#what plot doesn't include character?

[mollysunder]

The Medarda arc of s2 struggled to be good, because the plot viciously smothered it. You can argue that Arcane was never about politics but you cannot say the Medardas were never explicitly a family defined by politics. So when the show shifted it's priorities from a drama steeped in political conflict where even though the setting was fantastical the stakes were grounded to a shift where magic is the end all be all threat to humanity, the Medardas are rendered largely irrelevant.

In s2 Mel's agency over her own story is both largely stripped from her and poorly communicated. Arcane has Mel abducted from the plot to be the Black Rose's captive. Even when Mel manages to free herself it's not through the traits the audience understands are her strengths, her cunning and social intelligence, it's through an innate instinct that natural to her and indecipherable to the audience.

Ambessa as a character is more or less a villain of convenience, which would be fine if she wasn't immediately following Silco's act. Once Mel is removed from the story Ambessa is largely disconnected from any emotional tension fuels conflict between the characters and previously drove the plot in s1. She's there to play the worse bad guy for Caitlyn and then give Viktor the man power for the Glorious Evolution.

It's frustrating to see the Medardas used the way they are in s2 because when they're together I can see how it could be good. When they're together Mel forces emotion out of Ambessa. In Act 1, Ambessa proved she could do circles around Piltover's court, which could actually put Mel in a tight spot.

Their final scene on paper sounds like a good idea where the true resolution to Mel and Ambessa's story was that Ambessa saw Mel's own ruthless behavior as she not only betrayed Ambessa to the Black Rose, but used her as BAIT to double cross LeBlanc. Ambessa died proud that her daughter killed her the way she did, and that's so cool and tragic, but the execution was a flop.

One, their final fight is completely unimportant to the actual Glorious Evolution, Mel's grief can't even be a highlight because it's interrupted by Viktor's mind trap. Two, their fight didn't rely on any of Mel's actual strengths, just magic and the poorly explained MacGuffin LeBlanc gave her. How did Mel even know it would do that?

It's like the writers had the bones for a great story for the Medardas, but then they're like the world's worst archeologists and fit those bones together in the worst way possible because they were convinced the bones made a stegasaurus instead of a T-rex or something.

[eyes1nthewoods]

the fact that in his best ending lann just stops being chief after the worldwound closes btw.

[arolesbianism]

Just realized I forgot to post these

[ovyy-pvcure]

Ok well nobody asked but I'm bored so wild transmigration Naruro au borne of madness go.

So first things first Kishimoto made one gigantic mistake and that was making and naming a bit character that's easy to do the whole 'dead modern human pops into the body of a canon character' thing.

^ That's Tobio who shows up exactly once in the entire series at the start to accidentally knock Naruto off balance and kick off literal decades of shipping. This convinent oc stand in blank canvas is the turning point of the au that means when he accidentally dies as a result of that one off-canon event the universe* steps in and sticks a random schmuck in place to keep things basically on plan. There's, like, prophesies to fullfill (and cosmic schemes going on). Which is why and how a late age teenager finds themselves stuck in a 12 year old's body ("it matches your emotional age") after an unfortuante accident with nothing but the basi s of chakra and history downloaded to their brain and no psrsonal memories of the new body to call on. Oh, and a cheery "good luck" before getting dropped into basicially the start of the plot just before team allocation. Where, as the top student in the "espionage and subterfuge" class he's assigned as the final member of team 7.

To give the basic skeleton of what's taken shape in my head already the first arc would follow tobio as he tries to wrangle the cats known to the public as Sasuke and Naruto without actually letting anyone know he has literally no memory of anything that's happened to him before a couple months ago. Oh and surviving the grueling change of lifestyle inherent in becoming a Child Soldier. He's doing Great this arc. Not stressed At All as he tries to juggle managing his teammates' egos with getting stronger because he has none allies or parents or connections to fall back on if he stumbles.

Well he thinks so anyway he's Kakshi's favorite adorable little student because he's the one who keeps pulling NaruSasu apart and making them actually, you know, cooperate. Naruto likes him because tobio treats him like a person and Sasuke at least appreciates that he doesn't have a fangirl in his squad and he's even focused on getting better so no deadweight. Also Mizuki's hovering around asking how he's progressing and if he feels ready which is odd since wasn't Mizuki beaten to an inch of life for all that treason he was up to? Well, not tobio's problem.

If you're curious how tobio died so is he! He can't remember; he was just told in the void of space time that he had an accident, died and now he's getting shipped off to 12 year old boot camp. What he does know is his own sarcastic rebellious wit has nothing on the universe's* considering it called him a quote "sarcastic bitch" as it did the whole transmigiration thing.

Blah blah blah team building, lunch at ichiraku's using future knowledge to climb trees early the usual oc stuff up until Wave. Things even go kind of normal up until the city is reached where kakshi's chakra lesson gets more than a little derailed by tobio already knowing how to do the whole shebang. Instead of being sent off to guard the bridge he suggests Naruto do so with clones since he's been thinking of a way to make use of his specialized training and making this mission truly worth Konoha's time.

A reoccurring element of the first arc is that the people around him not really knowing the OG Tobio that well is a boon his training in espionage is also guiding tobio to keeping his own secrets under wraps. tobio wants to infiltrate Gato's orginization and siphon money directly into The Leaf's coffers as recompense for making it impossible for the village to get properly paid from the outset. Besides Zabuza's gonna kill Gato so it's fine. Kakshi is against it but can't deny the logic and concedes but insists tobio's top priority is his contiuned survival.

Due to all the miscellaneous ne'er do wells romping about it's easy for a trained Ninja to slip in and start liberating ryo for Konoha (and maybe some for Wave while he's at it). Things contiune apace until The Bridge Showdown where in the confusion tobio once again slips into the waiting horde of Goons. Right next to Gato. Kyubi chakra comes with a weird feeling alongside the terrifying bloodlust from Naruto himself and tobio seizes the opportunity to take out Gato himself before the order to fire on Zabuza can be given.

In the temporary silence we have a dying Haku, a dead Gato and a disguised tobio skipping out of the goon squad cheerfully announcing Gato's plan to shoot everyone left on the bridge dead before his interference and daring anyone to contradict him. They can't mostly because the small child with blood dripping off their knives has scared them silent, and instead of fighting they flee with a furious Zabuza in pursuit. Haku doesn't survive but Z does to contiune his bloodly plans for revolution but now without his restraining bolt. This will cause problems for our heroes later. But for now Wave is a success and only one of the children has killed anyone in cold blood. Only Kakashi is worried about this. Oh and all the builders who are now wary around the killer kid who mocked and psychologically attacked his victims first. Victory all around!

Kakashi can not get the privacy needed to properly talk to his genin about the thing he did until they're back in Konoha where he overhears Mizuki grilling his student for details on the mission and dropping info he really shouldn't be re: the kyubi, and implying Tobio was meant to somehow harm Naruto. Which is the conversation that tips tobio off to the divigerence which is that oops Tobio was doing himself a Treason. Thankfully tobio is a fully trained fluent liar who reports to Mizuki that he never had a chance to harm Naruto and that, no, there was no hint of the Kyubi both of which are lies the eavesdropping Kakashi catches but isn't sure what to make of. tobio himself is basicially flying by the seat of his pants as he describes Sasuke's growth and personality even as he internally starts to panic as he realizes just how epically Screwed he is since he also doesn't know Kakashi is there, and now Mizuki and Tobio's treason is his problem. Crap.

A sweep of his apartment has tobio finding a journal of his days in the academy where one day Tobio reports Mizuki pulling him aside and pointing out he'll be lucky go get a proper jonin teacher and get out of the genin corps if he continues on the normal path but Mizuki has a solution since he feels so bad for another orphan of the Kyubei attack. His new plan is to join the E&S course the so called "kunoichi class" and with Mizuki's help-all helpfully noted down by Tobio and utterly obviously manipulative to tobio-he can ace that and get put on a star team with a good future. With Sasuke he means so someone can keep an eye on the Uchiha for Orochimaru. The journal also veers off into a hateful anti-Konoha rant at the revealation of Tobio's parents killer's continued existence and favortism from the Third via Naruto. However misguided a start by the time of graduation testing Tobio had been perfectly groomed into Mizuki's personal spy who had a sneering relief that he could leave Konoha and a dead Naruto behind after they secured the scroll for their actual master.

Well, to be forewarned is to be forearmed as they say, and no one else in the village has as much foreknowledge as tobio who thinks it's high time he got serious and picked put a proper name for himself: Otogiri Tobio sounds perfect.

Otogiri doesn't know Kakashi knows even half of this but luckily neither does anyone else yet. While the poor scarecrow man tries to figure out just what is happening without directly confronting a possible traitor in his own squad even as political pressure mounts to prove one of Konoha's founding clans has a strong future by putting Sasuke (and his squad they guess. Whatever.) into the chuunin exam. With an effective A rank under their belt and Otogiri's proliferation of funds Kakashi would need a pretty sound reason not to bend to the council's "suggestion" and he doesn't want to leave the boys alone with a possible traitor but he also doesn't want T&E descending on his student for maybe nothing. So in they go causing the domino effect that ends with the K9 (sans sakura plus Otogiri) all enrolled in the annual deathmatch.

Ignorant of all this back door politicking going on Otogiri's already gearing up for the Invasion. Chuunin exams? Sure he's signed up the squad's in. Whatever. He's got bigger problems including Mizuki dropping in and telling him to meet up and assist the incoming Sound kids. No one notices the dog watching this play out not that Mizuki's sloppy enough to say anything outright but Otogiri catches the subtext, but also sees a chance to start turning the tables on that creep. After all Orochimaru already wants Sasuke, and Naruto's becoming pretty strong himself maybe they should pull everyone in?

So on the prophesied day squad 7 is coincidentally in place to welcome and show around the teens from the newly founded village of Sound. Otogiri is a little concered but the thing about Naruto is that yes he's loud and arrogant and annoying and has to be physically wrestled into bathing regularly but he's charismatic enough for all that to be liked anyway. And Zaku? Is loud and arrogant and definitely had to be wrestled into a bath at least 5 times so he likes the kid, and their friendly little mole's hinting that he's not been treated great by the Leaf so why not get along and lead the kid astray? Could be fun.

Kin has a headache. She's met louder blonde Zaku and she wants to Die about it. She and Sasuke bond over it as they have to quiet the duo down.

Dosu is amused by Kin's discomfort and Zaku's weirdly instant attachment, but as long as they serve their duty he's fine with it. They're the best the Sound has to offer that could pass as genin. The mole worries him a little, he's a little too quick witted and sharp to feel like he's really their ally and he never says anything to give him a hint of where he lies beyond the veiled code phrase he introduced himself with to mark him as the Tobio they were supposed to meet. The blonde's infectious energy and loudness doesn't leave him exposing weaknesses in the village, and The Uchia clearly looks down on their little village. Well he'd change his mind about that once the rest of his squad turned on him or Dosu would have the personal pleasure of wiping the smug off his face.

Otogiri is not having a great time he has a little over a month to get Dosu to trust him so he can derail Orochimaru's chess style pawn sacrifice strategy for his own shogi inspired pawn theft strategy. Some people might claim using alternate universe future knowledge is cheating. Otogiri would claim that he's trying to outwit someone who even with his ages combined has 20 years minimum on him so really he needs every advantage he can get. Especially because Dosu is so damn distrusting that getting an in to try and make the older boy waver on his desire to gain glory is harder than making Sasunaru work together back in the first arc.

Blah blah blah chuunin exam stuff test speech forest of death. Where Otogiri realizes there was a fight with Rock Lee but no declaration of lust from him without Sakura. And he has no connection to Ino beyond her sort of hating him for stealing what she thinks should be her place. No it doesn't matter Sakura outranked her, Otogiri's on the wrong end of Ino's many grudges and eventually despite his best efforts he winds up with an unconscious chakra dampened Naruto and a freshly Cursed Sasuke. No allies forthcoming and probably 3 teens expecting an easy kill on their way. To be killed to make Sauske stronger.

Otogiri must once again consider that actually The Universe* is just screwing with him. With a bit of deception, luck, and just plain knowing more than he should Otogiri convinces the trio when they show up they're not really meant to try and kill Sasuke it's all a test of how wisely they can act on a mission. He bluffs that Mizuki told him what The Master could do and how he marked Sasuke betting on Dosu at least managing to link Curse Seals and their Effects on the mark on Sasuke.

Sound trio on side Naruto and then Sasuke wake up groggy and foggy as hell but hey safe! With their new cool allies! Naruto's devious nature surfaces and he makes a plan to net both teams all the scrolls they'll need with his prankster past . While he has the time Otogiri pulls Zaku aside and warns him to watch his tubing around the Aburame since their bugs follow and eat chakra which is a huge vulnerability for specifically him. Sorry Shino it just ain't your time-line.

Successful plan put into motion everyone moves onto The Tournament where things play out basicially as they do with the exception of Shino getting outplayed by Otogiri's timely warning. Naruto does a little better and wins less with a stroke of luck and more by being just enough better at chakra control the seal doesn't completely stop him. And of course Ino tries to vent when she gets paired up with her new Fated Rival (that random boy who was better in class than her and hasn't given her a second thought all story) but Otogiri is tired stressed and over it so he forces a grapple pins her hand with a kunai and presses his advantage until he knocks her out because Ino is Not A Quitter. By any sane metric Ino does fine but Otogiri's got his sights aimed way higher and has been training accordingly. Sorry, Ino just ain't your timeline either.

Seconds into the fight he gets even more stressed out as he realizes all at once the various things even a brief jaunt into his soul/mind would reveal. Making him fight way more aggressivly and mercilessly which the other K9 minus s7 don't like. Zaku and Kin do but boo on them.

Easy part over Otogiri has to rededicate himself to several things all at once: untangling the invasion's plans without drawing too much attention to himself. Keeping the sound trio alive and out of Orochimaru's hands to keep him from going full Necromancer on the Third. Keeping Naruto and Sasuke safe from the wretched hands moving on them. Again not drawing aggro himself from Danzo and ROOT. Or Jiraya. Noted spymaster. Old teammate of his new archnemesis. Naruto's newest teacher. Whooo.

Meanwhile in the mountains Kakashi is training Sasuke because he got paired up against a serial killer jinjuriki. Which is one more gray hair on his head along with all the other stuff including Otogiri seeking him out in private and explaining the attack, the seals and who he suspects was the attacker. Which. Kakashi is smart, he now probably knows who Mizuki sold Konoha out to and how and why Otogiri would know who he is but he still has no idea what angle the kid is working. Or if approaching him about it is smart. Kids are hard and Kakashi has been avoiding this for years. Obito please come back and help him you were always basicially a kid you'd know what was going on.

Otogiri has come to the conclusion it's officially time to call Gondor for aid and seeing as there's maybe 3 people who could be discrete enough to trail the trio and play off if they got caught. One was on a mountain one is him and one is...capable of self replication. Welp time to put a hand over Naruto's gross mouth and explain the bullet points.

A pinned Naruto with two hands over his mouth later gives more context to the Mizuki mysteries; he confirms it was Mizuki who told him of the special pass requirement and that he never showed that night. Iruka found him and he remembers an odd smell but has no memory beyond a very verbal lashing. Neither boy knows how Mizuki got away with it, but Otogiri spells out the "truth" to Naruto about Mizuki's plans to steal the scroll and leave Naruto to rot for it. In return for the tiny lie Otogiri tells Naruto he knows about the Kyubei and has decided that Naruto's too kind and simple to be a demon fox so he's cool with him.

Before even a single sappy sentiment can be shared Otogiri launches into his suspicions about how valuable Orochimaru finds their new "friends'" lives and Naruto is all about protecting them (believe it!). Together with a little "totally unknowing" help from a certain Toad Sage they figure out Kabuto's ninja info cards have summoning seals on them and before Dosu can go and get himself killed the new duo gush about how excited they are to see Zaku and Dosu kick butt in the stadium which is enough to mollify Dosu's increasing need to go out and prove himself. Barely.

Zaku's feeling right offended they were given "information cards" as if they needed the help to kick a bunch of kids' asses in a straight fight. Otogiri could kiss that lanky moron because he just handed him the answer and he makes a big show of agreeing and saying they should prove it by getting rid of those useless cards and giving them to him and Naruto who could use the help. Dosu's suspicion gauge raises another tick but the trio do and those cards find themselves in Jiraya's hands lightning quick.

Surprise surprise the cards have summoning sutras on them to send the holders to a preset location. Jiraya with the subtly of a trained deceiver who's lead a spy ring for decades pries a lot of information from Otogiri very skillfully and concludes what Otogiri already knew regarding the intentions of summoning cards the holders didn't know about. So, the sound trio receive a friendly visit from a friendly toad man who gleefully shows them the trap on the cards and notes whoever gave them these might not be as trustworthy as they thought. The trio say nothing, cutting contact with OtoNaru.

Come the tournament a lot of the usual beats play out; late Sauske, Naruto's still heated about Nehi being the ultimate Heel wrestler, Shikamaru proves he can make wise tactical decisions and before the oragnizers have to awkwardly side step there's one too many contestants Sauske dramatic entrances in and the fight begins. A fight Naruto Otogiri and Shikamaru miss because Dosu and company have given it some thought and are going to just full Bail but they know what's about to start and at least want the duo (and shikamaru they guess) to be awake and away when the fighting starts.

Naruto Talks at them and tries to fire them up agaisnt ol copperhead as everything Pops Off including a pall of mist that descends over the arena. Zabuza's found a fellow revolutionary it seems. Sasuke takes off after Gaara with Naruto hot on his heels with a shove from Otogiri seeing as their the "same".

Otogiri rounds on the trio and decides to use his own version of Talk pointing out that they owe one person one thing and that's revenge on Orochimaru. He tried to sacrifice them multiple times hasn't been in contact with them, and was gonna do who knows what with their bodies without consent. They can flee in the middle if they want but don't they want to pop him in the metaphorical face first? Zaku does. Kin does. Dosu doesn't anymore but his almost-friends (all 4 of them) aren't budging so he figures he might as well prove how non disposable they are by messing up snakey's plans.

Shikamaru is thoroughly disgruntled because Naruto dragged him along to the Gaara mess which is going basicially like canon. Shino's even here his bugs having devoured the genjutsu and wanting to back up his non insane classmate. An exhausted Shikamaru can barely hold back a desperate Temari until the timely ringing of bells saves him. Kin's strings may not have much shadow but they are a direct path to a disoriented Temari who has to watch her little brother actually struggle and bleed before she gets introduced to a tree the same way Kin was to a wall. Naruto summons a giant frog.

Meanwhile Kakashi is meeting back up with Zabuza, his ninken already have the swordsmaster's scent and this time they do need to settle the score. Zabuza's both mad at Kakashi for reasons he knows aren't sound and persuing his goal since Orochimaru will eventually tear down Wave and he says will leave it to Zabuza while he goes after the rest. He has to make Haku's sacrifice count so Leaf has to die on the vine just in case this time the promise is real. No points for guessing who wins in this confusing melee. Final tally: 3-0 kakashi:zabuza it was close though.

Meanwhile again Mizuki's poised to take some sweet justice against Iruka for, frankly, being a better instructor ninja and person than him wheb Otogiri shows up playing it like he wants the honor. No dice, Mizuki's wanted this for awhile and the kid's nowhere close enough to be subtle and he just has to drop the genjutsu on Mizuki to make him miss and engage his manipulator in a direct confrontation to end this whole twisted mess. Good thing Mizuki doesn't have that filler arc power up because Otogiri's fighting an uphill battle on this one.

But first Hayate Gekko's girlfriend the ANBU member Cat is engaging his canonical killer Baki the sand jonin her swordsmanship sharp enough to leave Baki's attempts to entangle her blade useless. And him open to said jonin's surprise strike taking out the sandman. Oh how the turntables. Is what someone who knows the alternate timeline would say since that confrontation didn't happen in this one since Dosu wasn't trailed and Hayate killed for Knowing Too Much.

Speaking of Dosu he and Zaku have run into Kabuto who's cover is very blown because Konoha's Spymaster got a peek at his Trap Cards and no one is happy with anyone here. Dosu and Zaku aren't exactly jonin level even combined but in a chaotic melee large windbursts and balance altering soundwaves make up for a lot when your speciality is up close precision scapel attacks. Kabuto would win ordinarily but he's a wanted man and there's an angry snake lady willing to take out her misplaced sense of displacement on a willing medical collabteour. Kabuto gets away in the end but Anko takes one look at the trio once everyone's round up in the end and asks "is anyone gonna claim these kids?" And not wait for an answer.

Back to Otogiri who lacks the element of surprise of numbers to overwhelm Mizuki and is going pretty even but for all the cheap kill shots he has to prevent from taking out a defenseless wounded Iruka who himself got taken down protecting the academy kids not named nepotism. Mizuki isn't his usual sneering jackass self here because he's pissed that the kid he'd been grooming slipped out of his control and had taken to playing him for a fool. Otogiri bullshits back that after seeing how Orochimaru treated his soldiers he made the choice to back out before he was sacrificed for a madman's goals stubbronly ignorning the Danzo in the room for now.

Injured, humiliated and generally unpleasant Mizuki lunges for Otogiri and gets his hands around the boy's throat. Any plan of escape is cut off by a torrent of rage and red as Otogiri loses it after all of Mizuki's crap and he simply rips the man's hands off him and before the former instructor can process the impossible thing he just witnessed he's driven into the side of the academy and has a kunai driven through his neck. Good thing Iruka passed out from his wounds and no impressionable children saw that. Oh hi Konohamaru don't wanna come out of hiding in that closet and say hi to Naruto nii chan's friend? No? Suit yourself he's gotta hurry Iruka to a healer anyway no time to stop and ask questions like "how" or "what the fuck?"

The final results of the invasion are far from pretty. Konoha's numbers are still pretty cut down as are Sand's who are still totally playing that "Orochimaru killed our kage and was giving orders so us invading you is totes not our fault" card they did in canon. It's accepted for the same reason as in canon: the sharks are already circling with blood in the water no need to churn the tide when a perfectly good excuse is offered up.

Third watch: without two other kages backing him in a restricted space and not enough time to restructure the plan to get Mandra in on the action sun wukong and The Professor taught a hard lesson in getting absolutely whomped. Orochimaru got away alive sans a working leg, but old man bodies aren't really still made for pitched life or death combat and his body's heavily protesting the return to combat. The can can be kicked a little further down the road safely but they need a qualified non Danzo candidate and soon.

Sound Trio: the corps aren't totally happy about it but they need manpower and they've got friends on the inside and a grudge against orochimaru so...probation working with Anko. She already adopted them they can't say no. And by adopted i do mean carted them away in a net to get lodgings and food. And a good medic to look at Zaku's arms.

Otogiri: in so much trouble you have no idea. His various schemes finally came out around someone without the good sense to lie about it so T&I would like a word with him. And Kakashi? Who is now claiming before anyone can even threaten pain or a jaunt through his head that they were in already working against the threat to Konoha since Wave. Kakashi?

His claim is the money stolen from Gato to insulate Wave and brought back to Konoha was in preparation for the coming storm. Obviously deep internal agents like Mizuki and Kabuto left Kakashi little choice but to keep Otogiri in deep cover to root out the problem without drawing suspicion by having contact with known figures like The Third. Kakashi had total control of the situation the whole time. Honest.

Otogiri's just kind of nodding along because he is just getting windmall slammed by haymaker after haymaker in a pretty short window of time. Ibuki is Not Buying This but the kid's actions prove his loyalty at the end of the day and if Hatake wants to take the lumps for his kid? Well, more power to him. Ibuki reminds Kakashi there are 'proper verified channels' for internal operations and he should remember to use them in the future. He expects a full concise report regarding everything from both of them and sends the teacher-student pair off with a glare.

This is where all that Kakashi stuff from earlier gets revealed to the audience as he goes over how and when he caught Otogiri mid treason and how close an eye he's actually been keeping on the boy. It is as terrifying as Kakashi's tone is light. Otogiri's just so incredibly thankful he declares his undying loyalty to his sensei for looking out for him and following his own principals so closely. Yes, Otogiri is crying at this point why do you ask?

This is the peaceful denouement of part 1 as Otogiri goes around catching up with who he can he is left to ponder why he has Kyubei chakra. How did Tobio even die anyway? And why is Jiraya here inviting him on a trip with Naruto? Does he wanna be a spymaster? Wasn't fixing Tobio's mistake the end of the story why is there more? Help!

Miscellaneous character notes on Otogiri:

-> is fairly meta and aware of transmigration novels and some of their rules. Is wrong about as often as he is right

-> has a fairly solid grasp on the character's motives but can't predict moments of wild humanity

-> has a hard time grasping his own mortality despite or rather because he has already died once. Will blank out at the idea of dying as bad as if not worse than Sakura when intent is aimed at him. Refuses to dwell on his first death or Tobio's

-> sarcastic and frequently argumentative. He likes to pick fights when he's feeling safe with someone.

-> was a bit of an edgelord in life and has a twisted sense of morality. His interference doesn't cost Shino his life but it could have and he ignores that for his own goals.

-> early on is mildly obssessed with finding the divervent point of import thinking if he can solve The Problem he'll fade into an epilogue or something. Is in Denial.

-> connecting events in his present with his past unlocks memories of both Tobio's life and his own. Facing his own death is the only way for him to Understand.

[themyscirah]

I'd like to state officially, for the record, that I think the Parallax retcon IS stupid as hell and if I worked for dc that garbage would be gone in an instant. Just like, FYI <3

[6vaguebook]

Can we all just agree to stop pressuring creators to have the most diverse cast of characters as humanly possible at the expense of their story?

Like, yes, maybe I don't have a lot of female characters, maybe I don't need an equal amount of male and female characters to tell my story Gary I don't have time for token characters

[kisskissgotohell]

it might need a reread once the full official tl comes out but i gotta say. based on one read, guardian (novel-only) did not feel like it actually went anywhere. it's like the novel equivalent of those posts where you learn something and the next reblog immediately refutes it. neutral experience.

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[nekovale]

So, I don't know how many Bsd fans are also Fate/Stay Night fans...... BUT I AM and this is the only reason this exists Fate is one of my favorite series and I was listening to the Fate/Zero ost one day because it's one of my fav ost ever... and I started thinking about a possible crossover and it kinda snowballed from there lol Explanations and ramblings under the cut!

For who doesn't know what Fate/Stay Night is about: the gist of it is there's a recurring event where seven mages (masters) summon seven heroic spirits (servants) who fight between each other to win the Holy Grail. Basic things to know are: servants are divided in classes and each has a Noble Phantasm, aka a servant's ultimate weapon/ability; each master has three command spells which compel the servant to obey to three absolute orders; servants need mana to keep existing. said mana is usually provided by the master, but can also be transferred with bodily fluids (that includes sex) The pairs I had thought of for this au are: - berserker!Chuuya + Dazai (in this case the berserker's typical madness happens only with Corruption, which is Chuuya's Noble Phantasm and can be stopped only using a command spell) - saber!Akutagawa + Atsushi - caster!Nikolai + Fyodor - lancer!Bram + Aya - assassin!Nathaniel + Margareth - archer!Mark Twain + Lucy I have absolutely NO idea who to cast as rider lol Kunikida is the Church's overseer though (an impartial judge for the Holy War) I've thought about these combinations for fun since I don't have an overarching plot or anything, just some little disconnected scenes, but I liked the possible interactions with these pairs. I wanted to have characters from the main factions in the series (so like, the Port Mafia, the Agency, the Guild...) but since servants are heroic spirits of the past (and in this au they're not their irl literary counterparts, but characters on their own. Chuuya's real identity would be Arahabaki, etc) I wanted to pick characters who also could have a particular design while fitting the role........... I wanted to put Lovecraft in there too but he's definitely a berserker and I'm not giving up Chuuya for it lol This wip has been eating my brain for literal months, so here it is!! It got me back into doodling just for fun so it was a good time. I actually have more sketches but I feel like these are already a lot lol...... so I'll post those at a later time (also because I'm rewatching ubw now so I might end up doing more....)

[desertskiespodcast]

I tried to write a novel. Not once. Not twice. But about 12 times. Here's how that would play out: 1. I sit down and knock out 10 pages 2. I share it with someone 3. They say "It's goooood" like it's not good 4. I ask for critical feedback 5. They say, "Well....the plot just moves so quickly. So much happens in the first few pages it doesn't feel natural." So I'd write more drafts. I'd try to stretch out the story. I would add dialogue that I tried to make interesting but thought was boring. I would try including environment and character descriptions that felt unnecessary, (why not just let people imagine what they want?) Anyways, I gave up trying to write because in my mind, I wasn't a fiction writer. Maybe I could write a phonebook or something. But then I made a fiction podcast, and I waited for the same feedback about the fast moving plot, but guess what??? Podcasts aren't novels. The thing that made my novels suck became one of the things that made Desert Skies work. I've received some criticism since the show started, but one thing I don't receive regular complaints about is being overly-descriptive or longwinded. In fact, the opposite. It moves fast enough that it keeps peoples attention. I always felt I had a knack for telling stories but spent years beating myself up because I couldn't put those stories into novel form. The problem wasn't me. The problem was the tool I was trying to use. All that to say: If, in your innermost parts you may know that you're a storyteller but you just can't write a book, don't give up right away. You can always do things to get better and there's a lot of good resources. But if you do that for a while and novel writing just isn't your thing, try making a podcast, or creating a comic, or a poem, or a play, or a tv script. You might know you're an artist but suck at painting. Try making a glass mosaic, or miniatures, or try charcoal portraits, or embroider or collage. You might know you're a singer, but opera just isn't working out. Why not yodel? I could keep listing out examples, but the point is this. Trust your intuitions when it comes to your creative abilities, but don't inhibit yourself by becoming dogmatic about which medium you can use to express that creativity. Don't be afraid to try something new. Don't be afraid to make something new. You might just find the art form that fits the gift you knew you always had, and what it is might surprise you

[deikshen]

Necromancer cultivator Shen Yuan decides that since he transmigrated to PIDW and with those very particular skills, he can bring his favorite supporting characters back to life to talk to them and solve the mysterious plot holes of the shitty novel.

One thing leads to another, one person asks for a favor, and soon 90% of the Cang Qiong Sect has returned from the dead. Which is... fine. Somehow. Shen Yuan wanders around reviving people and making sure to revive them a couple more times if necessary.

Eventually, he revives Tianlang-jun and Su Xiyan. They have their difficulties at first, but nothing that some necessary and uncomfortable talks can't resolve. Shen Yuan is glad to finally know that part of the plot and see the happy couple re-emerge.

What he doesn't expect is that, well, these two parents of the protagonist adopt him. Something like that. They are responsible for him, they teach him, they help him, they educate him with demonic customs and martial skills, they take care of him. Shen Yuan also has to put up with their cloying public displays of affection or Su Xiyan dragging Tianlang-jun by the ears when he gets into trouble. It's fun and Shen Yuan finds himself enjoying his new life a little more.

So, obviously, Emperor Luo Binghe finds out.

A strange dark cultivator with an ability to bring the dead back to life. If that wasn't enough, that cultivator is living with a revived Heavenly Demon and a former Huan Hua cultivator, according to the rumours. He has almost completely revived the entire Cang Qiong Sect, who have scattered and hidden to avoid another death, disciples included. And Luo Binghe can't tolerate it.

So, he goes in search of that cultivator... Coming face to face with a woman whose face he knows well. Because for years, he has seen it in the mirror.

“Oh, so it’s you,” she says, her sharp gaze softening. “Yuan-er told us about you and said you would definitely come when you found out. You have grown so much.”

... This cultivator... had he revived his biological mother?

Luo Binghe doesn't understand anything, but he is led to an awkward and strange family dinner, meeting the young, bespectacled, dark-aura cultivator his parents have adopted as a puppy. He acts awkward and juvenile, nothing like the expectations Luo Binghe had placed on him. But oh well. His powers are impressive. He hides things behind hysterical laughter and apparently an impressive knowledge of the world around him, the history of Binghe and his past.

And Luo Binghe is going to discover everything.

[honeyhotteoks]

an innocent man doesn't stand a chance (j.yh)

summary: it's halloween and your boyfriend has a fantasy. he wants to be the masked killer and for you to be the final girl, and he wants you to run.

note: this was written in a feverish haze of ghostface yunho brainrot, you can thank this fanart and this edit for making this one about yunho, but i have to give all credit for the idea to the nsfw audio creator augustinthewinter who's masked hookup audio killed me. also please read the warnings, this one is potentially very triggering.

warnings: ghostface!yunho x final girl!reader, boyfriend!yunho, hard dom!yunho, girlfriend!reader, sub!reader, sadism, masochism, knife play, primal play/chasing, threats of violence, heavy cnc that really looks like noncon because part of the play is that he wants her to struggle and say no BUT there are consent checks explicit throughout, rough sex, fingering, gloves, masks, breath play, impact play, mirrors, finger sucking don't look at me, dry humping, clothed sex, ripping off clothes, size kink, ass play, lots and lots of degredation including use of sl*t/wh*re/fvcktoy/c*cksleeve, yunho is seriously mean in this i'm not kidding, fear, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie, subspace, there's more i'm sure but this one is a doozy. also lots and lots of aftercare!! after a scene like this i had to write detailed aftercare and confirmation of limits, so that's there too! yunho is v sweet when not in the zone.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut, no plot in sight

word count: 7.9k

The party is in full swing when you arrive. The house bumping with music and every corner decorated for Halloween. You’re late enough that you can just slip in through the back door, and that was the plan from the start. Yunho arrived first, nearly two hours ago, and made excuses for why you were late, for how you might not even make it to the party. No one would see either of you come or go together, so when you both disappeared to play your game no one would ever know. You had come up with the plan in bed, whispered fantasies and what-ifs between the sheets as he rewarded your willingness to try something new with his tongue. 

His fantasy is special, and to do it right you can really only do it on Halloween night. 

You weave through a throng of drunk acquaintances, searching the crowd for him, but it’s not as easy to find him as you thought it would be. You’re not sure how a six foot something Ghostface killer could hide from you in the crowd of your friend’s house party, but no matter how many rooms you check you can’t see him. Nervousness pits inside you as you check your phone and see nothing. He could be caught up with friends, he could be changing his mind, but you can’t tell if you can’t find him. 

Adjusting your very 90s costume, you dart away from the kitchen where a group of your girlfriends are pouring shots and weave your way into the back of the house. Maybe you can call him? Text him? Would that completely ruin the mood of psycho killer stalking? Maybe, but it’s been forty-five minutes and you haven’t so much as seen a sliver of his mask. 

You flick through your phone, checking for any new messages, and then scroll to find Yunho’s contact card in your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button as you lean against the quiet hallway wall, and then in your peripheral vision you see it. 

A dart of black, something looming, and when you finally turn your head, you see him. Ghostface, standing wide and imposing in the hall, blocking any way past him and back out into the party. 

“Spooky,” You sigh, tucking your phone away. 

Silently, Ghostface nods his head. 

The hair on the back of your arms stands up. This is it. 

“What? Are you looking for the bathroom or something?” You take a step or two towards him, leaning into the character you dressed for. 

He shakes his head. 

“Looking for me?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Mm,” You raise a brow at him, “what’s the line from that movie? You wanna play psycho killer?” 

His head tilts slightly to the side and he nods once again. 

“And who do I play?” 

He takes a step towards you and you fade back. 

Fear starts to spread through you, even with it all being pretend, you can’t fight the feeling that your subconscious drums up in your gut. 

He takes another step, and then another, and then you’re running. 

Spinning on your heel you push deeper into the house, away from the party and towards a line of doors down the hall. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, your stomach a bundle of nervous trembling knots, and your hands are so slick with sweat you can barely grab the door handle of the basement. It’s not as easy to run as it looks in the movies, especially not in a tight skirt and penny loafers, and you skid down the basement stairs taking them two at a time until you slip forwards and crash down onto your hands and knees. 

You don’t have time to assess the sudden sharp pain as the skin of your palm drags over the concrete floor though, so you scramble up in a flash and in a panic you weave your way deeper into the basement. 

It’s familiar enough to you, your best friend’s parent’s place. You know there’s a tiny half bathroom in the far back corner, a rarely used guest bed against one wall as you descend the stairs, a collection of old video games and movies, and then around the corner to the left more and more basement, more storage, more dusty nooks and crannies to hide. You’re frozen for a split second, trying to decide the best place to go where he won’t find you, but heavy footfalls on the stairs ring in your ears like drum beats and you don’t have time to weigh your options. 

You take off towards the bathroom, fumbling with the door again when you reach it. 

The masked man behind you doesn’t say anything, but you hear him moving. His feet are sure and quick, the heavy fabric of his robes making a whooshing sound as he darts forwards to try and close the space between your bodies. 

A panicked sound leaves your mouth as you tumble into the sink, clocking your hip hard on the porcelain and bracing yourself on the wall. Turning you reach back for the door, if you just get it latched maybe you can give yourself a second to think, to shimmy out of the very small, high set window. Pushing yourself into action you grab the door, he’s so close you can hear his breath, seconds away. Seconds away. 

The door stops abruptly as you throw your body against it, six inches from closing. You push again, but it doesn’t budge, and when you look down it’s clear you’ve lost this game. His heavy black boot is firmly set in the door’s path, and you know there’s no chance for escape. 

He crowds you instantly, leaving you no time to recover, his body pushing into the cramped space of the bathroom and flinging the door backwards into the adjacent wall. You stumble into the sink and he moves right up against you, the firm length of his body pinning yours in place. 

For a moment everything is still, completely and shudderingly still with only the sound of your hitched breathing and thundering heart filling the room. You’re not sure what you should do - beg? Plead? Stay silent and let him do what he wants? 

The masked man’s head tilts to the side as if he’s observing you, something you can’t tell through the ghostly plastic of his mask and dead black eyes. You’re trembling for real, hands shaking as they grip the cool porcelain. Ghostface leans into you, one of his gloved hands reaching for your face, a soft brush against your chin at first that turns to pressure as his fingers slide up your jaw to push you face to the side. It’s like he’s studying you, his hand slipping lower and dragging down your throat. 

Your breath comes faster, stomach tight. 

Ghostface closes his hand around your throat and your eyes widen. He holds you like this for a moment, his other hand locking down over your waist and gripping you tight, pinning you in place. 

When he squeezes, panic bubbles through your body. 

Yunho’s never choked you before. He’s never even suggested it, despite all your little jokes about how nice his hands would look around your neck. It seemed pretty clear to you that within the bounds of your relationship that was one thing he just wasn’t interested in, but whoever has you in the bathroom knows exactly how to hold your throat and where to press. Part of the fun is not knowing who’s beneath the mask, but your body still locks up, and an anxious voice inside you starts to wonder - what if? It’s not as if Ghostface is that rare of a costume choice, you see dozens of them on the street every year. It’s not inconceivable to think that at this party there would be more than one. 

Your heart beats in fluttering fits and starts in your ribcage as your mind turns over this possibility, and then he squeezes. The fight comes back into you full force when you hear him sigh, his hand tightening even more and cutting off your airway. You wriggle in his arms, pushing against his chest and trying to use your hips for leverage, a startled whine ripping from your throat, but fear laces through your body as you shove against him and realize just how immovable he is. 

Ghostface releases your throat, the same gloved hand slipping into the back of your hair to hold you steady. 

“No!” The word tumbles out of your mouth as soon as you can properly make noise again. 

He crowds you more, masked face dipping by your ear, “Shh, shh,” 

You freeze. 

“Safe word?” Yunho’s voice is a balm in your moment of sudden panic, his tone low and hushed. 

“T-treasure,” You manage it, the realization coming back into your body that this isn’t a total and complete stranger, it’s still him. Your fear starts to melt into anticipation. 

He gives you a squeeze, just one gentle pulse with his hand on your hip to communicate that he’s heard you, “Color?” 

You take a second to assess yourself. This game is intense in a way that you’ve never experienced. Yunho had tried to tell you how your body might react to this kind of manufactured fear, how it would play tricks on you, how even if you knew it was him your body would still have the urge to fight and flee. You knew it, but you didn’t really understand it until this moment. 

Yunho’s gloved thumb drags lovingly over your cheek for just a moment, “Color?” 

If he has to ask you a third time he’ll end the scene, you know he will, but the brief flicker of tenderness in his touch reminds you of everything you already know about him. He has you. You’re safe. This is a game. 

“Green,” You finally answer, “I’m green,” 

One more quick pulse to your hip, he’s heard you again. More than that, he’s pleased with you. 

His shoulders straighten as he draws to his full height, his body filling the space of the tiny bathroom and caging you in. You swallow tightly, audible in your ears and then he moves fast. 

His hands around your waist, lifting you up and then shoving you back until you’re sitting on the lip of the porcelain sink, uncomfortably balanced and pushed back flush to the mirrored wall behind you. You yelp when he moves you, hands scrambling for purchase on something, gripping the sleeve of his black cape in desperation. Fear and anticipation pulse through you, but he doesn’t give you a rest to get your bearings. 

He shoves your legs open wide and slots between your thighs and shoves your face to the side until your cheek is squished against the cold mirror, his hand a controlling brace from your jaw to the crown of your head. 

“You look so pretty running from me,” He strokes your face, but this time it’s not loving, it's possessive, it’s pure control. 

You grip the edge of the sink and whimper. 

“Should we play a little game?” He teases, “It’s Halloween, you must like scary movies,” 

Your breath quickens, “Y-yeah,” 

He drops his voice low, in a mimic of the movie, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

You’ve heard Yunho do that voice before, lazing on the couch last October when you had yourselves a movie marathon, the day he realized something about your favorite scary movie that turned you on, the day you called him out for being hard during a kill scene. It took a year for you both to work up the courage to actually act on any of those fantasies, but here and now with his mask on and his voice low, you feel that mix of terror and arousal bleeding through your body in a way only he can elicit from you. 

You can’t help the little smile that passes over your lips, “Scream,” 

“Meta,” He teases, pinching you hard on the thigh,  “for every question you get wrong, I’m taking something off you,” 

You swallow hard again. 

He reaches into his black robes and then you see it, shining in the reflection of the mirror and in your hazy peripheral vision. The glint of a real knife is unmistakable, the cool sharp edge of the steel crystal clear and you can’t stop the actual fear that jolts through you. You jerk in his hold, instinct driving you for a split second, and he pushes your face harder into the mirror. 

“Tch,” He makes a disappointed noise with his tongue against his teeth, “the game’s no fun if you don’t play.” 

He won’t hurt you, at least not in ways you don’t already like. You have to trust that. 

Settling yourself with a slow breath you summon the act he wants, find the fear within yourself and let it inform your words to give him what he wants. 

“Please, don’t,” You’re trembling is real, that you know. 

He shifts between your legs, drawing the knife closer, shifting it in his hand so he simply presses the cool flat side of the blade against one of your nipples. You hiss at the sensation, tightness building in your gut. 

“First question,” He drags the knife a little over your nipple, “What movie franchise is Jason from?” 

It’s an actual quiz, of course it is. At least he’s starting off easy. 

“Friday the Thirteenth,” You reply fast. 

“Correct,” He lifts the knife, and with the blade pointed away from you, he pushes up your tight tshirt until it’s bunched above your breasts. 

“I got that right,” You glance down at the way he’s touching you, breaking his own rules already. 

“Just getting a better view,” He insists, and then the cool knife is against your nipple again, only the thin fabric of your bralette between skin and steel. 

Your body is aching in this position, but you can feel the heat off his body, and the heady tone of his voice from under the mask still has you starting to ache in different places. 

“Let’s make this a little harder,” He taps the knife against you and you shiver, “what movie has a group of teenagers being stalked on an island by a killer fisherman?” 

“It’s,” You start to answer but he taps the knife again and you jolt, “fuck, it’s I Know What You Did Last Summer,” 

You watched it with him two weeks ago. You remember it, clear as day. 

“Wrong,” The knife twists, the tip gently skating over the swell of your breast. 

“Wait,” You start but he tips the knife under the center of your bra. 

“I Still Know What You Did Last Summer,” He clarifies the sequel, “they weren’t on an island in the first movie. I thought you liked scary movies,” 

“I,” You press back into the wall as the knife edge kisses your skin, “I… I do,” 

“You’re not very good at this,” He twists the knife and drags the sharp edge out so that it severs your thin bra in half, falling open and revealing your breasts to his wandering eyes. 

A little gasping sound leaves your lips, a desperate noise you try to bite back, but he hears it. 

He hums a soft, amused laugh and suddenly the knife is gone, sheathed and away and he leans into your space again, “You fucking like this, don’t you?” 

“No,” You insist, despite the way your stomach is in tight knots. 

“Did running away get you hot?” His gloved hand skims over your exposed body, “Do psycho killers make you wet?” 

“Fuck,” You whine, “no, no,” 

“Liar,” He whispers, and then he delivers a pointed slap to your thigh, “spread.” 

Your legs widen instinctively at his command, but he doesn’t reward you or praise you like he normally would, this is different. He reaches under the hem of your taut mini skirt, finding the apex of your thighs, and his fingers gently rub up and down from the base of your slit to your clit. A tiny gasp bubbles out of your throat. 

“Are you afraid?” He all but growls. 

Your stomach flips and his hand tightens in your hair, “Y-yes,” 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He finds the edge of your panties and drags them to one side. 

“I don’t want it,” You answer him, body shaking now. 

“Tell me to stop,” One gloved finger presses into your entrance, the softness of the leather and the warmth of his skin beneath it making you tremble. 

“Stop,” You beg, “please, please, stop,” 

“Why would I?” He slowly pushes inside, stretching you around his finger, “When I know how wet being fucked by a stranger in a mask makes you,” 

A tense thready sound pulls from your throat as he adds a second finger. 

“If you don’t want this,” He pulses his hand once, forcing both fingers deep into your slick channel, “why are you panting like a dog in heat?” 

“N-no,” 

“If you don’t want it,” He whispers, “don’t come.” 

Your eyes shut as his hand starts moving, a steady pulse of his gloved fingers inside your aching cunt, curled just right in the way he knows gets you off fast. A pumping drag against your g-spot, the sound of his heavy breath, the unmistakable sensation of your own wetness making a mess between  your thighs. 

“Looks like you want it to me,” He adds the circle of his thumb against your clit and you jerk in his hold. 

“Stop, fuck,” Your nails dig into his forearm. 

“You don’t want me touching you, but you’re soaking my fingers,” 

“N..No, no,” You babble, heat pooling in your gut. 

“Fight it,” He pumps his fingers faster, drumming against your sweet spot, “don’t come,” 

You hiss sharply, pleasure dropping low in your belly, the sensation of his gloves and his hot hand too much to bear. 

“Moaning like you want it,” He laughs, pulling his hand suddenly out from under your skirt and yanking your head back to center. 

You yelp at the position change and the sudden lack of contact but he doesn’t make you wait for long. 

“Open,” He smacks your cheek lightly. 

Your mouth falls open and he shoves both gloved fingers between your lips. You choke against the suddenness, at the way he presses down on your tongue, blinking to clear the haze from your eyes. 

“Suck.” 

You shiver, your lips closing over his digits, the sharp taste of leather mixed with your fluids assaulting your senses and you can’t fight the moan, the way your eyes drift shut as you swirl your tongue. 

He hums, pleased, “Does it hurt?” He asks. 

His question doesn’t make sense, and you blink your eyes back open to look up at the cool passiveness of his ghostly mask. 

“Pretending you’re not a whore?” He clarifies and your mouth stills over his fingers. He pulls them out, delivering one more pointed slap to your cheek, and dives back down to plunge them back into your aching cunt, “Moaning like that, your nipples rock hard, and this pussy,” 

You choke, a bubble building in your core as he abuses your slick channel again. 

“Clenching around my fingers, sucking me in,” He chuckles, “I can feel you, baby,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” 

“Hold back,” He doubles his efforts between your thighs and you keen, “if you don’t want it, tell me to stop, don’t come,” 

“Stop!” You whine, giving him exactly what he wants, “Please, please,” 

“No,” His thumb rubs fast, his hand practiced at making you fall apart at the seams, “you come, you keep your eyes open, and you come all over my fucking hand,” 

Your breath is fast, heart pounding, and you feel the cord tightening in your belly in a way that makes you want to rub yourself back up into his touch but he has you pinned, stuck, at his mercy just like he wants. 

“Come,” His voice is clear, authoritative, and familiar. Like a trained response, your body releases and cracks open into a desperate orgasm, crumbling in his hands as you pitch forward onto his shoulder and grind your hips down to take the last little bit of what you need from his fingers. 

When his hand stills, you realize you’re still clinging to him and you jerk back, one hand over your mouth as you try to recover your breath. 

He steps back, his hands sliding off you and body slotting out from your thighs. You can’t see Yunho beneath the mask, but you know he’s looking. You can feel his hot gaze sliding over your body and taking in every wet and shaking inch of you. Your body is throbbing with need, but the game isn’t done, he hasn’t even made you touch his cock yet, and you know there’s no way you’re making it out of this basement without that. 

“Tell me again how you don’t like it,” He finally says. 

You shiver. 

“Cat got your slutty little tongue?” He prompts you again, voice hardening. 

You swallow hard, finding your words, “I didn’t like it,” 

“Mhm,” 

“I d-don’t want you to touch me,” You lie. 

“Yeah?” He teases, “Well then run,” 

“W-what?” Your eyes flick up to the impassive plastic of his mask. 

“If you didn’t like it, why are you still sitting there?” He takes a step to the side, clearing your path to the door and you slide off the edge of the sink, your loafers making a click onto the tile floor. 

You swallow hard, eyes darting out to the rest of the basement. 

“Come on,” He teases, and you can hear the sick smile in his voice, “try to get away,” 

You look between him and the room ahead of you again.

He leans forward and you shiver, his gaunt stretched mouth at your ear again, “I can’t fuck you if I can’t catch you,” his gloved fingers yank your top down over your exposed breasts and he chuckles, “better run fast.” 

You spring forwards, adrenaline pumping through your body and blood rushing in your ears. Leaping out of the bathroom he gives you a couple steps to get a head start, but he’s so much bigger than you, his stride so much longer, and he closes the distance with ease as you scramble in mock terror to get to the steps. 

Yunho’s arms close around you, hauling you up off your feet and against his chest, his touch rough and probing as he drags you up into the air. 

“No!” You shriek, “Fuck!”

“You think I’d really let you go?” He laughs, “After that?” 

“Fuck you!” The words bubble up out of your mouth. 

“That’s the idea,” His hand slides down your belly, closing over your cunt and cupping you tightly. 

Your body is reacting before your mind, and you jerk in his hold, kicking back your leg and catching him in the shin with the flat heel of your shoe. 

He groans and wrenches you higher in the air, “Keep struggling,” he pants, “I like it,” 

You twist again, trying to free one of your arms, but he has them pinned tightly to your body, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Not a fucking chance,” He takes two wide steps to the mattress and then tosses you down. 

You collapse onto the bed, the old and rarely used springs creaking under your weight, and your scramble forwards in some kind of an attempt to get your bearings, but he’s on you just as fast. He yanks you back with a hand around your ankle and in a flash he’s on top of you. 

He presses one hand firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned face down to the bed, and then his body weight drops down as he straddles the backs of your thighs. Your hands curl into the bedding beneath you, rough sheets and scratchy camp blankets, nothing soft and soothing to take a moment of comfort in. 

His free hand wanders, searching your body slowly. The sound of the party raging upstairs drowns out any competing noise, but you can still hear his heavy breath against the mask and your pounding heart, the sound of anticipation thick in the air around you. 

Yunho presses his hips forwards and you feel the thick hard length of his cock through his costume nestled against your backside. 

“Look at you,” He palms your ass, “shaking for me,” 

A whimper leaves you as his fingers dig into your back. 

“Do I scare you, baby?” He delivers a harsh slap to the back of your thighs and you yelp, “Are you fucking terrified?” 

Another slap leaves you trembling and you hide your face in the mattress, pressing your eyes shut tight. You love when he touches you like this and he knows it. You bite down hard on your lip to keep from whining, wetness pooling in your core. He wanted you scared, he wanted you fighting, you can’t give in just because his glove on your stinging skin feels like sin. 

He groans, his cock pressing down harder to your ass and you feel both his hands slide from your hips up to your back and back down again until he has a grip on your waist. 

A whimper slips out from between your lips.  

Yunho freezes above you, his thumbs massaging a quick circle into your lower back, “Color?” 

“Green!” Your voice is muffled by the bedding but you know he heard it. 

He groans, pulsing his hips to rut his cock against you again. 

Even between layers of fabric, you can feel the heat of him, throbbing and ready for you. Your mouth waters as you picture it, cockhead leaking precum and Yunho’s familiar hand wrapped around the base as he directs it to your mouth. 

“Little slut,” He chuckles and it pulls you straight out of your mental fantasy, “rubbing that ass on a stranger’s cock,” 

Your stomach clenches, and you twitch under him. 

“That’s fucked up,” He drops his body weight over you, one hand pushing your head to the side as he leans over you, “you’re so fucked up, aren’t you?” 

Your breathing is fast, a thready sound in your throat. 

“Aren’t you?” His voice is low, a shade away from a growl, and he rocks his hips again to rub his cock against you. 

“N-no,” You try to shake your head but his hand tightens against your scalp. 

“Liar,” He keeps grinding against you, his free hand snaking underneath your bodies to grope your breast, “I know a needy whore when I see one,” 

You moan into the sheets as he tweaks your nipple, tears springing to your eyes as he palms you, taking you apart with every touch. 

“Let’s see how you like this,” He pinches your nipple once more and you squeal at the sharp sensation that rockets through your chest, a sharp line down to your clit, and then he slides back and shuffles back to sit up over your thighs. 

He pushes the stiff fabric of your mini skirt up over your ass and then you feel the cold metal again. 

You jerk underneath him, and he tuts softly, the sharp edge of the weapon gently dragging over the curve of your ass cheek. 

“Tell me,” He grips your flesh tightly with one hand, painfully pinching, “do you still like scary movies now that you’re in one?” 

You shake your head, a whimper on your lips when the knife slips under the edge of your panties, “P-please, don’t,” 

He yanks the knife up and splits one side of your panties with a taut snap of fabric, “Please?” He taunts, “Please?”

You sob softly in response. 

“Is ‘please’ all you can say?” He delivers a sharp smack to your exposed ass check and you jerk under him. 

“I can’t,” You shake your head into the sheets, “I can’t,” 

He sighs, and you feel the knife shred the other side of your underwear and then you hear the sound of the blade clattering to the floor. With both hands free he palms your exposed flesh, squeezing you almost painfully and inspecting your exposed body. 

Shivers run through you, and you try to hold yourself still for his touches. 

“Which hole should I fuck first, hmm?” His fingers search you, probe you. 

Your body locks up tightly, a gasp on your lips. You hadn’t discussed that, and you shake your head. 

“Scared?” He ghosts his fingers over your rim. 

“Please,” It’s all you can manage. 

“Beg me,” He presses down with his thumb, “beg me not to fuck your ass if you’re so scared.” 

You scramble in the sheets but he has you stuck, “Please don’t, don’t fuck me like t-that, you’re too big, it’s too,” 

He massages one cheek and hums, “What should I do then?” 

“What?” You crane to look back at him, at the masked man pinning you down. 

“Beg,” He says it like he’s bored, like it’s obvious, “beg me to put it somewhere else, or I will fuck this pretty ass open and make you say thank you.” 

Heat floods your belly, your body a sizzling live wire, and you fall right into step with a heady whine, “Please, fuck my pussy,” 

“Again,” 

“Fuck my pussy, please, I’m begging you,” Your voice sounds needy and strange even to your own ears, “I need it inside me, g-give it to me please, fuck my pussy, please,” 

“Better,” His hands disappear into his robed costume and then he pushes forwards, his cock finally free and sliding up and down your slit to find your aching entrance. 

“Y-yes,” You drop your head back down to the bed and in one sharp thrust, he pushes his thick length all the way inside you until his hips are flush with your ass. 

Yunho groans, bracing himself with one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the bed beside you, the mattress creaking with every shift, “Needy pussy,” 

“Fuck,” You moan. 

“Greedy,” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, starting to pick up the pace now in earnest, “gripping my fucking cock like that,” 

All you can do is hold on, bite down on the sheets and let him use you, focus on the sensation of his impossibly hard cock driving in and out and in and out. 

“Are you crying for me? Hmm?” He rolls his hips, the fabric of his costume dragging against you as he fucks into you faster. 

Your eyes are wet, pleasured tears bubbling up and you nod, a tiny sob passing through your lips. 

“Good cocksleeve,” He presses down harder with his hand on your neck, forcing you lower into the mattress. 

Your back arches instinctively, and you whine at the angle change. A few more thrusts and you’ll be done for, you know it. 

“That’s it,” He pants, voice muffled by the mask, “come for me,” 

“C-close,” The words tumble out. 

“Come for me,” He stays steady with his thrusts, pushing your orgasm closer and closer, “come for me, come for me,” 

“Ah!” You fist the sheets, legs starting to shake, “Ah, fuck, fuck!”

“Come on this stranger’s fucking cock,” He grunts, shuddering above you, his fingers digging into your skin and no doubt leaving a bouquet of bruises behind. 

So close to the edge, just a little more will tip you over, and you whine, “Harder,” 

He gasps, forcing his pace to clap harder, deeper, and it only takes two pointed thrusts of his cock into the deepest parts of you to send you careening over the edge. 

“Coming,” You twist beneath him, moaning into your fist, “oh, god,” 

“Fuck,” He curses as your muscles clench and flutter around him, “fuck, oh fuck,” 

Your orgasm has your body locked up and shuddering, but when he pulls free suddenly you gasp into the bedding, “N-no, no, please,” 

He yanks off any scrap of clothing you have on with frantic hands and then rolls you in the sheets so that you’re lying on your back spread open for him. You try to form a sentence, to ask what’s happening but suddenly he’s tearing off his mask and the world slows to a stop. 

Yunho’s sweaty, flushed pink in the cheeks eyes blown wide with need, his plush lips parted and his chest heaving with labored breaths. In a flash he’s stripping off the costume, peeling off his gloves and kicking off his boots. 

“Come here,” He spreads your thighs wider and presses down over you, his cock finding your entrance with ease as he sheaths himself again in one thrust. 

You moan sharply and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he collapses over you. 

“Need you,” He pumps his hips, “have to have you,” 

Pleasure crackles up your body, “Yours,” you nod, “I’m yours,” 

He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hot and hard, “Fuck,” he groans. 

Yunho gathers you closer, your slick bodies now flush together as he rocks into the warm cradle of your hips, “never heard you moan like that,” 

Your walls clench around him. 

“You wanted me to do this,” He groans between messy kisses, “you wanted to run,” 

You nod, lips pressed together. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He pumps into you harder, like he’s desperate to get as deep as possible, “my dirty girl,” 

“Oh, fuck,” Your head falls back against the bed, a pleasured moan caught in your throat. 

“My little fucking slut,” He groans, tipping your hips open wider, his hands tight on your skin, “so desperate to come on stranger cock,” 

You whine sharply, nails digging into his back. 

“Say it,” He threads a hand through your hair and tugs your head back up roughly, “say it,” 

“Yes!” You whine, “Yes, I-I need it,” 

His gaze darkens, the cool mask of your dominant returning, and he slaps your cheek sharply, just enough to give you a pointed sting, “Need what?” 

Your brain is soft, fuzzy with pleasure, but the slap focuses you and you blink, “Need to come,” you pant as he thrusts into you, “on a stranger’s cock, need you to… fuck, need you to take it,” 

He nods, lips parting open in pleasure, “That’s right,” 

Your stomach tightens, pressure dropping low in your belly and you can’t stop feeling the way his cock punches into the deepest parts of you over and over again. Your eyes close tight and you hold onto him, one of your hands slipping up to his neck to tangle into his black hair. 

“Oh,” You’re so close, almost there, “Y-Yunho, oh, god,” 

His hips thrust forward once more, burying his cock impossibly deep and then he stops. That’s when you realize your critical mistake. 

“Is my cock so good you forgot your manners?” He says and your eyes fly open. 

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to recover, your head is too mixed up to know what’s up and what’s down and you’ve never played a scene where he’s a stranger before. You’re used to your rules, you’re used to calling him sir or daddy or master, but now you feel unmoored. 

“Now you don’t get to come,” He leans back, taking your wrists in his hands and pushing them down flat to the bed. 

You know better than to protest, but you’re sure he can feel you shaking. 

He drops closer, pinning you open with the weight of his body, his head nudging yours to the side, “Maybe you’ve forgotten who’s in control here, baby,” 

Liquid heat spreads through your body and you shake your head just a little. 

“So drunk on cock,” He bites at your ear, “you forgot you don’t want this,” 

Your pussy tightens, and you hear him chuckle. 

“Filthy,” He maneuvers your arms above your head so that he can close both your wrists together in one of his large hands, “fucked up little fucktoy,” 

Your eyes roll back and you fight the urge to move your hips, his words enough to put you on the precipice. 

A sharp slap stings over your exposed breast, your nipple hardening even more and Yunho draws his hips back before slamming forwards, driving you deeper into the squeaking mattress. At the painful stretch, the sharp sting inside, you do cry out. 

“Does it hurt?” He thrusts again, just as hard. 

You struggle under him, a little for play and a little because it does hurt, but you love the way he groans when you please him and you can’t stop, “Y-yes,” 

“Too bad,” His hand claps over your mouth and then he starts to fuck you again for real. 

Pleasure and pain in equal parts spike through your body, a perfect combination to get you right up to the edge of orgasm, but you know you’re not allowed. You moan into his hot hand, the sound feral and taut, tears gathering in your eyes and slipping down your temples into your hairline. 

Yunho slides the hand on your wrists up to clasp your hands together palm to palm, still pinning you to the bed but offering you a line of communication you desperately need in a scene like this. He doesn’t stop, but his eyes find yours in the dim light of the basement and he squeezes your hand once. You squeeze back just once, your silent sign to keep going. 

He keeps driving into you, cursing every time you moan and clench around his thick length, the mask of dominance slipping again as he starts to rut into you with artless, needy thrusts. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, with no regard for your own release. 

“No one’s coming to help you,” He groans, “you’re mine,”

 You can’t hear everything he says, not with your mind spinning so close to a forbidden orgasm and his pants and groans punctuating every few words, but you hear it when he says he’s coming inside you. 

Thrusting deep, he spills himself hot in your belly, hips grinding into yours to milk himself dry as he moans into your ear. The bubble of your own pleasure builds with every rock of his body and you whimper into his hand, tears spilling over as you try not to let it take you. 

Yunho’s hand pulls away from your mouth and suddenly his fingers are rubbing fast and firm on your swollen clit, his cock still buried deep. 

“Ah, n-no, please,” You grip his hand tightly and lock your eyes closed, trying to pull yourself back from the edge, “please,” 

“Fuck,” He groans, overstimulated. 

You’re going to come, there’s no way to hold back if he’s going to torture you like this and you thrash under him, “I can’t,” you’re sobbing in earnest now, “I can’t hold it,” 

“Shit,” He curses sharply, “come, sweetheart, come, I’m so sorry,” 

At his permission, your pleasure rips through you, a hot slice of rapture rocketing up your body. Your ears are ringing, black dots over your vision, and your body wrenches up with tight shakes in a way that only a soul shattering orgasm could do. You vaguely hear your own voice, a babbled string of ‘thank-yous’ and sobs, but it feels like someone else. All you know is warmth, and the deliciousness of earned pleasure. 

When consciousness starts to creep back in, the first thing you feel is Yunho’s gentle hands on your cheeks. He’s murmuring something, but it takes your mind a second to process, and you blink your eyes open slowly to find his face. 

“Hey,” He’s back to soft and warm, your tender lover, “oh, there you are,” 

“Mm,” You manage. 

He looks you over slowly, warm brown eyes flicking over your skin, “Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head, still boneless and trembling in the scratchy blankets. 

“Hmm?” He nudges you, pushing for a verbal response. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, but your voice is small. 

Yunho, so attuned to you, looks back up and shifts up the bed to meet your eyes, “Feeling floaty?” 

“Mm,” You nod, recognizing distantly that the intensity of your play tonight pushed you right into subspace. 

“Ah,” He smiles warmly, “come here,” 

He gathers you close, arms wrapping around you as he tucks you into his chest and pulls the plaid camp blanket up higher over both of your naked bodies. His skin feels so essential, a necessity like eating or breathing, and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 

“You’re okay,” He soothes you, stroking your back, “you’re safe, you’re safe with me,” 

A heavy breath releases from your chest. 

“That’s it,” He kisses your forehead, “breathe with me, relax with me,” 

Your muscles release one by one. 

“That was just a fantasy,” He soothes you, easing the knotted up feelings in your body with practiced words, “it was just pretend,” 

You nod. 

“Just pretend,” He murmurs, lips tender against your forehead, “none of that was real, nothing I said. I love you, and I will always keep you safe, sweetheart,” 

Your fingers relax, and you realize how firmly you were gripping his arms. 

“There you go,” He murmurs, “I’ve got you,” 

“Yunho?” You manage, your body feeling heavy once again as you start to center. 

He shifts, cupping your cheek as he leans back to get a good look at you, “Right here,” 

“H-hey,” You give him a lazy smile. 

He nods, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me where you are?” 

“Basement at the party,” You answer. 

“Good,” He nods, “now tell me who you’re with?” 

“You, Yunho,” You reply, practiced now at the routine he uses to help ground you out of the scene and bring you back into reality. 

“Good,” He continues, “tell me three things you can see,” 

You glance around the room, “Old playstation, bicycle,” you look back to him, “your necklace,” 

He smiles as you touch the silver chain around his neck, “Good,” 

You stretch your stiff limbs in his arms and try to snuggle back into his hold but he’s not done yet, especially after a scene that new and that intense. 

“Any pain?” His hands slide over your body. 

“No,” You assure him, “a little sore, but I feel good,” 

He nods, but keeps looking you over anyway. When he turns your hands in his and finds your scratched palms a little line forms between his brows, “What’s this?” 

You look down at the red skin, a few shallow cuts here and there, “I fell,” 

“Fell?” His brow goes high with alarm, “when?” 

“When I was running, I took the stairs too fast,” You tell him honestly, “but it doesn’t hurt, I promise,” 

His fingers trace over the broken skin and he nods, “You promised you’d call the scene if you got hurt,” 

For how rough this man can be with you, for how many times he’s bruised you and made you bleed, he never fails to surprise you at just how tender and soft he is outside of the bedroom. 

“Baby,” You close your fingers over his, “you promised you’d trust me to know my own limits, I’m not hurt, I got a little scrape,” 

His lips close as he considers your words and then he nods, leaning in to kiss each of your palms warmly, “I want to disinfect these at home,” 

“Okay,” You murmur. 

“Anywhere else?” 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head. 

“But sore?” He confirms.

“A bit,” 

His fingers find your jaw, massaging the muscle there, “When we get home, we’ll run a warm bath. I’ll take care of all your aches, I know I was rough with you,” 

You sigh pleasantly, relaxing into the warmth of his hand and he nods, dipping his face towards yours and capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. 

“You did so perfect for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, voice threaded with emotion, “I’m so… is it too lame to say honored? I… you were so amazing, and you trusted me like that and I,” 

“Yunho,” You smooth back his hair and pull him closer, “I’m alright,” 

His eyes flick over your face, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” You give him the clarity he needs to know he didn’t hurt you, “you made me feel very safe, even though I was kind of terrified,” 

He stays quiet, like he’s gauging the honesty of your words. 

“Even when I was scared,” You lean in, kissing him quickly, “I knew you wouldn’t take it too far, and you checked in with me. I’m okay, I liked it, I love you,” 

“You didn’t push yourself too hard for me?” He always worries about that, the double edged sword of a submissive who’s desperate to please. 

“No,” You smooth your hand over his cheek, “I liked it alot,”

He nods and snuggles you closer, his fingertips coasting up and down your back softly. He’s quiet for a few minutes, just letting you both come down as easy as you can with thrumming house music upstairs. 

“You liked it?” He finally confirms, carding his fingers through your hair. 

You nod, “A lot,” 

“What I said,” He kisses the top of your head, “during, about you liking it, that was fantasy too, you know that right?” 

You’re quiet, taking in his words. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He continues softly, “there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting it, all of that was pretend, okay?” 

“I know,” You kiss his chest, nodding against his shoulder. 

“I love you,” He squeezes you, “you know that too, right?” 

You smile, wiggling up in his arms to see his face, “I do,” you kiss him softly, “I love you too,” 

He nods and sighs, “I lost my head a little at the end there,” he admits, “I didn’t communicate well when you needed it, I’m sorry about that.” 

Your brows knit together in confusion. 

“I should have given you permission sooner,” He explains, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “I forgot myself in the scene, I didn’t mean to push you so hard.” 

“Oh,” You smile, “Yunho, I’m alright,” 

“I know you are,” He dips in for a kiss, “but I’m still sorry,” 

“Thank you,” You murmur, pressing your lips back to his, staying warm and still and soft in this moment together, “I know you’ll always take care of me,” 

He nods, his broad hand brushing down your hair. 

“How was the party?” You nudge him a little. 

He smiles, “Fine,” he shrugs, “I was too focused on looking for you, I think everyone thinks something’s up with me.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” You laugh. 

“Mm,” He nods, “and now I disappeared and we made a mess of this basement,” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you cut my underwear off, how am I supposed to get out of here,” 

“I brought backups,” He grins wide, proud of himself for thinking that far ahead. 

“You’re a genius,” 

“There is a back door out of the basement though, right?” He looks up around the room trying to find one. 

“Yeah,” You reach out, pointing around the back corner, “why?” 

“It’s extremely obvious that you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life,” He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and stretches next to you, so casual about the way he just rearranged your insides, “and I’m not so sure you’re going to walk straight,”

You laugh sharply and shake your head, “Take me home,” 

“Scary movies on the couch?” He squeezes your thigh as he rolls away, searching for his clothes. 

You shiver, “Maybe, that might be too close to home,” 

Nudging your knee he smiles, “Don’t worry, baby, it’s just a movie.”

[sleepy-n-thinkin-stuff]

Saying this as both an Outlast and Mouthwashing lover.

A lot of people in the Mouthwashing fandom would not be able to handle it in the Outlast fandom, especially when it comes to liking characters.

Especially on tik tok, it seems the Mouthwashing fandom is so strict with what it does and doesn't allow, like I hate Jimmy as much as the next guy, but it's not a crime for someone to draw him or include him in the cast. He's an IMPORTANT part of the plot. The tik tok fandom also seems to say Mouthwashing shouldn't have a fandom point blank period because it's "too deeply thought out" and fanfics, ocs, and such shouldn't exist because it "ruins the story".

Meanwhile Outlast is a horrific, well thought out game with several installments, and the fandom is (mostly) chill. Like it's abundantly clear these guys aren't good people or even conventionally attractive to most people, yet they're adored and people make silly jokes of them all the time and make tons of fanfics, aus, and ocs. Hell, 90% if the fandom's favorite or second favorite dude is a guy who cuts people's dicks off and then kills them.

This isn't meant to say you can't have boundaries or things you like/dislike, but much of the Mouthwashing fandom overpolicies the fandom, and some even say Mouthwashing shouldn't have a fandom period because it's "too serious and dark" while Outlast is serious and dark yet no one cares what you do in the fandom.

Both are horror games with great stories.

Both produce gorgeous fanart and deep theories, and it's clear love is put into several art pieces and theories.

Difference is, a majority of one fandom can't handle fandom ACTING like fandom.

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

Mini edit: Honestly this could be about fandom as a whole nowadays but given they're both horror games, albeit different types, with fan bases, that I love, I decided to compare them. Lets try to be civil please in discussion.

Edit 2: Okay, this got a lot more attention than I thought. TO AGAIN CLARIFY, its okay to have boundaries and personal reasons you may not like a character but like another. Same goes for certain aspects of fandom culture. But there's also the aspect of "block/scroll and move on". Frankly, my examples from Mouthwashing were things I have personally seen that you may not have, hence why some of you may be confused.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

The Mini Guide to Crafting Compelling Royal Characters for Fiction Writers

Creating royal characters can be both exciting and challenging. These regal figures often play pivotal roles in stories, capturing readers' imaginations with their power, privilege, and the weight of responsibility they carry. Whether you're writing historical fiction, fantasy, or contemporary novels featuring monarchs, this comprehensive (mini) guide will help you develop authentic, multi-dimensional royal characters that will resonate with your readers.

Understanding the Basics of Royalty

Before diving into character creation, it's essential to have a solid grasp of what royalty entails. Royalty typically refers to members of a ruling family, including kings, queens, princes, princesses, and other nobles within a monarchical system. These individuals are often born into their roles, though some may ascend to power through marriage or other means.

Key aspects to consider:

Hierarchy and succession

Royal duties and responsibilities

Protocol and etiquette

The concept of divine right (in some cultures)

The relationship between royalty and their subjects

Remember, while these elements are common in many royal systems, you have the creative freedom to adapt or reimagine them for your fictional world.

Developing Your Royal Character's Background

Every character, royal or not, needs a rich backstory. For royal characters, this background is particularly crucial as it shapes their worldview, values, and decision-making processes.

Consider the following:

a) Lineage: What is your character's family history? Are they from a long-standing dynasty or a newly established royal house?

b) Upbringing: How were they raised? Were they groomed for leadership from birth, or did they have a more sheltered upbringing?

c) Education: What kind of education did they receive? Was it formal, focusing on statecraft and diplomacy, or more well-rounded?

d) Relationships: How do they relate to their family members, courtiers, and subjects?

e) Personal experiences: What significant events have shaped their character and outlook on life?

Crafting a Unique Personality

Avoid the trap of creating one-dimensional royal stereotypes. Your character should be as complex and nuanced as any other well-developed protagonist or antagonist.

Consider these aspects:

a) Strengths and weaknesses: What are your character's admirable qualities? What flaws do they struggle with?

b) Motivations: What drives them? Is it a sense of duty, personal ambition, or something else entirely?

c) Internal conflicts: What personal struggles do they face? How do these conflicts affect their rule and relationships?

d) Hobbies and interests: What passions do they pursue outside of their royal duties?

e) Sense of humor: How do they express humor, if at all? Is it dry wit, sarcasm, or something else?

Balancing Power and Vulnerability

One of the most intriguing aspects of royal characters is the juxtaposition between their immense power and their human vulnerabilities. This balance can create compelling internal and external conflicts for your character.

Consider:

The weight of responsibility and its impact on their personal life

The isolation that often comes with a royal position

The constant scrutiny they face from the public and court

The struggle between personal desires and duty to the crown

Creating a Believable Royal World

Your royal character doesn't exist in a vacuum (I hope not). They're part of a larger royal ecosystem that includes family members, advisors, courtiers, and subjects. Developing this world adds depth and authenticity to your story.

Key elements to consider:

Court dynamics and politics

Relationships with other noble houses or kingdoms

The role of advisors and how they influence decisions

Traditions and customs specific to your royal setting

The economic and social structure of the kingdom

Addressing the Challenges of Royal Life

Royal characters face unique challenges that can drive your plot and character development. Some common themes include:

a) Succession disputes b) Balancing personal happiness with duty c) Navigating political alliances and conflicts d) Managing public opinion and maintaining legitimacy e) Dealing with threats to their rule or life

Use these challenges to create tension and drive your story forward while revealing more about your character's personality and values.

The Impact of Historical Context

If you're writing historical fiction or a fantasy inspired by real-world monarchies, it's crucial to consider the historical context. Research the time period and culture you're drawing from to ensure authenticity in your character's behavior, beliefs, and challenges.

Key areas to research:

Social norms and expectations of the time

Political systems and power structures

Technology and its impact on governance

Religious beliefs and their influence on royalty

Gender roles and how they affect royal duties and succession

Avoiding Common Pitfalls

When creating royal characters, be mindful of these common mistakes:

a) Making them too perfect or too villainous b) Ignoring the realities of royal life (e.g., lack of privacy, constant duties) c) Overlooking the impact of their decisions on their subjects d) Failing to show growth or change over the course of the story e) Relying too heavily on stereotypes or clichés

Incorporating Royal Etiquette and Protocol

Royal characters often adhere to strict codes of conduct and protocol. While you don't need to become an expert in royal etiquette, incorporating some of these elements can add authenticity to your story:

Forms of address (Your Majesty, Your Highness, etc.)

Court ceremonies and rituals

Dress codes and regalia

Rules of precedence in social situations

Diplomatic protocols when interacting with other royals or dignitaries

Exploring Different Types of Royal Characters

Remember that not all royal characters need to be ruling monarchs. Consider exploring other royal roles, such as:

The rebel prince or princess who rejects their royal duties

The reluctant heir thrust into power unexpectedly

The exiled royal fighting to reclaim their throne

The royal spouse adapting to life in the palace

The illegitimate child discovering their royal heritage

Each of these archetypes offers unique storytelling opportunities and challenges for character development.

Balancing Historical Accuracy and Creative License

If you're writing historical fiction featuring real royalty, you'll need to strike a balance between historical accuracy and creative interpretation. While it's important to respect known facts and timelines, you also have the freedom to explore the inner lives and motivations of these historical figures.

Tips for balancing accuracy and creativity:

Thoroughly research the historical figure and their time period

Clearly differentiate between historical fact and fictional interpretation

Use author's notes to explain any significant departures from known history

Focus on filling in the gaps in the historical record rather than contradicting established facts

Developing Royal Character Arcs

Like any well-rounded character, your royal protagonist should undergo growth and change throughout your story. Consider how their experiences might challenge their beliefs, alter their perspective, or force them to confront their flaws.

Possible character arcs for royal characters:

From naive idealist to pragmatic ruler

From reluctant heir to confident leader

From isolated monarch to connected leader who understands their subjects

From power-hungry tyrant to benevolent ruler (or vice versa)

Remember, character growth doesn't always have to be positive. Sometimes, the most compelling stories involve characters who face moral decline or tragic falls from grace.

Remember, while the trappings of royalty may be grand, at their core, your royal characters are still human. They love, fear, hope, and struggle like anyone else. It's this humanity, set against the backdrop of power and responsibility, that makes royal characters so fascinating to read and write about.

Happy writing, - Rin T

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

[thesummerstorms]

I feel like there's a solid group of fans (in all fandoms) who forget that there ARE differences between fanfiction and traditional publishing.

Transformative work is great about allowing you to explore secondary POVs and characters who aren't the focus of a text.

But traditionally published books are by their nature more constrained in their format. The physical nature of books + the publishing system means they only have so many pages. And those pages need to serve the central narrative of a story.

It can be fun to puzzle out 'man but what about the implications of x'? or 'oh, I feel like there's a connection between A and B, that's fun to think about!' or 'okay, but from Character M's point of view this is so tragic, even though they literally only exist in three scenes'. That's why transformative work is transformative, and for me, it's the fun part of fandom!

But what that doesn't mean is that the author is being mean or cowardly for not exploring those things in the source text. An author's focus has to be ultimately on the story THEY want to tell, and what makes that narrative or those themes work.

They do not have the luxury of including every digression your brain might have fun exploring, and it doesn't make them bad authors if their narrative focus isn't the one you would have personally chosen.

"But such and such character was robbed! They only appeared in x scenes and then-"

Okay, but did the scenes they were in serve their purpose? Did we get a sense of how they meaningfully impacted other characters, the plot, or the themes while still having a sense of personhood?

You can critique whether or not an author was successful in using their characters for story purposes or whether they successfully communicated their underlying message or whether the author unintentionally/intentionally included a bias that weakens their writing.

But an author not chosing to spotlight your particular minor character favorite does not make them a "coward" or bad at their craft.

[adieutristana]

painkiller; jinx x fem!reader

kinda nervous to post this one idk if it’s too nasty oops

characters included; jinx

summary; it’s that time of the month, and cramps have you down for the count. jinx is all too eager to help.

tags/warnings; dom!jinx, sub!reader, period sex, tribbing, dirty talk, NASTY, porn with plot (kinda)

men and minors dni.

fizz... BOOM!

another experiment blowing up in jinx's face, figuratively and literally. the girl huffs in light frustration as she lifts her goggles to rest atop her head, using her elbow to wipe gunpowder off her face. another failed experiment.

she's used to it by now, though- these things never go smoothly. it's a process of trial and error rather than one smooth testing sequence, one she's come to embrace. all the girl can do new is pick up the pieces of the last experiment, identify and fix her errors, and try again.

but the sound of you groaning behind her is making it increasingly hard to focus.

you're curled up on your side on jinx's cot, your knees tugged tight to your chest. you've been like this for the past hour or so, softly rocking yourself while you make little grunts in pain. you're on your period- and while your periods usually give you discomfort, this is the worst it's been in a while. bad enough that you didn't go to any of your classes today, and that's something you never do.

you'd already taken pain medicine, already tried a warm compress... nothing is helping. just you and your cramps, and you have to tough it out.

your girlfriend then turns around in her chair with a short huff. her brows are furrowed, and she crosses her arms over her chest.

"alright, what's all this fussing about?" she asks, clearly a bit impatient.

"i just.. ah," you grumble, trying to uncurl yourself just a bit. but as soon as you do another cramp hits, and you're forced to retreat back into your own embrace. "it's that time of the month. second day."

jinx's expression drops, and her eyes widen just a bit. second day- that's rough.

"oh," she purses her lips. "why didn't ya tell me? i could've been helping you out."

"you're busy. i didn't wanna distract you..."

jinx quickly scrambles to her feet, crouching beside her workbench to begin shuffling through drawers. it's a bit comical how she doesn't keep track of where things are in her own space, but she digs through regardless. first drawer is just a bunch of stray blueprints and paint cans, second is... toys, third is assorted magazines and books, and fourth is where she keeps first-aid supplies. supplies you'd given her after seeing her patch up her leg with a stapler.

"a-ha! got it!"

she scampers over to you, crouching beside you as she unwraps a heat pad and begins pushing up your shirt. you just sigh at the sight, though, and shake your head.

"i already tried a hot water bottle, babe."

"yeah, well that's a water bottle. this is a heating pad. maybe it'll be different."

she sticks the pad to your lower stomach, applying a bit of pressure (earning a few giggles from you) before she tugs your shirt back down. the girl steps back, placing her hands on her hips in that confident way she always does.

"ta-da! it should start working in..." she glances at the back of the box again. "fifteen minutes! then you'll feel all better. no more pesky cramps."

she gives your arm one last firm pat before standing up and making her way back to the workbench. it's seconds before you can hear a blowtorch and metal clinking, sounds you've become all too familiar with. laid on your back now, you can only close your eyes while you wait for the heat pad to start working- that is, if it does work. you've tried everything you can at this point, but it still feels like you're being ripped from the inside out. your stomach hurts, your lower back hurts, you've been feeling nauseous on and off the entire day. thankfully, it's off right now.

waiting is the hard part, but as you feel the heat spread over your lower stomach, it does work. not to the extent you'd like, but you'll take anything at this point. the pain eases over the next few minutes while the sounds of jinx working fade into the background. you're a bit more mobile now, able to sit up (although with a slouch still)- but you can watch jinx, you could put something on the tv if you wanted to.

for now, though, you'll just stay laid on your side with the heat pad working its magic. the girl in front of you wheels herself around swiftly, tweaking blueprints and humming to herself while she works on.. something. she'd told you she was trying to concentrate the hex crystal's energy into other mediums, but nothing was successful yet. though knowing jinx and how smart she is, how resourceful, it's a matter of time before she figures something out.

she then swivels her chair around, facing you with wide eyes before she wheels herself over to you. the girl stops right in front of her cot, placing a hand over the pad on your stomach.

"feeling better?" she hums.

"for the most part," you murmur, giving her a weak smile. "it still hurts a little, but i expected that."

but jinx's face just twists a bit, and she wrinkles her nose in discontentment. "mm... that's no good. the pain should be gone, like- totally gone."

"babe, really, i don't expect this thing to work miracles."

"but toooots, i don't like seeing you hurting!" she nearly whines, and leans forward over her knees in thought. her face twists again, a look you've come to recognize. she's trying to figure something out, ever the problem-solver.

one thing you've come to recognize, and love about jinx is that she's fiercely protective. she can't stand the thought of anyone or anything hurting you, even if it's your own uterus once a month. she cares, she only wants the best for you, she only wants to see you happy. you rocking yourself in her cot to ease the cramps that are wracking your body? no good.

then you hear her gasp, and snap her fingers.

"i got it!"

she then climbs on the cot with you, swinging a leg over to straddle your lower half. jinx is wearing a wide, toothy grin, as if she's just cracked the code.

"i know what'll help your little... dilemma," she chuckles, her fingernails trailing down your stomach towards the waistband of your shorts. her tone is smooth, calculated- the kind that comes right before trouble. the coldness of the metal finger sends a shiver down your spine, but she stops just short of the elastic to look back up at you. "if you'll let me."

but it sends your mind reeling. she can't seriously be suggesting that, can she?

"baby, i'm on my period," you stress.

"yeah, i know that. and?"

"and, it's my second day, and there's a lot of blood, and i," you huff, crossing your arms over your chest with a light frown. you'd be lying if you said that this wasn't enticing. you can feel your heartbeat quickening and the hairs on your arms stand on end, but you can't. it's too messy, probably too risky. "i feel gross..."

but jinx just scoffs, rolling her rosy eyes as if it's nothing to her.

"okay, so we'll put down some towels. no big deal." she pokes your side playfully. "you're anything but gross, toots. come onnn, it'll make you feel good! they say orgasms make cramps better. like... an organic painkiller."

you're still not fully sold, though, and jinx just sighs in mild exasperation. you want this, you do. but it'll be messy, things could go wrong, you feel the furthest thing from sexy right now. she leans down, pressing a gentle kiss against the pulse point of your neck, eliciting a gasp from you.

"baby, i wanna do this," she murmurs, plump lips brushing the skin of your neck. "i'll make you feel real good, promise."

and damn it, she's convincing. she's offering.

"...okay," you whisper, swallowing as you glance down at jinx. "but we put those towels down."

her lips curve into a wide grin, and she just nods, giving a mock-salute while she crawls off you. "you got it!"

she's back in a matter of seconds with a few already paint-stained towels, gesturing for you to lift your hips- which you do, so she can place them down. she's then crawling over you again, one arm on either side of your head while she gazes down. like a predator about to pounce on their prey, she's smiling at you like she's about to devour you. saying she wants to is an understatement.

you don't have more than a split second to think before she surges down, and her lips crash into yours- already heated and quick, her lips moving against yours with fervor. you gasp, trying to match her eager pace, but your efforts seem futile. even with the lingering aches, you're learning rather quickly that jinx doesn't plan on being gentle tonight.

dark lips trail over your jawline, peppering down the expanse of your neck while she feels you already beginning to squirm. as if jinx's ego needs to get any bigger, her gapped teeth nip at your skin a few times, her hands beginning to run up and down your sides. gripping you, digging into the fat on your hips for just a moment before she takes the edge of the heat pad.

"you won't need this," she murmurs against your neck, before slowly pulling it off. the removal stings, adhesive gripping your skin, but it's over in a matter of seconds.

not wasting any time, she resumes kissing down your soft skin. trailing to your collarbones, then right over your heart- fingers toying with the hemline of your top while she continues exploring you with her lips alone. it's intense, it's fast, but throughout all of the rough passion you can tell how much jinx cares. she slowly slips the fabric over your head with you eagerly lifting your arms to assist her.

her bangs brushing over your ribs tickle a bit, but you can only softly gasp while she continues her descent. down your sternum, reaching one of her hands towards your bare breast to pinch your nipple- your back arching the slightest bit into her touch.

"yeah? feel good?" she chuckles, rolling the bud between her thumb and forefinger.

"mhm," you nod, a low whine rumbling in the back of your throat.

"mm... good. you know i love these pretty tits."

she lets out a satisfied hum, giving your nipple one last hard pinch before she drags her tongue down the valley between your breasts.

it's electric, the feeling of her warm tongue on your skin. her skin is cold, but her presence is so warm, so inviting. you wish you could stay wrapped in her embrace forever. that you'd never have to give up jinx's touch, no matter how calloused her fingers may be or how gruff her words.

she leaves one final kiss on your lower stomach, right over your uterus- as if to kiss the soreness away, before hooking her cold fingers into the waistband of your shorts to hastily pull them down. they're discarded quickly, as are your panties. you're already leaking a bit over the towels, but that's what they're there for, aren't they?

"so pretty... you're shakin' already. i haven't even touched ya, trinket!"

"i- i can't help it," you breathe out, but jinx just chuckles.

the anticipation builds, and builds, but to your surprise, jinx leans back to sit on her knees and begin undressing herself. her cropped top is the first to go, revealing those perky tits you love so much. your throat goes dry at the sight, but she quickly unbuckles her belt and slips off her pants, leaving her in just a pair of black panties as she crawls back over you.

she then giggles to herself, before slowly removing the final garment, leaving her bare. she's enjoying this, observing your confused expression. and then- she slots herself between your legs, and your eyes widen.

"jinx, you're-"

but she cuts you off with a soft 'shh' as she scoots another inkling close to you, cores not quite touching yet.

"just let me do my thing, baby," she drawls, a lazy smile on her face.

"but you'll get all messy," you argue. it's a weak protest and you know it, but you don't want to cause more trouble than necessary.

"you're adorable," she huffs, rolling her eyes. "all worried about making a mess. that's half the fun, toots!"

and then her heat presses to yours, and you gasp. she starts moving-slowly, tentatively, as if to test the waters. your hands hastily find the dip of her waist, gripping on for stability while she grinds against yours. you feel a brush of your clits, then another- and with your heightened hormones, it sends you spiraling.

"baby, i- haah.."

"yeeeeeah," she drawls out, looking down between both of your legs. it's downright vulgar, how your needy pussies are pressed right against each other, grinding and sliding together with wet squelches as blood distributes between the two of you. "you hear that? how wet you are? she's tellin' me how bad she wants this- mmph.."

your hips move in tandem with hers. the more you go on, the less you're able to hold back, it's everything you didn't know you needed.

the pace becomes more and more frenzied with each passing moment, jinx grabbing at your tits, fingernails digging into your asscheeks, licking stripes up your neck while your hands move to her peach of an ass to push her further against you. your head falls back if only for a second, lewd moans and whines escaping you. you can feel it- there's a filthy mess between the two of you, spread across both of your inner thighs and a bit of jinx's lower stomach. but neither of you can be bothered to care.

she's panting, lips parted while your eyes nearly glaze over with the feeling. the sweat alone is causing your mascara to run, but it only serves to make the girl more desperate. seeing you so utterly wrecked, it does something to her.

"gonna fuck you real good- ngh, make ya forget allll about those cramps," she breathes out, nails leaving little 'c' shapes in the flesh of your hips. "don't stop, don't you fucking dare stop!"

"gods, please," you whimper, your head falling forward onto her shoulder.

your soaking cunt ruts against hers with the urgency of a needy mutt, chasing ecstasy like your life depends on it. your comfort does, at least. a broken medley of 'pleasepleaseplease's leave you, although you're too far gone at this point to tell exactly what you're begging for. for her to keep going? for your release? and you just hear high-pitched whines right in your ear, breathy and shrill. the rasp of your girlfriend's voice never fails to make you squirm.

"please, it's so good, so good-"

"i know, baby, fuck-" she grunts, another sharp brush of your clits making her hips stutter. her gapped teeth sink into her lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. "uuhh, you feel so fucking good! shit, baby! you've- ah, got no idea how good this pussy is!"

you're near the edge, the contracting in your lower stomach replaced by a familiar coiling. the towels below you are a painting of crimson, your bodies both covered in a thin sheen of sweat while your needy pussies meet again and again. the knot gets tighter and tighter with each movement, threatening to break at any second-

"uungh, jinx, i'm gonna- gonna!"

she then lunges forward to crash her lips against yours, immediately shoving her hot tongue past your lips like she wants to consume you. it's a whirlwind of teeth and tongue, clashing together like a thunderstorm while your tongue swirls with hers, explores her mouth, lips moving with a speed you can't track down- drool dripping down your chin. and still, the movements don't stop.

you can tell she's close too, by the way her toned abs clench with each grind. but she's trying to get you there first, ever dedicated to helping you.

you pull back with a high cry of her name, feeling the thread finally snap- and your vision goes white for a second. it's as if the rest of the world is completely gone, reduced only to you and the girl pressed against your body.

"jinx- aaah! shit, shit! cumming, cumming-"

and you feel her follow right after, her breath trembling and hips stuttering as she feels her orgasm wash over her.

"gah, fuuuuck! that's it- that's, ohh!"

your synchronized moans sound like something out of a dirty movie, low and needy and pathetic, but so fucking delicious. her bangs stuck to her forehead, spittle dripping down your chin, blood and cum mixed between your cunts and inner thighs- and it's perfect.

a moment of silence follows, both of you panting out. neither of you move, just letting the moment linger. the mess between you ever-present. your mind is too hazy to make out exactly what just happened, flushed and sweaty- but the cramps are gone. completely gone.

"...feel better?" jinx breathes out, voice gravelly.

"yeah," you nod, slowly. "a lot better."