#like. this might just be me looking at it more in terms of plot rather than like power but its not gonna be present much anyhow cause kaido

[ken-jaku]

pretty nose, pretty boy. zayne from love and deepspace

there's a huge chance my phone may have distorted the quality to make it look like he has a dorsal hump but idc! i like the idea of it sm that im gonna lie to myself!

content warnings. suggestive content (smut), pussydrunk!zayne, both fem!reader and zayne are virgins, fingering, oral via face riding, zayne has a dorsal hump, semi!public sex (at akso hospital for the plot😼). vague mentions of zayne's asphyxiation kink, brief mentions of pining, nervous/anxious reader. verbal consent (zayne strictly wants words, no hums or nods). zayne is naturally dominant in this... idk what came over me. overstimulation. cumming right after an orgasm cause "love knows no bounds" :D mention of jealousy towards rafayel. reader has doctor/patient kink? all this on the first day of dating is crazyyy shit writing, haven't published anything since 2016 and that was a 5 chapter, 300 words each, wattpad story on hanahaki💀 huge chance i might edit this again later

word count. 5.09k words

"zayne?" your words are almost like a whisper as you squirm on the couch, impatience and anxiety riddling you as you can't wait to get dinner and execute your plan of either a.) finally getting a longer kiss compared to the two-second one you had earlier or b.) getting said kiss and have him hang out for a few more minutes after he walks you to your apartment. your boyfriend of just a few hours, which still feels rather unreal, sat across the room from you, hard at work. his long, scarred fingers tap away at the keyboard before him. a soft, short hum leaves his lips in acknowledgement of you.

said hum goes, unintentionally, ignored as you couldn't stop staring at him. the way his long eyelashes gently graced his lids, his nose twitching ever so slightly to shift his glasses as he focused on the computer screen. his beauty- his very being was captivating.

you never noticed it before but his nose had a small, almost unnoticeable, dorsal hump. soon enough, your mind went where no one's should be, especially on the day you confess and start dating. you wanted to fuck his face, plain and simple. sure, it was a bit too soon to have those thoughts but, really. who cares? you cuffed a pretty man with a pretty nose- you just can't help yourself!

"are you alive over there?" your physician's monotone voice almost makes you jump, "you've been staring at me for quite a while," his voice now laced with faux concern, "i couldn't get your attention for almost a minute."

you clear your throat, smoothing out your dress as you stand up. your fingers picked at each other as you got closer to him. zayne's mind drifts briefly from the task at hand as he watches you through the corner of his eyes, taking in the long silk sundress you chose to wear. the dress hugged all the right places and was quite flattering on you. for it to be the first formal piece of attire he'd see on you- it was like a blessing.

"when are we gonna leave? our reservation's in thirty minutes." you sigh, leaning over his desk and taking a peek at his computer before ultimately resting your head on the wooden surface, staring at his hands as the unfamiliar terms and long words on the screen annoyed you to no end.

"soon, my love, and stop hurting yourself. we won't be late." he places his left hand in yours, eyes not leaving the screen before him as he holds his breath in your presence. that was the end of it. you knew him well enough to know that. your begging would only result in the same monotone voice, the only difference being the almost unnoticeable annoyance that laced his words. it made no sense to fight back. you struggle not to release another sigh, your eyes never leaving the handsome man in front of you.

well, at least he has his beauty going for him despite being strict.

your hand reaches up to his face, delicately tracing the lines of his nose, following the curve of his high nose bridge upwards with your finger. just as you barely tilt his glasses, he stops you— his large, cold hand gripping your wrist. the interaction sends shivers down your spine as his eyes stare into yours with an intensity that leaves you wanting.

zayne finally lets out a breath, "is there something on my face for you to be staring at it for so long? the more you distract me, the longer this will take." your nickname follows— the word leaving his mouth sweetly in comparison to the others.

a murmur leaves your pretty, glossy lips, having swiped your tongue over them one too many times in the past three minutes, "you just have a pretty nose..." you trail off.

your physician tilts his head, eyes never leaving your face as he reads your body language. you were nervous- that was obvious but you were also hiding something, "what do you like about it?"

your cheeks feel warm and you find yourself averting his gaze as your head leaves the desk, the area now occupied with your elbows, "you have a dorsal hump."

he hums, "that i do... is that all you like?" your breath hitches and you cross your legs.

planting your palms on the wooden surface, you quickly attempt to rise from the desk only to find yourself being pulled back into place. zayne had dragged you back to him with the same singular hand that gripped your wrist. he was enjoying this, you could tell. it was never in his nature to pry so deeply even when it pertained to him so to see him show his true colours the day you begin dating...

"zayne..."

"come here." he hoarsely whispers as he stands up, taking a step closer to you before pulling you towards him, closing the distance between you two. his hand finally lets go of your wrist, opting to place both of them at the sides of your body, resting them on the desk behind you. you feel yourself leaning further against the table as he gets closer, until eventually, you find yourself almost sitting on it. he had you trapped.

zayne sighs, his head now resting on your shoulder as you eye the way his hand moves. just barely brushing your hip, he slides his hand down from your lower arm into your palm. one thing about zayne: he frequently has dreams about you- perverted ones at that. he was never proud of them but, god, did he indulge in them whenever they came along. you'd walk around the hospital every week, clueless about how he wished to secretly take you, not in front of everyone, though- he wants it to be away from prying eyes, but never prying ears.

while roaming akso and attending to duties, he'd regularly spot you in the corner of his eye- he doesn't like to admit it but he does make an attempt to cross paths with you at least once before seeing you in his office when you come for appointments. in your little skirt, you'd bend down to receive the same drink from the same secluded vending machine- the plush of your thighs on display for him to see. the sight would always leave his throat dry as he either speaks to you, forcing himself to let go of all the lewd thoughts and have a proper conversation, or he turns around quickly, as if he'd committed a sin, only to come back to that very same area every two weeks to commit the same act.

sometimes, just as he's about to address you, he hears your friend calling out to you with a sulky demeanour. it was always that same friend named rafayel too, never anyone different. deep down, he wishes for that kid to stop clinging to you like a lost puppy, showing up at akso, begging for your attention as he claims he fell down the stairs or got a cramp in his finger. he also occupies a hospital bed from time to time by admitting himself when he really doesn't need to but that's the least of zayne's grievances with him. zayne's always dreamed of wanting everyone, especially rafayel, to know you're his. and now that you two are dating, he's one step closer to said desire.

you feel two pecks on your shoulder blade and one on your palm. he brings your hand up to cup his cheek, "tell me what else you like about my nose, (name)." his tone was more commanding than anything, seemingly laced with jealousy and annoyance- not towards you, of course- never towards you. he'd never spoken to you that way before but, god, do you like it.

you watch as his fingers graze yours softly, his eyes only ever leaving yours when he closes them, revelling in the warmth your hand brings his cold, freezing body.

"i... " you feel his knee grazing your thigh as you try to spit something out.

"you can say it. no matter how vile and vulgar your thoughts may be... i want you to say it," after reassuring you, he asks once more, "what else do you like about my nose, (name)?"

a soft gasp leaves your lips as you feel his knee push further up your dress, "say it," he whispers, his lips now grazing your ear as his hand reaches for the back of your neck.

"i love how easy it looks to ride, zayne, fuck-" your words get muffled as zayne kisses you intensely. the feeling has you dizzy as the farthest you've gotten were the pecks initiated by you earlier that day and the ones he initiated just a few minutes ago.

his other hand grips your waist tightly as he presses himself into you further, his hands now the only thing keeping you from falling back onto the table. with the way he handled you, it was like he couldn't get enough. your very scent allured him.

"is this okay?" his lips withdraw yours as he begins leaves pecks on your cheek and neck as he awaited your response.

a nod and hum left you as you stared at the windows, looking at the reflection and taking pleasure in the way he kissed your body. but he stops.

as you were about to turn to him and ask what was wrong, a strict stare was all it took. his brownish-green eyes pierced into yours in the reflection of the glass. his eyebrows raised as he waited for something from you. he wanted words. he needed to hear, through proper verbal communication, that you wanted this.

"yeah..." you sound almost breathless facing him, "yeah, i wanna do this."

a small smile reaches his lips before he kisses you again. more deeply, more lovingly. he was relishing in your very being. the girl who he'd pined for was finally his after fifteen long years.

the hand gripping your hip would soon spread around your waist as the other rested on the fabric covering your thigh—a fabric that he would push up in annoyance as he needed to feel you bare.

his thumb would involuntarily twitch, grazing and pushing at your cunt as he squeezed and rubbed the plush of your inner thigh, the cold pressure being felt through the sheer panties you wore had you shivering.

"zayne.." your impatience was getting the best of you and zayne could see it. he chuckles as he bunches your silky sundress up at your waist and hooks his long pointer and index fingers around the last piece of fabric that bars you from him- teasing him with the dampness that left it looking a deeper colour than usual.

before he can ask, you give him the confirmation he needs, raising your hips, "take it off... please?"

he obeys, a little too willingly as if his patience was also wearing thin, and a soft 'fuck' leaves his lips as he stares at your dripping cunt, the vulgar word shocks the both of you.

he can only chuckle as he eyes the dress straps that had fallen off your shoulder, "the things you do to me." ever so slowly, his cold hands push the straps further down, pulling your arms from out of it. your breasts were now on display for him as the dress slid down, grazing your sensitive nipples in the process and stopping at your diaphragm.

you look away, gnawing on your lip. it set a weird feeling in your stomach knowing he was fully dressed in his doctorly attire while you were bare, exposed for him to see- for him to examine. you feel his hand rest back on your cunt, the other hand grasping your chin to look at him. he wasn't overly rough but the hold was quite strong and decisive. every breath and movement from zayne exuded dominance.

"don't hide from me, pretty girl, you know better than that." the pet name has you shuddering, paired with the fact that he began to gently prod at your entrance with his index finger before allowing you to suck him in completely, his thumb softly touching your clit occasionally as he inspects you.

his lips find yours once more, his tongue prodding your mouth and you can't help but whine at the feeling as he slowly introduces another finger. with every touch from him, you feel your breath leaving and your hands gripping harshly at the edges of the tables, almost piercing your skin.

zayne eventually touches something. something that leaves you even wetter than before. his fingers prodded and rubbed at you- at that spongy spot in your cunt that's been begging to be touched by him for a while.

"oh, wait- fuck!" you break the kiss as an involuntary hiccup leaves you. zayne grunts in annoyance, pushing lips back onto yours in an instant- his fingers increasing in momentum as he targets that pleasurable spot.

you find yourself sliding off the edge of the table as your body trembles with every thrust. despite still gripping the table, you almost collapse onto your knees if not for the man in front of you catching you. all while holding you, zayne doesn't let up- the squelching sounds your wet entrance makes flood the room, fueling him to keep going. he was so hell-bent on making you cum one way or another.

"c'mon, be a good girl for me. do this one thing for me 'n i'll let you ride my face. c'mon pretty girl." you couldn't see his eyes anymore. his fringes covered them as he looked down at your cunt, taking in the lewd noises that followed with every thrust of his finger and the clear, wet mess that started to drip down your thighs.

you can't help but nod, "anyth-ing for you." the abuse on your cunt and the way his mouth kisses at your nipples and sternum were taking your breath away. he was touching at all the right spots at all the right times.

your head throws itself back as the increasing pressure builds up in your stomach and you can't help but hold his wrist in an attempt to try and push him off of you. zayne, still, is relentless in his actions but he does raise his head to read your expressions and listen to your mumbled, repetitive 'yes's affirming him of how badly you want it.

"gonna cum. gonna cum, please lemme cum." you repeat over and over again as your nails dig crescent moon shapes into your lover's lower arm.

zayne chuckles, his fingers continuing at the same pace, never ceasing, "you can come whenever you want to, lovely. your hand is what's pushing me away."

your eyes shut tightly as the orgasmic feeling washes over you, basking in the complete and utter loss of the control you have over your body. you feel your eyes roll into into the back of your head behind your lids and your mouth parts as broken, whiny moans leave your lips. your lover smiles as he feels your walls spasm, clamping around his fingers repeatedly, harmonious with the way your thighs shiver.

you come down from your high rather slowly and zayne lifts you up, helping you move closer to the couch while you try to get your eyes to focus and attempt to beat the fatigue washing over you.

"you said you wanted to ride me, hmm?" zayne hums, itching in anticipation unbeknownst to you. you nod a bit nervously as you try to catch your breath, watching as he sits down and brings you to him by your waist, bunching your dress at your hips in the process. your cunt was almost lined up with his mouth.

"zayne, wait. i think i'm still s-ensitive," you say between gasps as you feel his breath fanning out onto your clit.

a hum leaves his lips and he looks at his watch briefly, "i don't think we have that much time, my love. it'll feel good, i promise. but if you want, we can wait until later tonight?" he kisses your thigh. there was no way in hell you were going to 'wait until later tonight.' the ache in your cunt from the anticipation would be too much for you to handle.

"hmm, it's okay..." you shake your head as you whisper tiredly, the post-orgasm drowsiness hitting you hard. he smiles as he lays down, taking you by the hand and leading your body closer to his face. his hands reach up towards his glasses. daintily holding them by the frame, he slips them off his face to place them on the glass table to the side of you.

the sight makes you pout and zayne, being zayne, catches it.

"what? do you also like my glasses too?" he smirks, bringing your hips to lay on him. you nod as you hesitantly let yourself be guided onto his chest.

"and when you get too rough and you break them, what then?" he questions, sass lacing his tone while his eyes focus on your cunt, watching it drip all your cum all over his shirt. the fact that he said 'when' and not 'if' had your body twitching. still, annoyance riddles your body and you roll your eyes. he's always ten steps ahead of you.

“ugh.. you’re so…” you’re at a loss for words and zayne can’t help but smile at your reaction.

he grips your hips roughly pulling you up to his face, "hmm...that's enough banter for now. don't be shy. 'm gonna ease you into it. and yes...i'll be fine, i promise."

with the constant reassurance, you build up enough courage to sit on him and almost immediately does his tongue find your clit, occasionally tracing around your labia and prodding your entrance.

"ha— zayne. wait!" a high-pitched strangled moan leaves your lips and the man grunts under you as your body lifts itself off of him in shock. zayne feels his eyes almost roll into the back of his head as he briefly catches a glimpse of how your pretty, puffy cunt pulsates around absolutely nothing. as he comes to his senses, his arms quickly lock around your legs, bringing you back down and keeping you in your rightful place— on top of him.

your moans get louder and louder and soon enough zayne finds himself humming satisfyingly into you, sending vibrations all throughout. to hear your cries of pleasure just from this, alone? while you tasted so good? zayne was in his own icy wonderland.

"waited years for this pussy and it's finally mine." he mumbles deliriously, and you nod, "all your— hmpf, fuck, all yours." he was fucking insatiable, arms tightening around your thighs as he forced you to press further down onto him. tears start to well in your eyes.

at this rate, zayne's cock was harder than ever before and you, yourself, notice that as you lean back, palm accidentally pressing down onto his erection, touching on the bounds of both pain and pleasure for him. a soft moan leaves him as he takes his mouth off of you for a moment, thick cock throbbing with want.

"wait," he says between shallow gasps for air, "not yet. i just want to focus on you right now... can you let me do that?" you nod and he slaps your thigh, which quickly has your spurting out multiple 'yes's in an apologetic tone.

you feel your body lifting to which you whine, tears falling in thick globs as you unconsciously hump the air for some needed friction, your pussy once again clamping around nothing, as you assume some sort of punishment was about to begin.

zayne watches you amusingly. it was quite a pathetic sight- one he loved, don't get him wrong but the thoughts that flowed into his mind weren't nice— slapping your ass, pinching your thigh or edging you every time you forgot to properly address him, tears falling down your face as you apologize and pout, begging to be fucked. god, he could feel his cock twitch in his pants.

it was the first official day of dating, though, so he wanted to cut you some slack and slowly ease you into things.

he finally puts you back down- noticeably, a bit further up his face. his arms lock you back in place, preparing himself in case you decide to run away from him again.

if anything, he'll ease you into things by forcing you to fuck yourself one orgasm into the other on his face.

"ride my face. fuck yourself using my nose." those words have your cunt spasming as you don't hesitate to listen to him.

your body jerks slowly as you ground down on him, his tall nose repeatedly tapping and prodding at your clit. zayne doesn't hesitate to continue his past ministrations, his tongue flat against you, sliding across your folds with every thrust from you.

"z-zayne. fuck." you moan as you grip the couch's arm for dear life, your body unconsciously speeding up as you look at the boy beneath you sitting so still and pretty for you with his eye half-lidded as his mouth softly parted. and, of course, the stimulation from his nose was just not helping.

zayne was drenched, soaked with your juices and he wouldn't let up. air lessened with each breath for him but he didn't care. in fact, he pushed his head further up into you. he loved it. he loved drowning in you.

"would love to have you sit on my face more often," he murmurs to himself as he feels your fingers entangle themselves in his hair, thighs locking and trembling around his head from the vibrations. zayne pushes his head up into your cunt even further, the hump on his hose throwing you for a loop.

"zayne. zay—fuck, fuck. oh, god!" you just couldn't get his name out of your mouth. it's as if he was currently conditioning you to focus on him— to know only him in this moment. he smiles, "it's alright, you can cum, baby. no one's stopping you. get off on my nose and mouth, baby. that's it." the sounds his face created with your pussy were oh, so lewd. it filled the entire room as your physician acted like you were a cup of fresh water waiting for him after he stayed in the sahara for a little too long.

soft whimpers leave your lips as you feel yourself sobbing. the pressure building up was too intense.

"come on, give it to me." the man under you grunts as he feels his dick twitch incessantly. no matter how badly he wanted to, zayne just couldn't resist palming himself. his tongue continues to fuck you sloppily, relishing in the act as he lapped up the savoury, dripping cum from you and spit from him like a dog. all while he played with your nipples, either groping, slightly grazing, or circling them. you name it.

you feel your legs thrash as a loud moan rips from your throat before you even realize what's coming. your body can't stop shaking and all you see is white yet zayne doesn't stop eating you out, his lips now encircling your clit and as he grips your legs even stronger, forcing you to relish in the harsh suction and vibrations as he moans along with you from the sight of you before him.

you squirt all over him, short bursts leaving your cunt to shower the man under you. the shock and embarrassment don't even last long as a gasp in pleasure leaves you- zayne was still on you, eyes closed as he lapped up every last drop you had offered him. he realized you came, his dick leaking pre-cum and twitching from the fact, but never truly processed it, fucking you through your orgasm and into the next one while not taking into account your sensitivity. you had no time to catch your breath.

"h—hey. wait... zayne!" you squirm. he hums unconsciously as he digs himself further into your cunt, overstimulating you with the flicks of his tongue. it's as if he can't stop. it's as if can't hear you. or maybe he just doesn't want to hear you.

"no more! hmphf— shit!" you repeatedly tap his shoulder as you continue to shake, your hips unconsciously still grinding into his face while your upper body rocks with sensitivity, nipples harder than ever and goosebumps riddling your skin. your thighs were practically squeezing his head now.

"one more for me baby, one more. please. just one more for me." zayne murmurs as he gasps for air. he looks as if he's lost his mind. his hair is dishevelled, with some parts of his fringes sticking up while the rest just barely covers his eyes. he really looks like a pervert that came straight out of a hentai in the moment. it was quite a sight.

the longer you stare, the more he looks blurry- your vision was becoming obscured, your senses simultaneously heightening as a result while the pressure in your tummy begins to build once more.

"hng— zayne, 'm gonna cum!" you sob, voice booming throughout the entire office as you feel yourself twitch, overstimulation ravaging your body. zayne's nails dig further into your hips, breaking skin, and the sharp pain allows you to finally let go. your back arches as your orgasm engulfs you, cum squirting out of you in bursts smaller yet more powerful than earlier.

"oh fuck—" a low, cracked whine leaves your boyfriend, his neck arching as he struggles to contain himself from quivering. his body shudders as he gently kisses your cunt and thighs. a fucked out look paints his face as he tries to catch his breath, his hand softly rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm you— and himself— down as he feels unusually lightheaded.

silence follows for a bit as you come down from your high and push yourself off of your lover's face who seemed very quiet—and not the usual quiet. there was something different about the air. hesitantly, you sit on his chest.

"zayne," you whisper nervously, "are you okay?"

zayne clears his throat, blinking harshly at the ceiling with his chest still heaving as his ears and cheeks are dusted red- his pretty mouth red, swollen and glistening with you. he swallows, avoiding eye contact with you as he tries to collect himself. you've never seen him like this... so shy, so embarrassed.

the silence that follows as your question goes unanswered causes anxiety to riddle through you, "did i do something wron-" "no," he interrupts not wanting to upset you in any way, "just... a minor miscalculation."

feeling relaxed, you push yourself down further onto his waist in an attempt to lay on top of him, "a minor miscalculation? what-"

oh.

you're shocked... and flattered as you feel a deeply soaked wet spot on his pants.

"i was too distracted and forgot about resisting my orgasm," he murmurs, not making eye contact. you smile, "hmm, i can tell. but don't be embarrassed, zayne. i find it a little hot... well, very hot." you chuckle. the reassurance was nice but, truth be told, he wanted his first load with you to be inside your glistening cunt, with you begging and pleading with him to give it to you, just like in his dreams.

one side of his lip curls up slightly, "i still can't believe i orgasmed untouched. though, this is my first time so i suppose it's not unusual."

just as you're about to lay on his chest, your body jerks upwards, "wait, what? you're a virgin, too? how'd you even know to do all th-"

"human anatomy," he interrupts, "being a surgeon, your physician and your boyfriend- it's quite necessary. and though i don't watch, a common assumption would be pornography."

embarrassment riddles your face and you mentally berate yourself for asking a stupid question as he kisses you, "... and i may have read some forums." his tone was soft and wispy, almost slipping past your ears. curiosity runs through you as you look up past his head at the computer. oh, that search history needed to be investigated.

"don't even think about it. i have a computer for work and another for personal use." he rolls his eyes.

gently, he lifts you from his waist and places you onto the couch just as he rises from it. he begins unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt, wiping your cum residue from off his face onto the sleeves, "relax a bit. you need to come down from your high. we shouldn't miss the reservation if we leave in a minute... or three."

"wait, what about your work?"

zayne stops untying his tie to look at you. his head tilts and his eyebrow raises in the most comical way possible as if to say 'you can't be serious right now.'

"okay, fair. and.. your clothes? do you have an extra pair?" the moment you close your mouth you see zayne open a large closet filled with various button-ups and dress pants for varying occasions. as you take a closer look, you notice that they're organized by gradient and paired. not a single piece of clothing was out of place.

it was your turn to give him 'the look' as you scanned the closet before pointing at a paired outfit, a black turtleneck with matching dress pants. looking in that direction, zayne nods, taking the clothes from out the storage unit and undressing himself.

you feel your cheeks warm as you catch a glimpse of his bare back. you have yet to see him undressed and, to be honest, you don't want it to be now considering the two of you had plans after dinner. the sooner you fix your clothes the faster that time will arrive so that's what you do.

looking away, you notice something is missing- your panties. you quietly search for your underwear and it's nowhere to be seen. you scan the concrete floor and the velvet couches before directing your attention to the akso employee, only to catch him pushing sheer material into his pocket in silence just as you were about to query the fabric's whereabouts.

the two of you make eye contact once more. his face holds no emotion but he does turn around rather quickly, blush blooming at his ears once again as he looks at his computer before closing it and gathering the rest of his belongings.

note(s)💀. no one can come for me about the dorsal hump cause i found someone that happens to think the same thoughts as me! also i just finished day 2 of the valentine event??? zayne may have a sensitive neck ??? or am i just delusional??? + fav zayne edit if u care😼 also if i forgot something in the warnings plz dont hesitate to tell me! + i would love constructive crisitism just be nice abeg.

[harrietvane]

So, in Busman’s Homeymoon, Lord Peter buys Harriet Vane a mink cloak worth 950 pounds (according to the Dowager Duchess’ journal entry), but he buys Tallboys for “only” 650 pounds.

Even bearing in mind that real estate really did used to be cheaper, do you understand how that is possible? Or how to find out more about relative purchasing power? I used an online calculator website which gave me some figures, but it still seems insane that one could buy an entire Elizabethan farmhouse for 2/3 the price of a garment! Very curious to learn from others who understand this better than I do.

Ah, I see my esteemed colleague @oldshrewsburyian has also had some interesting thoughts on this, so I'll link that here as well before I begin.

So, it's a legitmate question, and there's no catch-all simple answer (in the gotcha sense of 'why didn't i know that bit of cultural Truth'), but there are mitigating factors that take it from a ridiculous price comparison, to merely outlandish. Even taking into account that the coat is quoted in guineas, not pounds, and that PW says the bank valued Talboys at £800 via a mortgage (the paid price was a discount, for paying in cash quickly, which is Plot Relevant), it gets us to roughly the same place, value-wise. Or shall we say PRICE-wise, rather than value, as I'll get into below. There's several factors at play here - they mainly relate to class, and spending power:

-The house is Not That Great, in terms of the kind of property that PW would usually be buying. I mean it is still a large-ish house, big enough to have 2 adults and small children in, but it's not what would be on his radar normally. The only reason they know about it, it that it's near a place where HARRIET grew up as a child. It's not getting any high marks in particular Beauty, Convenience, or Quality - the main reason HV's drawn to it is sentiment, rather than anything else. They both know that they will have to significantly add to it, and alter it, in order for it to be a comfortable home. That would usually be out-of-budget for someone in Harriet's position, who would expect to buy something that meets her needs 'as-is'. Most people looking at buying that house would be Harriets not Peters, so it might be a tough sell.

-The house has no power, and limited plumbing: There's dark references to DRAINS by the dowager duchess, it's entirely possible that this house has no modern plumbing at all - they make the comparison that the huge palace the Wimseys grew up in wasn't plumbed until recently, but then again they do have about 800 servants, whereas Talboys is just a regular house: they will have Bunter alone (at first), with an assist from Mrs Ruddle. There's mention of "a cistern" with some basic valves, but the scullery is mentioned as having a copper, from which hot water is "scooped into a large bath-can" - a copper being, simply, a large metal basin over a fire, in effect. No running hot water, maybe no flushable loos - it's a factor. They also talk specifially about having to electrify Talboys themselves - it's candles and lamps until then. It's fancy camping. By the mid-1930s, a lot of middle-class buyers would expect a little more convenience in both water and wiring, unless they had significant support staff, which Talboys would not be expected to house.

-There's probably no farm! It's a farm house - not a wider land purchase. People like PW's brother the Duke are wealthy primarily because they own land, not because of the big palace they have (which eats money, rather than generates it). The land is what gives them spending power, because other people are paying them rent to live on it, farm on it, or both. PW's own personal 'younger sibling' wealth is also mentioned somewhere to be primarily in real estate (assumed to be in London) - sad to say: he's a landlord, and that's why he's rich. Talboys, on the other hand, as a purchase, would not, in almost any way, be expected to generate revenue through either farming, agriculture, or charging rent. Until they invent house flipping in 80 years, or until the motorway goes through in 40 years, there's not much expectation that Talboys would increase all that much in value.

-Lastly, there's a massive disparity in what The Market Will Bear when we compare a basic residence vs a luxury item (like a mink coat) in the mid-1930s. This is not particular to that time, though. Like any first-year economics student will tell you, the price of something is not it's intrinsic value, it's what someone is WILLING to pay for it. If someone is willing to pay such a price, that's the price it will be. So, we're not comapring Objects, we're comparing Buyers: the the main purchasers of a slightly run-down farmhouse located nowhere special are Harriets, and main purchasers of mink coats are Peters. Talboys is priced for Harriets. The mink coat is priced for Peters.

Compare for example, a contemporary parallel: the Hermes Birkin bag. It's a leather handbag with a starting retail price of about USD 11,400. Just for the bag. Then, you have fancier versions of the fancy bag, eg wikipedia tells me one version sold at auction for USD 380,000 in Hong Kong in 2017. Now, the Harriets of today are not buying a Hermes Birkin handbag, but they are probably trying to buy slightly run-down houses outside urban centers for (one hopes) slightly less than 380k. The Wimseys of the worlds are clearly buying Birkin bags. In that way, it's actually pretty easy to get to a place where Person A might buy a single luxury item for X pounds, and Person B might buy a whole residence for X pounds, and neither feel like they'd done something insane. The key here is in a Wimsey/Vane marriage, they run up against this concept immediately, and repeatedly.

There's a good reason the first epistolary section of the novel is almost entirely taken up with money chat - the ring, the purchase of shirts from Burlington Arcade, the marriage settlement, the gift from the bride to the groom, the mink coat, the bitchy exchange between Helen and Harriet about HV being allowed "six free copies of her book" to distribute. These people come from 2 fundamentally different experiences of the world. They might have gotten engaged using the word 'Magistra', specifically to emphasise their fundamental equality (in the context of learning and the mind, to begin with), but it can't be denied: there's gaps that need to be bridged. They both know parts of their married life will be spent in attempting to do that, hopefully to their mutual satisfaction. Mention of a mink coat for 950 guineas is a nice, neat shorthand for illustrating what's still at play between them here.

[evertidings]

— JANUARY 2024.

accomplishments.

i meant to write this yesterday. and the day before. and, well, yes, also the whole weekend. it's not much of a monthly update when we're already a week into february, but we're ignoring it. time flies; it's so crazy.

i hate to admit it but january was not a good month for me in terms of writing. i really thought my last semester at school would be easy (ha) so i was overestimating how much i could get done. the truth is, i haven't touched when twilight strikes for a while. and it pains me heavily. i wish i was working on that rather than my essays (boooo!!!) but i can't afford a fail when i'm so close to graduating. so, reluctant priorities. in an ideal world, chapter eleven would come out this month. in reality, i have no date. i would love march, but my progress has been so slow i can't guarantee it.

to speak on the little i have written, though, i think it's going really well. i'm diving into some complicated things and while it's challenging, it's also been super fun. i might have mentioned this last month but a lot of things are reaching a culminating point. because of that, the chapter is definitely more plot-driven than fluff, but (don't worry!) at the same time, it's still very character-driven. i don't think it'd be a 'me' chapter if it wasn't. Blane, K and Rylan have whole scenes (K and Rylan are in one scene together, Blane is on their own; i've yet to decide how or if I'm doing it for A and N). i'm really excited for you to read them.

finally, as some of you may know, February is also the month of my anniversary. it'll be three years since i posted my intro post here on tumblr and damn, like i said, time flies. it's funny because i thought it'd be done by now, but hey, here i still am, writing chapter eleven and *struggling* with it. usually, i post some sort of anniversary special, but since i'm so behind this year, i haven't been able to get a start on it. i'm really sorry about this—i was so excited about it too because i know exactly what i want to do. i still plan for it to be released, but just not on the deadline of the actual day, unfortunately. so if anyone was looking forward to that, you'll have to wait.

on a lighter note, i hope you're all doing well! hopefully, february will be kinder to me in terms of assignments <3

[graceshouldwrite]

How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

[mamapyjama]

Thought I ought to bring this over here for the Tumblr crew since it’s making a little buzz in the other place and I want to gather all my thoughts in one place.

So, back in 2022 I was in my feelings about Izuku (when am I not?) and wrote the following little sad headcanon on twt:

Made myself sad thinking about how the original Japanese word for Quirk is ‘kosei’, which means ‘individuality’ or the unique part of a personality. It’s no wonder Deku thought he was plain and useless. Everyone has literally been telling him since he was 4. 😓 Like, there’s no way at that age he could separate people talking about his lack of meta-ability from his own unique value as a person when they’re using the same damn word. That’s the kind of stuff that’s going to stick with you. 🥺

Sad to imagine, eh?

Fast forward to 2024 and chapter 412, and as always, I was browsing the jp fandom tweets for reactions after the official release. They often pick up on things we miss like Katsuki’s childlike language, the NTR implications of the kudoichi plot etc.

As I scrolled, I realised there was a HUGE disconnect between what we in “The West” were experiencing (mostly rage at yet another translation ‘choice’) and the existential questioning that was occurring among Japanese readers.

This is just a tiny glimpse, but you should know that every single one I saw was doing the tweet equivalent of staring into the middle distance with a haunted look.

It’s all about the panel below, which was mentioned by the incomparable Pikahlua, as it is unusual in writing ‘mukosei’ without the speechmarks that signify ‘quirkless’ (to use the English term) rather than ‘lacking individuality’.

Horikoshi always uses speechmarks around “Kosei” when talking about quirks, so the implication here is that Izuku never believed he had actual individuality/personality.

Using this interpretation, Kudou observed that Izuku held the hope that even people who were detestable (Katsuki) and those who had no individuality (Izuku) still had human hearts.

Read that again. Izuku hoped that both he and Kacchan, despite their shortcomings, had human hearts. He thinks his only worth is as a vessel, a holder of OFA, and without that he’s barely human.

Ever noticed how some parts of the fandom complain that Deku is a boring MC, that he’s just ‘nice’, and we never get his opinions on things? Yeah.

Remember how hard he cried when All Might said he could be a hero? That was the first time in his life that someone acknowledged him as someone with potential, with worth. (In ch2 he also says “I have no reason to refuse!!” when offered OFA, which always struck me as slightly anticlimactic but makes way more sense now).

And remember how he cried in a similar way when Ochako told the world that he wasn’t special but that he had a special power? She couldn’t have known she was reinforcing his deepest held insecurity, and for a moment his mask slipped. Or maybe he was touched by her assertion that he was just a ‘regular high school kid’? We don’t know, but it’s worth taking a look at these moments in this new light.

You staring into the middle distance with a haunted look too yet? I know I am.

If you’re interested in the bright side (I needed this, I hope it helps):

Narratively speaking, this is the angst section that will lead to Midoriya Izuku: Rising and the happy ending they all deserve.

And the person most likely to disavow him of this sense of inherent worthlessness is the one person who added to it the most in their childhoods.

✨KACCHAN!!✨

No one else can reassure Izuku that he is special, that he’s worthwhile and—crucially—that he always has been, because he’s the only one who knew that all along.

If you need more reassurance, remember that their Origin and Rising chapters so far have all involved each other and have mirrored the emotional journey they’re both on.

Bakugou Katsuki: Origin: Katsuki struggles to accept Izuku and work as a team to battle All Might. Eventually does the bare minimum to cooperate by lending him his gauntlet.

Bakugou Katsuki: Rising: Katsuki coordinates the pro heroes and sacrifices himself to save Izuku. His body ‘moved on its own.’

Midoriya Izuku: Origin: Izuku is bullied by Katsuki, tries to save Katsuki from a villain—his body ‘moved on its own’, and is consequently told he can be a hero by All Might.

It isn’t a reach at all to pretty safely assume that Izuku’s Rising chapter will also be intrinsically linked to Katsuki, and it is his cooperation, faith and love (however you interpret it) that will finally save Izuku from his own sense of worthlessness. Closing the circle.

So yeah, this bit could be rough for the next few chapters, but I have faith that Horikoshi will wrap it up in a way that will be so rewarding and satisfying.

I’m gonna stop now because I’m ill and I need to rest my head, thanks for reading! 😮‍💨

[helloaugustmoon]

this is so classic wattpad plot but I literally do not care

Michael Jackson x she/her!reader

·˚ ◌༘͙[Keep The Faith] ! ˊ

Fishing has been one of Michael’s favorite hobbies for some time. Not in the traditional sense - he cannot sit still for long enough to actually go fishing - but rather by his own definition. Whether it be peering at the faces in the crowd at a concert, seeing faces pressed against the windows of cars and buildings he’s in, fishing is a term that Michael dedicates to peacefully viewing pretty creatures that appear just to see him when he’s passing through. In no way is it dehumanizing; he views it as comparing people to other beautiful things in nature, and in a comical sense too, of course. By now, his team is well aware of his traditions when it comes to fishing, only laughing along and agreeing with his comments pertaining to ‘nice fish’, all in jest and never something he’d consider seriously pursuing; he’d feel he had too much power over a fan that it wouldn’t be fair or just, it would be taking advantage, and that’s not something that sits well with him.

That is, until your face catches his eye.

Fan after fan came and went, greeting Michael and taking pictures while he signed their copies of ‘Bad’ and gifted him their most sincere praises. It was certainly lovely, never something he takes for granted, but to an extent, the social scale of the event can become quite tiring. He’s grateful the line is nearing its end, hoping that soon enough, he’ll be able to rest. But when Michael lifts his gaze from the table in front of him and his eyes meet yours, when he sees your smile- he swears to every holy thing he’s ever known, his heart stops. You aren’t screaming or hyperventilating, but you are trembling in a way that stirs the gentleman in him, wishing the circumstances would allow for him to perhaps offer his jacket to you. The smile on your face as you look at Michael is reflected right back at you, and his previous idea of having any power over a fan is single handedly erased by the existence of you. In that moment, had you wished it, he’d have dropped to one knee and ripped his own heart out to offer it to you. One word from you, and he’d do anything for you. All you had to do, was-

“Hi, Michael.”

And he’s yours.

Your voice is the sweetest melody he’s ever heard, and he already knows it’ll inspire more songs than anything ever has before. You are the siren to lull him to sleep, to guide him to the pearly gates of heaven someday, and he is nothing if not a devout worshiper at the altar that is you.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time, you’ve already been here so long- but, I just wanted to thank you for the music you make and the message of love that-“

Is now and has only ever been meant for you, he realizes.

Words continue to fall from your lips like a steady stream, a peaceful and thought-out poem that touches every part of Michael’s very soul. And he sits there, smiling up at you as you stand before him, in absolute awe of you. The stars of the night couldn’t hope to hold a candle to the ones in your eyes.

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s my pleasure. It brings me joy to know that my music brings you joy, too.” He answers, his own voice softer than he’s ever heard it.

Your smile turns shy, then, and Michael wishes he had the kind of magic to seal this moment in a bottle, or lock it away in a drawer, so that on the lonely nights he foresees in his future he might gaze upon this moment again. You.

“What’s your name?” He asks you, the question feeling more like a desperate plea than a general curiosity, and when you do tell him your name, it’s immediately stitched into the very fabric of his being.

He wants to compliment your name for how pretty it sounds, how well it suits you, how he’ll close his eyes and whisper it to the sky before he falls asleep and wishes for you without being capable of waiting for a shooting star to do so. He wants to, more than anything. But for risk of seeming too forward, Michael only allows his smile to widen, tells you it was wonderful meeting you, that he hopes you’ll have a pleasant rest of your day, and then passes you back your copy of his album - signed with his name and a kiss that he simply couldn’t resist leaving for you.

Michael’s team exchange glances when his eyes linger on you, watching you leave until you are completely out of sight. At which time, he releases a sigh that is impossible to mistake as anything other than a swoon. With his longing being so obvious, a member of Michael’s team steps forward.

“Would you like us to ensure tickets for tomorrow night’s show, Sir?” The security guard offers, and is surprised when Michael only shakes his head, not offering a verbal answer as he turns his attention to the next person in line.

That night, Michael is ringing up an impressive phone bill from his hotel room, rambling to Janet about every shade in your eyes, every intricacy of you, every cadence you spoke in. After an hour, he finally leaves enough time for his sister to actually respond.

“So you made certain she’ll be at the show tomorrow, right?” It almost sounds rhetorical, not to mention sarcastic, coming from Janet - not that either would surprise Michael.

“No, no,” He shakes his head, leaning against the wall as he holds the phone to his ear, careful not to step too far from the cord. “I don’t want to enforce or engineer anything- that’s not love, that’s a script. If I’m meant to see her again, I will.”

Janet sighs at this, knowing Michael’s mind is set and that means he’ll be too stubborn to consider any alternative; his views on love and fairytales are so absolute, he’d rather spend a lifetime waiting for you and loving you anyway, than use the powers at his disposal to set up a meeting that could lead to a love story.

That said, Janet also knows that for you to have captured Michael’s attention so, you must be some girl. Women have thrown themselves at him from the moment he entered the spotlight - for him to not only notice one amongst the rest, but yearn for you so obviously and without any trace of hesitance, you must be something special. For that, Janet can only pray alongside Michael that somehow, some way, you will find your way back to him.

During rehearsals the following day, Michael finds himself envisioning you in front of the stage, using the idea of dancing to impress you, to woo you as his motivation for giving the performance tonight everything he’s got. No matter how bright the overhead lights of the stadium are, he can picture your smile widening when he dances around onstage, pointing at you as a means of dedicating the song to you, and you alone. He intends to do so regardless of the fact you won’t actually be there. Perhaps he’ll point at the stars, lest you see the footage and misunderstand that he’d ever point at another girl again.

The screams of the crowd do little to quiet the thoughts of you that continue to whirl around the mind of a lyrical genius, even when he runs out onstage to greet them. Breaking into the first song of the night, Michael puts his all into his performance as he always does, but can't help feeling that tonight he has a heavenly blessing in the form of your smile lingering in his thoughts, pushing him that little bit harder. It isn’t until the end of the first song that Michael stops moving for long enough to scan the faces he can actually see from where he stands, the distance from the stage to the front row being further than he’d like. Pausing only momentarily for a brief interval of fishing, Michael’s eyes trace over the front row. And then, he does a double take.

His heart must have been playing a trick on his eyes, surely.

He looks back again, feeling an irregularity in his own pulse when he struggles to find you in the sea of faces again, until whoever had been cruel enough to temporarily block the view of you happens to move just enough for Michael to see you again. Front row, clinging to the barricade like your life depends on it. And you’re smiling at him just the same.

His eyes lock with yours, the band behind him exchanging confused glances. By now, Michael should have given the cue for the second song to start, but the perfectionist has been entirely distracted by the very definition of perfect that he’s been waiting his whole life for. It takes several seconds for him to accept the reality that you really are right there, but as soon as he does, the smile on his face is so big he’s concerned it’ll split his face in half. Giving the cue for the second song to start, Michael points right at you.

“You knock me off of my feet now baby, HOO!”

Throughout ‘The Way You Make Me Feel’, Michael’s gaze connects with yours, and he doesn’t shy away from devoting the song to you in every way he can. If it weren’t for the rehearsed role of the woman onstage that he’s barely even noticing, he’d have pulled you up here with him. Instead, Michael settles for pointing at you, winking at you, and holding your gaze while singing lyrics and dancing in ways that leave no room for misinterpretation.

He continues this for the remainder of the setlist, a plan forming in his head over the course of the next few songs. Because now that divine intervention has resulted in you being right here with him again, who is he to stand and do nothing in the face of that? Of you?

With the instrumental for Liberian Girl beginning behind him, Michael sets his plan into action. Against the better judgment of his security, he jumps from the edge of the stage, making a beeline for where you stand in the front row, every face except yours blurring into his peripheral vision, the increasing volume of the screams of the crowd fading into nothing with the way your smile brightens, the closer he gets to you. Realizing how disastrous this could be, Michael’s security lunge forward to lift you over to the barrier, holding back the other fans that try to climb over with you. And then, Michael’s hand is taking yours, holding it so gently, his free hand bringing his mic back to his lips.

“Liberian girl, you came and you changed my world, a love so brand new…” He sings, eyes holding yours with reverie as he guides you by the hand until you’re standing onstage with him.

The very second there’s enough time in between lyrics, Michael lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles, and that shy smile he’s already dreamt of appears on your face again. With the gentlest movement, he pulls you closer to him, inviting you to erase the distance that he’s desperate to be without, and you’re hardly going to hesitate. You let go of his hand to instead wrap both of your arms around his neck, and Michael has never cursed not having a headset more than on the occasion that he can now only hold your waist with one arm because he’s required to use the other to hold up his microphone. Sometimes, the world is too cruel to comprehend, he thinks. Still, a man can't complain about getting to hold you in any capacity.

“More precious than any pearl…” Michael sings, his voice soft in your ear, intimate despite the scale of the concert itself that surrounds you.

Unable to resist the urge a moment longer, he starts to sway with you in time with the music, melting into the most perfect slow dance on a stage with an audience of thousands, but feeling like the only two souls in the universe.

When the song draws to a close with notes that have you ascending to an astral plane, the crowd screams with enthusiasm like never before, and Michael lowers his microphone. Wrapping both arms around your waist at long last, he leans to your ear to ensure that you can hear him.

“I prayed I’d see you again.” He tells you, his voice so sincere.

“You must be on pretty good terms with God, then.” It’s all you can do to prevent yourself from collapsing in his arms at words like the ones he just spoke.

“I think I must be.” Michael chuckles. “Now, I owe him more than ever.” His arms tighten around your waist, and your heart splutters in your chest.

Knowing that this moment is one that needs to be put on hold for now, Michael sighs, moving one hand to hold the back of your head.

“Would you mind waiting for me, backstage?” He wonders, and when you shake your head into the crook of his neck, his entire body relaxes with relief.

“See you after. Break a leg.” You wish Michael luck, surprising him with a kiss on his cheek and then stepping away from him.

His hand trails down your arm, to your wrist, and holds your hand for every microsecond he can until you slip from his grasp, but his smile is unwavering. Michael watches you leave, waiting until you’re safely situated backstage with his best security guard at your side, and then he blows you a kiss that you catch in an instant. With an effortless, expert kick in the air, Michael breaks into his next song. And he cant help looking over at you longingly every so often, just to check the perfect vision of you is still there, still waiting for him. Still smiling at him.

[thelakesuite]

The Rusty Lake Story in Bitchass Baby Terms

this is ALL off the top of my head (and i haven't experienced like 10% of it maybe?) so i might be wrong but i don't care right now

the lake itself isn't, like, that well established 'cause it's a mystery game or something so we don't need full exposition. it's some deity-like thing as old as the mammoths (not canon) that eats time. or rather memories that are stored in lil cubes. and it gives its zookeepers immortality so they can keep feeding it. they call themselves the Rulers of the Lake but we all know the truth. 'immortality', or rather enlightenment, is represented by you becoming your fursona and living maybe an extra century. mr. owl's looking for a new heir pretty quick in the process but we'll get to that.

corrupted souls are kinda a byproduct of all this. truly the lake's farts. when a person dies horribly, when their memories get extracted wrong, or when the plot demands it, they become corrupted. corrupted souls still talk, and some of them are even sensible (like your mom oooooh), but generally they're jumpscare beasts or wet little puppies. sometimes both. yes you can get corrupted when you're enlightened, and right now it's the more likely outcome actually. there's a whole 'elixir of immortality' that gets harped on, where one drinker gets corrupted and the other gets enlightened, but that is literally only a thing for roots and a little bit of cave so don't worry about it too much. unless you're making dramatic fanart in which case leverage that shit.

cubes come up a lot in cube escape, believe it or not! black ones are bad memories, white ones are good memories, blue ones are connected to the past in a way that's somehow not a memory, gold ones are connected to the future, red ones only exist in my fangame that ellesian recently unearthed, and green ones are jello yum. also suck it anyone who told me pre-tpw the gold cube thing was unestablished. anyway. it was a big thing mr.'s owl and crow were working on, creating a golden cube (presumably to extend their own lives) as seen in cave, but then one just kinda appears in the past within when albert does electric jujitsu. jury is still out on that.

onto the actual narrative i think.

in paradise, you're mr. owl pre-owling (1790-something). the lake's current suckass servants are your family who tried to sacrifice you to it way back, but your mom took your place for mom reasons. now mom's corrupted and guiding you to... well, to get sacrificed for real this time. but with your powers combined (yes mr. owl was two people, no it is never addressed) you get enlightened and tell your family to fuck off 'cause you're building a hotel on that island now. you also get a tease in the secret ending that dale and laura will do a similar fusion dance to be the lake's next suckass. we've been waiting 6 years for that to happen.

in roots, two alchemist brothers get that elixir shit going (1860-1935). one of them becomes mr. crow, while the other becomes a playable character for a game. and corrupted. you rope your whole bloodline into this, harvesting their body parts (usually after they die from other means, but you totally caused most of their deaths) for a reincarnation ritual involving a magic seed (that also only exists for this game). this is where the best characters come from because rusty lake actually wanted to tell a story with this game. you reincarnate into a woman! don't think about the implications.

in samsara room, the inside scoop of reincarnation is fuckin' weird, dude (1935). the original was made before rusty lake began, so it's not truly part of the narrative, but it got folded in for the fifth anniversary.

in hotel, you do not get the backstory of the third bird man (1890ish). instead, you get to kill mr. owl's family again, but one-on-one as animal people. how did they become animal people? fuck you that's how! mr. owl probably did it on purpose to spite them with shit sandwiches and bullets to the brain. oh, also, there might be an evil twin of mr. rabbit that shows up later.

in arles, you're vincent van gogh. that's it. he's not relevant. but it is funny seing the death date of paul gauguin in the timeline docs.

we're talking about the past within later but the 'past' segment takes place around here. 1926 iirc?

in birthday, your parents get shot (1939). you're going to be an important detective, dale, but like right now you're getting traumatized. or rather you're experiencing that memory, then doing blue cube magic to fix it and have your grandpa shoot evil mr. rabbit instead. is your grandpa actually mr. crow? no. shut up about it now.

in underground blossom, your mom gets abducted (1935-1972 maybe). okay, well, not you. this is the laura backstory metaphor game but you're actually playing as the third bird man who is both her stepdad and her pet. and her grandpa albert takes her mom rose for his own nefarious reincarnation schemes maybe probably. rose is surprisingly okay with it but characters rarely put up a fight with the plot anyway. laura's a lonely kid, starts dating robert, picks up art to soothe her nightmares, gets murked, then reaches some kind of epiphany that we just train ride away from before finding out what actually happens. she's your daughter, damnit, you should support her transcendence. not enlightenment importantly. also, no, laura's life didn't literally happen at train stops, it's just a vehicle. not even a pun don't fucking laugh i see you snickering.

in seasons, you set up a really interesting plotline that gets utterly countered by everything that came after (1960's-80's). it's just laura time in there, and she uncorrupts herself, thank you very much. the series has been struggling with how laura gets her corrupted self to 1980-whatever, and so far only one other game's even taken place after 1972. and that game's the past within which also counters every other plotline. sigh. maybe we're not smart enough for these puzzle games. at least harvey's cute and bird-shaped. key point that's impossible to fuck up is that laura dies in 1972, and it's unclear whether it was a murder or suicide. that's why we get a detective.

in harvey's box and the lake, uh i don't know really (1969). these are early games that are basically spinoffs of seasons. they help with the overarching stuff but aren't much for the narrative at this point. also they suck

in case 23, dale starts investigating laura's death and gets wrapped up in the lake stuff (1972). it was supposed to be just another murder case, but he got too into it and it got too into him, so he gets teleported to the lake chapel and ferried off to. somewhere idk. he goes into an elevator that takes him down memory lane to the lake floor.

in the mill, mr. crow is really trying to clean house before dale gets here (1972). this is where laura gets her ass corrupted by mr. crow, and we find out how the lake eats memories or whatever. it's supposed to overlap with case 23 and it almost succeeds. whatever skrunk is still there is forgiveable, this was the flash era after all.

in theatre, dale learns about ripoff hinduism, goads a man into suicide, and abandons his darling toilet fetus son (1971). it's like birthday again, where this is a memory we're seeing, but that is a light distinction. robert kills himself at the bar, and we take his memories for legal reasons. there's some sixfold wheel we learn about that doesn't matter much.

in the cave, mr. crow still cleans house before dale gets to the Magic Memory Machine (1972). mr. owl's kinda sorta dying, and dale's been elected his son or something. gotta get his mindmeats. you read a textbook about cubes, pilot a submarine to the lakefloor, put dale and laura in a surrogate fusion dance machine, then give dale the golden cube it makes before sending him up the elevator again. hotel did imply something serious was gonna happen when he gets to the top, but that was eight years ago. the devs probably forgot and fell too in love with albert vanderboom in the meantime.

in the white door, robert unkills himself and gets wrong psychiatry (1972). as it turns out, mr. owl has a front business running a for-profit psych ward to extract totally good and healthy memories from people. this one is an actual factual spinoff but is kinda relevant for the greater rusty lake metropolitan area.

in paradox, fuuuuuuuck who knows maaaan, isn't it all just a metaphor? (1972). there's a consensus that none of the stuff that happens in paradox actually happens, and that it's all in dale's head while he's in the Magic Memory Machine from cave. even though there's five different endings, he kinda walks away at the end, which might be the worst ending of the lot. the information's solid though; mr. owl spells out the whole heir thing, there's bits of backstory for dale and laura everywhere. also the movie's sick.

in the past within, albert becomes a mechanical engineer for the sole purpose of making plot armor (1926/1984). yeah, remember that guy from roots? the voodoo murderer who got third-hand alchemy information to make up for his lack of pussy? yeah, he invented a time machine decades ago. and he enlisted his daughter to talk to her past/future self to grow him back to life in 1984. with a gold cube that he somehow got. and somehow his scar is genetically coded in him. and we don't see his wiggly lineart dick. what does he do in 1984? trap his daughter in a time loop then who the fuck knows. he's stuck in his jumpscare beast ways from being corrupted for so long. how did he get corrupted when he was literally buried in the ground and salvaged bones from? next game!

there's an ARG that i never saw a thing of because i hated it, best kept memory. from what i gathered, it was another front scheme for memory harvesting, except in the 2000's. does that mean it's enlightened dale/laura doing this one, since mr. owl presumably passed on the title then turned into a fish? i'd like to know too!

also, a chapter of underground blossom i haven't completed, and a paper-based game coming out within the next two years or whatever. i don't know how much they'll clear up.

toodles!

[cuubism]

Okay but AFTER Dream dramatically storms into Desire's realm yelling "WTF did you do to Hob" I can't imagine Desire just...ignored that. They 100% had to go check out this human and see what is so interesting that Dream is all twisted up in knots over him. Can very much picture Desire swanning into the New Inn in their craziest Lady Gaga outfit already drinking a cosmopolitan and introducing themselves to Hob. Because Desire realises that rather than plotting Dream's downfall they can fuck with Dream INFINITELY more by bothering his immortal crush. It's the sibling instinct.

oh. they DEFINITELY will. and like. eventually dream explains his whole thought process, and the fact that desire has fucked with him in the past (hob: dear god why is your family so fucked up), and dream is basically like: DO NOT. ENGAGE WITH DESIRE. IF THEY TRY TO TALK TO YOU. just call me (he still does not have a phone so unclear how this will work) and i'll kick their ass.

critical point: dream did not in any way tell hob how to IDENTIFY DESIRE.

---

The person who struts -- it's really the only word Hob can think of -- over to the bar at the New Inn makes him uneasy, though he can't say why. Hob is not made uncomfortable easily, he's lived too long and been in too many scrapes to feel intimidated in his own pub, of all places.

But something about them makes his hackles rise. The eyes, maybe. They're too cunning.

But he's not in the habit of throwing people out on looks so he just offers a tight smile and says, "Get you something?"

He's tending bar himself, today. Gives him something to do between terms. And he finds himself strangely grateful to have the bar between him and his strange customer as they slide onto one of the bar stools.

"Cosmo, please," they say, voice like sugar halfway to caramelizing, a bit of pop and smoke in the smooth glide.

This is a bit of an odd drink selection for eleven in the morning, but Hob has, at various points in his life though thankfully no longer, done lines of cocaine before even having breakfast, so he really has no pedestal from which to judge.

"Coming right up."

The bar at the New Inn is well-stocked nowadays. Used to be, they served mainly beer and wine, nothing fancy. Then Hob made the horrible mistake of promising his students an end of term cocktail-making class if they came to all the exam review sessions -- because he does actually know how to make drinks, he's been alive for six centuries, thanks very much -- and now it's become a thing and he's stuck doing it forever.

Then Dream took to his drinks, and alcohol is no substitute for food but getting Dream to eat or drink anything is a bloody miracle, so if that anything is the bougiest mixture of alcohols Hob can come up with, well--

Actually. Actually that might be worse than nothing at all.

Makes Dream happy though, so what is Hob to do? Keep ordering luxardo cherries and elderflower liqueur until he outlives them, that's what.

He finishes shaking the drink under the heavy gaze of his guest and pours, sliding it across the table to them.

Hob feels like he's being sized up by a predator as they take a long, delicate sip. The color of the drink matches the pink of their blazer. Hob is struggling to recall if said blazer was actually pink when they arrived.

"Ah. You mix a good drink, Hob Gadling," they say, propping their head on their hand, looking a him from under their lashes, and, ah, so that's what this is.

Hob leans on the bar. "What sort of... entity are you, then?"

Their whole face brightens in what Hob thinks is delight. "Oh! So you are a perceptive one. Get a lot of entities in here, do you, Robert?"

"'Bout as many as can be expected. That's not an answer."

They pout. "Neither is yours. And can't a being just pop by the local speakeasy for a drink without being interrogated?"

"Seems a little unfair that you know my name, and I don't know yours," Hob points out. "Names have power, and so on, isn't that the thing?"

His guest studies him. "You are both far more normal and far less normal than I'd been expecting. Fascinating."

Um.

Before Hob is forced to respond to that, the door swings open to reveal Dream, shrouded in darkness and nighttime and vibrating with electrical fury. Shadows crawl up the windows. All the lights in the inn flicker out.

Oh boy.

"I," Dream says, each word a thunderclap, shining gaze fixed on Hob's guest at the bar, "Explicitly. Forbade. You. From. Interfering."

"What are you going to do, hit me?" taunts the other entity, leaning back on their stool, drink balanced in one hand.

Hob looks back and forth between them, wondering if he should fetch a weapon. He keeps a cricket bat here somewhere, surely...

"Dream, love," he says, once he's decided it's better to try to deescalate the situation rather than introducing further weaponry, "your usual?"

Dream nods, stalking over to the bar. His gaze flits briefly to Hob, softening, before snapping right back to the other being.

"I see you remain incapable of heeding a warning," he says, all ice.

"It's not really part of my nature," they say. "I see it, I like it... well, you get it."

Oh. Oh no.

Cautiously, Hob slides his drink over to Dream. Without breaking eye contact with... Desire? it must be, and thanks, Dream, for the complete lack of description, Dream picks up his drink and downs the whole thing in one long swallow.

Ooooooh boy.

"Desire," Hob says, and they perk up at his realization of their name, looking over at him, "might be better if you were going now."

Desire lets out a frustrated huff. "Ugh, of course. I certainly don't want to upset 'ole Nightmare here."

"You certainly don't want my fist in your jaw," Hob says, more audible threat in it than he intends -- but he remembers Dream's halting confession, about how often love had turned out to be manipulation, and he thinks he should be congratulated on his restraint, actually.

Desire just laughs, and-- ah, Hob is starting to see that there's no winning with this one. Even and especially when you haven't agreed to the game.

"I suppose I'll be going then, before the fists start flying." They slide out of their seat and glide towards the door, waving. "Nice meeting you, Robert! I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again, soon."

I don't doubt it, Hob thinks.

They take their drink with them. Hob's not feeling particularly inclined to chase down that glass.

Dream still hasn't moved. He stares after Desire, empty glass about to crack in his grip.

"Dream?"

"I said that you should call for me," Dream says, the ghost of words.

With what means, exactly? Hob thinks. Damned enigmatic shadow of a man. "You didn't tell me who to look out for."

"Oh." Dream finally snaps out of his daze. "Yes. I apologize."

"Come sit down."

Hob fetches a glass of water and drags Dream over to their usual booth, pushing the water into his hands. "Drink that."

Dream stares down at it. "Why?"

"Because you just chugged a drink you usually sip for hours. Drink."

"I will not get drunk unless I choose to," Dream says.

"Have you tested that?" Hob asks.

Dream's brows furrow. "...No."

"Then let's not do that now. Drink. Come on."

Dream sips at the water. "I am sorry," he says, slowly, "about Desire."

"And I'm sorry I didn't actually punch them," Hob says, making Dream look up at him in surprise. "Well. Sort of. Wouldn't want to make it worse."

A smile tugs at Dream's lips. "You would... defend my honor?"

"Always," Hob vows. "I'd defend you. Don't care if the devil himself has it out for you."

"That may well happen," Dream says.

Hob stares at Dream. Dream stares back.

"Oh," Hob says, or maybe just hopes, "you're making a joke."

"No," says Dream. "Lucifer and I are on poor terms at the moment. She may seek revenge."

Hob keeps staring at him. Dream meets his gaze evenly.

Hob scrubs his hands through his hair. "Lucifer and you..."

Why was it always like this?

When he looks up again, Dream is smirking at him. "You're a menace," Hob tells him. "One day, you're going to give me the full rundown of everyone who has beef with you so I can be prepared."

"That will be a long list," Dream says.

"Of course it is," Hob sighs.

Dream takes his hand as if he can comfort Hob through all of the insane interactions he's sure to have with strange beings in the near future. The worst thing is, it works. Hob squeezes his hand and immediately remembers why he's willing to do anything for him.

"I'd go to Hell for you," he says. "I'd prefer not to, though, if it's all the same."

"That is my preference as well," says Dream.

There's a lot Hob would do for Dream. It's probably unhealthy. But what's the point of living six hundred years if you're going to spend it all being healthy, anyway.

"Why do so many people have problems with you, anyway?" Hob asks.

Hob knows. Hob fucking knows why.

Dream pouts. "Matthew tells me my social skills are 'less than adequate.'"

That's one way to phrase 'you act like an arrogant dick 85% of the time.' Matthew should receive a medal for his tact.

Hob loves that arrogant dick, though, God fucking damn him.

"All the more reason to get me that list, then," Hob says. "Maybe we can prevent you from creating an interdimensional incident."

"Will you accomplish this by threatening to punch them in the face?" Dream asks, completely neutral.

"Okay, you know what? Fair," Hob admits, and Dream chuckles. "Perhaps neither of us is cut out for diplomacy. The point, though, is: of course I'd defend you. I love you."

Dream kisses the back of his hand. As if he's only just now realized what he's done to Hob's pub, the lights all flicker back on.

"Thank Christ, I thought I was going to have to replace all those bulbs."

"Do you think I would do that to you?" Dream says with a tiny smile, Hob's hand still pressed to his lips.

You've done worse than that to me, Hob thinks. Better, too. So much better.

"No, love," he says, "I know you wouldn't."

[spacingoutforever]

PLOT THEORY FOR S2 - Fallout

**MANY FALLOUT SPOILERS AHEAD - read at your own risk**

i have this weird theory that the juxtaposition we see between Cooper's outwardly grim appearance vs his morals being intact, and then Max's outwardly normal appearance vs his morally neutral choices, might be a way of telling us more about looks being deceiving for future developments.

hear me out.

Max is knocked out as soon as he finds out about Shady Sands, but he was definitely intending to do some damage, revenge had its hooks in him from the beginning. it was always there, whether it be to regain the honor the Brotherhood took away from him, then evolving into being part of the trio that was now after Hank. the man who robbed him of his home, family and hope for the future.

i saw a video essay discussing the moral choices of Lucy and Cooper's characters and i really liked the criteria they created for measuring it - ill link it below.

she says there's 2 main parts:

1. loss of control

2. being unrecognizable after enduring hardship

whether you agree with this criteria or think there's more to be added, i like how simple of a base it provides, when approaching these complex characters.

so if we then apply this to Max, he is the only member of our main cast who exhibits both points.

1. loss of control:

this is distinct to me in the Philly shoot-up, where he isn't able to control the T-60 power armor enough to put up a fair fight against The Ghoul. literally crash-lands it and then gets flung into the atmosphere LIKE PLS

he mistakenly attacks the people of Vault 4, once again losing control of his power.

the chicken-guy .... trying to derail that argument but saving the wrong person ><

Note: it's FASCINATING if you look at his character metaphorically, because the power armor is someone having the means for good but not having the understanding of what true 'good' means to them, yet. the power armor is LITERALLY his OUTWARD POWER like who is he really, underneath it??!!!!

we don't have this problem with Cooper and Lucy right now, their power is shown to be INWARD. the Ghoul's experience/connection to the beginning, and hers is her obvious moral strength and perseverance. they overlap.

i feel that his character is supposed to lean into the apprentice archetype, where he is currently lacking a proper teacher to show him the ropes. at first we expected Lucy to fit this role because of her inexperience on the surface, and yet when given a 'mentor' she not only challenges him but proves she can handle herself. ruling that one out, and leading us to believe the fate-intertwined aspect of ghoulcy has a touch more to it. implicit rather than explicit.

2. being unrecognizable after enduring hardship

Max to me fits this point too, because we still don't get a glimpse into who he truly is, besides knowing his past. from the beginning, his goal is to be a Knight of the Brotherhood, that's how he defines himself currently.

when he fights off the gulper, he reiterates this line to himself: "i am a Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel".

he says it AGAIN in response to Lucy's advances in the vault. which is a clue into how much he relies on it for his moral code, to the point where it crosses into his personal decisions. not just for 'missions' or survival.

this is like foreshadowing a tipping point for me, because without the Brotherhood, what does he want? he's acting in alignment of the code that was pushed on him, but it always feels like he has to remind himself to BE that.

that it doesn't come naturally, the way the other characters' do. we see this at the start where he gets the answer wrong in class, he's bullied, an 'outcast' within his own community (for lack of a better term).

by comparison, the Ghoul isn't even a real 'outcast' in the way cowboys are stereotypically portrayed, because he fits in the wasteland better than anyone.

so point 2. becomes relevant when he gets the armor and is unrecognizable from where he started. this is a point he never thought he'd get to, but he sacrifices his real identity to get there.

SO ALL THIS TO SAYYYY...... that's where i feel his character will be vulnerable to a villain-arc!

in the ending, he gets accepted as a Knight, but his expression betrays him. there is a continuous inner conflict within Maximus that is SO SUBTLE and its written so beautifully. i think we're going to see ghoulcy pushing each other in the right direction. their shared journey seems to be about regaining HOPE.

but for Max, i feel in my bones that something darker is coming for his arc, it feels like revenge. the goofy, lovable boy in the clunky armor, may very well end up having the darkest battle to face. and it's because he's alone in doing it.

this was a lot to digest, so if you made it this far i thank you from the bottom of my heart!!!!!!!

AND if you have anything to add i would love to hear it :) !!!!

[lycheedr3ams]

little blog announcement

TLDR: my könig fanfics from here on out will be focused on discovering his character rather than porn

rant below the cut

before you read this, just look into his eyes for a moment. are you seeing what i'm seeing? the pain and hardships he went through? the years of training and going to bed with broken bones and bruises and a bloody nose? the tears he cried alone because he had no one? can you see how many times he had to pick himself up because he was the only one he had? can you see the man who didn't get to live his dream, who couldn't be the one thing he wanted to be?

i have been thinking a lot about könig's character, story, personality, etc., and i've decided that i want to dedicate my fanfictions moving forward (for the most part) to things that only really make sense for his character. so, this means no porn without plot from me anymore.

there is so much porn without plot out there for könig, and i'm far from the best smut writer. there is an abundance of porn for könig, but far, far less fanfictions (even fewer halfway good ones) that actually have to do with his character. i don't mean disrespect to any fanfic writer, but i'm just very tired of the mischaracterization of könig. the same thing happens to ghost's character too, and several blogs have also posted about these mischaracterization issues.

yeah, some people might say this take is "too deep" or "it's not that serious", but i feel very connected to könig since i am similar to him in a lot of ways (obviously not in terms of being a killer lol). i have spent a lot of time lately just thinking about his character, and the more i think about him, the more i realize that there is so fucking much that most fanfic writers are missing about könig.

yes, we all love könig's accent, height, cock, and everything else that makes him sexually attractive. but what about the little boy who was bullied his whole life, who never had any friends, the one who dropped out of high school to join the army? the one who worked his way up from nothing to become a fierce and respected soldier? after all the porn without plot is said and done, what thoughts go through könig's mind at the end of the day? how does he interact with others? my point being, i want to dedicate my blog more to understanding his character. if you want könig porn without plot, there are many other blogs to find that from. I AM NOT SAYING PORN WITHOUT PLOT IS INHERENTLY BAD! Just that I don’t want to contribute to it.

I will still have porn without plot on my blog, but i will not be writing it myself.

this doesn't mean that i won't post könig porn. oh fuck no, i will have könig porn, but it will be in the context of a story and his character overall than just porn without plot. now, i might break this rule here and there if i have a really good idea, but i'd like to stick as close to my new personal rule as possible. i'm still going to finish the death's angel AU, and i will still be taking requests for butcher!könig cuz that AU is just so good.

but other than that, i seriously want to dedicate this blog to truly understanding könig: to getting under his skin and picking his brain and figuring out who he is behind the hood, who he is other than an austrian military sex symbol many of us - myself included - have made him out to be

if you disagree or don't like this, just don't interact. no need to be hateful. you'll get blocked if you're rude :)

[viviennevermillion]

With an asexual s/o

notes: just some self-indulgent headcanons. i don't think this is going to get a lot of notes but the ace community deserves more content.

contains: character x gn!reader, qpr in alhaithams part, the plot twist here is that the characters in question are also on the ace-spectrum

characters included: alhaitham, diluc, pantalone

warnings: mentions of sex in the context of being asexual, hints at harassment and a bit of violence in pantalone's part (not towards the reader)

aphobes, dc creators and consumers dni

Alhaitham

Let's be real here, Alhaitham as a kid took one look at romance and sexual relations and decided that he'd have a better time with a good book and a research trip to the desert. "You'll change your mind when you get older", they said to him. And then he didn't. And everytime someone brings that up he's kinda smug about it, in a told you so kinda way. Alhaitham always knew what he wanted and didn't want and people thinking they knew better was a hassle for him he'd rather not bother with.

Alhaitham is aware of the term asexual and that he falls under it by definition but he doesn't really care for putting labels on himself as he sees no necessity to find ways to explain and define himself to people. The only time he actively labels himself as asexual is when you come out to him to make things easier for you.

Alhaitham would be considered quoiromantic; he's not sure if what he feels is romantic attraction but the concept of romantic attraction also doesn't have much significance to him.

You don't get together with Alhaitham by asking him out and going on dates with him. Your bond just kinda happens. You spend a significant amount of time in each other's presence and Alhaitham finds that he quite enjoys your company. As you become closer, he notices he looks forward to talking to you everyday; to even engage in some playful banter with you. He can talk to you about all sorts of topics and your relationship just has this feel of mutual comfort to it. You can just idly sit next to each other and exchange a couple of words and somehow people can always tell you two are close. He's clearly looking out for you and you're very considerate of his habits and preferences. You're always each other's first choice for anything, whether it's spending your freetime together, seeking advice or working on something together. Alhaitham seems more at peace and happier when he's with you and so do you.

Several people had asked you whether you two were dating or just friends and feeling unsure of where you stood with him, you decided to talk to him about it. "And why would we need to put a label on it, hmm?", he asks and wraps an arm around you affectionately, "so people can put us into categories to ease their own confusion because they struggle to clearly define our bond?"

Alhaitham thought you might have romantic feelings for him and he was half-prepared for holding you a lecture on alterous attraction and how he doesn't experience attraction and relationships the same way most people do. When you come out to him as asexual he's like "god you're making this so much easier for me."

Alhaitham reassures you that he cares deeply about you and he'd like to keep you close to him as you already were. From that moment on, Alhaitham calls you his partner and you call him that too. What that entails? No one's business.

Alhaitham doesn't often initiate physical affection but he does a lot of idle motions like putting an arm around you when you sit down next to him or leaning his head against your shoulder when he's laying next to you and reading his book. He doesn't mind if you want to kiss or cuddle though.

It's clear as day to anyone who knows you that you two love each other even if they can't exactly define what you have as either friendship or romance.

Diluc

Lisa was the one person who started off teasing Diluc a little about having so many admirers and asking him "aren't you interested in any of them?" but she also was the first to notice Diluc was probably ace before Diluc himself even noticed he worked differently than most people around him.

But oh Diluc noticed, even if he didn't have a label to put on it before he met you. He always felt a little uneasy when the topic came up because he just knew it'd result in people asking questions and him not having an answer nor particularly wanting to answer them.

By the time he met you Diluc had become quite the expert in turning people down but the more time he spent with you, the more he noticed that he didn't want to turn you down. And that this time would probably result in you turning him down. Oh how wrong he was.

He could tell you liked him as time went on but he was hesitant about taking the next step because he feared you might, by convention, expect things from him he couldn't give you. And you felt the same way. So the two of you grew gradually closer, even flirting with each other on rare occasion, all while actively dancing around the confrontation because neither of you had an idea how to address the subject

You're the one who eventually tells him how you feel and comes out to him. Diluc asks a couple of questions and listens attentively as you explain asexuality to him. Then goes: "Oh, so there is a word for it.."

You felt really relieved to hear that Diluc felt the same as you did and that you helped him make sense of his experiences. He confessed to you that for a while he was worried that there might just be something wrong with him and that he's happy that's not the case and that he gets to be with you, someone who understands him and can relate.

He has a long conversation with you about your shared experiences because this is the first time he could talk with someone else about this without being at least partially dismissed. He also talks about your boundaries with you and his as well to make sure neither of you makes the other uncomfortable with something.

After the talk Diluc feels a little exhausted because even though it was relieving and enlightening, it was also stressful and made him feel a little anxious, given that you were talking about something he mostly kept to himself up to this point.

He asks if he can kiss you and if you say yes, he leans over and kisses you softly, letting you bury your fingers in his hair. His kiss is hesitant at first but he gets more passionate with time, smiling into the kiss when he notices this is actually happening. That you accept him the way he is and love him and are kissing him.

He lets you stay with him for the night, holding you protectively against his chest.

Pantalone

Painfully aware of the fact that he's on the ace-spectrum because the rich people he scams for his plans tend to get really good at oversharing about their sexual preferences after enough wine at the banquets. The alcohol is a double-edged sword because it sometimes works in his favor since he can find out people's weak points but it's also an easy spiral into "too much information, didn't need to know this"

Several of his business partners have tried to pressure him to join them in their endeavors because they "know a club in some fairly unknown alley" or have encouraged him to "hit someone up", which he always refused. Which is what bred the joke in those circles that the only thing that man is attracted to is cold hard cash.

He had many people who tried to make advances towards him, some because they were after his money and some because he was conventionally attractive. Quite a few entitled nobles had a tendency to mistake his mischievous and suave demeanor as him being flirty when really he was just scheming how to bleed them dry of all the money they have 💀

Some of them just wouldn't take "no thank you I'm not interested" as an answer, insisting they could change that. Most of them he just shooed away. Two or three ended up with some broken bones because they took it a step too far.

Pantalone has seen some shit and been through a lot and he hasn't been given physical affection in over a literal decade so he's actually fairly hesitant and receiving affection from you and he needs to warm up a bit to the idea of being kissed and held.

When you tell him you're asexual he's like "oh thank god, me too."

He always asks before he initiates any new physical contact or kisses you in a place he hasn't before to make sure to not overstep any of your boundaries. After all, he's receiving the patience from you he craved but most people wouldn't have given him.

He's pretty sex-repulsed because he spent too much time around the worst kind of people for the sake of harbinger business.

He's clingy and extremely gentle with you in private and will love you with all his heart but if anyone dares to give you shit over your asexuality or bothers you they'll receive the iciest death glare that banker is capable of. The one more step and you're a dead man kinda expression.

He'll smile and go "My, my, it sounds like you had quite the exciting day, my friend" at some rich, slightly intoxicated merchant making small talk with him at a gathering and telling Pantalone about all his pursuits of women and his affairs in detail but the second that person is out of sight, Pantalone's face falls and he looks at you with an "I'm done" expression. "I don't want to be here", he says dryly and you suggest to get another mousse au chocolat from the buffet and share it with him. "Yeah, let's", he takes your hand and glances at the guy who talked to him just now, "once I have his cash I'll buy you something nice from it." "Not this again, Pantalone." He gently kisses your lips. "See it as compensation for the emotional damage this conversation gave us."

Over the course of your relationship Pantalone finds out he's actually demisexual but that doesn't change anything between the two of you either. He adapts to you with ease, no matter what your boundaries are.

author's note: tagging @k-zu because he wanted to be tagged! ✨

[alezangona]

A Little Salaar Rant:

Rewatched Salaar again for the nth time and am just so curious as to how the sequel is going to go.

Like number one, a part of me believes that Aadhya is a misdirect as a love interest because in the nicest way, Deva and Varadha are too into each other to care about anyone else. I really don’t think that anything Aadhya says or does can make Deva prioritize her over Varadha (when it comes to matters of safety- like if someone was holding a gun to both of their heads, he’d be picking Varadha no doubt). Even in their interview where they were describing what they take away from their characters:

• Prithvi talked about how Varadha feels incomplete without Deva.

• Prabhas talked about how Deva’s priority is Varadha first, then his mother, and now Aadhya.

• Shruthi talked about how Aadhya doesn’t even belong here and how she just accidentally wandered in and how her character is important in driving the plot forward.

I feel like in the end, they’re just gonna make her a love interest because that’s usually how these films go. But that feels so weird in the context of this movie because it wouldn’t really fit into the character dynamics that have been established. A part of me hopes that she can just be a friend at the end of it all, especially since her and Deva will probably have a side quest as they deal with the asthikalu. But anything more than that wouldn’t really feel just to the story at hand. In my opinion anyway.

And number two, the plot of the next movie will concentrate on the war between Deva and Varadha. I’m so interested about how they’re going to play that out because I cannot picture either of these two wanting to actually hurt each other. It even feels like in Prithvi’s entry scene, Varadha doesn’t look excited by the fact they’ve found Deva. Instead, he kind of just looks tired/done/like there’s a burden on his shoulders. Most probably because he doesn’t want to actually kill or hurt Deva. I feel like he’d rather just turn a blind eye to his location than actually hurt him.

In terms of how the movie ends too, I know Prashant talked about how the last scene of the movie will be the same as the first scene in the movie. Which makes me think that it might end with Deva dying, because what happens in the first scene is Deva doing what he has to in order to protect Varadha. Like maybe the movie will end with the current pole! But that would be so sad… like I need both of them to survive and live out their lives together. Or, if one goes, the other goes with because with how intertwined their souls are, I don’t think either can really survive with the other being completely gone.

I think a big part of me is just hoping that they’ll end up together at the end of it all because their actions showcase nothing but love and regard for the other. It’s something that goes beyond friendship (every interaction that happened between them has literally happened before in other movies with straight couples). I don’t think I have enough faith in Indian cinema at this point in this to truly believe they’ll let Varadha and Deva become a couple.

But I really wish they would because it’s about time. Also, you can’t have a story this big and dramatic, rooted in the story of these two characters who would literally do anything for each other in a setting as bloodthirsty as Khansar, and think that it isn’t a story about love. Ya know?

Also random, but a part of was also thinking about the conflict that happened in Khansar that led to Deva and his mom having to leave a second time. Like post that is when Amma probably really got scared of the power of her son and truly realized what he was capable of in the hands of Varadha. Especially because from my perspective, whatever blood bath occurred that led to Deva feeling guilty (cuz blood on his hands) has to have occurred because he needed to protect Varadha. So even though what happened probably wasn’t directly Varadha’s fault, I kinda of want to see Varadha and Amma being able to meet each other in 2017 and there be a tension in their relationship too. Where Amma probably is wary of Varadha since she knows the power he has over her son and where Varadha probably just feels this sense of unease because how do you confront someone who was like a mother to you?

In general, this is just a rant as I watch and rewatch and try to process my own thoughts. I feel like I know mostly how the plot is going to go and what to expect out of the second film. But there’s also the bigger part of me that hopes that instead of taking the generic way out (the way most series and movies seem to be doing now) the creators will take the time to do justice to the film and to the characters by allowing it to be what it is, rather than fitting into some mold of their own expectations.

[skylermadness]

Whatever. (Lucas Lee TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: December 6, 2023)

I continue to be too lazy to fill my queue.

Original Description:

Make this Lucas Lee TF #3, now in the written medium! My boyfriend got me to watch through both the Scott Pilgrim movie and anime and it was pretty obvious that I was going to fall in love with Lucas. A bit of a jerkish man with a large physique and attractive face, pretty much the perfect bait for someone like me. This also meant that inevitably I was going to have to write a TF story on this guy! I wanted to go for something a bit simplistic here in terms of tone and plot, mainly because I wanted to jump straight into the transformation segment, but I think in general I'm rather proud of how this story turned out! I really wanted to give this man justice, especially since in the end he'll probably be memorialized in the hall of underrated TF figures. Also going to give some credit to my friend moltingscales on FurAffinity for a few description additions that I would not have been able to come with on my own! Rated Mature for vague bulge growth description.

   Truth be told, self-confidence was not something that Mike had an ample amount of. Especially in regards to how he viewed his physicality. That was always something he thought when he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. And for this evening that sense of low self-esteem was at an all-time high. The reason? Date night.

   He had always attempted to tell himself that these dates were just meant to be casual. There was nothing to really worry about since it wasn't like he and his boyfriend were going to some bougie five star restaurant or something. Unfortunately however, Mike’s mind never truly functioned that way and he had a tendency to spiral down a mental staircase of overcomplications. That coupled with the past two weeks he's had in regards to his job had sort of left his mind in a state of disarray. It wasn't fragile persé, but neither was it solid.

   That mental state is why he was in the bathroom mirror at 7PM in the evening staring at a sheet of temporary tattoos in his hand. Said sheet was just some three dollar cheapo set that he bought online a few days ago. Mainly because he was too much of a coward to get a real tattoo- that's beside the point!

   Although the cheapness of the purchase was definitely pungent as he stared down at the sheet. He didn't go for the more expensive and extravagant purchase, mainly because he didn't really want to draw too much attention to himself. In general he had just wanted something simple that also looked aesthetically appealing. However the more he stared down at the sheet he began to realize that he really went too far on the simple notion. Although that was primarily because the only selections on this fake tattoo sheet were simplistically stylized letters and numbers.

   Mike sighed. “What do they expect me to do? Spell out my name or something?” It hasn't even been five minutes and he was already regretting this purchase. It was fine though, it was fine, he might be able to settle on something at least.

   He had already crossed out putting in his own name, and he felt it would be weird to put in the name of his boyfriend. Would it be weirder to put in the names of everyone in his polycule? If anything that'd just look like a hit-list. Also he was pretty sure he didn't have enough letters for all of that anyway. For a second he also considered putting the name of a game or something he liked, but that option fell flat since the letters provided to him would look weird when tattoos of game logos legitimately exist.

   These mental gymnastics lasted for a good twenty or so seconds before Mike’s gaze wandered down to the number section of the sheet. There weren't a lot of numbers he'd say represented literally anything about him. Except…

   “...two?”

   Just two. He was the second person in his polycule with his boyfriend after all, and in general he had been the second to do a lot of things like finish college and move out. Although considering he was just doing this to boost his self confidence for a date with his boyfriend the former thought process was a much healthier one.

   Seeming to have come to a decision, the next couple minutes were a fairly standard order of events. Making sure his skin was dry, removing the film and isolating the singular number from the sheet. Mike did spend a good minute trying to choose a spot to place this temporary tattoo, but eventually settled on the side of neck solely so he could hide the thing if need be. He removed the choker that he typically wore, put it onto the sink’s counter, and placed the numerical icon onto the skin of the left side of his neck, then promptly wet up a sponge with some warm water before holding it onto where he was placing the tattoo.

   The moment the water met the backing paper that region of Mike’s neck had suddenly been given a slight burning sensation. It was only miniscule, but it was noticeable. “Eesh, I hope I'm not allergic to whatever is in these things…”

   He tried to hold out for the recommended thirty seconds, but that feeling of burning forced him to remove the sponge from his neck after twenty. He swiftly removed the backing paper from his neck, but found that there wasn't any kind of redness of the skin that would be the cause of any kind of burning. If anything the strange sensation had subsided, and now Mike had been granted a simplistic tattoo of the number two with a line going through it.

   He stared at his neck in the mirror for a few seconds and scrutinized the newly inked object on his neck. “...somewhat larger than I was expecting. Whatever I guess, it doesn't… look shoddy.”

   It did already look a little faded though. Mike had hoped once it had some time to dry it would actually look dark enough to imitate the appearance of a tattoo even though he didn't fully care about it looking convincing. With a sigh he moved his hand to the edge of the sink to pick up his choker and slip it back around his neck again. Although this time he loosened it a bit so it wouldn't rub up against the temporary tattoo too much. He apparently wasn't patient enough to let it dry before putting the accessory back on-

   With that whole routine dealt with, Mike made his way out of the bathroom. He was probably going to spend the next half hour sitting on the couch waiting for his boyfriend to arrive…

   However as he walked down the hallway he already started to massage the area the tattoo’s ink had been placed on. The burning was returning already and it felt a bit more intense now. “What are in those things?”

   He continued to gently massage the area of his neck with his hand, letting his palm gently squeeze the skin in an attempt to alleviate the sensation. Although it would seem as he continued in this act, a strange set of changes began to settle into his hand…

   There was a certain level of thickness that had begun to generate in both of Mike’s hands. His usually thin fingers steadily got larger, thicker, chunkier. As their size was getting altered their length was extending as well in order to fit their new proportions. The ends of his fingers also seemed to blunt a bit with initial the roundness of his fingertips dulling to a more straight look. At the exact same time the body of his hands was getting changed as well, both of them growing with each squeeze his left one did to his neck. They stretched out larger and wider, palms thickening as the entirety of his hands gained a significant level of meatiness to them that was already causing them to exude a level of strength that they had not possessed just moments prior. 

   From there it was a quick transition for the changes to jump past his wrists and onto his forearms. A small amount of heat began to arise in the lower area of his arms. With that heat came another swath of growths, the thinner physique of them steadily being lost under a swelling, bulking size. This was mostly because of the sudden increase in muscle mass he was getting. At an anatomical level, each usage of his extensor muscles by his hands was causing a practically impossible rate of growth. Like years of working out was being piled in the area in just seconds and giving his forearms a sizable muscularity. So much so that ridges were already forming, dividing muscle groups and accentuating the new size even further. A budding pressure had also started forming in his bones. Newly grown muscles practically massaging them, extending and hardening them further to better handle this larger size. It also wouldn't take very long for the exact same thing to begin to occur in his upper arms as well.

   It started with a squeezing sensation in his elbows, something that quickly intensified to yet another immense bout of pressure in the bones of the upper half of his arms. This was also accompanied by the same light amount of heat, which was then followed by even more muscle growth. The short sleeves of his button-up were quick to fill as the mass in his arms increased more and more. Biceps got bulkier and triceps matured tremendously, and it wasn't long until the diameter of his arms was practically doubled thanks to all of these changes. His shoulders ached as his deltoid muscles developed more, a certain roundness forming out from his once angular bodily shape. This roundness had also rapidly made itself visible from beneath the fabric of his shirt, his newly developed muscles firmly pressing up against the sleeves as they already began to look rather undersized.

   By the time this portion of the transformation had ended, Mike found himself at the threshold of the hallway and his living room. A few beads of sweat already began to form on his forehead as the heat was spreading from his arms to the rest of his body. “Uurgh, am I… having an allergic reaction to that thing…?”

   For a moment he stands in the doorway and unhands his neck, deciding to hold onto the threshold with a hand in order to stabilize himself a bit. He could still feel the tattoo burn against his neck, although he couldn't see it was significantly darker than it was before. What he did see, however, was his hand.

   “W-WHAT THE HELL-”

   For just a moment his mind was taken off the feeling of intense heat entering his body, Mike’s focus instead being directed to his larger hands and beefier arms. Flipping a hand around in a panic his first statement was, “O-oh God, this can't be an allergic reaction-”

   His eyes could only just trail down from his hands to his arms, the man only being able to behold the sight that was his recently obtained muscle mass. It felt so warm, and something about it was exuding pure strength, but despite that it all still felt uncanny. Bizarre felt like an understatement of a term, it was impossible!

   “What is going on?? Why is this- a-ahh-”

   His panicked statements were interrupted by what could only be described as the sudden feeling of a furnace igniting at the very core of his body. In just seconds his physical changes were transitioning from his arms to his torso, and Mike could instantly feel his chest push outwards and into his shirt with each breath the young man took.

   The best way to usually describe Mike’s chest was undeveloped. Flat with only minimal amounts of flab and fairly unimpressive from a physical standpoint. However, as his core was heated a fire entered his torso that caused a cascade of changes that practically tempered and sculpted his form. His chest pushed forward, his pectorals steadily swelling in size with each second that passed. It was small at first however, seemingly starting off as a slight growth that looked more like that of a novice who just started working out. But that appearance was temporary, one that lasted only a few seconds before they got larger and larger. With each ragged breath the man took his pectoral muscles only grew more, that novice feeling being lost into the size of someone more adept in gym-going. And that didn't last long as they grew even more into two thick and meaty slabs belonging to someone dedicated to refining their physicality.

   All the while his chest was pushing up against the front of his shirt. The size of his swelling pecs constantly indenting into the button-up more and more, their appearance getting more prominent beneath the fabric. But the only thing that held the halves of the shirt were buttons, and as the size of his chest increased it pushed his shirt’s placket to limits it just couldn't hold. Already buttons began to scatter, unleashing his chest more and unveiling the deep chasm that became his cleavage. A few more buttons were lost as his frame was prompted to extend as well. His collarbone and ribs pushed sideways, broadening and widening his form even more. Something that was causing even his back muscles to ache, a mighty need starting to form in them as well.

   “Urgh-” Mike grunted at the sensations, everything just feeling overwhelming. “M-my shirt- my chest it's so… it's so…”

   His cheeks flushed as all of a sudden Mike lost control of an arm. The free one that wasn't supporting him on the door got lifted up and, in just one quick moment, squeezed his right pectoral. He was given the sensation of just how soft yet firm they felt underneath his grip. Something that gave him just a single thought.

   Heh, you've got the best chest in the business~

   That very thought felt so foreign to Mike, already setting off mental alarm bells in the young man’s man. Yet despite that he couldn't swat it away, he couldn't stop his hand from giving his chest another squeeze and filling his brain with an almost erotic level of self-confidence (and perhaps self-absorption) that he didn't have prior. It was like his brain chemistry was beginning to get altered as well.

   The changes didn't stop at his chest though. His abdomen already began to ripple, skin and muscle bubbling and churning as yet more muscles were ready to sculpt themselves into existence. The fat around his stomach melted off, and rising from that were a set of abdominal muscles. They slotted forwards like drawers, just rows of abs sequentially unveiling themselves and hardening into yet more firm muscles to displace his once twinkish demeanor. Two, then four, then a six-pack set of abs, all finely built in a way that showed years of dedication. Although those were years that Mike had not toiled through. But as his sides burned, his abdominal muscles firmed up, and the front of his shirt continued to tear open even more, the sight of his more muscled form was causing more conflicting thoughts to form in his brain.

   His back continued to ache as the muscles in that region grew out. Yet again his shirt was filling up, and beneath that was a substantial formulation of mass that was forming in his trapezius muscles. Evidently that wasn't the only portion of his back that changed however as his spine was another major group of bones that got hit with the transformative pressure. A sensation that caused the discs in his spine to decompress and grow, elongating itself and granting Mike inches of height that would better work for his new proportions. This has caused the hem of his shirt to rise a bit and untuck itself from his jeans in the process.

   This sudden growth of height further disoriented the man, Mike having already been immensely discombobulated thanks to the intensifying fog that was forming in his brain. At this point he was already getting lost in the inspection of his body, his arm moving from squeezing his chest to tracing a finger down his cleavage. It further moved down to his abs, all fingers splaying outwards to touch and feel the strong six-pack that he had gained just moments ago.

   With all those years spent working out, it would be a waste not to feel those muscles you spent so long crafting~

   “Wuh… huh…?” Mike vocalized, eyes blinking in a daze. “I've never… worked… out…”

   For a second his brain registered his voice sounding different, sounding deeper, but his focus could only be on the statement said. How much of a contradiction it seemed to be. A fraction of him knew it was true, knew these muscles weren't here minutes ago or that he's never had the time or desire to gain such a form. Yet another growing part of him was telling him the opposite, that this is his body, his muscles, his everything. 

   Why deny such a form you've worked so hard on?

   “Mmmph…” Mike hummed, voice continuing to deepen and making it sound like a low rumble. His eye twitched a bit as he felt a bead of sweat roll near it and down his face. His hand trailed back upwards, not sure if it's himself controlling it or the unknown force, but it slowly moved up his abs and back to his pecs. And while he entered what could only be classified as a hypnotized state, the transformation continued the move its way downwards. His jeans tightened around his form as the diameter of his waist got larger, the first sign that it wasn't very long until the lower half of his body was consumed by the changes.

   The second sign was a stirring in his groin.

   Mike’s cheeks flushed as he felt the front of his underwear begin to fill out. A sizable bulge was steadily forming, his endowment increasing in size much like the rest of his body had. Such an occurrence was also forcing the zipper of his jeans to start to split open against this new bulge. At the exact same time, the seat of his pants was filling out as well. Gluteus muscles getting larger, some fat accumulating in the area more, all of which was making his butt a bit more prominent and round beneath his jeans. It strained the back of his pants a bit more which put more pressure on his jeans. A good few seconds passed before finally the button holding them couldn't last any longer and ripped itself out the eyelet, the fly of his jeans now fully open.

   That didn't end the torrent of pressure being put on his pants however. The transformation continued to cascade its way downwards, the man’s thighs being the next to thicken as heat surged in his leg muscles and forced his quads and hamstrings to grow in bulk and musculature. His calves practically burned as well as they practically ballooned out the back of the crus of his once skinny legs. Although at this point Mike’s lanky frame is now long gone, the last portion of it subsumed by muscle. The leg muscles of a man who knew how to train them, and who knew how to use them. This had also prompted another few inches to be added to Mike’s height as yet again the bones were shifted, strengthened, and extended beneath the muscle. The bottoms of the legs of his jeans steadily rode up his legs as a result, meanwhile the seams holding the sides together began ripping apart against his large muscularity.

   The last portion of his lower body that was left to change were his feet, that region already beginning to shift as the space in his shoes quickly got filled out. In mere seconds his feet grew in size to fit the proportions of the rest of his body, lengthening and widening at a rapid pace. It wouldn't be long until the toe caps of his shoes bulged as all his toes pushed forward into them and continued to do so more. The back of his feet dug into the heels of his footwear, meanwhile the sides rubbed up against the shoe’s sides. This had predictably caused a major discomfort in the area, Mike disorientatedly stepping forward a bit in some weird attempt to shake off the pressure. But it didn't end and his footwear continued to bulge, the leathery cloth of it creaking and splitting as his feet continued to grow inside them. The front was already beginning to split off from the sole at this point thanks to his feet’s longer length. However, in one fell swoop, the front of his shoes burst open with a loud rip piercing the air. His toes were now out in the open, their chunkier and almost blockier appearance now visible. But at this point the changes in his feet had come to an end, the rest of his shoes just barely holding on against the width of his feet.

   “Gghrrgh…” he groaned, his clothing feeling so uncomfortable against his larger body. “S-so small… unfitting… grragh…”

   He swallowed a lump forming in his throat. The burning at the side of his neck had almost faded at this point, the tattoo he had given himself having inked itself into his skin to the point of it being a real tattoo. Furthermore his neck was wider, diameter larger and the size thicker. It made his vocal cords tingle, his breaths continuing to get deeper and deeper before settling on a tone that was more masculine than it used to be. Rougher, tougher, and rugged sounding. Although it seemed due to the size of his neck the choker he wore snapped off and slipped off him.

   Show those strong muscles of yours, show that weak clothing of yours who's boss!

   Mike’s groping came to a halt at this point. The man lifted up his arm, a dumb smile forming on his face as he gave it a good fleeeeex and watched as the sleeve of his shirt tore against his bicep. “Awesome!”

   By this point the line of what was considered Mike and what was considered the strange force within him was blurring. The once foreign thoughts were becoming more proper, fitting for the person he was just about feeling he is. The new personality and mentality, one that felt more confident and stronger than he used to be. Although the concept of ‘used to be’ felt impossible. The more he stared at this strong form of his the more those earlier thoughts about this being his felt correct.

   “Heheh, this feels good!” he stated, no longer supporting himself on the doorway and giving his other arm a good flex to watch the sleeve on it shatter over his muscles.

   At this point the last set of physical changes were moving onto his face. As he smiled a pressure was wracking his skull, squeezing and sculpting his facial features into those of a completely different man. His skull structure got larger and wider, and with it his jawline reshaped and chiseled itself from the broadness. It almost protruded to the sides at this point. The way his jawline looked aided in shifting the way his skull physically appeared, the overall shape of his head looking boxy and rectangular. 

   With his jawline shifting, his once clean-shaven appearance got lost as black hairs poked out the skin of his chin. It started as a small amount rising from the tip of his chin, but that quickly spreaded across his lower jaw as a whole bunch more stubble dotted itself across the man’s jawline. Alongside that came more and more of his facial features getting shifted. The once rounded tip of his nose was getting pointier while the overall wideness of it narrowed a little bit. The brownish hairs of his eyebrows deepened to a dark black as they got thicker, bushier, and their appearance slanted until they gained an arched appearance. All of this had caused the previous appearance of Mike, the one that looked so worried and self-conscious, to be done away and morphed into the cocky visage of a new man that exuded raw confidence and self-assuredness!

   His hair was the very last part that turned. The browns of the follicles deepened to a perfect black. The length of it shortened and caused the overall messy and fluffy appearance to disappear at a rapid pace. In its stead came a more well kept, spiky style as clumps of his hair slicked back and jutted backwards. However, the hair at the back of his head jutted upwards, and all this spiking met at a focal point at a specific point at the apex of his skull. It gave his hair an organized look that somehow still appeared laid-back. All of this ended off with his sideburns thickening and trailing down the sides of his face before ending an inch or two above where his jawline would start.

   The same goofy yet confident smile on his face remained as he ran a hand through his hair and continued to admire a bicep. The man properly walked through the doorway and finally stepping into the living room. By now he didn't care about the discomfort in his clothing, and the questions of his identity were faded and buried beneath the knowledge that this is his identity. And for him he's always felt this way. So strong and assured of himself! He is talented skateboarder and actor, Lucas Lee!

   With that mental declaration in his head there came one last, albeit minor, change: his clothing. The cottony feel of his shirt hardened as a deep black oozed across the once pristine white. Everywhere the darkness spread on his shirt a leather feel was formed, and that continued to occur for the next few moments. The shirt itself grew in size as this happened, and the very appearance of it was shifted. Metal lined the ends of the button-up’s split as the remaining buttons slipped off and dematerialized. As the metal continued to form a bit of the shirt folded into a lapel that the metal continued to line the end of before teaching the peak of the lapel’s tip. 

   The shirt’s collar flattened and extended to better meet the lapel, and by this point the leather appearance had spread across the entire torso section of what was once a shirt. Although as the leather extended itself onto the torn sleeves and repaired them, extending them over his arms and snaking the sleeves so long until they were an inch beneath his wrists, it was proven that this was no longer a shirt. Instead it was a leather jacket now. The rest of his clothing had a much less impressive change however. His pants repaired themselves and grew to better fit him, the denim shifting from its rich blue to a deep gray. His shoes did exactly the same as well by extending over his feet, covering his toes and growing airier, before properly sealing themselves shut and recoloring from black to blue.

   With all of that finished the transformation had been solidified. All that was Mike was done away. His worries and concerns were cast, replaced with the confident persona of Lucas Lee. Although it was evident he got a lot more than just the persona.

   “Eh?” Lucas raised a brow, stopping his self-admiration as he realized where he was. “The heck am I? Whose house is this?”

   That question stayed important for about… two seconds before he decided he didn't care. “Whatever. Nobody’ll mind if I make myself comfortable for a bit!”

   He takes a seat on the living room couch, completely ignores the fact his pants were unzipped, and perches his feet on the small table in front of it. He was about ready to fold his arms behind his head and lounge here for a bit, but was stopped when he felt his phone vibrate in a back pocket. With a grunt he shoved a hand into it and pulled it out, although he noticed that the thing looked a lot different than he remembered it being.

   “Don't remember this having a gold case,” Lucas remarked as he pressed the power button to take it out of sleep mode. He would've realized the wallpaper was different from his usual as well, but his focus was on the singular message displayed on the screen.

Arti 💙 heading to your apartment now did you ever come up with someplace to actually go for our date??

   Lucas tilted his head. Date? Who the heck was this guy?? Come to think of it, whose phone even is this?! There were a lot of questions crossing the man’s mind, but in the end he decided to do the most logical thing and answer the text as if it were his own phone.

You nope

   With that Lucas put the phone back into sleep mode. He wasn't really sure who this Arti was or whose phone he was currently in possession of but truthfully he didn't really care all that much. He just felt like chilling out here for a bit before heading back out, probably for another late night skate session. Although after another few seconds a single thought crossed his mind.

   …who's to say that Arti fellow wouldn't be a good time?

   Lucas smiled. Perhaps he was going to be staying here for just a bit longer…

[knightyoomyoui]

The 1% Of Chances | TWICE Jeongyeon x Male Reader Fanfic: CHAPTER 9

Hellooo! Damn, it's been almost 8 months now since I haven't updated this book, and I almost forgot where I left off, which required me to re-read this book and the plot outline I made. Sorry for those who waited, but what's important now is that IT'S BACK, and I'm finally going to finish this to lessen the worklist I have on my drafts. We are now down to 3 chapters left, and so far, I'm also applying some little changes to the ending because I just thought of something better than the originally planned one.

Actually, there's nothing much going on here in the entirety of this chapter, but it serves as a short "calm before the storm" moment that will finally set us up for the climax down to the conclusion of the story.

Since Jeongyeon doesn't have a schedule for today—which includes you as her personal manager—you've both agreed to go somewhere more fun with your spare time rather than just spending it in the dorm.

She offered to drive you home in Jeongyeon's own vehicle, taking the wheel as soon as you were done loading. You were taken aback at first, but because it was her initiating the task, you didn't mind objecting and allowing her to proceed so as not to ruin her fun.

You sat at the passenger's seat next to Jeongyeon and laughed together before she started the engine and operated the vehicle, stepping on the accelerator to get you both to your first destination.

"Do you want me to play some music while you drive?" You asked her, aware at the fact that although you can find yourselves some topic to talk about throughout the ride, it might die down and make the atmosphere a bit boring and quiet.

"Sure." She quickly replied to you, agreeing to listen too. "Hey, wanna do some carpool karaoke?"

"Was that like doing a karaoke while in a car?"

"Nice catch, genius…?" Jeongyeon looked at you in a deadpan manner which caused you to be slightly embarrassed. "Ofcourse silly, you just reversed the name. And yeah, it's simply singing along while we're on a ride."

"Hmm sure, I'll take the male vocals."

"Nope, I want you to sing with me even if it's female." Jeongyeon shook her head.

"I can't sing that well, my voice isn't low pitch." You declined. "And… it's making me shy."

"What? Why? It's just the two of us come on." Jeongyeon whined as she bounced at her seat to express her disappointment. "I wanna see you sing along to some female led-songs."

"I don't sing one, I'm mostly into male-leds."

"You sure?" She side-eyed you. "Hmm then what about when I saw you having that Sabrina Carpenter song on your Spot-"

"Okay okay stop!" You became flushed as you didn't expect Jeongyeon would use this as a retort card to capture you on the corner. "Ugh, fine. But I was just curious about it because I've been hearing it a lot on my Insta feed so… I tried to give it a listen."

"It was a vibe actually." She agreed.

"Yeah it sounds so good. Don't know her that much but that's probably one of my songs I could use to cheer myself up."

"Should we listen to it?"

"Okay…" You were about to search for it on your playlist until you paused. "Wait, we're gonna sing too right?"

"Mmhmm.."

"But her voice was smooth there, I might ruin the song with my monstrous voice."

"Hey, who told you that?!" Jeongyeon knitted her brows in disapproval at the self-deprecating term you chose. "I always thought you'd be a great voice actor or something, and you probably had such a great deep voice. It doesn't even matter if you can't match the notes; all I want is for us to have fun. Just go with the vibe of the song, that's all."

Also, don't you want your partner to be happy?" She was teasing you, pouting her lips and making fun at you with her sulky attitude. You've noticed her habit, and it was too irresistable to ignore without being continuously obstinate.

"Okay, fine, I'm going to play it. Damn it, Jeong, you really know how my weak spot is." You clicked your tongue as you pinched her cheeks, which made her giggle like a little girl. As you played the music, both you and her sang along together. She did laugh at you, but not because of how horrible you sound as what you think of yourself. You were pretty average, and she was just reacting this way because she was obviously impressed by you.

After going through your third song, you noticed in the GPS tracker that you're shortly meters away from reaching the place where you are heading both. You've decided to share something that popped into your mind.

"This is honestly my second time of going here." You recalled. "I remember when me and my family used to come here way before I was young."

"How old were you back then?"

"Hmm… 17 I guess?" You said. "It was a celebration for my brother being an honor awardee in his school. I kinda missed going here, well I wanted to bit you know, time passes and we grow old enough and some interests don't stay with us forever. My brother is already at the right age and he doesn't feel to visit these sort of place anymore like he used to be. Well even if he does, we still wouldn't be able to do so anyway."

"Why so?"

"Broken family." You bitterly smiled. "It won't feel the same as before anymore."

Jeongyeon looked at you concerned and gripped your hand. "Sorry to hear that. Hey, let's stop talking about it if it'll make you comfortable. We're now here, let's not kill the mood alright?"

"Yeah, sorry Jeong. It's my fault."

"No, don't mind it. You just want to recollect some memories you had, and you know I'm willing to listen to your stories anytime you want. I'll be here if you need something to release within yourself okay?" She lightly punched you in the chest then ruffled your hair.

"Okay." You smiled nicely at her. She gave you a quick kiss on the lips after that, increasing your energy back at its full capacity for today.

"Let me park this big boy right here first." She said as she paid for the parking fee at the guard before proceeding to enter the vacant lot.

You and Jeongyeon got out of your car and took your stuff after finding a spot to park for a while. You take her hand obediently as she shows the tickets to gain entry into Lotte Park, your first of three destinations to have some alone time together. You strolled across the park's entrance afterwards.

She put on her mask to reduce the attention she might get from individuals who might recognize her as a member of TWICE and a K-Pop idol. Even if it means that she will have to give up her freedom to display her bare face in public, she doesn't want anyone to disrupt this moment with you. She doesn't care because, at this point, all that matters to her is to be with you today.

"Where should we head on first?" Jeongyeon said as she viewed the entire interior of the amusement park, the different rides, attractions, arcades and many more all visible in your eyes to choose.

"Hmm… I want to… I want to eat first."

"Yah, seriously?" She chuckled at you. "We just ate before going out of the dorm and now you're hungry again?"

"I love eating, you can't blame me."

"You're also unfair and unbelievable, you know? You eat this much and yet you don't get fat." Jeongyeon elbowed you on the stomach. "Alright, you male counterpart of Momo, what fast-food chain you want?"

"Some hotdog station will do."

"I'm easy to talk with, so let's go." She grabbed your wrist and pulled it with her like you're a child being dragged along by your mother.

Reaching the 2nd floor where the food section is at, both of you stepped in front of the hotdog station where you wanted to eat. She lets you choose the order first since you're the one who requested this, and you kindly obliged to it.

Minutes later, you have received your foods altogether and ate it while watching the visitors around the place, having fun in their own ways. Even at sightseeing was fun to do so with your carefree and adventurous girlfriend, there won't be an instance where she wouldn’t try to find something hilarious for both of you to share laughters with.

For instance, she was telling you how much the other members enjoyed hotdogs when she just broke out into laughter. She mentioned that she had just witnessed a dad stumble in front of the playhouse while chasing his child when you asked her why. Even though you may not have witnessed it directly, Jeongyeon's laughter is contagious enough to make you get along with her easily.

After emptying your hotdogs, Jeongyeon brought yourselves back onto the main business of going here in the park. You immediately said your first preference to try.

The couple has attempted almost the entire selection of rides, attractions, and arcades all around the main lobby of the park, leading to yourself being highly exhausted from the adrenaline, enthusiasm, and laughter you have both spent playing like crazy.

You two rest on a bench first to conserve your energy for the next destination. You volunteered to wipe Jeongyeon's sweat across her back and arms and also bought some cotton candy for you and her. Another brief conversation has passed through, and after making yourselves satisfied, you exit and ride the car again with her to head to the following location.

You took the wheel this time as you let Jeongyeon sleep for a while after she shared that she's feeling sleepy. It was a silent ride, so you reopened your playlist and played it at a minimal volume to avoid disrupting your girlfriend's peaceful sleep.

It took like 45 minutes to get to the Seoul Museum of History, which was your suggestion to visit with her since you have to learn the history of everything, from its origin to how it evolved and what it left for the next generations to either adapt or innovate with respect to the progress of time in our world.

You woke up, Jeongyeon, after successfully reaching the designatedplace. She nodded in response, and she did some adjustment of her look to prevent looking haggard outside from her sleep. Bringing your camera with you, she walked with you again with arms clasped on each other, accompanying you towards the entrance of the museum.

You happen to roam around and snap pictures of the items, people, and events that transpired or existed in South Korea with Jeongyeon as a keepsake of your time spent with her, and these areas are organized into categories via each floor. Additionally, Jeongyeon was amazed and intrigued by several fascinating informations you learnt about Seoul and South Korea as a whole.

Once you've finished looking over all of the artifacts, antiques, statues, and other items on exhibit inside, you tell Jeongyeon that your time is up and you may go on to your final destination and finish the day with her.

Driving under the sky of Korea, about to greet the nightfall with the gradual emergence of the bright moon and the soft transition of the clarity of the clouds to the darkness of the aerial perspective, you and Jeongyeon calmly watched the surroundings you two were passing while on the way there.

Sighting the familiar spot from the distance, it brought relief for the both of you that you have made through all of these safely and successfully, bringing much joy to each other. Parking the car again for the third time, you joined Jeongyeon to stroll with you around Seokcheon Lake Park, your final place to spend the remaining time available tonight with her.

Apart from the rows of cherry blossoms that surrounding them, both of them were thrilled to capture the stunning scenery that would be perfect for a lovely pair like you and Jeongyeon.

You have spotted a tteobokki cart and without hesitation, you bought each for yourselves and claimed an available bench in front of the lake as you take a break along with her.

"Oh… mhmm… wow. Tteobokki will always remain one of the greatest foods I've ever tasted." You complimented after chewing the rice cake and sipping its sweet and spicy sauce.

"I'm with you on that." She also took a bit again and hummed at how satisfying delicious it is. "We did shaped this day better as what we expected, right?"

"And we deserve this too, after such hectic schedule that we had from you. I just hope the girls are doing well too on their own." You replied.

"I'm most certain they are. They aren't choosy or like timid to try something to entertain themselves through their day off. They're basically easy to explore things as long as they develop interest to it." She said.

You finished your food and threw it at the nearby trash bin before returning beside your girlfriend and cuddle with her. While watching the reflection of the nightsky through the crystal clear water of the lake, you inserted a topic that suddenly crossed your mind.

"Jeongyeon, do you think we'll last long?"

She looks at you before returning her gaze back at the scenery in front of you two. You felt her shoulders shrug, but the way her arms clenched yours tighter is enough to confirm her answer.

"I don't know, but I really hope we do. We just have to commit ourselves to do anything that won't break our trust for each other."

"Yeah, and for me… I don't even think it's possible for neither one of us to fell out of love someday. Especially me, I really do love you a lot, Jeongyeon. So much that I think even after everything that may happen to us for better or for worse, my heart would always bring me back to you."

"Can tell the same as mine." Jeongyeon smiled and made her head more comfortable laying atop on your shoulder. "We'll either just leave the fate on us… or we create a fate of our own where no matter what happens, from the start until the end, it will still remain to be you and I forever."

"I really can't wait for our wedding in the future." You chuckled as you caress her hand, especially the finger that you would love to insert your engagement and wedding ring for her. "But about that… I still have something to accomplish first before we get through there."

Jeongyeon may have caught what you meant by that. "Are you sure about that, YN?"

"They definitely knew about our relationship now anyway, it's all around the news and internet. I say we must not take them too long waiting for us to confirm it ourselves."

"So you're ready now."

"Almost… but I can handle it. I-I'm a bit nervous still at what your parents are going to react."

"They have no problem with it when they confronted me about it. They're nice, YN. I'm sure you'll easily win their approval, I mean… you fit the qualities of what they like the most for a guy that will take their daughter to marry." Jeongyeon giggled and and blushed at that fact.

"So you mean they're not also against on you loving a non-celebrity guy like me?"

"Tsk, as if they give a damn about it." She rolled her eyes and stared at you a bit intensely. "Them and even I don't need somebody who is also popular to be told as my perfect match. I take love seriously, and what I need in return is somebody who can give me that pure and sincere. I'm not someone who prefers bragging a relationship because of our social status, I just want a man who is willing to love me for who I am inside and outside, and I found it from you, YN. Because of that, you have stolen my heart and gave me the feels."

She tried to be serious after admitting it all to you until she slowly cracks a laughter after she saw your expression noticing something suspcious.

"Wait a minute…" You also began to cackle with her. "Did you really just included a reference to The Feels?"

"Yah! I thought I was too slick for that." She conceded defeat. "But I said what I said, and you know I mean what I mean, YN."

You pulled her head against you and kissed her directly on the lips, which took some time for yourselves to separate as you encouraged her to move your mouths deeper to make your intimacy more passionate, just as you wanted it.

You leaned away for a second and stared deeply at Jeongyeon's sparkling eyes while brushing her pink tinted cheeks. "I know, Jeongyeon, and I'll always have it on my mind while I feel your love for me."

"Great, then get back here and let me give you more." She pulled your collar through her, forcefully inviting you back into another heated kiss of affection.

As they arrived on the dorm, you both tried to continue making out with each other when suddenly it got interrupted again when you felt a stinging pain again in your head returned from yesterday.

"YN what's happening to you?" Your girlfriend checks up on you as she observes you loose the hem of her shirt from your grip while you groan and crunch your face.

"It's hurting again…"

"What? Where is it?"

"My head." You said as you hold your skull to endure the kicking pain that causes you severe discomfort.

It made Jeongyeon alerted at your condition. She went through the first aid kit and looked for some painkiller pills and filled a glass of water before going back to you and instructed you to take it.

You followed her advice and she let you lay your head beside her neck as she cuddled you. She slowly laid you down on the bed with her and gently stroked your hair.

"Calm down, YN. It will be gone shortly. I think you're tired of everything we did today, so rest up for now okay?"

"Okay."

"There you go. Goodnight and love you." She kissed you on the forehead before she continues taking care of you.

"Love you too, Jeong. Goodnight."

Both of you went calm that it disappeared and the medicine worked atleast… although only for a while.

Two days later while you are currently helping the stylists who are applying make ups to Jeongyeon and cleaning all the managers' leftover food containers, another episode of pain attacked your head again. It became confusing and quite frightening to you that the more you're suffering from this, the more painful it gets compared to last time .

What's surprising was that it didn't also occur at night which was way earlier today, pointing that it also happens now at a random period of time.

“Unnie, he’s been like this since few days ago. I don’t know what to do.”

"Jeongyeon, join YN. I'll call emergency and JYP for a while." Sadness said as she hurriedly reported your condition to both of these important people that can hold responsibility for your currently worrying state.

She returned to the dressing room, passing through staffs and the other TWICE members who are heavily scared and worried for both of their friends. "The ambulance are on their way now. JYP also agreed and mentioned that he will pay some visit for YN afterwards."

"Thank you unnie." Jeongyeon nodded before she returned her gaze at you who is still clenching your body like a ball while gripping your head furiously in pain.

"Hold on for a while, YN. Okay? Help is coming. Please, I hope nothing bad must happen to you," she said as she started to get teary-eyed seeing the love of her life suffering in her arms.

The medical team arrived at the place a few minutes later and immediately rescued the poor YN, putting him on a stretcher while Jeongyeon insisted on joining her boyfriend's side on the way to the hospital.

She guarded you intently, watching you barely opening your eyes and weakly breathing, while the thoughts and feelings disturbing her were filled with fear and anxiety regarding your health.

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // forty-three

| @amuhav

next / previous / beginning

KYRIE: Elion? KYRIE: My hero. Fast asleep on the clock. ELION: And look, you’re stood there without a scratch. This job is so easy I can do it with my eyes closed. TAYUIN: You should take it more seriously. If he’s hurt, it’s on you. ELION: Fiery little faerie, aren’t you? Are you going to start barking if I get too close? KYRIE: Knock it off. ELION: I’ll assume your sour moods means this was a fully clothed outing? How unfortunate for me. Next time I tell you to loosen up, do take it literally. KYRIE: scoffs We’re going back now. ELION: Sure, sure. Lead the way, Oh Moonlit One. KYRIE: Thank you for coming out with me, and for… the other thing. TAYUIN: It was no trouble. KYRIE: There’s still time before the next trial, if you want to talk about… anything… well, you know where to find me. TAYUIN: It was nice. KYRIE: What? TAYUIN: It was a nice day, before, well, you know… But, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed the time away. KYRIE: I’m really glad. ELION: I’ve never found conservative types like you interesting. So very measured and polite about everything. If you love the little winged beastie, you should say so loudly and with great vigor. KYRIE: I’m not in love with Tayuin. ELION: Are you very sure about that? KYRIE: Why do you care so much, anyways? ELION: I don’t. Just casually reminding you yet again that this could all be over tomorrow. KYRIE: What do you mean? ELION: You’re being hunted, remember? Or have you already forgotten why I’m here? I expect you’ve come to realize the significance of it. Instead of sending your pets to do your dirty work, you could try simply asking. KYRIE: You… know Tay stole the ransom letter. ELION: Of course I know. Your High Priestess might not be privy to your scheming, but that’s because it’s my job. And frankly, I’m getting exhausted giving out all these opportunities for you to be honest with me. KYRIE: Not only are you highly observant, you’re also annoyingly intuitive. ELION: An elf of many talents, if you will. KYRIE: Then, enough about my honesty. How about you be a little more forthcoming? What do you know of the Knights of Dawn? ELION: I know they’re a disgruntled bunch of agitators that have become a particularly obtuse thorn in the church’s side as of late. KYRIE: Who are they? ELION: No one knows. All members of this group keep their true identities strictly confidential. They work as an anonymous, but highly organized unit. Their abduction of your sister was likely months in the making. And considering just how well-guarded you lunar priests are, it’s almost certain they’re working off of inside information. KYRIE: They’ve infiltrated the clergy? ELION: Mm, without a doubt. It’s rather problematic, if I’m honest. Spreading panic is only a fraction of the problem; The more people who know about the plot, the more risky it becomes when any and everyone is a possible suspect. KYRIE: Then, it’s no wonder they called in an anori. Your rank alone acts as deterrent. ELION: And you’re very lucky I’m here, but do I get a single thank you? I’m underappreciated! (sob sob) KYRIE: Then, this was their scheme all along. Wait for an opening to take one of us, and use them as a bartering chip. ELION: Yes, but you two have the unfortunate advantage of being twins. For their plan to work, they have to take the spare off the table. KYRIE: And if the church doesn’t agree to their terms? ELION: It’s a small mercy they’re offering with the ransom. The High Priestess knows this well. It is more than sure your sister will not survive this, all she can do is be certain that you do.

[hamliet]

Beauty and the Beast, But Make It BL

Or, about a year after the hype Hamliet finally watches KinnPorsche properly instead of just clips.

My overall thoughts are that I really, really enjoyed it. The characters were likable and interesting, and plenty flawed. The story also had some really fascinating ideas and nice fire, water, and air symbolism, as well as a really beautiful retelling of Beauty & the Beast. The main couples all foiled one another in interesting, thought-provoking ways. VegasPete? Is one of my favorite love stories in any media ever.

The side characters were also really well done, for the most part. I loved Kinn's friends, and Yok was a standout in terms of her mentorly role. And, the other bodyguards each got their own personality. Arm and Big were particular standouts to me, and I appreciated how Big's story arc (his unrequited love for Kinn) was handled: with subtlety, but thematic impact. His sacrifice showed Porsche that love sometimes involves sacrificing for the person you love.

The series also used symbolism fairly well. The lighting always changed to colored/rainbow lighting when it was a romantic scene, and stayed natural when it was not. The use of mirrors and windows, and phoenix/fire with Kinnporsche and water with Vegaspete, was intelligently woven into the story. I do think some of the symbolism was too heavy-handed at points, though.

Of course, because I'm me, I do have quite a few critiques as well, which mostly has to do with what I saw as potential that went untapped. The story never did anything "wrong" exactly, but it just never dug into how much potential it had. The foiling was strongly set up, but it could have been far more powerful than it was.

The plot was basically *vibes* which I'm okay with because I'm not super into plot in general, but unfortunately, as can happen when plot is weak, the themes suffered for it. If plot is a tour guide through a story's themes and characters, this was somewhat of a bumbling one... with an occasional stroke of brilliance that reinforced how satisfying the potential was.

Kinn + Porsche

Let's start with the main couple. I really enjoyed their characters, but I wasn't as invested in them as I was in the other characters I'll be covering. They seemed more like ideas rather than human beings, even though they had more complexity than some of the other, more human characters. While that might sound contradictory, what I mean by that is that the other characters always had drive and purpose for the narrative, while Kinn and Porsche sometimes felt more like vehicles (heh, get it, because--) to get to something that never quite arrived.

Kinn and Porsche also started off the series really strong, but weakened after they got together. After they were together, the writers kept bringing up the issue of "trust" between them, but I wasn't quite sure what they were trying to say about trust. And maybe they were just trying to explore the different sides of trust rather than give any particular message, but I thought it was a bit messily handled.

Still. Still. Porsche's line in the final episode, where he pointed out to Kinn that he was there not because he was on the minor family's side, nor because he was on the major family's side, but because he was on Kinn's side, was beautiful.

Kinn also starts off as a dark foil of Vegas... which is interesting because Vegas is so intensely jealous of Kinn and wants to be like him, and is set up as the antagonist. But we'll get there. Vegas kidnaps Porsche and attempts to make it look like he was assaulted, but Kinn saves him... only to assault Porsche himself. (I did appreciate the way the narrative did frame it well, which I wasn't expecting in a boy's love story.) Kinn then compounded it by punishing Porsche for his mistake--essentially, doing to Porsche what Vegas was doing to Kinn and would later do to Pete.

The irony, of course, is that the narrative still frames Kinn as a protagonist, but without giving him a halo. We're allowed to see that he is, intrinsically, no better of a human being than Vegas. Maybe even worse, depending on how you judge.

Porsche outright telling Kinn that he had hurt him, while Vegas hadn't (even if, kinda) and Kinn actually having to work to earn his forgiveness and trust--all of this was well handled.

Kinn's final realization in the wilderness that he could not keep Porsche and his act of selflessly setting him free , followed by a literal sacrifice, mimics what Vegas would have to do in later episodes with Pete, as well.

When they consensually have sex for the first time, it starts because Vegas again makes a move on Porsche... right in front of a mirror. Then, Kinn bursts in and Vegas leaves, and Kinn takes his place in the mirror with Porsche.

The symbolism is clever here and poignant: Kinn, you are Vegas. I just wish he had been asked to do more with that realization, particularly after the Tawan incident (later).

Again, my main issue is that I wish the show had more an idea of what it wanted to say concerning the theme of "trust" between these two. Especially after they got together, it all seemed a bit hazy.

The theme that was best explored with them was the idea of being a human being. Porsche continually insists that he's a person who decides his future for himself, while Kinn is like "I control your life; your life is mine, I can kill you at any time because you're just a bodyguard" early on. However, towards the end of the series, when they exchange quasi-wedding vows in one of the final scenes on a ship on the same river where Kinn first offered Porsche a job and Porsche told him he'd rather drown, there's a really beautiful moment where Kinn tells Porsche that they are making a new family together, and Porsche tells him again that he's not on any family's side--just Kinn's side. And then he tells him:

Porsche: All my life... is yours Kinn: I promise you, I'll treasure it.

It's almost fairy tale esque in this scene, showing how far they've come. It also emphasizes that the point is that Kinn recognizes Porsche's humanity, and Porsche still affirms his own. Humanity is not a drawback but a benefit, because Porsche chooses Kinn, and choice is the realm of human beings.

Vegas + Pete

*screams* VEGASPETE ARE EVERYTHING

But honestly. I've talked how Vegas (who is, undoubtedly, the best written character) foils Kinn and will talk about Tawan, Kim, and Tankhun later on. Firstly, though, we have Vegas and Pete, asking the main thematic question of this series:

(As a human, of course. Except that's not easy.)

Vegas was so clearly my favorite type of character (Lee Yut-Lung from Banana Fish, Akutagawa Ryunosuke from Bungo Stray Dogs, Illumi Zoldyck from Hunter x Hunter, etc.) Someone who just so, so desperately wants to be loved, especially by his father, and cannot fathom why he does not have it. So he lashes out at everyone around him, especially those he's jealous of. He might claim that he's jealous of Kinn's power, but he's really jealous that Kinn is loved not just by Porsche, but by his brothers, by his bodyguards, even by his father (for all Korn's faults--and we're gonna get there--I do think Korn loves his sons).

This is so profoundly seen when Vegas initially kidnaps Pete and forces him to call his Grandma. Vegas leans in, groping Pete to make him terrified, but as soon as Pete tells his grandma he loves her, Vegas jerks back and rips the phone out of his hand. It's another reminder to Vegas that love exists, but he can't have it.

The only thing that truly shows Vegas love is his hedgehog... which of course is a symbol for Vegas himself (here's where I think the symbolism was too heavy-handed--not that he had a hedgehog nor what happened with it, but in that Pete actually bluntly tells him that he is the hedgehog. Leave it to your viewers, we're smart enough to get that.) The hedgehog, of course, is prickly and spiky but soft inside, just like Vegas.

The hedgehog is also specifically Vegas's inner child, in Jungian terms. It's always sick and dying, and he's afraid of it dying, but also afraid to actually recognize it. He doesn't name the hedgehogs because they always die. This is symbolizing how Vegas never really had a childhood, or the chance to develop normally. His father always beat it out of him and let him think that it was his fault, just like Vegas blames himself for the hedgehogs' deaths.

Vegas's father is the biggest obstacle in his growth. He can't ever truly grow up and overcome the father figure until his father's gone. Again, the symbolism is pretty blatant (but well done): Vegas is literally reading the novel Childhood's End, but his father slaps it out of his hand.

The message is clear: Vegas can't ever grow up until he lets go of his father. Fittingly, he's then seen reading the book again after making a meal for Pete.

Vegas and Pete are actually quite similar, not just in their terrible dads, but in that both of them, at their core, truly don't believe they are human beings. They don't believe they deserve love, or life, or anything. They're animals. Hence, Pete actually being called a pet is actually also Vegas pointing out how he sees himself.

But what they really want is to be human, which means to be free and to live.

Consequently, both Vegas and Pete are suicidal. Vegas drops about a million hints that he wants to die before he actually attempts it, even telling Pete he's feeding him so "you'll have energy to kill me."

Vegas self-harms too, and Pete tells him not to. Yet, after they have sex, Pete hits himself when Vegas can't see, telling himself that he didn't like it, even though he initiated. The reason they are both lost after they have sex is that neither of them are free physically or emotionally.

We see Vegas trying to do the right thing and making a fancy meal for Pete, even standing up to his father for a moment, only to have his father tell him he wishes he wasn't his son. At that added cruelty, Vegas smashes the meal he made, proving that even though he thought he was free of his father because he was in love with Pete, he wasn't. Not yet.

And Pete thought he was going to be free because of sex with Vegas, but Vegas still left him chained. Hence, he attempts suicide in front of Vegas. He also then calls Vegas out on everything in a well-done way, pointing out that Vegas is projecting his feelings of inhumanity onto him:

Need me? Like a pet with no feelings for emotional projection? I'm a human, Vegas... I have nothing left, not even my humanity.

Pete is then pointing out to us that after Vegas's childhood is grieved (shown in how Pete helps Vegas bury and put flowers at the hedgehog's grave), Pete embodies Vegas's humanity. If the hedgehog and his childhood should be grieved, because he'll never get them back, he can still have a human future in Pete. But to do that he has to embrace his inner humanity, and he cannot chain it up and take it out when he wants it, because that's just not how human beings work.

Even through making Pete realize and admit just how miserable he was--that he has no use and should just die, thereby showing Vegas that Pete truly does understand how Vegas feels--Vegas doesn't find what he thought he'd find. It's not comforting to be empathized with when it means someone you love is suffering so.

Vegas's apology to Pete is genuine, like Kinn's earlier, and heartfelt. Once his dad is dead, you'd really think he'd be free, but he's very much not. All his self-loathing, all his worst fears, have finally come true. Freedom isn't really found through death, but through embracing life and love. The hedgehog didn't have to die for Vegas to live, because death isn't freeing really. But choosing to live, even when you're in pain, for someone you love--that can be freeing.

Pete's "there is no legacy so rich as honesty" tattoo is somewhat amusing to me, because the quote comes from Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well, a play that is considered a "problem play," in that no one can quite decide what genre it is. Also, "honesty" in the play's context is actually "virginity," which also seems to fit, but anyways. The genre/problem play thing is interesting because Kinnporsche itself, as a show, seems to zig-zag between whether it's a comedy, romance, or serious crime drama. I think the reference is somewhat meta, but should have been delved into more.

The play is also relevant in that All's Well That Ends Well is about families, too--particularly how sons struggle to define themselves when it comes to being compared to their fathers, and how they react when they feel like they have limited choices in life. Hrm, hrm, Vegas.

Anyways, Vegas and Pete totally deserved their beautiful ending. When Vegas wakes up post being shot and tells Pete:

You're not my pet. You're the most important person in my life.

It's a great way to tie the themes of their arcs together. Firstly, it is a fairy tale ending. Secondly, it's an affirmation of Pete's humanity, the thing they both doubted they had. Lastly, it's affirmation that Vegas chooses Pete, and in choosing, affirms his own humanity. That Macau then bursts in calling Pete his brother-in-law and welcoming him to the family is adorable and shows Vegas just how much he has.

Kim + Chay

So now that we've talked about two self-destructive emotionally constipated men, let's talk about the other one in the other major relationship: Kim.

Kim's actor does a great job of showing how Kim maintains a veneer of cool aloofness when Chay confronts him, but is internally panicking. Kim is reckless, running into battle to save Chay in literally nothing but a tank top. When Chay calls him on who he is, Kim doesn't even try to defend himself. When he saves Chay again at Yok's bar, he makes sure Chay doesn't even notice.

Unlike Kinn and Vegas, who are too active and possessive, Kim is too passive and cowardly. He cuts himself off from people not because he doesn't love them--he clearly does--but because he feels like he's bad luck. Essentially, the same issue Chay has--that he feels like he brings bad luck.

But, that's not how life works. Human beings don't bring good or bad luck. It depends on choices, another theme from Vegaspete and Kinnporsche that wasn't delved into as deeply as it should have been. Still, choice is an integral part of being human, and the show does depict this.

Still, it was a nice touch to literally have Kim wear a shirt with the word "human" on the front the same episode Pete insists "I'm a human, Vegas." Pete, of course, tells Vegas he has choices to make, and Vegas then tells Porsche that same thing in the final episode: that it's time to make a choice.

Anyways. The unfortunate thing is that the series didn't fully explore Kimchay in the same way they did Vegaspete. That's especially clear in the cliffhanger ending, though I think it was fairly clear that they were heading towards something positive. After all, Kim finally does something he needed to do: saying outright that he is singing for Porchay. Keep working, boy.

On a production level instead of narrative, I'm guessing the actor's ages may have played a role in them not fully exploring their story. Idk. I think the implications--the fade out with a way-too-dramatic kiss on the cheek that the fade obscured and them waking up together--were that they were sleeping together, but because of the actors' ages they clearly cannot and should not show that. But I wish the writers hadn't let that limit them--there are other ways to show growth and explore issues even if you can't directly use sex to do so. See, the sex scenes between Vegas and Pete and Kinn and Porsche were well done, and always had interesting meaning and commentary to them, which is great. I just wonder if they let the fact that they couldn't use this motif stifle their creativity when it came to exploring Kim and Chay's issues.

Tawan

Tawan's story was heartbreaking. He was a fairly well done, pathetic antagonist. When Vegas proposed to him, knowing tha the didn't love Tawan... that broke my heart. He was suicidal and his death ultimately foreshadowed what Vegas would later attempt to do.

But Tawan was desperate for love--truly desperate. He would do anything to be loved by Kinn, by Vegas, by anyone. But it wasn't really love for a specific person (as shown in how he switches from Kinn to Vegas) so much as that he wanted to feel safe in that love. Because denying love means denying safety, which sets him up as a good foil for Kim (who clearly thinks it's safer for your loved ones not to act like you love them)... but it wasn't ever explored.

Tawan's desperate love also foiled Chay. Yet unlike Tawan, and unlike Kim, Chay is able to express what he wants... and to assert himself when he's been disrespected and not seen as a full human being (Kim seeing him as just Porsche's brother is what breaks him).

Tankhun

Tankhun was everything. I love him. I think they could have done more with him, especially around his relationships with his brothers. Like. We only see the three brothers--Kinn, Tankhun, and Kim--in the same room ONCE in the final episode. Once! A crime, a crime, I tell you! I know next to nothing about how all three of them feel about each other and interact with one another and I WANT IT!

Ahem.

Tankhun is still, in many ways, the beating heart of the series. He wears love and his feelings on his fabulous, colorful, patterned, and often feathered sleeves. He chooses to live how he wishes, but will do things for those he loves.

He's also always right, if you pay attention--he knows Gun is bad news, and he knows Pete is in danger while Kinn and Porsche are inexplicably dumb as hell for not suspecting Pete was in danger. When Pete reappears and Tankhun literally thinks he's a zombie, he still rushes to embrace him even so, just because he loves him.

Also, Tankhun is, much like Pete and Chay, fairly pure of heart. I don't mean that in a naive way, but it's clear Tankhun is somewhat childlike because of his trauma... yet, he's still the one who adopts fish and gives them names like Elizabeth and Sebastian and mourns them. He loves his siblings, and he welcomes Chay like a new brother.

The Little Mermaid reenactment with Porsche was A Lot, but also hilarious and fitting. See, he's childish, so of course he's going to like fairy tales. He knows the world isn't one, but he still enjoys ones and wants stories where the good ones don't die, and he does his best to live a fairy tale despite everything. I really think the series should have dug into this more, especially since Kinn and Porsche and especially Vegas and Pete are very clearly modeled after Beauty and the Beast. Sigh. The potential.

Not gonna lie, I think the brother relationships were somewhat failed all throughout. Macau and Vegas's bond wasn't fully explored either, and neither was Porsche and Chay's. Like, Porsche doesn't even know about Kim and Chay, and Chay had told him about being tutored by Wik, so... wouldn't he at least ask? Sigh.

Korn

So, ironically, the brotherly relationship best fleshed out is... Korn and Gun's.

Theirs is highly tragic, and the relationship they have with their foster sister is also clearly a warning to Kim, Kinn, and Tankhun about what they could become if they prioritize the power of the mafia family over each other and their own rights to make their choices and live and love. It seems like that won't happen, given Kim and Chay and Porsche as the minor family head and Kinn, fortunately, but again I think this could have been more clearly explored.

Like, if love, both romantic and platonic and familial, offers a way forward, a potential answer (though no guarantee, see Tawan), which I think the show suggested, it should have been more heavy-handed in showing us. This also actually ties into the fairy tale motif, and the human being theme, and choice, and it just could have been so much more neatly braided together than it was. And also it works with the trust motif, because you can't control someone you trust.

I do really appreciate the ambiguity about Korn, and the uneasy lack of answers about what really happened between Korn, Gun, and Namphueng. On the one hand, Gun's utter cruelty to Vegas and Macau makes it seem more than plausible that he's the worst and he did assault Namphueng and kill her husband. On the other hand, seeing Korn murder Namphueng's husband would surely explain the vitriol he has towards Korn that seems unusually intense even for someone consumed with envy and jealousy.

I think it's clever that the series doesn't answer it for us. Even when Korn kills Gun in the end but chooses to tell his guards not to harm Vegas, despite the fact that Vegas just killed a bunch of his most loyal men, and promises to protect Vegas and Macau, we're left wondering. Is this proof that Korn is indeed the merciful man who would never have harmed Namphueng and her husband? Or is it the actions of a cruel man who killed his own brother and then told his kids not to worry because he'd provide for them, just like he did with Posrche and Chay?

Alas, what would have made this even more powerful would be an emphasis on what trust is supposed to mean... sigh.

Final Thoughts

Overall, I really enjoyed the show. I loved the characters and the three main ships. It had great ideas that could have been better explored.

Also of note: from its lighting to staging of certain scenes, it also clearly took inspiration from Queer as Folk, which is one of my favorite stories ever, and there were some potential Crime and Punishment references in Pete talking to Vegas in a scene that mimicked Sonia and Raskolnikov.

Basically, it was designed for me to fall for it, and fall for it I did. I just wish it had been refined, because it could have also been a masterpiece in addition to being entertaining (yes, really), but alas, didn't quite get there. Still, I'd definitely recommend it.