find you safe and sound, without a scratch in your body or a speck of dirt in your shoes hours later. but she knew better. she knew that wasn't really you. it haunted her for the rest of her life, and it haunts her unlife even now. she never made it to the hedge.)

you can't take your tremere parent ANYWHERE. you give in after endless nagging and take them to a goblin market, but their arrogance will get them roped into terrible deals if you don't keep your eyes on them full time. you do take this as an opportunity to show off your changeling capabilities. you're in your element.

(you also drop life-altering bits of Faerie lore at random or inappropriate times. it sends them spiraling. you just hope they won't share it with anyone...)

darkling changeling just chilling with their nosferatu dad in the sewers, sharing rats.

and that's all for today, folks.

#i put more effort into this than i should have #child in here is being used as a gender neutral term to daughter/son just to clarify #there is a lot that can be expanded upon like. how long does it take for the changeling to figure out their parent is a vampire?#how long does it take for the vampire to figure out their child is a changeling?#there is also a very real possibility of kindred trying to embrace/ghoul their changeling child not knowing how that is not going to work #we haven't even discussed court changelings.#and let's not get into changeling blood right now lmao #that's a whole can of worms we'll open at another time.#i had vtm in mind but if you want to interpret that as vtr please feel free!!#vtm #ctl #vampire the masquerade #changeling the lost #toreador #tzimisce #ventrue #gangrel #malkavian #long post.#wod #world of darkness #chronicles of darkness

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