#very little polish but its okay You all are not here for QUALITY youre here for YAOI

[twslug]

warsh_tippy and zelda by whatever, dad

#i need everyone to understand my primal craving for soft domesticity in the context of a high intensity competitive sport #it is so important to me.... #just a little drabble #very little polish but its okay You all are not here for QUALITY youre here for YAOI #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #this one goes out to my twitter mutuals

[fickleminder]

everybody talks

DWBD AU. Five times the brothers talked about your friends, and one time the lesser demons talked about them.

DWBD AU masterlist here.

(1)

No. 2 handed over the folders with a salute. “Here are the student files, as requested! Will there be anything else?”

Lucifer scanned through the papers and hummed thoughtfully. “Tell me, did anything about them stand out to you?”

“Not really, these guys are just your average lesser demons.” The Little D shrugged. “They’re nobodies, and personally I don’t think they pose a threat to the human.”

The first born found himself agreeing with No. 2’s assessment. The seven lesser demons you’d been hanging out with seemed harmless enough. So long as you weren’t in danger of getting yourself killed here or causing him problems, he couldn’t care less who you chose to associate with.

“Very well, that’ll be all. You’re dismissed.”

.

.

.

(2)

Levi waited until you left the room before blurting out what’d been on his mind all afternoon. “Is it really okay for us to be doing this?”

“Doing what? There’s nothing wrong with spending some quality time with our housemate.”

“Well, no, but I mean… I feel a little bad for the lesser demons. We practically stole their friend from them, just like that anime with the protagonist getting transported to a parallel dimension where their allies were enemies and their enemies were lovers and—”

“It’s not our fault Barbatos lost control of his magic,” Asmo huffed as he packed up his nail polish. “Sucks to be them, but this is our second chance! You wouldn’t want to waste this opportunity, would you?”

Levi frowned, but shook his head. “They won’t give up so easily though.”

Asmo’s gaze hardened. “Well, neither will we.”

.

.

.

(3)

“Ingenious.” Satan examined the stuffed flame salamander carefully before setting it down and removing his protective gloves. “It’s a tricky curse, but well-executed.”

“Aha!” Mammon yelled while nursing his burnt hands. “See, I knew I could count on you, little bro! Those pesky lesser demons have some nerve giving our human a cursed toy!”

“Hmm, I wonder what prompted them to do so in the first place…”

Mammon swallowed nervously when Satan glared at him. “I— I was just checking to make sure there was nothing wrong with it! I wasn’t gonna sell it or anything! Besides, what if someone else touched it by accident and hurt themselves, huh?”

Satan nodded solemnly. “You’re right. A stuffed toy that’s harmless to its owner but burns everyone else is a hazard. You’ll be glad to know that I’ve already taken the liberty to do something about this curse.”

“Great! Now if you don’t mind, I’ll just take this back and— YEOWCH! You son of a— What did you do?!”

“Why, I made it stronger of course. And permanent.”

“Traitor!”

.

.

.

(4)

“You’re thinking about it again.”

“Mm, yeah.”

Beel hummed thoughtfully around a mouthful of steak. “Why don’t you just ask?”

“…It’s a big decision. I don’t want to be ordered around like a slave—”

“You know that won’t happen—”

“—but it’s a special connection, you know?”

“Yeah. I’m just worried… What if we wait too long and the lesser demons beat us to the punch?”

Belphie’s eyes snapped open at the thought. You, holding pacts with lesser demons instead of Avatars like them… It’s insulting to say the least, especially when you lived under their roof. “They wouldn’t dare,” he hissed, knowing you were too nice to make the first move.

Beel shrugged and went back to eating, but even he didn’t seem so hungry anymore.

.

.

.

(5)

A large stuffed cat poked its head through the doorway and waved at you. The brothers watched as your eyes lit up and you made grabby hands towards the toy, before Igfuur finally entered your ward and handed you his gift, which was at least half your size.

Satan was practically green with envy, and Levi had to nudge him out of it lest he broke the pen he was using to take notes. Luckily Asmo was secretly videoing the whole thing for them to study later.

Your favorite colors, your favorite flowers… those were just some of the things the brothers tried to glean from the balloons and other presents surrounding your bed. It was like they were getting to know you all over again, but this time they had to do it through your friends instead.

“At least some of them have a reasonable head on their shoulders,” Lucifer muttered to himself, having overheard the pink one getting vetoed about hosting a party in a hospital. Good intentions, but wrong time, wrong place.

“Tch, I still think you should’ve said no.” Mammon grumbled. “I mean, what can they give that we can’t, huh?!” None of your gifts were overly expensive or anything, but even he could recognize most of them as replacements for something he’d pilfered from your room before. Mammon’s heart cracked with guilt at the fact that he couldn’t even afford you basic decency.

The twins watched quietly from one corner. “It’s like they’re their own little family. Do you think we could—” be yours one day too? Beel cut himself off with a frown. Would you even want to, after all they put you through?

“…At least they know what they’re doing,” Belphie grunted. Your friends made you happy, so he could forgive them for hogging you all to themselves.

For now.

.

.

.

(+1)

“You’re alive!” Erkid glomped Dracius when he finally staggered back to the group, looking as though he was about to faint any second now. “How’d it go? Can we—”

“Hold on, first things first!” Belyth marched over and grabbed Dracius by the shoulders, checking him from head to toe. “Still breathing, all limbs intact, not cursed… Yup, he’s good.”

Rache was practically vibrating with anticipation. “So? So? Can we visit or not?”

“He said yes…” Dracius mumbled, still somewhat dazed.

“But?” Talon’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. I gave him our tribute, I asked, and he said yes. That’s it.”

“Really? Huh…” Vorgo scratched their chin. “That’s awfully generous of him. I guess we got worked up for nothing.”

“After all the effort we put in to get that rare vinyl record, this was pretty anticlimactic,” Igfuur grumbled.

The Avatars were your official hosts during the exchange program, so it made sense that the hospital had them listed as your emergency contact. Any requests for visitation rights had to be approved by them first, and Dracius had not been optimistic when he asked for an audience with Lucifer.

“You were the one who called 666?” Lucifer’s face was frighteningly blank after Dracius had finished speaking. He took a moment, relishing the way the lesser demon tried not to squirm under his gaze, before his eyes softened and his lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “You’ve done well. Permission granted.”

“All right then, no time to waste!” Rache declared, already searching for party supplies on her phone. “We’ll need balloons, flowers, get-well-soon cards, catering—”

Belyth gave a deep sigh. “Let’s not make him regret his decision, shall we?”

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #dwbd au

[batwhimpix]

An Interview with Former Takarazuka Top Star Asumi Rio: The Laidback Personality Behind the Handsome Face

(Translated by me 8/19/2021)

While still a member of the Takarazuka Revue, Asumi Rio was known for her sensitive acting which digs deep into the heart of each role, her crystal-clear vocals, and her captivating stage presence. As the top star of Flower Troupe, she gained an immense level of popularity. Now, it has been one year since her retirement from the company. She has expanded her repertoire from stage to screen, and continues to showcase new sides to her talent. In her first name-bearing variety program, the Hulu Original "Asumi Rio's Atelier," Asumi-san learns new tips and techniques to "step up" both her lifestyle and her design sense. Totally different from her intense onstage aura, this program offers a chance to get to know Asumi-san's soft and relaxed offstage persona.

It's been a year and a half since you left the Takarazuka Revue. How would you describe that period of time for you, Asumi-san?

When I was in the Revue, because I had managed to enter the world of Takarazuka, which was my absolute favorite place, I felt strongly that I didn't want to have any regrets. So I was very motivated to work as hard as I could to polish my craft. I was completely lost in it, but within that, I always had my fans cheering me on, and the guidance of so many around me. In the last year and a half, I've realized all over again just how precious a thing that was.

Until I left, my only experience was on the stage, so stepping into the world on screen for the first time, a lot of totally new forms of expression were expected from me, and I felt a lot of anxiety. Parting from Takarazuka and living as just one individual human, every day is full of challenges. But that said, every day now is also rich with new experiences and new possibilities, so I've come to face that with a lot of gratitude.

While you were in Takarazuka, there was a very clear image, that of a perfect "otokoyaku," to aspire to. Now that you don't have that anymore, what kind of actress are you aiming to become?

There are a lot of qualities I have now precisely because I was an otokoyaku, and I think it's probably okay for me to just embrace that. As top [abbrev. "top star", the starring otokoyaku actress in each troupe], I was in a position where I had to lead the troupe, watch over and guide all the other actresses, and shape each production as the lead actress. I think I've picked up a lot of grit through that experience, and even as a woman, I think having a bit of a masculine edge in your lifestyle and how you deal with things can be a positive, right?

Even when I was playing otokoyaku roles, moreso than aiming for a particular ideal, I came at each role separately, like, this time I'm playing this kind of man, next time I'm playing this kind of man. It was like a gradual broadening of my horizons. Now I'm simply adding female roles to that roster, so it's kind of like the scope of roles available to me has doubled. When it comes to my outward appearance, as my hair grows out and I transition toward a more feminine look, I've been having all kinds of new discoveries, like, "Oh, this kind of styling makes me feel like this." Within my drama roles as well, I like those discoveries like, if I do it like this, won't it be interesting, or if I do this, I can get viewers to say, "Oh!" I want to keep digging to find those little moments where I can really surprise people within each role.

Since your retirement from Takarazuka, what overall on-set experience sticks out the most in your memory?

I think that has to be the first show I had the opportunity to take part in, "Ochoyan" [NHK serialized telenovella]. Until I was on that set, I always thought that the stage was the most incredible place in the world. I would never find anywhere else where every member is so unified in their vision, where everyone has so much pride in their troupe and so much love for the production they're building together, as in Takarazuka. Even now, I still think Takarazuka is a very special place, and my love for it hasn't changed.

But on the set of "Ochoyan," like Takarazuka, there were so many staff working to create this thing, who truly loved the work and brought all kinds of skills to the table to bring it to life. Among the cast as well, the atmosphere during recording, where all of us in the Tsurugame Family Theater [the name of the theater company employing main character Takei Chiyo as well as Asumi-san's character Takamine Ruriko] really did feel like a family, wasn't that different from Takarazuka at all. On the contrary, because our time together was limited just to the recording of this show, it felt like everyone valued that time all the more. Being on a set like that was a huge experience for me.

In Takarazuka, you had a very hectic schedule. As soon as one production closed you were already thinking about the next. I'm sure your lifestyle has changed in a big way since then. What kind of feelings do you have about that?

I retired and moved here to Tokyo right around the start of the pandemic. During the lockdown, when I was in my house all day, I realized how long the day really is. Suddenly it was up to me to decide how to spend all this time in the day. I could use it to rest or, if I had some area I was struggling with, I could use it for training too. I had a renewed realization that depending on my own feelings, I could choose to change myself in any number of ways.

These days, how do you find yourself spending the majority of your time?

These days, I'm doing a lot of types of work I'm totally new to, and working on sets with people I've only just met, so I'm still in a place where I spend a lot of time nervous. When I'm on a set I haven't gotten used to yet, my antenna is going in all different directions, so after I get home I try to relax as much as possible. In order to fully refresh myself and go into work the next day in high spirits and ready to face whatever comes, I've been making a conscious effort to be kind to myself.

What activities allow you to refresh your batteries the most?

Zoning out, and eating delicious food.

On "Asumi Rio's Atelier," you gave steaming rice in a donabe [TN: earthenware pot traditionally used to steam rice, supposedly more delicious than steaming in a rice cooker] a try for the first time, but what kinds of things do you eat most often?

As long as it tastes good, I'll happily eat anything. I like vegetables, meat, fish, and I love carbs, too. Ideally, I want to eat a good balance of a lot of different things.

Speaking of that program, how were the topics for each episode decided? Were you able to make requests?

For "Atelier" we had the general framework that I would be trying different activities I was interested in from the onset, so basically they asked me, "What kind of things are you interested in? What do you want to try?" And then...Yeah, first I had about 30, then we added about 30 more, so in total about 60, ideas that we pitched. The program staff wanted to include as many of my requests as they could, so actually, within each episode there are probably three or four different ones. In addition to that, there's an interview in each episode that relates back to that episode's theme. I enjoyed the chance to reflect on my Takarazuka era and memories from my childhood.

On the topic of your Takarazuka era, in your first interview for us, you said, "I wasn't necessarily aiming to become top star." But within the system of Takarazuka, to climb all the way to top star, you must have been aware of something within yourself that made you want to aim higher?

Let's see...Ever since I was an underclassman, I had a strong drive to improve as an otokoyaku. I wanted people to find my performance interesting, and I wanted to be seen as a necessary part of the production. I wanted to act a lot, and I wanted to sing a lot of songs that I love. I wanted to bathe in the spotlight, and I was happy when I got to wear more gorgeous costumes. If I really think back on those feelings now, first in the shinjinkouen junior performances featuring only actresses who have been with the company seven years or less, and then in performances at the smaller Bow Hall theater next to the Takarazuka Grand Theater, inevitably I started aiming for the lead roles that would allow me to stand on stage for the longest every time.

Somewhere along that road, when I was told I was being transferred from the troupe I was first inducted into, Moon Troupe, to Flower Troupe, this feeling that I had wanted to be the Moon Troupe's successor welled to the surface. And since that's the same as saying, "I wanted to be the top star of Moon Troupe," that was the first time I became aware of that goal. Every troupe in Takarazuka has its own character, though, so after my transfer, I was desperate to hurry up and become an otokoyaku befitting Flower Troupe first...

So as you worked to further your artistic development, there at the zenith was top star.

If you were to ask my underclassman self, the Top-sans are unbelievably incredible performers, and the more shinjinkouens you experience, the more closely you come to understanding just how incredible they are. Then as you spend more years with the company and find yourself in a position where you're working directly under the Top-san, you realize how much work they're really doing, and...The more you know, the more you lose the ability to say something like "I want to be the top star" carelessly.

And yet, you bore the heavy responsibility of a top star for five-and-a-half years. It's hard to imagine from your usual laidback attitude, but when it comes to your art, you're incredibly diligent and strong-willed. That gap is captivating.

When it comes to theater, I'm very picky. I mean, I'm way too stubborn for one thing. Especially in productions where I'm playing the lead role, I always have really strong feelings about how I want to perform things, and I'm not in a position where I can hesitate to convey that. It's important to listen to the opinions of various other people too, but when it comes down to it, if I have a clear idea of the direction I want things to proceed and direct things with that in mind, it makes things easier for everyone else, so I always tried to communicate my thoughts clearly and directly. If I'm delivering consistently good work, there's a persuasive power to that. Not only do the underclassmen naturally follow along, but the staff listen and respond to my requests as well.

But when you're making this kind of production, you do have to be pretty strict. But then, the real me is more of a people pleaser. I want everyone to like me, or more like, I don't want to be disliked. I didn't want the younger underclassmen to feel like I was unapproachable or like they couldn't talk to me because I was the top star. I wanted them to think of me like family. So outside matters relating to work, I tried to give off as relaxed a vibe as possible. Definitely, I think there was quite a gap between "on" and "off" for me.

Are there a lot of differences between "Asumi Rio the otokoyaku" and "Asumi Rio the actress?" How about between your stage name persona and your private self under your birth name?

I've lived under my stage name for so much longer than my birth name that I feel like, at this point, the parts of myself that belong to my real name are few and far between. I do have the feeling that, in some respect, I've grown up together with my stage name. In essence, while I was in Takarazuka, I didn't worry too much about creating a separate persona. Thanks to the kindness of my fans and the environment I was in, I felt like I could leave my otokoyaku persona on the stage and stay pretty close to my natural self everywhere else. I guess the only thing is, when I'm alone in my house, I revert to goblin mode. (laughs wryly) Like I'll have trouble getting myself to go take a bath, or I really should clean but my back hurts, etc., etc.

By contrast, now that I've graduated from being an otokoyaku, a lot of the things I'm doing as an actress are total firsts for me, so I think I feel more discomfort with my presentation now than I did then. There are times when I get really nervous, and then I get disappointed in myself for feeling that way. Like, until just a little while ago, I was in a position where I was responsible for keeping everyone's morale up. I would get up on that stage like, "It's alright, just leave it to me," so what am I all anxious for now? I often think about how much I still have to learn, and how badly I want to hurry up and learn it so I can show the results of my efforts.

Is there a particular ideal you're currently pursuing? What kind of actress do you want to become, and what kind of woman?

Since leaving Takarazuka, I've had a lot more opportunity to meet all kinds of new people. On every set I've been on, each of the actresses I meet has their own unique aura, and seeing their acting up close, I'm blown away by each of them. Among the staff as well, there are so many different kinds of professionals of all ages, and I often find myself inspired by their work ethic and lifestyle. I'd like to continue to enrich my life by learning from the amazing people I meet and experiencing many new things, and work to become a more fully rounded human being.

*Bracketed notes not marked "TN" (Translator's Note) were present in the original article.

#mirio #asumi rio #takarazuka og #takarazuka #this interview is super detailed so i've been wanting to translate it for a while #she's such a stubborn person but i kind of admire that about her?? #must have been hell to work with at times tho #but such a calming presence offstage lol #hanagumi #tkz #og #mytranslations

[kuroopaisen]

12:54 am || kozume kenma

➵ some important introductions are finally made.

wc: 1496

warnings: gn!reader, kenma is a youtube g*mer

a/n: gracie dear, this one is for you! i remember you saying you were looking forward to it. you’re one of the loveliest people i’ve chatted to on here and you have such a kind and gentle heart. thank you for having such an accepting and calming vibe and you’re so so easy to talk to, it’s very relaxing! your blog is such a positive space you and you make me feel the big ❤️ bless your dear heart, and i hope that november is kind to you!

The sun is long gone, the sky above Tokyo draped with velvet midnight. It looks like the kind of night you’d want to go out and experience, to walk around the ever-bustling city centre, to watch the sky in the hope of seeing something that’ll make your heart stutter in your chest.

But you don’t have the energy for that this evening.

Your honours project is sucking all it can out of you. You’re not surprised, of course, but that doesn’t make the experience any less irritating. You’re at that point where you just need to push a little more and polish it off; but as always, that’s the hardest part. Trying to thread together every section into something that’s not only coherent, but also of passable quality is harder than you’d given it credit for.

It’s the time of night when your eyes feel like they’re about to dribble out of their sockets like candle wax, and you’re aware that you’re not going to get anything of substance done now. You sigh, squinting at your laptop screen.

12:54 AM.

You blink your sore eyes rapidly. Was it really that late?

You stretch your arms above your head, feeling the strain in your muscles. You want nothing more than to curl up in bed with your boyfriend, letting the stresses of the day fade away as you run your fingers through his hair. He usually lets you at this hour, melting into your touch in a way he wouldn’t usually during the day.

It’s much too late for you to get anything of worth down for this assignment.

As you stand up, you swear you can hear every bone in your body crack. You don’t just want to go to bed, you need to get some rest.

But there’s no way you’re going alone.

You totter down the hall as quietly as you can, balancing yourself on your tiptoes. Kenma’s gaming room sits at the end of the hall, chosen for its decent acoustics and spaciousness. You tease him for his set up all the time – ‘epic gamer’ is your favourite moniker, and currently crowns your LINE messages.

You and Kuroo had even made him a little sign for his birthday. It’s a plaque stuck to the door that reads, “WARNING! Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my Epic Gamer moment.”

You grin at it as the door creaks open.

Kenma’s clicking away on his computer as he sits at his desk, eyes narrowed and a little pout on his lips. You smile to yourself; he looks so cute like this, so focused and intense. He doesn’t tend to get like this about anything else, but gaming had a way of drawing the intensity out of him.

You can’t help but wonder if he was like this during his volleyball days in high school, analysing the court in the moment. You’ve never seen him play, and you doubt you ever will. He pays Hinata to do that, after all. You’re glad that such a bright boy is part of your boyfriend’s life. Between you, Kuroo, and Hinata, there’s no fear of Kenma going unloved.

You give him a small wave from the door.

Recognition flashes in his eyes as he catches sight of you, the smallest of smiles gracing his face. Someone outside of your relationship might assume that doesn’t count for much; a tiny, forgettable little gesture that isn’t worth taking note of. But you know how to read Kenma.

His gaze flicks back to his screen.

“You all want to know that bad, huh?” He teases, even though his voice is still monotone.

‘Know what?’ you mouth.

“They want to know what made me smile,” Kenma tilts his head at you, and you swear your heart is about to bloom into a kaleidoscope of light.

You nod, tottering over to him as he rolls his chair back. He’s left just enough space for you to sit. You settle yourself down on his lap like it’s second nature, and he loops his arms around your waist. Usually, that wouldn’t make you blush. But, knowing a significant portion of his viewership were watching this happen in real time brings a certain nervousness to mind.

He props his chin on your shoulder, as he always does. For once, he’s more casual than you; he’s in his element, immersed in a game and bolstered by people who adore him. It’s all you could want for him.

“Yeah, this is my partner,” he hums, small smile playing at his lips.

You see the chat rush by on the corner of his screen, but you opt not to look. Doing so would only make you more nervous.

“They want to know how long we’ve been together,” he says, conspicuously dropping the question in your lap.

You grin, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “Officially, two years,” you smile. “But basically three.”

He chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “They also want to know how we met.”

“I was Kuroo’s roommate in university,” you say, well-aware of Kuroo’s much-loved presence on Kenma’s channel. “He decided I’d be a good friend for Kenma so he wrestled me into their little duo. He likes to say that us getting together was part of his plan all along, but I have my doubts.”

In all honesty, you’re surprised by how relaxed your reveal is. You’ve been worried about it for the past year, fearing the backlash that romantic partners of youtubers – especially gaming Youtubers – tend to receive.

Kenma had told you it would be okay, that you won’t have anything to worry about.

It feels nice, just sitting in his lap, getting to be part of this little world of his.

You stay for the next fifteen minutes or so, answering a myriad of questions pinged your way; was Kenma the same as he is in his videos? Does he ever sleep? Do you game with him much? Does he go easy on you in 1-v-1’s or is he ruthless?

“Thanks everyone,” Kenma yawns, propping his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve run over time, but you guys did a great job today.”

You bite back a giggle as you listen to his ‘Youtuber Outro Voice,’ which was just a shade brighter than his normal cadence.

You sit patiently as he wraps up, mentioning something about his next upload and the charity this stream was for. You know it’s got something to do with ensuring that children with disabilities are offered opportunities to take part in sports, and to help schools accommodate for that. You’re pretty sure Kuroo’s the one who linked your boyfriend up with them; you often teased him for ‘exploiting’ kodzuken’s following for charity.

Kenma clicks off the stream, letting out a long sigh as his shoulders deflate.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, nestling his face in the crook of your neck.

You giggle, reaching a hand back to smooth his hair. The angle’s a little awkward and your fingers bump against his headset, but you don’t mind.

“Did you raise a lot of money?” You ask, shifting in his lap so you can see his face.

He nods. “Not as much as the collab with Shouyou and Kuroo, but a fair bit.”

“Good,” you smile. He looks exhausted; he often does after long charity streams. But you know he cares about them – he wouldn’t bother with them otherwise. You gently slip his headset off – you bought them for him as a one-year-anniversary present, a cute, high-tech thing with cat ears – and place it gently on his desk.

You run your fingers through his hair, gently grazing his scalp. He hums in response, letting his eyes flutter shut. It’s like all the tension is melting away under your fingers, as if you’ve brought him a moment of precious reprieve. He never complains about his work – not in any real capacity, anyway – but even he got tired of his job.

As you gaze at his face, you’re content in the knowledge that you don’t need to flit amongst the city or watch the sky to see something that’ll make your heart stutter. He’s right in front of you.

“Hey, Kenma?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

The words flutter between you, threading a proper smile across his face. He doesn’t need to say them back to know your feelings are reciprocated; Kenma isn’t a man of many words, and his affection doesn’t tend to come out in grand statements or confessions. His love is in the little gestures; in a gentle kiss to the nose, or his fingers laced through yours, or permission to be part of his little world.

His love is shy, gentle, purposeful. You know he struggles to let people in. To let himself be seen. But he opens his windows for you, lets you filter through like the sunrise.

It’s all he’s capable of giving; but he gives it all with a quiet thoughtfulness.

And that’s more than enough.

#kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x you #kozume kenma x you #haikyuu x reader #fluffvember 2020

[dancingwiththeplanets]

An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter two

Boba Fett x fem!reader

     chapter 1 / masterlist

Summary:  A few days after the incident in the throne room, Boba hovers around you like a shadow worried you’ll leave him. You try to reassure him through small, intimate moments with him that there’s no place you’d rather be.

A/N:  Really trying to expand on the idea that a gorgeous palace lays hidden underground/ behind the throne room! Also, I think we can all start calling this Boba’s Palace now, jabba is gone. Sorry for the low quality edit it’s my first one haha

Warnings: dancing!boba, protective!boba, suggestive content, plain old day at the palace, soft!boba, not a lot of content tbh but cute moments and we get to know our OC Mandos Raul and Enzo, I didn’t plan this out, im sorry

Word Count: 4.5k+

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

The ballroom, though practically useless in its existence and never actually having served its purpose, has recently become one of your favorite rooms in the palace. Initially, you didn’t know what to do with the space. It’s not like Boba seized at the idea of throwing a ball and inviting a group of strangers into the palace, providing anyone the opportunity to discover the secrets hidden behind the throne room. Let alone risk letting an adversary sneak their way in and stirring up trouble.

Nonetheless, you’ve taken it upon yourself to spruce the place up. It is, after all, one of the grander rooms in the castle, with paintings coating the ceiling and the walls bordered with columns.

It’s actually extremely beautiful, you’ve decided, wiping your forehead against your light-blue sleeve, frowning when it comes back brown from the dust that’s stuck to your face. It seemed like a sensible thing to wear this morning. A loose fitting blue blouse with flowy pants to match, secured in the middle by a slightly darker sash. Your pant legs were tucked into your boots so as not to get in the way. It was one of the more cozy and plain things you owned, though not poor in quality by any standards. The fabric was refined, flowy and soft against your skin. Quite honestly, even in your working clothes, you looked nicer than you felt you deserved to. But far be it for Boba to allow his princess to wander around in anything but the best.

The week you’d moved in was a busy one, filled with surprises and adjustments that were quite honestly overwhelming. You arrived at Boba’s palace with a literal sack over your shoulder, enough to stash your small wardrobe of two garments and a few trinkets of personal value. Tatooine was a simple place, you only owned what you absolutely needed. And you, being a young and simple waitress at the local cantina, could barely make enough to cover your cost of living. You were never awarded the luxury of having needless objects.

The first few days of your arrival, Boba had stuck to your side like glue, making sure you got around okay and had everything you needed. Initially, he’d even had a seperate room made up for you to stay in. It was absolutely beautiful, by far the lightest room in the entire palace, though lacking in a window. It was one of the biggest, not as impressive as his own chambers, but still spacious. He decorated the room with paintings and furniture and accented the space with hues of blue and gold. Unfortunately, the pretty room barely got any good use out of it.

Boba escorted you to your quarters on your first night, cradling your chin and kissing your forehead at the door, bidding you goodnight. He reminded you where you could find something to sleep in, having delighted himself in surprising you with an entirely new wardrobe.

You pulled on a satin, lavender slip, admiring the foreign material for a long while as it weighed so delicately on your form. You took your time readying yourself for bed before crawling in and feeling engulfed by pillows. Once you settled, left alone to your anxious thoughts and feelings, you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the exquisite room embracing you. A flutter of giddiness and exhilaration filled you, your mind and body enraptured by the day's events. You felt absolutely spoiled.

Feeling bold on an entirely unnatural level, you slipped away from the warm, velvety comforter and tiptoed to the door. With a rush of courage, your hand met the handle and you stepped out, bare feet cold against the tile floor. You peeked around before quickly darting down the hall, forever grateful that not a soul was around to see your practically naked form running by, before ascending the stairs that led to Boba’s door.

You lifted your hand, your knuckle knocking gently three times against the rough surface.

You heard Boba shifting on the other side of the door, tugging down on your nightgown that just barely cleared your thighs. The hinges of the door creaked as they turned, opening slowly to reveal a very smug looking Boba in just his underclothes.

He hummed, eyes tracing over your form with a shake of his head. “Wandering the halls looking like that.” He chided, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you through the door, “That’ll get you into trouble, little one.”

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

You smile as you recall the memory. Suffice to say, you didn’t end up sleeping in your own quarters that night, or any night after that, for that matter. Though Boba’s honorable gesture in providing you with your own space was not lost on you.

Continuing on with your endeavors, you move to stand from your crouch on the ground, simultaneously trying to tighten the blue sash wrapped around your middle. You gasp as you run into a hard surface, exhaling in relief as Boba braces you in front of him.

Mumbling an apology, you watch as his helmeted face looks you up and down, steady hands holding you out from him.

“What?” You ask, a smile making its way to your cheeks.

“Your outfit, it...looks like something I wore as I boy.” He says adoringly, now fondling the blue sash at your hips.

You glance down again at your form, a matching blue blouse and trousers tucked into simple black boots. “I...look like you as a young boy?” You counter, earning a deep chuckle from your lover.

“Well I looked rather plain in it,” He says, “I don’t think I looked half as radiant as you do.”

“So you do like it?” You ask.

“Of course I like it,” He grins, “I bought it.”

You shake your head as you carry on with your tasks, allowing Boba to shadow your movements for a while before leaving you again to carry on with his own agenda.

You spend the next few hours actively scrubbing away at the room, feeling especially motivated to complete it, not like all the other half-finished rooms scattered about the palace, which is partly your fault. But the ballroom felt different, once you dusted away all the grime and filth and replaced the lighting in the ceilings to give the room more life, it really started to come together. Unfortunately, your previously clean clothes and skin were paying the price for the hard work being done, you definitely looked a little worse for wear. Wisps of hair beginning to tickle your cheeks from where they’d fallen loose from your braid.

Currently, you were taking extra care to polish a beautiful mosaic decorating the inside of an archway. Thousands of small, colorful shards lined neatly together to form the image of a bold Tatooine sunset. One of the few grand beauties your home planet was known for. A surprisingly lovely work of art left behind, albeit not properly cared for, by the previous inhabitants of the palace.

You admire the artwork for a while after polishing it to near perfection, letting your bum fall to the floor and legs splay out comfortably in front of you. Your wrists support your upper body, arms holding you up as you lean back onto them, head tilting lazily to one side.

You find yourself distracted from your glossed over gaze by Boba, who seems to have wandered his way in here for the third time today. Enzo tails him a few paces behind, but stops to stand guard idly by the door. You can’t imagine he or Raul feel as though they serve any real purpose wandering these empty halls, probably much preferring when they get to patrol the throne room or secure the perimeter.  

Boba approaches you, pausing over your fatigued form and huffing out a laugh when you don’t move to stand, instead opting to gaze up at him with tired, doe eyes. He holds a hand out to you and you groan, placing your palm in his as he hoists you up.

“The room looks lovely.” He says, voice raspy through the modulator as he looks around.

The praise makes you smile. “Come see what I found,” You say, leading him by the hand. You open a large dresser to the right, stuffed full of old vinyls and a polished record player sitting proudly atop. You carefully choose a record, placing it beneath the needle and starting the track, allowing it to play soothingly in the background as you guide him around the rest of the room.

He follows you around, listening to you babble about the lovely art on the ceiling and how nice the light looks coming through the one, boxy window at the top. He watches the childlike sparkle and admiration in your eyes as you point out different things you’ve noticed, the excitement trickling out in your tone.

His mind contemplates how different this life is from the one you used to have. You went from a one room, compact home, just barely big enough for your small bed, to a palace filled with grand staircases, hallways and countless bedrooms, a blissful dream in your eyes. Nevermind the fact that you were still stuck on Tatooine. In fact, you seemed happy to stay, oddly attached to the sandy planet, something Boba found amusing.

A couple trips around the room later, and a few songs having gone by, the two of you now stand in the center of the empty room. Him, groaning in protest, and you, placing his hand on your waist yet again. You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to teach him a basic waltz, something your father had taught you when you were little. A rare memory you shared with him before he...well-  

“Boba,” You scold with a giggle, “Try again.” Your request earns you another frustrated grumble from your partner. At some point you were able to coerce him into dancing with you, having pleaded desperately when your favorite classic came on. “C’mon, you nearly had it that time!”

He sighs loudly, tilting his helmet in an exasperated fashion. “Last time,” He says with finality, his finger raised in your direction.

You nod your head, an amused grin spread wide on your face.

He holds tight to your waist and reaches for your other hand, a final effort to humor you.

“And...1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3..” You begin moving again to the music, trying to swallow the snicker working its way up at the image of your armored partner staring at your feet for guidance. Visor following your every move, looking unsure and sloppy and quite honestly graceless.

You jump at the voice of a forgotten presence in the room.

“No! No, no, no, boss.” Enzo finally pipes up, his silent and judgemental self unable to be contained any longer. He moves forward with a swagger in his step as he struts towards you from his previous position against the wall, “You’ve gotta lead her by the waist,” He says pointedly, reaching for you “Observe-”

Boba’s arm shoots out, blocking Enzo by the pauldron, “You touch her, you're a dead man.” He growls, deflecting his attempt to take you by the waist.

You jerk slightly at the interaction, rolling your eyes and waiting for the show of dominance to subside.

Enzo’s hands raise in surrender, bowing away respectfully before returning to his earlier stance, no doubt a grin slapped on beneath his visor.

Boba’s hand returns to your waist with a shake of his head, noting your half-suppressed chuckle, evidently amused by the encounter.  

“Alright,” He grunts, “once more.”

You start counting aloud, moving at a pace Boba can keep up with. You step out on the final eight count and slowly twirl back into his arms, your back now braced against his front. He tugs at your hips, holding you closer, “Mm,” He hums in your ear as you sway in your position, “Well I do like this.”

The sound of his accented voice filtering through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and you breathe out a light exhale as he releases you a moment later, turning you to face him.

“See,” You sigh, “You can dance.”

He hums in response, turning around to retrieve his weapon.

You move to face your hired gun, again leaning casually against the entryway.

“Do you actually know how to dance, Enzo?” You ask, reflecting on his earlier attempt at an intervention.

“-Wouldn’t matter if he did.” Boba interjects loudly over his shoulder, dismissing any ideas before they transpired.

You hear a light chuckle emitting through Enzo’s modulator, turning back to see his stance remaining motionless aside from the slight jerk in his shoulders.

Boba returns to your side, tapping his forehead against yours in an obvious farewell.

Your head falls heavily to one side as you tenderly hold one of his gloved hands, fingers tracing the rough fabric of his own. “Is that all the time you’ve allotted for me today, my king?” You say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” He replies, “But perhaps I’ll come find you in a bit, see what further progress you’ve made.”

You nod, a slight frown tugging on your lips. You hesitate raising the concern suddenly weighing in your mind.

Ever since the incident with Crane occurred, Boba’s been...watchful. It’s not that he wasn’t protective of you before, it’s just that in the past few days he’s been protective of you in an entirely different way. He’s been hovering and checking in on you almost compulsively. Whereas before he seemed to want to keep you away during the busy hours of his day, now he seemed to want you near enough to reach in a moment's notice. Almost as if he’s worried you’ll abandon him when he’s not looking.

You wonder how he can still feel so worried after sharing such a fun and intimate moment with you.

So, you’ve given him some extra leeway, allowing him to hover to his heart's content until he seems secure in knowing that you’re not going anywhere.

That being said, you really didn’t mind Boba’s loitering close by to wherever you happened to be, you only wish you knew he wasn’t doing it because of the events that conspired earlier in the week.

“Boba,” You say lightly, catching his arm as he turns. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me, I’m not...you know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

He pauses at your words, hands stilling in their endeavor to tighten up loosened pieces of clothing and armor. You hope you haven't upset him in calling out his unusual conduct.

He averts his gaze to the side, pausing a moment before turning back to you. “I know.” He says nodding, a slight hint of defeat in his tone.

You hope perhaps some flattery will comfort him, stepping closer and lifting your gaze to meet his own. “My king,” you say in admiration, “You are a very busy man. You have a planet to rule. And an underworld to dominate. There are many things that I know put strain and worry in your mind, but whether or not your partner will still be here when you go looking for her should not be one of them.”

He doesn’t make any movements, and the face of his visor does little to allow you access to his thoughts.

“What I mean to say is,” You continue, “Go rule your empire. Your princess is safely stashed away in the palace you’ve encompassed her in.”

He breathes out a chuckle, and you smile, “I am happier here with you than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t want to be anywhere you won't be too, Boba Fett.” You reiterate your words from your conversation a few days ago. One that both started and ended with the two of you in tears. A rare moment between the two of you indeed. An exceedingly painful incident for him, having showcased the true depth of his love for you in such an unexpected and vulnerable way. And for you, to have seen the strongest and most fearless man you have ever known brought down to his knees, in tears, was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially in knowing that his own insecurities about your love had driven him to feel such fear.

You squeeze his arm and kiss the cheek of his helmet in valediction. His unmoving visor lingering on your face for an extended moment.  

Boba’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you forward slightly before gently meeting you in the middle with his own helmet. Your foreheads pressed together in an intimate and tender kiss.

He pulls away silently, giving you a nod, a gesture you return with a small smile before watching him exit the room, Enzo in tow.

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

You make your way to the kitchens, stomach growling unhappily at having been neglected all afternoon. 

You pause under the doorway.

“I’ve seen you far too much today,” You sigh, feigning exasperation at the sight of Enzo shifting through the pantry for a meal to take to his room.

He stops his digging, turning to face you standing under the doorway before spinning back around.

“Vod’ika,” He greets, “Soup?” He holds a can up over his shoulder while reaching for a pot below the stove.

“No, thanks.” You say, approaching his station.

You pick up the canister of tomato soup, looking it over. “I doubt this tiny thing is even enough for just you.”

He glances down at the can in your hand. “I’ll do two then.”

You roll your eyes, what is it with these massive Mandalorians and not understanding proper nourishment?

“No, no.” You chide, “At least attempt to incorporate a healthy balance into your diet. Something with protein, maybe? Make a grilled porg-and-cheese melt to go with the soup. You can dip it in the broth, it’s delicious.”

His teal visor meets your face, shifting in uncertainty. “Can you do it?”

You sigh, “Fine.”

You get out the sandwich makings, opting to make one for yourself as well. You smear the bantha butter along four pieces of bread and grill them on a pan, layering sliced porg and cheese slices afterward.

You hear footsteps approaching the kitchen just as you’re pulling the finished sandwiches off the stove.

“Raul!” You greet with a smile, Enzo’s head whips in your direction. “We’re making sandwiches, want one?”

“You never sound that excited to see me.” Enzo declares.

You giggle at the accusation, sliding his sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Can I make you one, Raul?” You repeat.

He sighs, “No kid, thank you.” He steps forward and pulls Enzo’s plate from his hands, placing it away from him on the counter.

“Aye!” Enzo protests, wanting to transport his hot meal to his room so he could eat.

“We work for her,” Raul says, articulating the ‘we’ with an exaggerated hand gesture between the two of them. “You should be making her sandwich, not the other way around.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You groan, looking between the pair of Mandalorians.

“Yeah, Raul,” Enzo mocks, a slightly more threatening air to his tone. He retrieves the stolen soup and sandwich, “Don’t be a di’kut.”

Raul’s helmet tilts slightly at Enzo’s words. Not knowing exactly what the word means, but starting to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach, you attempt to intervene, “Guys-”

Just a moment too late.

Raul clamps a hand on Enzo’s arm, jolting him back from trying to pass him. His hand smacks the plate out of Enzo’s hand, the glass shattering before it even reaches the floor, and the soup and sandwich splattering everywhere.

“I made that-” You frown.

Now with two free hands, Enzo grips Raul’s shoulders and shoves him back against the brick ovens, a rough grunt escaping Raul when his helmet meets the open face of a hanging pan.

“Please stop-” You yelp, wincing as Enzo’s fist uppercuts into the weak spot under Raul’s helmet.

For being half a head shorter and not as obviously built as his opponent, the Mandalorian in black and teal armor could sure hold his own.

Raul spits something out in mando’a, his words seething as he grabs onto the cuff of the smaller Mandalorians neck covering and throws him with little exertion to the floor. You hear the crunching of glass beneath Raul’s boots as he growls with a foot on pressing to Enzo’s chest in an effort to force him into submission.

“-I wish you guys wouldn’t always do this.” You sigh, not bothering to shout anymore over the sound of beskar scraping against beskar.

You slide from your seat, taking your sandwich with you as you circle around the room to avoid becoming collateral damage in the red Mandalorian’s show of dominance.

“I have never witnessed two people fight over something so stupid in my life!” You call out behind you, tearing a piece of your sandwich off and popping it into your mouth. Leaving the sound of metal crashing against stone behind you.

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

You sigh when you finally reach your room, ascending the steps inside your chambers to reach the bedroom. You’re about to sit down on the bed when you catch sight of your reflection, covered in dust patches and knee stains from when you scrubbed against the floor.  You opt to take a quick shower instead, washing out all the grime gathered in your hair and skin.

It takes a couple minutes of harsh scrubbing for the water to stop running off your body brown. You take extra care to wash behind your ears and around your hairline, where dirt likes to plant itself firmly.

You turn the water off when the last few soap suds slide off your hair, wrapping yourself in a warm towel.

Taking a glance out the window, you note that the suns are already setting low on the horizon, and resign yourself to just staying in for the rest of the night.

You pull on a slip dress and wrap yourself in Boba’s robe, inhaling his comforting, musky scent. You reach for your book on the nightstand before lighting a couple of candles around the space, creating a warm and cozy environment.  

Satisfied with the aesthetic you set around you, you plop down on your bed and hope to get a few chapters into your novel before Boba gets home. Admittedly getting distracted a couple times by the stunning, shaded view out your window, exposing you to the last few moments of the captivating sunset.  

Boba comes home a little over an hour later, the glow in your chambers now reduced to only a few lamps and the candlelight spread about your room, but enough to alert Boba of your presence.

You hear his heavy armored footsteps trudging up towards the bedroom. You turn your head expectantly when he reaches the top. Helmet in hand, he pauses for a moment upon seeing you, admiring the image of your figure wrapped up in his robe and curled up with a book, before stepping forward and greeting you with a kiss.

He pulls back, gaze immediately flickering to the window, probably having noticed it immediately upon entering the room but choosing to greet you before acknowledging it.

You groan internally, knowing what's coming.

“Mesh’la,” He hums, frowning at the open curtains exposing you to the darkness of the Tatooine night. A few dim lights from Mos Eisley shining in the distance. He steps forward to slide the curtains closed, you don’t complain, only having wanted them open for sunset. “What have I told you, little one? It's not safe to have these open.”

“I only just opened them, Boba.” You fib a little, hoping to reassure him.

He nods, unconvinced, before beginning to strip himself of his armor. You observe him unlatch the beskar piece-by-piece, placing the armor neatly in its designated chest.

He groans loudly when he sinks down beside you, arms raising behind his head.

You giggle at his tired show of soreness, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. “Old man,” You mutter.

“Watch it.” He growls lowly. You glance a peek at him, eyes closed heavily against his cheeks.

You ponder your bravery for a moment, sticking your nose back in your book before impulsively whispering, “Relic.” You shriek, bursting into a fit of laughter as he suddenly reaches over and wrestles the book out of your hands, using it to plant a harsh smack on your behind.

“Boba Fett!” You squeal, hands moving to shield your bum as the vibrations from his deep laugh shake the bed.

Still holding the book up in a threatening manner, a childlike gleam in his eyes, he challenges you, “Apologize.”

You consider tossing another remark out, eyes darting to the book in his hand, before deciding against it tonight.

Instead, you hoist yourself up onto your knees, allowing his robe to slowly slide down your form and meet the duvet, revealing the thin slip below. His closed-lip smile increases a little, eyes tracing down your form, book lowering slightly in the space above where he lay.

You crawl forward until your chest hovers above him, noses nearly touching, “My apologies, my king.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He deepens the kiss with a groan, your hand reaching back to grip your novel, which he allows you to slip from his fingers.

You let him attack you lips for another moment before you pull away. Having gotten what you wanted, you shift back to your side of the bed, turning to the page you left off at.

A deep chuckle rumbles out from Boba’s chest. “Alright, little one.” He says, “I'll let you play your game.”

He turns the light out on his side of the bed, pulling the blankets out and over the two of you before moving to embrace your form, leaning close to whisper in your ear, “-this time.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you try to resist the smile tugging at your lips, though you feel his own brushing against your ear in satisfaction.

“Tomorrow,” He says, shifting a little above you, “I’m heading into Mos Eisley with Fennec.

“What for?” You ask, finally marking your page and setting it aside.

“Nothing,” He grumbles, “I need to put on a little show of...authority, for a few people.”

You hum, “No big deal?” You question.

“Just a local inconvenience.” He gripes.

You nod slightly, not requiring any elaboration. You suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself tomorrow. “Well then, maybe I’ll have Raul teach me how to wield a dagger,” You quip, a grin back on your face.

Boba huffs out an amused puff of air, “I’d much prefer you with a blaster.” He says, apparently taking the idea seriously, “You don’t need to be up close to use it.”

“We’ll see then,” You say, standing to turn out the rest of the lights.

A single lit candle from your bedside table casts a warm glow over Boba’s face, eyes closed and head still leaning back against your bed-frame pillow.

“Get back on your side,” You chuckle, nudging him as you crawl back into your space.

“M’fine here.” He mumbles, leaning further over onto your pillow.

You smile, his body encasing yours and his nose presses into your neck.

“I’ll be fine here too you know.” You mutter, referencing the day you’ll be spending without his guard. 

“You finally gonna stop worrying about me?” You tease, having received no response.

He shakes his head, snuggling deeper into your neck, “Never.”

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

A/N pt.2:  So I wrote this and I thought it was great then I read it back a few times and realized literally nothing happened haha im so sorry 😅😅😅

Literally spent too many hours on this not to upload though so I suppose here’s a filler chapter my bad lots of love 🥰

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #boba!palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader #boba's palace

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Put On Your Raincoats #21 | Double Chinn Double (Double) Feature (with Hyapatia Lee)

By the time the '80s rolled around, Bob Chinn, best known for his collaborations with John Holmes (the inspiration for Boogie Nights), had been directing movies for over a decade. For much of that time, he'd been making them for peanuts (in an interview with the Rialto Report, he recounts being once asked to make a movie for five thousand dollars, which was handed to him in fifties on the spot), but in the early '80s, he was directing for Harry Mohney's Caribbean Films, working with respectable budgets (by porn standards). Some of these films starred Hyapatia Lee, one of the most popular porn stars of the era and one of the first contract girls. Now, I suspect these aren't necessarily the defining works of Chinn's career, and I do intend to get to some of his movies with Holmes. But Vinegar Syndrome had a sale and there were two double features of their collaborations going for dirt cheap, and because I am weak and foolish with money, they ended up in my cart and a few weeks later in my grubby little paws. How did this happen? Through the magic of Canada Post, of course! Anyway, what I found was that these didn't represents any extremes of artistic ambition. They were neither seeking to elevate the genre, nor were they hackwork. Rather, they represent a happy medium, movies that seek to deliver the genre's goods in a polished, diverting package. Slick cinematography, courtesy of Jack Remy. Catchy theme songs that wouldn't sound out of place if you caught them on the radio. Flashy titles. Lee recounted the atmosphere on set as one of professionalism and engagement, where everyone present wanted to do as good a job as possible. Chinn claims to have been losing interest in his work at this point, but the results onscreen are the result of confident execution by somebody who had been doing this kind of thing for years and knew how to put the production's resources to good use.

The first one I watched was The Young Like it Hot, where the operators at a phone company worry about being replaced by computers. To keep their jobs, they scheme to go the extra mile in helping their callers. As this is a porno, most of this help is sexual in nature, as when Rosa Lee Kimball stays on the line while an obscene phone caller played by Bill Margold finishes. (In an interview on the DVD, Margold says after shooting his scene, he was invited to record additional dialogue. Being the method actor that he was, he insisted on whipping it out during the recording session despite the lack of cameras.) Sometimes they are informative, as when Bud Lee (real life husband of Hyapatia at the time) explains why the perineum is referred to as taint ("cuz it taint cunt and it taint ass"). But the highlight of their efforts are Shauna Grant's increasingly life threatening home improvement advice to one poor sap played by Joey Silvera. Hyapatia Lee is ostensibly the star, and has a certain charisma, playing the supervisor, but this is really an ensemble piece, and she's joined by more experienced actors like Kay Parker and Eric Edwards. The latter I've occasionally found bland elsewhere, but he has a nice obnoxious quality that serves him well as the villainous manager whose idea it is the automate the operators' jobs. The movie reflects a very real concern (that's very much still an issue in the modern workplace), but overall this is a breezy, affable comedy.

A bit more serious in tone is Sweet Young Foxes, a coming of age story whose dramatic parts are more sensitively realized than I expected. The screenplay was written by Deborah Sullivan, Bob Chinn's wife at the time, and this is a case where a movie definitely benefited from having been written by a woman, and it seems like an earnest effort to capture the anxieties and yearnings of its young women protagonists. Lee moves closer to a real starring role, and is joined by Cara Lott and Cindy Carver as her friends, who aren't quite as strong actors as her but do have decent chemistry. I can believe they're friends even if their line delivery can be stilted. (That the movie has a good ear for genuine sounding dialogue also helps.) Kay Parker is especially good as Lee's mother, hitting some of the same notes as Taboo, and has a credibly emotional masturbation scene in front of a mirror that did not leave me unmoved. (In what way? That's none of your damn business.) This was shot by Jack Remy, the same cinematographer who worked on The Young Like it Hot. That movie looked nice and slick, but this one is a little more stylish, with the solo sex scenes in particular resembling magazine centerfolds. There's also some nice new-wave-ish music that shows up on the soundtrack, which I certainly didn't mind. I do wish some of the sex scenes didn't run quite as long (the previous movie kept them refreshingly concise) as I'd prefer more of the runtime was dedicated to the dramatic elements, but what's there is still good.

Body Girls goes back firmly to comedy territory, where Hyapatia Lee and the members of her gym are trying to win a bodybuilding contest despite a rival gym's attempts to undermine them. This comes in the form of a pair of schlubs in yellow tank tops who break into the gym after hours to sabotage their equipment, only to be foiled by Hyapatia and her girls who just happened to be having sex in the locker room as people do. Of course, despite Lee's attempts to teach them a lesson (which depending on your proclivities, may have the opposite effect), they don't give up, and during the contest threaten the judge at gunpoint. Not one to take things lying down (okay, poor choice of words here), Lee finds a way to influence the judge back in her favour. (The judge is played by Francois Papillon, bringing a dopey charm to the character as he fumbles through his lines in his French accent.) Her method is pretty ridiculous and certainly in service of genre requirements, but I did laugh.

Now, there's probably a dilemma in audience sympathy here as both Lee and her rivals are cheating, but Lee's methods are more agreeable and directed at the judge instead of her rivals so I guess we ought to root for her. She's also buoyant, charismatic and has a real star quality, and is joined by such fan favourites as Shanna McCullough and Erica Boyer, all of whom sport wildly different hairstyles. As can be expected given the exercise theme, most of the ladies have toned, athletic bodies (and given the decade, voluminous coiffures), with the exception of Tigr, who brings a wiry punkish energy that stood out to me despite her limited screentime, and she also performs the miraculous feat of making a mullet look cute. (I'd previously been moved by her work in Kamikaze Hearts, the great mockumentary about a porn production and her relationship with Sharon Mitchell. She didn't stay in the industry for too long, but I'd be interested in seeing more of her work.) The screenplay was written by Lee with her husband Bud (who plays the judge's assistant with an agreeable presence that's neither too alpha nor too schlubby) and is full of exercise-related dialogue. Most of this is pretty clunky and calling it wordplay might be a bit generous ("sexercise" features at one point), but I did appreciate the effort. Also as is requisite for the premise, the longest set piece in the movie is an orgy in Lee's gym with the various participants snaked around different pieces of equipment. I must note that one of the male actors resembles Barry Gibb and that Francois Papillon is shown to wear a tiger-striped speedo. Did I enjoy the movie? Yes, but not for reasons cited in that sentence.

At the end of Body Girls, Bud Lee suggests to Hyapatia, "Let's get physical", which is the title of the next movie. (Body Girls also features a character looking at dirty magazine with stills from Sweet Young Foxes and ends with a plug for some of these other movies, anticipating the MCU's narrative and marketing strategies by a few decades.) Now, all of these movies have had decent theme songs, but the one in Let's Get Physical has lyrics that are plagiaristically close to those of Olivia Newton-John's 1983 hit. (The delivery however is more shrill but not unpleasing.) This movie is a drama where Lee plays a dance instructor trying to put together a ballet performance despite her strained relationship with her impotent husband played by Paul Thomas. (In the interview I listened to, Lee speaks well of almost everyone she worked with on these films, with the pointed exception of Paul Thomas. If there was bitterness behind the scenes, it arguably helps their performances.)

Lee wrote the screenplay for this one, and unlike Body Girls with its surface level references to bodybuilding and exercise, the dialogue here feels packed with knowledge of the real thing, which is understandable given Lee's real life interest in dance going back to her childhood. (I looked up "Luigi jazz dancing" after finishing the movie and was pleasantly surprised to learn it was a real thing.) This movie goes all in on her star power, and features a number of dance numbers that seem genuinely interested in the form rather than just leering at the performers. (There is one scene where the song Lee dances to sounds suspiciously like "Beat It".) I did appreciate that the sex scenes were kept relatively concise and tied into the dramatic aspects, although in some cases, the choices made could be goofy, like the scene where Lee makes love to her student Shanna McCullough while Thomas, in a dramatically justified but still awkward gesture, watches from another room and jacks off. (I assume he's playing the audience in this scene. Also, McCullough's character remarks "I've never done this before" when going down on Lee, and yeah, okay Shanna.) Other highlights include a car stunt that may or may not have been lifted from elsewhere but still looks decently executed, as well as a dream sequence where Thomas (or his character at least) plays the piano and sings a song. This is held back a bit by the genre's demands, like when it places a completely superfluous sex scene at the end after Lee's reconciliation with Thomas, but on the whole this is probably the best one of the lot.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #the young like it hot #sweet young foxes #body girls #let's get physical #bob chinn #hyapatia lee

[whumping-every-day]

(Insert arrow here) for Callum Ask Ash if he wants a hug/headpat/physical affection of any kind, if he says yes then give him affection. Vamp bapy has been through enough and I want him and Callum happy even if Callum is awkward about it.

Thank you, Anon! I sat down with this intending to write some fluff, and... well. I don’t know what i fucking expected. xD Please enjoy, Nonnie! 

CW’s: Aftermath of torture and references to said torture, some dehumanization, reluctant/clinical/sorta creepy caretaker, comfort, alternating POV, food mention, blanket warning for Ash’s fucky headspace. 

-

Callum squints at the order. He doesn’t mind offering the vampire an affectionate touch here and there, of course; but the undeniable power dynamic has always made him hesitate. It’s the way Ash watches him; he’s always a silent shadow at Callum’s side, always so eager to obey him. (Too eager).

It’s the kind of eager that has fear behind it. Eager to please, so Callum won’t starve him; quick to obey, so Callum won’t beat him. Every action is driven by the belief that if he can’t keep Callum happy, Callum will do something horrendous to him. 

He looks at the hunter, sometimes, and Callum almost thinks that he wants to be touched. But then the hunter will clear his throat, or uncross his legs, or move, and the vampire will flinch like he’s been electrocuted, and Callum knows better. 

There’s so much about the time that Ash spent with his captors that Callum doesn’t know. But there’s a lot he can tell from what he’s seen; and the vampire is always so grateful for such small mercies. 

Even the briefest kindness still gives Ash that dazzled, awed look, and every time a little bit more of the dazed, worshipful quality stays. He could ask anything of Ash, anything at all, and the vampire would give it. 

“Hey, kid?” Callum keeps his voice soft, tries with all his might to ease what he knows is an impressive resting glare. Something still clangs in surprise in the other room, and there’s a hurriedly stifled gasp. 

There’s silence, and then the quick pattering of bare feet. Ash appears in the door frame like a phantom; his dark eyes glitter, wary compliance layered over alarm at being summoned. 

“Y-yes, Sir?” It’s soft, and Ash shifts uneasily on the balls of his feet, gaze darting from the floor to Callum’s feet and then back. 

The vampire is always so good; waiting to be fed, waiting for permission to leave his cell, waiting to be told what to do and where to go. Callum still wishes Ash wouldn’t call him Sir. But it seems to bring the vampire some comfort... and it’s better than the first thing Ash had called him. 

“I just wanted to ask you something,” the hunter says carefully, and Ash’s shoulders immediately go tense, distrust plastered all over his face. Shit. “You can say no,” Callum promises; the whites of Ash’s eyes show, like a skittish horse. 

From the vampire’s perspective, the space between it and its master is both too little and too much. The hunter moves with an unassuming grace; it’s easy to forget just how big he is, until he walks through a doorway and nearly grazes the ceiling. He’s seated, at the moment, loose and nonthreatening, and his bulk trapped safely (hah) on the other side of the work bench. 

The vampire’s instincts are still blaring a red alert. 

“Would you like a hug?” The creature startles, refocuses on Callum’s face with bewilderment. Its gaze drops then, to the hunter’s work-worn hands, his scarred forearms, the size of his biceps. The terror in its eyes has him offering again; “or I could pet your hair. Shh, shh, hey,” he murmurs. “You’re alright, bud. There’s no test here.” It’s in that same patient, soothing tone, so unusual coming out of Callum’s mouth. 

Ash’s heart hardly beats anymore, but even sluggish and undead the creature’s pulse tries to thrum. The question is a trap - there is always a trap. It hasn’t figured out where the pitfalls are, yet. And every hunter has traps to be tripped, it’s only a matter of stumbling onto them. 

“I’ll tell you what.” Callum speaks to break up the spiral he can see unfolding behind Ash’s eyes. The vampire’s gaze snaps to him, and Callum gives it a light smile and wiggles his fingers. “I’m halfway through this project. Just oiling Hugo’s gears, here.” 

The vampire’s gaze slips to the workbench, where the mechanical crow is perched. One of its wings has been removed, and Ash can see the moving gears beneath, like muscle and nerves. Hugo turns his head to the side and eyes the vampire with one beedy black eye. 

“It won’t even be another ten minutes.” The hunter speaks casually, but the vampire still shrinks under his attention. “You’ve been working hard. I’m very pleased,” he adds. “So if you’d like, you can come sit with me while I finish this. Okay? And if that means some head pats, well, that’s up to you.”  

Up to you. 

The vampire isn’t used to being a you, yet. It doesn’t know what to do with this lack of boundaries, and every step it takes feels like navigating a rigged obstacle course while blindfolded... but it knows from experience that when Callum tells it to choose something, it will have to choose. 

The vampire briefly debates the merits of fleeing back into the other room. Callum might let it go, it thinks... the hunter’s punishments have been unbelievably lax so far. He lets it sleep, lets it cower away when it’s frightened, doesn’t punish it for flinching or crying. 

It doesn’t run. 

The hunter waits patiently while the vampire stands there chewing on its bottom lip, caught between indecision and fear. If it goes closer, the hunter can grab it, hurt it...

...

But also, if it goes closer, the man can pet it. The thought crosses its mind, unbidden, that those hands are big but they’d also be warm.

There’s suspicion and something else warring behind Ash’s eyes as the vampire takes a halting step forward. It waits for a split second, for the other shoe to drop, for the hunter to spring up out of his seat and shout gotcha. 

It doesn’t happen. 

Ash - and that is something else the vampire has to be grateful for, its name. Ash inches into the hunter’s space, and it doesn’t dare take too long, lest the man lose his patience. It’s not like this is the first time it’s been close to the man - the hunter had carried it in the beginning, every day, from its cell to the lab, and then back. But this is the first time the hunter has summoned it like this, no tests to perform, no wounds to tend. 

When it stops, shoulders hunched in Callum’s shadow, there is no retribution, and no sudden, violent outburst. The hunter just nods, and he puts one of those massive hands in his lap casually, picks up the oil-stained rag with the other. 

“This won’t take long,” he says again, still soft, still careful. The vampire watches him for a moment, and Callum can feel him assessing the situation, trying to figure out how it might end. “I’d say you’ve earned a break, little one,” he murmurs, and each word is laid with intent. 

He’s pieced together by now that Ash was made to earn a lot of things, before. Blood, shelter, mercy, a slightly less heinous method of torture. The language of rewards and punishments isn’t something Callum likes to employ... but from the corner of his eye, he sees the vampire hesitate, and then loosen, like magic. 

Ash doesn’t speak again, but some of the tension has eased. Framing this as a reward had worked, which... Huh. Callum turns that over in his head for a moment. He also knows that the peace is fragile; he can’t pay the vampire any undue attention, or he’ll spook it. 

To all outward appearances, Callum is exceedingly casual, and entirely relaxed. He’s careful as he goes back to work one-handed, and he leaves the other hand in his lap, open, fingers loose. There’s a second stool beside his; Callum knows better by now than to try and force the vampire into it. 

Instead he feels the air shift as Ash sinks slowly to his knees, folding his hands in his lap. It puts the vampire at just lap height, and Callum carefully doesn’t look down as he goes back to removing, cleaning and then reinstalling Hugo’s gears. 

From where the vampire is kneeling, its palms prick with sweat. It has been summoned here and told to take a break - so of course its heart is in its throat waiting. But when it risks the tiniest glance upward, minutes after kneeling, the hunter seems to be genuinely invested in his work. 

This hunter is so smart, the creature thinks. He’s always working on something; diagrams or strange substances and powders, things that click and spark and grind. Callum calls them machines, says that they are new. But to the creature’s eyes, much of it seems like magic. 

It is glad to be allowed to sit there; Callum has been generous to give it tasks. It can be useful this way, counting arrowheads or polishing leather, or scrubbing the pots clean. It is a far kinder use than the others had for it. 

Instinct tells the creature that it’s in danger; but it squeezes its eyes shut and breathes, dredges up the hunter’s words from memory. You’ve been working hard, and I’m very pleased. 

Pleased. With it. Assuming that the human does not jest, Ash can only marvel. 

But then, the vampire reasons, if the man was displeased, surely he would have made it known by now. Surely he would correct its behavior, and not simply allow it to continue in its filthy, rotten ways. 

Something moves in the corner of its vision, and the vampire tenses - but it’s only the hunter’s hand, draped loosely again his thigh so his fingers hang free. 

Headpats are up to you, he’d said. 

His hand is close, but it’s not reaching, not tugging or yanking or grabbing. Ash casts another glance upwards, and Callum is busy, not paying any attention. Even just the simple act of being ignored is comforting - the hunter can’t be angry with it if he’s not thinking about it. 

It takes some time, but the vampire slowly, slowly starts to lean. It’s stupid, and its heart is in its throat - this is a test and it is failing, it’s failing terribly. But somehow, irrationally (desperately) the creature wants what has been offered. 

This is what the man wants. The vampire tells itself that, over and over again, to stifle its own hesitation. If it does this, it’ll be good. If it does this, it will stave off the hunter’s wrath for just a little longer. 

Callum’s leg is thick and warm when Ash finally leans into it. The creature is shivering, left-over vestiges of adrenaline rattling through its system at the touch. It holds its breath as it settles; it’s barely there, resting a fraction of its weight as it braces for the anger and yelling. 

Instead, there’s nothing. Ash’s fingernails dig furrows into his palms with how tightly he clenches them, but it’s like the hunter doesn’t even feel him. 

The ground is cold, but the hunter is warm, and it seeps through the fabric of Ash’s shirt and sinks into his side. The heat is soothing, and the vampire bites down a soft, high sound as it slumps a little further. It waits, at each stage, for the human’s reaction, and each time there isn’t one. 

Ten minutes later, Ash is curled up at Callum’s feet, resting his temple against the of the hunter’s knee. Its head is almost in his lap, and this time it barely flinches when something settles on its hair. 

The vampire peels its eyes open, and the hunter has a hand on top of its head. Ash checks again, and Callum is still occupied with his task, like the creature sitting at his feet isn’t a dangerous, blood-sucking leech. 

Then that hand moves, slow and careful; the first proper stroke makes goosebumps break out all along Ash’s arms and shoulders. He whines softly, but he quickly swallows it down; Callum’s hand pauses, and Ash’s lungs don’t work until it starts to move again. 

There has always been something to be longed for in the grace of human warmth. Eventually, the vampire even dares to nuzzle against Callum’s knee, timid and soft. The hunter huffs quietly, and his touch drifts to the back of the creature’s neck, scritching gently at its nape. 

This is the reward, the vampire thinks - or hopes. Not a break from its tasks, it’s been given a multitude of those already, far in excess. No, the reward is the touch, a mercy given without being earned or bled for. 

Its hair is still a mess, frazzled and wild - and longer, now, than it had been before. Calloused fingers pet over the brown curls, then dig deeper, nails scraping ever so lightly against its scalp. The vampire shudders in pleasure at that, and its eyes flutter halfway, murring needy in the back of its throat. 

Callum drags out the simple task of cleaning Hugo’s gears for another thirty minutes. By the time he’s finished, the crow’s gears shine like new, and Ash is purring, slumped bodily against Callum’s legs and head fully in the hunter’s lap. Callum watches him for a moment, dark lashes against soft cheeks, and feels something fierce and protective stir in his chest. 

For Ash, time has started to blur again. The creature knows what it feels like to have the passage of day and night lose their meaning, but this is different. This is pure bliss, a thrill that starts at the back of its spine and trickles in shivers down its back. 

It doesn’t know what it did to be worthy of such a kindness. (something, it must have done something.) But it hopes, this time, that if it keeps trying to be good, if it’s small and silent and sweet enough... maybe it can earn this sort of reward again. 

[END]

Tagging the vampire gang this time :3    @wildfaewhump @pepperonyscience @robinsdoghouseofwhump @angelsuperwholock @pennsss @silver-sparrow-462 @silverinkgoldenquill @kestrelspaverius @learningtowhump @shameless-whumper @latenightcupsofcoffee @thebluejayswhump  @what-huh-imconfused @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic  @pink-and-purple-flowers @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whump-em  @umniyah-s  @adventuresofacreesty @scarheart  @kyra-plays @lionhxartxd-blog @blue-flare10 @whumpywhumper @doityourselfbombs  @pastry-case @maybeawhumpblog @httyd-chocolate  @maqcyloup @yyyee-haw @to-hurt-and-comfort @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @manip-loki @dungeons-and-dragons-and-whump @ariirenn @poetofswords86 @whumpity--whump--whump @swagjudgehandsdragon @machimaquiaveli @theladyoffangorn @oracle-of-maybe @cuddlycryptid @the-potato-beeper @insanitycheshire @slam-whump @sweeterthanadonut @ffaerie-dustt @whump-in-the-night @elfo8792 @kinda-bad-poet @crackedskel @deluxewhump @this-zombie-will-eat-you @a-moment-to-write @stoic-whumpee @paradigmparadoxical @burtlederp @whump-with-wren @whimperwoods @winged-ace-whump @whump-only @sola-whumping @theoretical-toes @servenas-inner-fangirl  @hurtmebeautifully @shaegal @crystalrainwing

#whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #creature whump #comfort #reluctant caretaker #aftermath of torture #fear #past torture #conditioned whumpee #original content #mine

[transfenris-truther]

For the WIP asks, No One Will Get Away With Anything and The One Where Hadriana Doesn't Die (because I hate myself I guess)

Oh boy the sad ones!

Okay, so the One Where Hadrianna Doesn't Die is essentially a total re-write of all of Fenris' quests after he confronts Hadrianna in the holding caves. In this version, Hadrianna negotiates for her life way better, and Fenris and Hawke end up taking her to the Tevinter border as a prisoner. They intend to double cross her once she gives up the information about Fenris' past. Essentially, it's an angst fic, where lots of people who probably shouldn't be around each other go on a zero-privacy road trip, ending in Act 2 Hawke and Fenris being unleashed upon the Tevinter Imperium.

"You could be a powerful mage, if you learned to use your power. An ocean of magic at your fingertips, and you won't even wet your feet," Hadrianna spat. 

Hawke stared out into the darkness, "Be glad I'm the one on watch. Fenris hears you speaking like that and you won't speak again."

He could see very little of her in the darkness, she was still bound and still very much unregal. In contrast to the way she had been when he had first met her, now she was disheveled, rough, blood on her chin from where Fenris had struck her, hair messed, arms tied tight behind her back. 

Her voice dripped with disdain, "He's nothing. I know him, he'll hit and whine and make demands while he can, but the moment one of his betters-" 

"Don't talk about him," Hawke ordered, "He's the one invested in keeping you alive until we reach the border. I have no such inclinations." 

"I could make you powerful, influential. In Tevinter, you could have everything you'd ever dreamed of. If you're so attached, you could even keep the slave. Danarius is getting old. I could find new allegiances, if I had to."

Hawke cast the spell that silenced her, listening now only to the crackling of the fire, and the peeping of toads in the night "He's not a slave."

Only a dozen feet away, Fenris lay flat on his back in his bedroll, body tense, eyes fixed open, listening intently.

And you're familiar with No One Will Get Away With Anything, lol. Here's a bit from the next chapter in which Danarius adds gift-giving to his creep repertoire:

Leto's hands weren't quite steady. Danarius assumed the boy must know what the cloth concealed. He smiled. Leto's hand brushed the leather of the sheath, letting the cloth fall away to reveal the sword. Within the scabbard, the sword was simple and elegant. The sheath was a deep gray that verged on black, with a green stitch sealing the leather together. 

Danarius grinned when Leto looked up at him for permission, "You may." 

Leto only nodded. He unsheathed the sword. 

Outside the scabbard, the quality of the blade was unmistakable. It held a razor sharp edge on both sides. It was long and broad but not quite as long and broad as other swords in its class. It was much lighter than it appeared, made specifically to fit the abilities of a strong but small elf. Clearly made of steel, it shone at a high, bright polish. Accents of lyrium had been engraved in strategic places, making the blade lighter and more deadly, and more perfectly suited to fighting alongside a mage. 

"It's yours to wield, my dear. Though I expect you to take good care of it." 

Leto's eyes were shining as he looked up at Danarius, "Thank you, Master. I will wield it in your service."

#da2 #fenris #dragon age #wip ask game

[mirageofthecrystal]

FFxiv 30 Day Writing Challenge - Day 21: Feckless

feckless (adjective)

lacking initiative or strength of character; irresponsible.

"What is the meaning of this," demanded Lord Penderghast of the knight who had callously dragged his own son through the door by the scruff of the neck. "Apologies, my lord, but I found this feckless little knave sneaking around the Vault of all places. And as you very well know, my lord, the Vault is no place for children or those who are not expressly bidden. And as the young one loudly informed me, his father would something to say to me if I did not unhand him immediately. Thus, I ascertained that he was your son, and brought him here forthwith before he could cause any more disturbance." The knight still grasped Faiolan by the collar of his tunic, and resignation crossed the face of his father who sighed a deep sigh, shaking his head.

"Very well, ser. You may turn him over to my custody, and I will ensure he understands that the Vault is no place for a child to play. If this happens again, please call upon me to retrieve him from a cell. The punishment will do him some good." "As you wish, Lord Penderghast. May the Fury take you in her eye." The knight bowed and departed, leaving father and son together within the chamber. Like the Vault, this chamber was another such place that Faiolan was not to be unless expressly bidden. His father's study, wherein the Lord Aloysius Penderghast did conduct affairs on behalf of his own branch house as well as matters for the High House from which they hailed, House Durendaire, was a sacred place so far as the boy was concerned. And so, for mayhaps the first time, Faiolan looked upon it and saw all the things that lay within.

An enormous desk of some polished black wood, carvings laid within it and lined with silver that depicted King Thordan and his Knights, one of whom was believed to be a direct ancestor of his if traced all the way back to those olden times. His father always said that it was by the bravery of those knights that all lives in Ishgard were allowed to be, and so it was important to keep within memory all their names and deeds, for the same responsibility was owed to Ishgard by all those who hailed from the Houses. They were the caretakers of Ishgard, noble and commoner alike, and it was only by their efforts that the nation would survive all its trials and tribulations.

"And why, pray tell, were you skulking around the Vault?" Lord Penderghast was not the sort to beat around the bush. He would not entertain any attempts to lie or deceive, and Faiolan knew better than to try. He did not, however, know better than to try and plead innocence. "I wasn't skulking. I was... just... nearby. I wanted to see the knights. That's all." Lord Penderghast elevated a brow, which was enough to break the boy's resolve. "Okay, maybe a little... but I just wanted to see them is all! The Heaven's Ward!" Faiolan was practically obsessed with them, the great knights who served as the Archbishop's greatest warriors and protectors. He dreamed of being one, one day.

"But you know better, don't you? You know the Vault is off-limits. And you know that the knights of the Heaven's Ward have not the time or inclination to entertain the idle curiosities of a boy." Faiolan huffed and crossed his arms. "I just wanted to see them is all! Who makes those stupid rules anyway? If there's a place, why can't people just go there?" "Because, my son, it is not a playground for children. It is a most holy place and is of great significance. If we allowed anyone to stroll into our most sacred places, then what would be the point of venerating them? Would you enjoy it if I wordlessly strolled into your room, while you were perhaps sleeping, just to get a look at you?" "Well... no... but..." "There you have it. If you cannot even obey the simplest of things such as this, how do you expect to become one of them one day?"

Faiolan paused to think, and then smiled. "By being the strongest warrior!" He flexed, then pretended to swing about a blade and slay a dragon. "My dear boy, being a knight isn't about being the strongest. Yes, they are surely skilled in battle, but I've told you a thousand times. What is a knight?" Faiolan parroted back that which his father expected, "A protector, an example, and something to aspire to..." "That's right. Some may not be the strongest or the mightiest, but they are of honor without reproach, souls of benevolent intent, and they protect Ishgard from all her ills. They are charitable, knowledgeable, compassionate... perhaps not each of them all these things, but they exemplify the greatest qualities of what a person should be. And you, my boy, lack quite a few of those traits. For though not every knight must be possesses of every virtue, all knights are sworn by oaths of duty and responsibility. A knight would not tread in a sacred place that they are unwelcome. And you will never set foot near the Vault again unless you are expressly allowed, is that clear?"

Faiolan pouted, but his father rose from his desk, showing he was serious and expected a proper answer, the one he'd expect from a knight-to-be. "Yes father. I understand." "Very good. And I was serious when I told that knight to leave you in the dungeons next time. If your own good sense won't keep you out of trouble, I'm sure that will. Perhaps I'll even be too busy to fetch you, and you'll have to spend the eve with the vile criminals and heretics." Heretics, the itinerant bogeyman that caused fear in even the hearts of children. But then Aloysius chuckled, crossing the room and putting his hand on his son's head to assuage his horror. "I jest, I jest. But, I think this is time for a proper lesson, a knightly lesson. You will begin to learn responsibility, duty, and the importance of following the rules. Come along." Faiolan and his father left the study behind, Aloysius locking the door as he always did. If his son so wished to become a knight one day, then he would learn what it meant... and what it could cost if he did not learn the value of virtues.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv #ffxiv mateus #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv crystal #ffxiv rp #ffxiv blogging #faiolan penderghast

[calangkoh]

I'm n 09 fan but you hit the nail on the head with the Ed review tbh. 03 got a lot right, the intensity, the tragedy, color, framing, and Ed's characterization, and I feel like 09s biggest weakness is that Bones didnt see it worth the time to put that buildup and care back in the series. Like there's some assumption you've seen 03 so they didnt need to build those things up again. I cant stand the first arc of 09 because 03 did everything better and the conclusion to 09 is more satisfying when -

-when the early bits hit harder. Feels more earned than just hopeful. I really wish they'd just combined the two to get that really emotional impact alongside the earned happy ending.

thank you, anon, for the back up here. i know this is just one, definitely unpopular, opinion, and i don’t expect people to agree with me, but it is nice when people do. 

i understand why they had to rush it, because then the already long 64 episodes would be around 75-80, and only so much time had passed between the two series that it would be tedious to retread the same material. but when most people now skip the 03 series, they dont know what theyre missing with that intensity and characterization and its really unfortunate. then they hear bad things about 03 and assume theyre true. 

i would agree that fmab is the Technically better (as in, from an actual technical standpoint...its more polished, but that doesn’t mean it’s overall better) but i think 03 is still equal to it in terms of quality and impact, and in many (but not all) areas exceeds it in emotional weight and depth. and as far as the happy ending goes, i agree. the fmab ending (the general climax/resolution: ed beats father, gives up his alchemy, beats truth, and reclaims what he lost and got even more than he started with) is amazing and clever and satisfying. but parts of it while watching, like when he mentions nina, im like...wait really? you’re mentioning nina? i hardly remember her in this series. 

and ed has learned this huge lesson in fmab leading to him beating truth, but in comparison to 03 ed i feel...what did he really learn? fmab ed learned friendship is the real alchemy lol (that’s very reductive i apologize. it is a really good lesson--that we’re simple humans and that’s okay because the bonds we make are worth the weakness--and i love that scene so so much). i feel fmab didnt earn much because in comparison to 03 (and again, i only feel this negativity toward fmab because ive seen 03. the comparison is the real enemy here, because otherwise i wouldn’t have a problem with fmab beyond maybe just not caring for ed because he’s just not my kind of character, but i wouldn’t have much backing to WHY i dont care for him. 03 gives me the specific reasons by having what fmab doesnt.) 

he didnt truly get challenged. 03 ed had all his beliefs, morals, and worldview challenged, while fmab ed was usually just right about everything. the lesson he learned was one he should have learned after he transmuted his mother. it was an obvious lesson “hey youre just a human accept it. one is all and all is one.” while 03 ed learned that lesson long ago. the lessons ed learns are more extensions of accepting that he’s a small human. he learns about what that means. what his impact on the world is. what consequences are. what the value of believing in something is. what it means to lose something. the flaws of equivalent exchange as a philosophy of life. etc. his lessons are far more applicable to real life and honestly, at the risk of sounding pretentious because “blah blah mature story = better” which is something i don’t generally believe (though it is case by case), are more mature. 

i probably went on a tangent, but point is, fmab good, but i do find 03 to be more mature, deeper, and have a more compelling interpretation of edward. and i agree with anon that the rushed beginning of fmab (remember fmab covers what happened over 33 episodes of fma03 in a measly 12!! fma 03 had fillers and anime-original plotlines, sure, but they were good--except for episode 4 i fucking hate that episode. and the tree people episode is a little weird but was important for lust’s character--and all added something. “fillers” arent bad! they’re important for pacing and development!) contribute to why fmab ed as a character falls flat to me (but there’s also a lot more than just the beginning as to why he does). 

#ask

[pengiesama]

A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: A Ring for a Ring, a Sweet for the Sweet Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

Just as Hua Cheng once gave him a ring to pledge him his life, Xie Lian gives Hua Cheng a ring to pledge him his hole.

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

--

Xie Lian was going into this birthday prepared. He had a plan in his head, a wish in his heart, and many thoughts cursing his dick.

--

This plan, this wish, this curse; it all started one fateful morning about a month ago. You see, the married life came with innumerable pleasures, and one of these was the comfort of a regular morning routine. Summarized, and truncated for length, it went a little like this:

 Step 1: Wake up.

Step 2, Scenario A: San Lang pretending to be asleep, and refusing to break character until Xie Lian provided anywhere between seven to ten morning kisses.

Step 2, Scenario B: San Lang already awake, and distributing morning kisses to Xie Lian’s lips, neck, cock, and other such body parts that would benefit from the application of his tongue.

Step 3: The irrepressible cosmic consequence of either scenario outlined above.

Step 4, Scenario A: San Lang big spoon.

Step 4, Scenario B: Xie Lian big spoon.

Step 5: Helping each other wash, dress, and get ready for the day.

 With Step 1 through Step 4, Scenario B completed, Xie Lian was helping his husband get ready before he had to scurry off to do a few errands. Check on the vegetable garden at the shrine, draw up a few new charms, pop over to the village’s market to see if there were any deals on, put an end to the demon who’d taken up residence in the hills two towns over and who was demanding maiden sacrifices…Xie Lian of course would answer the cries of those in need, but he did wonder, at times, why people were calling upon the God of Scrap-Collecting to slay evil (or at least rough up evil, followed by a stern talking-to). Shouldn’t they be calling upon him for blessings in happening upon excellent and thrifty finds? Ah, well. Always in service of the people.

The lacquered black comb sank thickly into Hua Cheng’s hair, and slid through like a ship through water. Silver chimed with the motions of Xie Lian’s arm. Lately, he’d taken to warming up Hua Cheng’s silver accessories before helping his husband put them on…underneath his sleeping robe, against his bare skin, he was currently sporting one of Hua Cheng’s heavy necklaces and silver belts. Xie Lian never liked the initial cold shock of jewelry against his skin when he was young; brief as the feeling was before his body heat warmed the metal, it was a petty annoyance he always dreaded each morning while still cranky and disoriented from sleep. His poor San Lang had no such respite, with his body’s ghostly chill. Thus, Xie Lian wanted to save his husband such an unpleasantness before a long day of managing his city.

There was, of course, the minor matter that Hua Cheng tended to wear quite a lot of accessories. (And he seemed to only be expanding this tendency after Xie Lian took up the warming habit.) After the necklace and belt were taken care of, he still needed to warm up the bracelets and rings (unthinkable to wear those while tending to San Lang’s beautiful hair), then the earrings and hair accessories, and then the vambraces; these were tricky, and required one-on-one attention. The silver butterflies nesting within the vambraces got excited very easily when Xie Lian touched their home, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d have an armful of butterflies and no vambrace to warm up.

Xie Lian could very easily spend the whole day at this, though his schedule didn’t allow it. Distracted by the movement of the comb through Hua Cheng’s hair, distracted by the low sounds of pleasure Hua Cheng made when Xie Lian absently ran his fingers through the strands, Xie Lian reached out to fumble for one of the many nearby jewelry boxes. Rings, San Lang did need rings to wear with his choice of ensemble today…

Xie Lian’s questing hand came back with a ring; that it was a ring was no question. But…Xie Lian’s brow furrowed as he examined it, turning it this way and that, the silver glinting in the bedroom light. Beautiful, with delicate engravings of blooming flowers across its surface, the quality silver thick and heavy in his palm. But this ring was much too large for his San Lang’s elegant, slender fingers, was it not? Though Xie Lian’s hands were smaller, they weren’t that much smaller, and he could fit both his thumbs inside it easily…

“Gege,” Hua Cheng purred, allowing his hair to fall over his shoulder in an alluring and altogether deliberate manner. “Did you find something you’d particularly like to see me in today?”

Hua Cheng’s gaze fell on the ring that Xie Lian was examining, and his confident, sly expression dropped all at once. His hand twitched, then fisted in his robes; as if he wanted to snatch away the ring but didn’t dare do so. Xie Lian blinked, confused.

“Is this a ring that San Lang wears while in a different skin?” Xie Lian asked. “It’s lovely, but seems much too big for San Lang’s…fing…er…”

Xie Lian trailed off, and the truth of the matter took root in his mind as his cheeks began to burn with a familiar heat. And oh, did those roots find eager and fertile soil.

Now, Xie Lian was inexperienced in bedroom matters, this much was true. But he was not stupid, and he also knew what his husband’s dick looked like at this point. This ring was indeed too large for Hua Cheng’s slender and elegant fingers. But it was just the right size to fit around the base of Hua Cheng’s thick, heavy cock.

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng croaked. “This one apologizes for leaving such an item in—”

“This is a cock ring,” Xie Lian murmured, as if in a trance state, approaching a level of enlightenment not yet seen.

Hua Cheng’s physical form briefly flickered; hearing His Highness say such words so bluntly, with such an irresistibly flushed face, was very much like being struck by a divine force, staggering in its power. He took a deep breath to regain control of himself, and nodded.

“Yes,” Hua Cheng admitted. “This one is much ashamed to not be able to please His Highness as he deserves, on some nights. I crafted such a crude instrument in hopes that it would help with control, but it still is not up to the task, nor is it worthy of the honor of being used in His Highness’ bed…”

Xie Lian was brought back to reality long enough to refute such a self-abasing statement.

“San Lang always pleases me!” Xie Lian stated firmly. It wasn’t always about lasting for hours! It was about both of them enjoying the experience! First off, his San Lang lasted a perfect amount of time; secondly, even when he did come too fast, it just meant that Xie Lian had that much more come in him, and one of Xie Lian’s primary goals in his immortal life now was to be filled with as much of Hua Cheng’s come as physically possible. And if Xie Lian had to wait hours each time before Hua Cheng would finally come inside…

…but perhaps it was about the challenge. This was something a (formerly) martial god could understand. This was something that could overcome Xie Lian’s shyness, could reach deep within him and seize him by the heart and make him rise to the occasion. The buildup of his husband’s frustration and need, the challenge of overcoming the restriction of the ring, of riding Hua Cheng and filling him with so much pleasure that he would burst forth and break through – just as Hua Cheng had once done to free him from the bonds of his cursed shackles. (But like, with less dying afterwards. And with waaaaaay more come filling up Xie Lian’s insides.) Yes. Yes, this was a challenge Xie Lian was ready to help his San Lang face. They would do it together.

“I’m going to borrow this,” Xie Lian said. “Is that okay?”

“…as it pleases His Highness,” Hua Cheng replied, with no little confusion.

He’d find out soon enough.

--

Xie Lian worked tirelessly, during every free moment, to perfect this most important of spiritual relics: the Incorruptible Chastity Cock Ring. Although last year’s birthday present proved that his sewing skills left something to be desired (and his dear, sweet husband still insisted on wearing that ridiculous belt any chance he got), his metalworking skills, again, proved much more polished. Polished enough to make this ring even more of a sight to behold.

He’d amassed enough followers, and enough donations, to permit him to spend on sourcing quality metal for the project – he of course would not dip into Hua Cheng’s own art supplies, nor his purse. Though both were open to him at all times, that was hardly the spirit meant for a birthday gift! And thus, with silver that was not dug up out of his own grave this time, he’d set to work.

The expertly engraved ring now sported four fine silver chains, from which many chiming seed-shaped silver beads dangled. These silver chains were meant to drape alluringly across Hua Cheng’s muscular thighs and lean hips, and chime with every movement. The chains could be attached to any of Hua Cheng’s silver belts, which Xie Lian considered a very clever foresight on his own behalf. It would be very convenient, this way. (Though it would, of course, mean that a bit of warming up would be needed before he could dress San Lang for the occasion.)

The day of Hua Cheng’s birthday came, and the rush of adrenaline that was warding off Xie Lian’s shyness was beginning to wear off. What was he doing, presenting his husband with such a gift!? My darling, my one and only, my San Lang, here’s a cock ring that you made yourself because you come too fast in bed. Happy birthday! But Xie Lian tried to remember the goal here, the challenge, the pursuit of excellence. Those who ascended were ones who were capable of seeing beyond the limits of what was thought impossible. And Xie Lian so loved dressing Hua Cheng up before a hard day of work.

The moment the midnight hour struck, Ghost City was bright with cheers and fireworks. When Hua Cheng next stepped out of his residence, he would be greeted with a thousand congratulations and well-wishes: Lord Chengzhu, happy birthday!

Great Lord Mayor, happy eight-hundred-twenty-third! If’n I could count that high, I’d lop off the hands of eight hunn’erd twenny third sinners and deck these streets with ‘em!

What a waste of hands! Ya know you can fry those up, doncha!? Or sell them to tourists!

And an occasion such as this calls fer decadence! Like scattering hands all over the streets!! But, for now, Xie Lian had Hua Cheng all to himself.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered into his ear, before kissing it. “Happy birthday. Would you like to open your present?”

Such an offer was a surefire way to get Hua Cheng to stop pretending to be asleep. In an instant, Xie Lian was tackled onto his back on the bed, and pinned in place by the press of Hua Cheng’s lean body and the insistent lips against his own.

“Gege is too kind,” Hua Cheng sighed between kisses. “Too generous. For days I’ve been thinking of nothing but the birthday dinner you promised me, and now gege is telling me that he’s got more gifts up his sleeves?”

Seizing upon the opportunity provided by the wording, Hua Cheng’s greedy hands snuck up the sleeves of Xie Lian’s sleeping robes, squeezing and groping at his arms as he went. The right idea, but the wrong direction…

“It’s…um…” Xie Lian trailed off, his cheeks flaring red. He had a planned script for this. Something about a ring for a ring, sweets for the sweet. The lines were lost to him now. But the intent certainly was not.

Slowly, shyly, Xie Lian slid a hand down the front of his own robes. Hua Cheng’s eye followed the movement raptly, and his touch grew heavier on Xie Lian’s bicep. Taking a moment to steel his courage, Xie Lian ran his fingers along the tie of his robe once, twice, before tugging at it to loosen it and let his robes slip open.

“I wanted to make sure it was warm enough for San Lang to wear comfortably,” Xie Lian explained softly.

Silver glinted through the part of his robe. One of Hua Cheng’s silver belts hung around Xie Lian’s hips, flush against his bare skin. Chiming silver chains dangled from it, leading the eye downward to where they joined at that thick, heavy engraved silver ring. It really was much too big for one’s finger, and still a bit too big for Xie Lian’s own cock. He feared it looked a bit silly – even half-hard as he was, it was clear that there was no way he’d fill it out. Of course, Hua Cheng would have no trouble.

Hua Cheng stared openly, blatantly; hungrily and open-mouthed. His grip on Xie Lian’s bicep was bruising.

“…Your Highness,” he eventually managed to say. His voice was low and raw enough to send a shiver through Xie Lian’s limbs, to make those silver beads chime with the motion of his bare legs sliding against the silk sheets. “Your graciousness knows no bounds. This humble follower doesn’t deserve such a magnificent gift.”

Xie Lian took Hua Cheng’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks between his palms. He leaned in to press a kiss between Hua Cheng’s brows.

“My husband,” he murmured against Hua Cheng’s skin, his breath warm. “Deserves many such magnificent things.”

The kiss that followed was deep and slow, and full of a wet heat that took Xie Lian from half-hard to fully rigid. The ring still slid off with ease, though Hua Cheng’s fingers were so careful and gentle and slow in their ministrations to remove it that Xie Lian could have cried (or laughed, really) in frustration. Hua Cheng was equally slow and deliberate while undoing the belt tied around Xie Lian’s waist, taking his time, dipping his fingers underneath the belt while he worked to feel the heat radiating off Xie Lian’s abdominals.

“San Lang,” groaned Xie Lian.

Hua Cheng chuckled weakly, and kissed Xie Lian’s throat in recompense. “Gege’s patience is appreciated. I have to wait for my blood to cool before I can wield his gift.”

Xie Lian blinked, curious. “Oh? Is that how it works? Much ashamed, I’ve not much experience. But that does make sense, considering the intent…”

It was Hua Cheng’s turn to groan, and he punctuated it with a dramatic collapse into the pillows next to Xie Lian’s head.

“Gege is not helping with the blood cooling,” Hua Cheng grumbled, with affection clear in the accusation.

“My sincerest apologies,” Xie Lian replied, not sorry at all.

It took some long, painfully and deliciously slow minutes – drawn out by their refusal to stop kissing for the duration – before Hua Cheng’s cock softened enough to slide the ring on. Xie Lian, too, went slowly, carefully, guided by Hua Cheng’s slightly-trembling fingers and the glide of oil to ease any discomfort. When the work was done, Xie Lian squirmed out from under Hua Cheng to survey his handiwork.

His San Lang looked so lovely. The sheen of the oil on his cock, the glinting silver decorating the thick base and draping artfully across his strong thighs. The delicate chimes looked ticklish against his balls; Xie Lian reached out a hand to brush his knuckles against the velvety soft skin there and was rewarded by a delicious groan and squirm.

Oh, before he forgot…there was indeed one more surprise that Xie Lian had for the birthday boy. When he’d set to work on this precious spiritual tool, he’d added some features...

Xie Lian traced both hands along the silver chains, and they shivered with spiritual energy. Hua Cheng wore a priceless expression of shock on his face for a brief moment as he felt the pulse of energy, but had no further opportunity to react before the cock ring itself pulsed once, twice, thrice, more. It continued to pulse around Hua Cheng’s cock in time with the racing beat of Xie Lian’s heart. With each pulse, Hua Cheng’s hips jerked upward involuntarily; with each jerk, those silver chimes rang melodiously. Hua Cheng’s mouth hung open wordlessly, his eye glazed with pleasure that stole his sight and sense.

Very convenient, indeed. Xie Lian could probably just leave him like this and go about his daily errands, secure in the thought that his husband would be waiting for him in bed at home, desperate for relief after hours of tension that threatened to snap him in two. But that wouldn’t be particularly kind to do to him today. The birthday boy would have his release in due time, with only as much teasing as Xie Lian could bear.

“Did I warm it up well enough for San Lang’s comfort?” Xie Lian asked, stretching himself out along Hua Cheng’s side as he jerked and twitched. He stroked his palm along Hua Cheng’s lovely pectorals, down his stomach. He pressed the back of his hand to the silver belt to test its temperature. Xie Lian hmmed thoughtfully and moved to toy with one of the silver chains. “I suppose it’s still a bit chilly. Will you ever forgive me?”

“H…Hhh-highne…ssss…” Hua Cheng managed to slur out, then let out an animalistic moan as the pulses around his cock grew in intensity. Xie Lian made a comforting noise, and kissed Hua Cheng’s temple soothingly. His poor San Lang. It couldn’t be helped; the cock ring’s pulses were tied to Xie Lian’s heartbeat, and there was no controlling that when he was with Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian decided, there and then, that it was time to test the integrity (and the Incorruptible Chastity) of this spiritual artifact. He’d prepared himself before waking Hua Cheng; he thanked himself profusely for this foresight, as he doubted he had the patience to do it now and could hardly ask Hua Cheng to do all the work today. He already had enough to deal with right now.

Hua Cheng’s hands, previously fisted in the silk bedsheets in a vain attempt at controlling himself, flew to seize Xie Lian’s waist as Xie Lian moved to straddle him. Any protests died in his throat as the tip of his cock pressed into Xie Lian’s entrance, already warm and willing and ready. Xie Lian sighed in relief at the stretch and the fullness, and bounced and wriggled his hips until Hua Cheng’s cock was in him fully. He could feel the slight coolness of the silver ring against the rim of his hole, could feel the pulsations of the ring inside and out. Xie Lian gave a full-body shiver, and almost absentmindedly lifted the crystal ring around his neck up to his lips to kiss. The gesture grounded him, it soothed him, it—

“Your Highness…”

The warning growl of that title came too little, too late. Driven mad by the beat of Xie Lian’s heart and the burning heat of his body, Hua Cheng’s grip on Xie Lian’s waist became completely ungentle. His fingers gripped with bruising force, and he bounced Xie Lian on his cock with harsh, fast motions; endlessly chasing a release that would not come, to the tune of chiming silver chains. He pounded as deep into him as he could reach, and seemed as if he could hardly stand having even an inch of him not inside. It was all Xie Lian could do to hold onto Hua Cheng’s shoulders, to hold himself steady even as his thigh muscles began to burn with the strain, to let Hua Cheng fuck into him and use his body as a tool for his pleasure.

The first time Xie Lian came, it only left him hungry for more. The fifth time left him lying limp and slack, sprawled on his back as Hua Cheng’s cock continued to relentlessly fuck him, in and out, with no signs of stopping or slowing. Xie Lian’s insides ached to be soothed by the rush of Hua Cheng’s come. After the eighth time, with his face now pressed into a pillow and Hua Cheng’s cock still tirelessly pumping his prone body, chimes still jingling as brightly and eagerly as they had at the start, Xie Lian himself began to beg for that as well.

“S-s-sssan Lang…” Xie Lian could hardly get the words out, his tongue felt thick and heavy and useless in his mouth. “S-san Lang, need…need it…”

Hua Cheng moaned against Xie Lian’s neck, and briefly paused in his efforts to cover every inch of it with bite marks and hickies. His mouth moved to Xie Lian’s ear; biting it once before he spoke into it, sounding rich and low and just as wrecked as Xie Lian.

“Anything His Highness needs, anything, anything, I’ll give it – mnnnhh, mmm – oh, Your Highness, Your Highness is so good to me, so good to this San Lang…mmh, feels so perfect inside, does it feel as good for gege? Is he ready to come again for me?”

Xie Lian let out a desperate moan as Hua Cheng expertly adjusted his angle to aim his thrusts against that spot inside of him. He wouldn’t last much longer, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stay conscious for round ten. And Hua Cheng still hadn’t come even once inside of him – Xie Lian could endure many hardships, but this was too much, too much!

“San Lang! I want it, I want that!” Xie Lian wailed with the desperation of a dying man. “Ah-ahhhh, I need it, I need you to give it all to me, please, please, won’t you please – ohh! Please, please have mercy, San Lang-gege, please have mercy and fill me up…”

Xie Lian’s heart was racing like a parade drum. He could only imagine the mayhem being wrought upon his husband’s dick by the cock ring’s enchantment. But he trusted his husband – he trusted him to break through, break through with him and see the limits of the highest heavens –

Hua Cheng let out a shout and a shockwave of spiritual energy strong enough to blow back the curtains on the bed, and released into Xie Lian enough come that Xie Lian felt his stomach grow taut with it. He felt his eyes roll back into his head, and let himself pass out midway through his ninth orgasm.

His conscious mind swam back after some time, and he found himself bundled against Hua Cheng’s strong chest. Morning was just breaking outside the window, but today was a day for sleeping in. Xie Lian breathed in his husband’s scent and let himself be lulled back to sleep. He still had to make that birthday dinner today, and needed to regain his strength.

--

“Oh? Did something happen out here?”

While things were stewing, Xie Lian needed to make a quick run to the market to pick up some supplies he’d forgotten. Outside of Paradise Manor, he found Yin Yu with a broom, sweeping a path through the severed hands that had been scattered on the road outside. If Xie Lian were to make a rough estimate, there were approximately eleven hundred sixty-seven of them. There was also a crudely written banner hung in the blossoming trees on the roadside, that read: HAPPAY BARTH DAY LARD CHENGZHU.

“They do try, don’t they?” Xie Lian said to Yin Yu, fondly. “Once I’m back from the market, I’ll help you clean up out here.”

“They do try,” Yin Yu agreed. “And no, no, Your Highness has business to attend to.”

Xie Lian smiled and gave a grateful bow. “Your Highness Yin Yu is welcome to join us for dinner. I’ll save some stew for him! Please don’t hesitate to drop by later.”

Yin Yu watched as Xie Lian expertly stepped around the hands littering the streets, then disappeared into the bustle of the Ghost City market. He gave a deep, resigned sigh and returned to sweeping.

--

#天官赐福 #tgcf #heavenly official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #a tenderly crafted fanfiction

[astro-break]

I don’t see it being talked about here, so I get to ramble about Crazy:B and Honeycomb Summer so buckle in, its going to be a ride

Quick disclaimer. This is the first time I’m doing something like that and I am simply coming from this as a fan and not as a professional. Some of the things I say might be wrong. And thats okay, I invite you to DM/Ask me questions, correct me, and even have a discussion with me. I’m very willing to learn from things I’ve done wrong and I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this as well. The main purpose of this post will be to analyze Crazy:B’s growth through MVs with really low quality screenshots as my evidence/to make your reading experience more tolerable. I’ll also be speculating as to what might come going forward for the unit so if that interests you skip to the smiling Nikki screenshot near the end. So with that out of the way, have a smiling HiMERU and Nikki, get some water, and lets start.

So one thing ive always noticed with the previous Crazy:B MVs is the distance each member has with each other. This is most prevalent in Crazy Roulette, as the only real contact anyone has with each other is HiMERU and Rinne in that one “Bet. Omae wa dou da” part. In formation transitions, the space they give each other is pretty wide which in itself isn’t that big of a deal but it’s more common to have quick and snappy transitions with minimal spacing in a faster paced song such as Crazy Roulette. This especially holds true in the chorus but Crazy:B seems to be going for a more “Rile up the crowd” approach to both keep up their image as a party unit and allow their members more time to transition into the next formation

Even in shots where usually you’d expect the to be back to back with each other, they have a large gap between them as if there’s supposed to be a third member filling that space. (Note that Kohaku seems to be guilty of this the most. I think that this just speaks more to Kohaku’s impression of idols at this point in the story and the reason why he even entered the idol world in the first place.)

Even in the one scene of physical contact, HiMERU looks almost sad, wistful even, before putting on a stage smile. In HiMERU’s solo section, his face if very much melancholic and maybe even a little bit regretful. One can play it off as his lyrics have quite the somber tone as it is a lull to help increase the hype when the chorus comes around again, but wistful seems a bit odd when talking about having resolve and taking into account the general party like atmosphere of the song. Keep it in mind because it’s a reoccurring happenstance throughout these three MVs

The distance between the members is especially interesting as Crazy:B’s image is that of a wild and well, party like fun unit where the audience can just loose themselves in the adrenaline and hype. Their songs have a very rave kind of feel, the type that would get you on your feet and hopping around with your friends, so why would a unit like with such a party like vibe that keep there distance? Perhaps its because they are a newly formed unit so their approach of “Interact with the crowd” is better for them as it allows them to take more breaks, alleviate a lot of the pressure of dancing on stage, and it builds a loyal fanbase through constant fan interaction. Though it’s still very obvious from this one MV that Crazy:B is a unit made out of convenience and they’re not having any true fun while up on stage. Their smiles appear forced and it’s like they’re simply moving in accordance with the choreo. The only one who remotely looks like they’re having fun is Rinne, who lets himself go wild. We’ll see more of that in Be the Party Bee

Overall, Crazy Roulette sets up what Crazy:B is at the start of the main story. You can see that they are very individualistic and probably aren’t doing this for fun, simply out of obligation with the only exception being Rinnie. Despite being more polished and more technically impressive, they lack the unity that Alkaloid has. It’s a very good base for Crazy:B to grow from, and they definitely improve throughout the next two MVs

Okay now that we’re finally done with analyzing Crazy Roulette, have a picture of Kohaku smiling. Go drink your water and maybe stretch a bit before we move on 

Be the Party Bee starts off with a weird formation with very little symmetry but then again its Crazy:B, thats pretty on brand. It’s important to note here that the distance between everyone is noticeably lessened, there’s more physical contact between members, and the group seems all the more relaxed. The MV came out around the time the final main story chapter was released (If I’m wrong about this please correct me) so it’s around the end of Crazy:B’s unit arc. It makes sense for them to be pretty comfortable with each other at this point with all the shenanigans they went through.

Rinne especially goes off in this Live with very exaggerated motions. He’s all over the stage, kicking cheering and being very Rinne. You see some of this in Crazy Roulette but its in Be the Party Bee that his off the wall enthusiasm is on full display. He’s a beacon, drawing everyone’s attention to himself but he also passes off the baton to everyone else, giving each member the attention with his crazy antics. Its subtle but also really embarrassing on the recipients’ side, but its there none the less. It’s pretty interesting change from his more self-centered character that was showcased in the main story (Side note, I haven’t read the mains story. At all. If this is wrong please tell me). This side of him comes into play in Honeycomb Summer as well.

There’s still some tension in the group though with them still not feeling super at ease with each other. Distance is still present, and though it is much less than what it was in Crazy Roulette, you still have a sense that these members still aren’t all that comfortable with each other yet. You can see this in shots where the group is required to get into each other’s personal space. But at this point, they have a on stage dynamic that resembles a well thought out shuffle group that meshes well together.

Speaking of shuffle groups, it’s interesting to see how Nikki acts during Date Plan A to Z (The whole MV is interesting in of itself but I won’t speak too much about that. If anyone wants me to make a post on it tho i won’t be opposed) His movements in that MV suggest that he is very much used to someone invading his personal space in the middle of a Live coughcoughRinnecoughcough (Note how he leans back from Natsume as if he’s anticipating him to come closer) and thus acts pretty reserved from the other members of AtoZ. But you also get a very real and genuine smile from him which also implies that up till this point, idol work was an obligation and he didn’t find much joy in the people he worked with but with this new shuffle group, he’s found that being an idol can be genuinely fun. Perhaps its because he was working with Rinne this whole time, working with a whole new group of people, none of which are Rinne, is a new experience for him and he finds himself genuinely enjoying being an idol. Seeing as AtoZ happens after the main story, I hope that we see how being in a shuffle group affects how Nikki interacts with his unitmates in the Heat Haze

One last thing to note about Be the Party Bee is actually HiMERU. His movements during both Crazy Roulette and Party Bee are noticeably more restrained than the other members. It’s more glaring in Party Bee as the unit works more as a team than as individuals. The most obvious section of this happening is during a tradition space where the team breaks off into two groups and fool around for a bit to get into position. Nikki and Kohaku pull this off spectacularly and their little pokes at each other seem fun, high energy, and playful. HiMERU on the other hand, focuses solely on getting into position, barely doing anything to Rinne’s attempts to provoke him into the same playful energy. There are other parts where we get an idea that HiMERU is holding himself back, but this is the most noticeable one. My speculation (hah) is that it also ties into why he looks so melancholic in Crazy Roulette, but we’ll never know what happens in canon until HappyEle gives us some lore crumbs

Overall, Be the Party Bee showcases how Crazy:B is slowly learning to work with each other and mesh together into a cohesive unit. They’re still far from perfect and each member still goes off and does things on their own but overall they have a very different feeling from Crazy Roulette

So we’re halfway done, I’m still surprised that you’re here still reading spontaneous ramblings of someone who looks way too closely into MVs. Good job, go stretch, maybe rest your eyes for a while, drink some water, eat something, do whatever you need to take a small break before continuing. Here’s a smiling Rinne as motivation to rest a bit before we move on.

Now we talk about Honeycomb Summer. Honestly its probably one of my favourite ones just because it shows how much Crazy:B has grown as a unit and as characters. From the get go, you can immediately tell how relaxed everyone looks with giant grins on their face and very energetic movements. You really get the idea that they’re having genuine fun being up on stage. And that to me is the best thing any idol can do, is have fun on stage. Because if your performance is brimming with love and fun, your audience knows it and it makes everyone so much happier. And thats my favourite part of being an idol, to make someone’s day just a little bit better, to make them smile. To everyone them that the world isn’t as awful as you think it is.

The first 25 seconds is just them having fun, and though there is still distance between them, its the type of distance that the performers make for each other so that they’re free to play around, not the type of distance that is made because you are unfamiliar with someone. Everyone participates in this play, when previously it was either very choreographed or it was Rinne being Rinne. How do I know it’s not choreographed and its Crazy:B genuienly having fun? Look at the way each member moves. Each move, though uniform, is injected with personality. Nikki is free flowing, energetic, powerful, and bouncy. HiMERU is calm, measured and precise. Kohaku is wild yet still contained, hitting his moves with calculated power. And Rinne is, well he’s his normal off the wall, noodly, playful self.

One thing that has been pointed out a lot by the IG community is Rinne and Nikki’s dynamic. In Party Bee, Nikki was caught up in Rinne’s pace and was dragged along for the ride looking very visibly uncomfortable and put off. Obviously Rinnie invading Nikki’s personal space wasn’t in the choreo and Nikki, being someone who as of the writing of this post doesn’t seem to have that much experience as an idol and with ad-libbing things on the fly, doesn’t really know how to deal with it other than grimace and hope for the best. Honeycomb Summer provides us with a delightfully amusing face as Nikki’s reaction to Rinne’s repeated attempt to throw him off his game. This, my dear readers, is what we call “The neutral face of displeasure”. Is the face of a man who has let his friend get himself into yet another stupid situation and he’s the going to have to apologize on the behalf of his friend. Again. Nikki shows a “Here we go again” type of expression throughout Rinne’s actions, which is quite interesting given that his reaction during Party Bee was nervousness and surprise. Considering that he and Rinne have worked together before the formation of Crazy:B, I have to wonder if Rinne’s antics are a recent development thus Nikki’s surprise as Rinne must have pulled off similar tricks before.

We can clearly see Nikki’s growth and maybe desensitization with his antics when Rinne tries to elicit another reaction out of Nikki. Here, he ends up smiling a cute exasperated smile and its a nice moment where Nikki has grown close enough with Rinne that he can guess when he is going to pull off his ridiculous stunts. The reaction very well may be staged though with how much time was given to highlight such a face, 

What comes next is yet another showcase as to how far Crazy:B has come to trust each other and enjoy each other’s company. Before, it was only Rinne causing chaos, mostly to Nikki, yet in this segment Kohaku and Rinne team up to lovingly bully HiMERU and its the best. Its. its everything I’ve ever wanted and more. I have a full gallery of the group’s antics right here (since I can’t embed every picture into this post, it would get way too long, but i adore this moment) but I can’t even begin to express how great this is when it comes to showcasing Crazy:B’s current dynamic. At this point, the unit is close enough to each other that they feel at ease to fool around on stage. These clearly aren’t staged as they seem to follow the choreo yet there’s aspects that seem very organic such as HiMERU’s small jab at Kohaku with his admittedly very cute smile and Rinne barging in on the two’s play. This is further backed up by how awkward HiMERU and Kohaku’s choreographed movements are, as if the performance barged into their moment. Even HiMERU and Rinne’s exchange is very reminiscent of Rinne’s antics during Party Bee though HiMERU handles these provocations in vastly different ways from Nikki. These small moments are organic, fun, and a small window into what the current dynamic between the unit is like.

The chorus certainly doesn’t disappoint either with so many good story telling beats. Throughout the chorus its very evident that Crazy:B is still a unit of individualists, though these individualists have learned to work together to create a performance that they alone as one person could never hope to create. They each get a chance to sing a small solo but their movements tell a different story, one that meshes very well with the whole. Instead of riling up the crowd like they did in Crazy Roulette, the unit instead uses their dance to entice the audience, sticking to the center of the stage and preforming as a collective, very rarely moving to the wings. That transition from individual to collective is such a satisfying change, and it speaks to how Crazy:B has developed trust with one another, knowing that the unit is there to cover if they ever make any mistakes.

Arguably, the best thing about this MV is the sheer number of genuine smiles that are on their faces. I have around 30 screenshots of just their smiles, a portion which can be found here, and the rest I’m willing to share if anyone just asks damn it. The amount of precious and pure smiles in this performance is staggering that my measly 30 screenshots is a simple fraction of how many beautiful smiles there are. For the first time, you get the feeling that they’re having fun up on stage. It really reminds me of Knights and their own growth and how they came together as a unit as well. In terms of growth, Crazy:B has gone through probably the most alongside Valkyrie and their progression from an individualistic and fragmented group made out of duty and convenience to a family is such a joy to watch 

Here’s the curious thing through. HiMERU still keeps his distance away from anyone. Even in the group shot, he isn’t as close with anyone as everyone and shies away from Rinne’s attempts at invading his personal space. Notice how HiMERU is right beside Rinne in the first screenshot, but quickly moves forward very quickly even through its clear that Rinne is attempting a hug. Even in the second screenshot, as they invade Kohaku’s space, HiMERU still keeps his distance, simply poking his head in to follow with the choreography while Rinne and Nikki bounce towards Kohaku. (Though this is can also be explained as HiMERU respecting personal space, something Crazy:B isn’t all to fond of doing in general) Nonetheless, its clear that he is enjoying himself, and his movements are much more energetic and expressive compared to the previous performances, he’s still more conservative when compared to the other members.

One final observation I had was how down to earth Rinne could be at times. At some points, he seems lost in thoughts, acting like HiMERU at times. These are very few, only appearing twice if I’m not wrong, but they are followed with Rinne “harassing” his unit mates. This leads me to believe that there is something on his mind and his heart isn’t fully in the performance. I have no idea as to the reason why this may be the case, but I hope it’s addressed in the coming event. I’ll talk about about my own hypothesizes in the next segment though

Finally, we’re finished with Honeycomb Summer. I thoroughly enjoyed the MV and it was absolutely brimming with so many details that make me so excited for the coming event. The growth showcased in this one performance is phenomenal and awe inspiring. I’m really impressed by the people who modeled and programmed the MV, it’s no easy feat to create such subtle expressions and dynamic movements.

Okay, so we’re in the final stretch here. I’d like all of you to take a moment to listen to your body and attend to anything you need to do. Maybe stretch a bit, drink some water, talk with someone, take a small break. Nikki is cheering you on as we enter the final segment.

Alright so this final section will be my thoughts on what’s going to happen in the future. The main topic on the table will be: So what I am hoping to see in the new event? bc let’s be real, HappyEle likes to throw us curveballs, we won’t actually know what happens in these events until the come out

My first and most selfish wish is for Shuffle Units to be addressed and how being in AtoZ affected Nikki. Looking at both Honeycomb Summer and Date Plan A to Z, Nikki is genuinely happy in both instances. I’d love to see how being in AtoZ made him realize that how he can help change his own unit into an environment that he can genuinely have fun with.

On that note, something that would be really cool would be Crazy:B teasing Kohaku over his partnership with Mikejimaman and being a part of Double Face at the same time with Crazy:B. I’d also like to know how throwing GFK off the stage flew with the rest of the idol world, but we’re most likely not getting that haha.... Actions have consequences guys, I just want to see those consequences come into play.

Something else I’d love to see is Hiiro and Rinne, how their new dynamic has impacted them and the people around them, and how they themselves interact with each other on a daily basis. I’d like to think that Rinne’s odd behavior in the MV is because he’s hit a snag with Hiiro, but we won’t know until the event actually comes out

Finally, can we please have more HiMERU lore. For all the guessing I’m like to do and digging I do in accordance to my own experiences, seeing things that I remember and speculate both becoming canon and getting jossed from hell to back is something i eagerly look forward to. Please HappyEle give us the HiMERU crumbs. They probably won’t though, considering that we recently got a HiMERU feature scout and some lore there :p

And with that, we have reached the end of a very long post. I don’t blame you if rn your expression is like Kohaku or HiMERU, it was very long for the both of us. I think I’ve said all that I wanted to, so any closing thoughts would just be reiterations of what was already said earlier. All I have to say is, Thank you for sticking through this long post, please ask me any questions you might have, and I hope y’all have a good day.

Thanks~

#enstars #ensemble stars #Crazy:B #Amagi Rinne #Rinne Amagi #Shiina Niki #Niki Shiina #Oukawa Kohaku #Kohaku Oukawa #HiMERU #mv analysis #my post #long post #analysis

[onegayastronaut]

A New Beginning (Rosalie Cullen x Reader)

Requested by anon: Would you be okay with writing an imagine for Twilight/Harry Potter, where the reader's a Muggleborn Witch who moves to Forks to try and escape Death Eaters during the war and is found to be Rosalie's mate?

Word count: 2701

After the initial fight with Voldemort, the group that you were with decided that it would be best to spread out and go into hiding. There were heavy casualties on both sides, but the fact remained that there were far more Death Eaters than you could handle. It would be wise to live to fight another day than to die right then and there. All of you got the same magical brand on your arm so you could signal each other if you wanted to gather together as a group. However, now all of you had to Dissaparate as quickly as possible before the Death Eaters found your group.

After leaving, you decided that moving to the United States would be the wisest way to go. Europe was crawling with Death Eaters, with the number joining their ranks growing by the day. You reasoned that it would be smarter to live and fight another day than to die without leaving anyone else to continue the fight. After promising to keep in touch with what few members of the Order were left, you apparated to the state of Washington with a suitcase of money. Even though it would have been smarter to go to a large city where you could easily get lost in the crowd, the fact of the matter was that there was a bigger chance that Voldemort’s poison might have found its way to the larger cities in the US. At least here in the small city of Forks, you were sure there weren’t any Death Eaters who would bother to stop here. Sure, being the latest stranger in town meant that you’d get your fair share of stares from the locals, but getting stared at was better than having anyone trying to kill you.

As soon as you landed in Forks, you noticed that the weather was almost as gloomy as winter weather in England. You rummaged in your pocket and managed to find a few American bills in your pocket. You also found a few pounds and Galleons which you could not use now you were in the United States and headed towards the closest restaurant you could find.

To say that Americans liked to stare was an understatement. It seemed as if everyone at Forks came here during the breakfast rush, and you could feel all eyes glued to you as you stepped in. Everything about you seemed to be different – from your overcoat to your polished leather shoes. You cleared your throat awkwardly as you sat down in the seat closest to the door. After a moment of awkward silence, everyone shifted back to their regular conversations.

“How can I help you, dear?” A nice looking lady came over with a coffee pot in her hand.

“I wanted to know if you had any lodging here for newcomers. I’d also like some coffee.”

“Of course, dear. We have a motel for people who are new here, and I’m sure there are residents here who are willing to share or rent their houses to new people like yourself.”

“That would be great. Could you point me in the direction of the motel?” The lady pointed down the street, and you could manage to see the faint sign of what seemed to be the only motel in town. The waitress had already given you your coffee, and you stood up to go.

America was almost like England, but everything seemed more…plain for some reason. You sighed and continued walking. England will always be home, but you couldn’t think of that now. All that could be done was to regroup and hope that one day you would be able to go back home. As you focused your attention back on the street, you noticed two people standing in front of you, though it seemed strange to call them people. It was a man and woman, with the woman having a girlish quality to her while the man looked like he was sizing you up as you walked toward them. There was something different about the way they looked: there was the beautiful, graceful way they stood there with their golden eyes watching you. Even though it was very cold outside, they seemed to be dressed in very light clothing.

“Hey guys, I’m looking for the motel here.”

“Look, Jasper, this is the lady that I saw in my vision. Even her voice is how I imagined it.” The shorter woman looked excited to see you.

“We can’t trust her. She’s new here to Forks. If we interact with her now, it might expose us to the surrounding neighborhood, and we can’t have that. We’ve always been very careful about who we let in, there’s no reason to change that now. We must talk to Carlisle about her before we bring her along with us.”

“Look, I have no idea who or what you’re talking about. I’m just here for the motel, not to bother anyone.” You reached under your coat and gripped your wand. Has Voldemort already reached the United States? It seemed improbable that his reach could have reached across the pond so quickly, but you couldn’t be too careful.

“You can take your hand out from your pocket you know.” The short lady skipped over to you and put her arm over your shoulders. “My name is Alice, and this is my mate, Jasper. We live here in Forks, and we are –”

“Alice, no.” Jasper’s jaw clenched, and he seemed upset at whatever Alice was about to say.

“You are what?” At this point, you couldn’t tell if they were both crazy or if there was something else going on in this little town you picked.

“We’re vampires. I had a vision of you joining us in the very near future, which is why I was waiting for you here. I just dragged Jasper along with me today because I got bored standing here all by myself.” Alice talked very fast, and after she was done it seemed as if she had lifted a weight off from her back.

After a period of silence, you let out a bark of laughter and started heading off towards the motel. “You really expect me to believe all of that? There’s no such thing as vampires. You’re out of your mind, lady.”

“One can also argue that there’s no such thing as wizards or witches either.” Alice’s statement stopped you in your tracks, and you spun around.

“What do you know about that?”

“Not much until I had my vision about you. It all made sense afterward, since I suspect you kept your presence a secret for many of the same reasons as we allowed humans to think that vampires and werewolves are just myths.”

“Do you mean to tell me that there are werewolves here too?”

“There’s a pack of them just on the outskirts of town.” Jasper finally spoke, and he moved to stand next to Alice. “We have an understanding with them. They don’t come into our territory, and we stay out of theirs.”

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

“Try a spell on me.” Alice moved to the center of the sidewalk and looked at you. “Don’t worry, no one is coming by for the next three and a half minutes.”

You looked around to confirm that the street was empty and took out your wand. After a second of hesitation, you raised and prepared to stun her. “Stupefy!” You saw the spell hit Alice, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on her. This was like nothing you had experienced before, and you tried again. The spell hit Alice square in the chest but she didn’t even flinch.

“Okay, my turn.” You didn’t even see Alice move but in less than a second, she had snatched your wand from your hand and returned to her original place. “What was the spell again? Stupefy?” The wand let out the spell and knocked out a power line. Alice hurriedly returned the wand to you, and you returned the wand back into your pocket. “So, do you believe us now?”

“I do, but that doesn’t give me a reason to trust you.”

“You’re running from something. You’re scared and don’t know who to trust.” Jasper tilted his head and looked away from you. “I believe Alice and I know exactly how that feels. Our family knows what it means to live under the radar and not be noticed.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Let’s just say that knowing how people feel is my specialty.”

“How about you come with us and see how things go? If you don’t like it with us, you’re free to leave.

The house that the Cullens lived in was surprisingly modern considering the fact that Forks was not a modern town. Literally having all the time in the world meant that there were no limitations when it came to earning money.

When you walked through the door, the first person to welcome you was a motherly looking woman. “(Y/N), we are so happy to meet you. I’m Esme.”

“Not to be rude, but how do you know my name?”

“Alice has told us that there would be someone new joining us soon. She didn’t tell us much of anything else about you.”

A man with golden hair came up behind Esme. “My name is Carlisle, and this is my family. Welcome to our home.” He gestured at four other members of his family. “I see you’ve already met Alice and Jasper.”

“Yes, I did. It’s so strange to know that vampires are real.”

“I would argue that all myths have a basis in reality. As a witch, I suspect that you would have your own perspective on how human society, in general, portrays the magical world.”

As Carlisle was talking, the other vampires had come down the stairs and came to introduce themselves. There was Edward, Bella, Emmett and Rosalie in addition to Alice and Jasper. You noticed that Rosalie was hanging back from everyone else and refused to look at you. She seemed to give off a cold air towards you, but you didn’t know why. Shrugging it off, you reasoned that maybe that was just the way she was. You were here to lay low and regroup, not to make friends.

--

As weeks turned into months, you felt like you finally got the hang of living in Forks. Emmett was by far the most fun person to hang out with in your opinion, and Edward was working on teaching you how to play the piano. Being the only person to eat food could be awkward at times, but Carlisle reassured you that you gave them a reason to use the kitchen and act like a normal family by going out to get groceries. The threat of Voldemort still hung over your head, but being with the Cullen family made you feel almost normal. You’ve talked to Carlisle about the real reason why you ended up in Forks, and he agreed to bring this issue to the attention of the Denali coven and figure out a solution. The only person that you didn’t have that much contact with was Rosalie. You still didn’t understand what her deal was since you had done nothing to offend her.

One of the best things that came out of meeting the Cullens was that you could now say you played the piano. Edward was very satisfied with your progress and told you that you were ready for harder pieces. “Edward, why does Rosalie hate me so much?”

“She doesn’t hate you, (Y/N).”

“Then why is she the only one in your family that avoids me?”

“Go talk to her. I know that you want answers, but I believe that it would be best for her to tell you herself.”

“Can’t you read people’s minds? Just tell me why she doesn’t like me.”

“It’s not for me to say. Just tell her, she’s nicer than you think.”

--

Even though everyone lived in the same house, it was still hard to get ahold of someone who seemed to be actively avoiding you. The house was bigger than it looked from the street, and it seemed as if Rosalie was hiding out in the very back in an effort to avoid talking to you.

“Hey Rosalie.”

“Hi.”

“I wanted to talk to you about what’s been going on between us.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there is. I just don’t know why you’ve been so cold towards me but get jealous when I say I went out on a date with someone. For whatever reason, you’ve decided to dislike me from the moment I got here, and I don’t even know why!”

Rosalie finally turned around to look at you, and she actually seemed embarrassed for some reason. “I’ve been avoiding you because you’re my mate, and I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you! I know that humans wouldn’t truly understand what it means to be a vampire’s mate. That’s why I’ve been distant from you.”

“Is that your way of saying you like me?”

“It’s more than that. I don’t know how much you know about mating when it comes to vampires, but I would do anything for you.”

“Is it like the werewolf imprinting thing? Jacob was explaining that to me the other day.”

“Don’t compare us to that species of dog. Vampires are more refined than that. But yes, it’s similar in the sense that we know who we’re meant to be with as soon as we see them. It’s a bond that lasts forever.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say, but that one word you managed to get out sounded so lame that you immediately felt the heat of embarrassment rise to your face.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and it’s fine if you need some time to think about it.”

“I don’t think I’ll mind if we started to date, you know. It definitely helps that you’re really good looking.”

“Oh wow, is that all you’ve gotten for me in the last few months?”

“No, no! I didn’t mean that. You’re a really interesting person, you know.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.” Rosalie came close to you faster than you could react and kissed you on the cheek. “If that’s the case, I’m taking you out on a date tomorrow night. Dress up because we’re going somewhere nice.” She left you standing in the middle of the room with your mouth hanging open.

Before you could gather your senses, you heard a slow clapping come from behind you. Emmett came into view with a devilish smirk. “It looks like the newest member of the Cullen family is finally about to get some action.”

“Oh, stop it, Emmett.” Alice skipped in glaring at Emmett. “We’re going to be busy getting you ready for your first date tomorrow.”

“Wait, did you see this happening before?”

“Yes, I did. Why do you think Jasper and I were waiting for you months ago? I knew you were going to be joining our family right before you came here.”

“Well, before we get to that, there’s the issue of why I came here. Voldemort is still a threat, and I’m concerned he’s going to bring his influence here to the United States.”

“Don’t worry about that, (Y/N).” Alice’s voice was muffled by the stack of clothes she already had in her arms. “Carlisle is already at the Denali’s talking about your issue, and besides, you already know many of your spells have little to no effect on us vampires. Of course, we don’t know how the forbidden curses might affect us, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. I have no doubt that the Denali coven will agree to help us fight against this Voldemort. Now try on these clothes, I need to see if you look good in them.”

You sighed in resignation as you moved to take the clothes from Alice. It seems even the talk of Voldemort couldn’t distract Alice from having her way when it came to new clothes.

#rosalie cullen #rosalie cullen imagine #rosalie cullen x reader #Rosalie Hale #rosalie hale imagine #Rosalie Hale x Reader #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight imagine

[vellichor-virgo]

manuscript search xii

tagged by the lovely @akindofmagictoo 💖 my words are tired, break, ache, & learn

tired (this is from the scene where Celena is hiding behind a door, spying on Iliana and her father, Lorcas):

Then [Lorcas] speaks again. “Oh, look at the time. I’m afraid I must be off; there is something I must attend to.”

“So late at night?”

“Business never sleeps, Iliana. Haven’t I taught you that?” His voice sounds like his daughter’s now, with the same sleek, proud tone; the same quality that suggests that he’s smirking. I suppose he taught her that too. “You should rest, though. You’ve been looking tired.”

Nothing about Iliana’s polished, flawless beauty says tired to me, but she responds, “I’ve had some trouble sleeping of late, that’s all.”

“Is it becoming a problem? I could always get something for you.”

Something? What is that supposed to mean?

break (some sweet big brother Aedan content):

“What are you doing here?” Aedan asks her. “Shouldn’t you be in your lessons?”

The princess turns pleading eyes on her brother, sticking her lower lip out in a pout. “It’s boring, Aedan. They teach me histories for an hour each day, and I always fall asleep and get scolded.”

I bite my lip to suppress a smile. Judging by the look on Aedan’s face, he is trying to do the same.

I watch as he breaks his perfect posture to lean down to Aislin’s level. He reaches out, tenderly tucking a lock of her hair—the same shade of brown as his own—behind her ear. “You need to now these things, Lin. It is important to know history—both your own and that of others.”

Aislin pouts harder. “You’re no help. You sound just as boring as my tutors.”

ache (you’re getting lots of Aislin content today):

Noticing my interested gaze, Maia explains. “The garden was created to celebrate the birth of Princess Aislin, Aedan’s sister. The king ordered for specific flowers to be planted in it, ones that would blossom from the very start of spring to the very end of autumn, so the garden would be in its full beauty for the majority of the year.” She smiles, taking a spoonful of her soup. “Nothing but the best for his only daughter.”

I go still, spoon half-lowered to the bowl.

The words seem to ring out, each one echoing in my ears. In my head. Somewhere deeper still, sending a heavy ache rippling through me.

Nothing but the best for his only daughter.

Something haunting, tinged with familiarity, brushes at the back of my mind.

Across from me, Maia’s slender brows furrow at whatever she sees on my face. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, of course,” I say, a little too quickly.

learn:

It is not until we descend a floor that [Aedan] speaks, turning to me abruptly. “I must go, but I will have Maia come find you. She will spend the rest of the day with you. You’ve got some learning to do in order to be ready for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Didn’t you hear my father?” He looks surprised. “You are to join us for dinner. I will see you then.”

“What?”

“Us meaning my family, as well as several members of the royal court. Bring her to her room for now,” Aedan tells one of his guards. The man nods and steps to my side, ready to escort me away.

“Hold on, what—”

Aedan’s serious hazel eyes lock firmly onto mine, regarding me over his shoulder as he turns to walk away. “One piece of advice, Celena? For both our benefit?”

This makes my spluttering pause, momentarily stilling the rising shock.

“Don’t tell them anything.”

tagging @sleepyowlwrites , @wannabeauthorzofija , @zmlorenz , & anyone else who wants to join in :) new words: ink, snap, drift, & braid !

#manuscript search tag #tag games #my writing #night's daughter: excerpt #ch: celena #ch: aedan #ch: aislin #ch: iliana

[lettersfromn0where]

ZFAW: Self-Love Saturday

For the last day of @zkfanworkweek!

It’s no secret that I love writing more than almost anything in existence, or that I’m somewhat absurdly passionate about my work. I’m well aware that a handful of people probably think this is annoying (how many people who have had the misfortune to be in any kind of chat with me never want to hear the name “Hina Oyama” again? Probably most of them), and I was hesitant to do this at all because I know I can be self-centered and I’m trying to work on that. But I realized that I’m not doing this for feedback or because I want people to read my work - if I were to talk about my fic like this, it would be coming from a place of excitement about sharing something I love with others, not about finding new readers. (Have I done a little too much networking of that kind? Yes. Am I proud of it? Not at all. That’s why I had to make sure that that wasn’t why I was doing this.) 

So I’m going to go for it, and give you guys the background behind a few of my favorite things I’ve written. Stories below the cut. 

Story #1: The One That Taught Me That It’s Okay to Fail As a Writer

and I'll write you a tragedy (June 2020)

I wrote this back in June, when I was first getting into AtLA - I think it was my third or fourth published Zutara fanfic. I didn’t have many friends yet; most of the ones I talked to at the time, I've since lost touch with. So my participation in the fandom was largely isolated. I’d just write things and yeet them into the void without a care in the world - that’s what I did with “And I’ll Write You a Tragedy.” I had this grand idea that it would be ~the angstiest thing ever written~ and I was SO excited to get home (I was at the beach when I got the idea) so I could work on it...

Only to find that I simply wasn’t ready for the story I was trying to tell.

Oh, I wrote it, and it was...decently well-reviewed for something that caused me so much existential angst. But it fell so short of the concept that I had for it that, the moment I hit “post,” I was so frustrated that burst into tears. (Like a kindergartner. One can never say I deserve to be called an adult.) I wanted to establish myself in this new fandom so badly that anything I perceived as substandard was a crushing failure. And it was the process of talking myself through that frustration that taught me something I’ve tried to hold close ever since: every writer writes a dud every once in a while. No one is at the top of their game 100% of the time; those who appear to be probably don’t post the duds. Should I have posted this, then? Well, the jury is out on that. I still hate it. But it deserves a spot here just for the lesson it taught me. 

Story #2: the One That Broke the Angst Ceiling 

who lives, who dies, who tells your story (July 2020)

I have no idea how this took my angst from the coltish awkwardness of “sort of sad, but not very well-done” to genuinely depressing, but it did. Maybe I should blame quarantine and all of the difficulties that brought with it, or just the additional writing experience I had gained by that time. Whatever the reason, I remember this - even though it never got very popular - as an absolute triumph for me as a writer, because this is when I FINALLY learned how to write effective angst. For *years* I had thought I was simply incapable of writing anything sad, but this showed me that I wasn’t. I’ll never understood what flipped the switch (maybe it was @hiniwalay, whose help in forming this idea was invaluable...I love and miss you so much <3), but it’s a very important part of my writing journey even so. 

Story #3: The One That Got Inexplicably Popular

Tethered (Zutara Week - written in June 2020, posted in late July 2020)

Zutara Week 2020 was sort of the point at which I established myself in this fandom and I have super fond memories of the warm reception I received at the time. It was such a positive, encouraging experience - and perhaps the one and only time that people have actually wanted to indulge my somewhat ridiculous obsession with fluff. And this was sort of the peak of my entrance into the ZK fandom. 

And I am...not sure how I feel about that. 

Soulmate AUs are obviously super popular, so I knew that “Tethered” was going to be one of my better-recieved ZKW fics if I did it even marginally well. What I did NOT expect was that, by the time of this post, it would be exactly tied with The Waiting Game for my most kudos’d work. It’s almost insane to me that that is a thing, because, while I don’t hate how “Tethered” came out, I definitely don’t feel like it deserved the hype it got. It’s...just another soulmate AU, but seeing that I was capable of writing something that people would gobble up did wonders for my confidence - and, I think, for my reputation in the fandom as well. It was definitely a mile-marker on my journey, even if I would rather it have been a different ZKW oneshot (this one was my favorite).

Story #4: The Twitter Favorite

Four Days and Three Nights (written August 2020)

I will never, ever forget the day I posted this. 

I joined a Zutara group chat on Twitter just before Zutara Week 2020 began, and I quickly became...a little bit desperate for their attention. “The Waiting Game” (much more on that later) sprung from that desperation, but this was the one that actually did something about it. Which is funny, because it was actually a complete accident! 4D3N, as it is affectionately called on Twitter, was the result of my dumb butt reading “Five,” thinking “I want to write something that depressing!”, and just...going for it. I told myself not to overthink things as I desperately banged out the 3166 words of this story in two hours (because I needed to go for a run before it got dark and didn’t start writing until 3), and that is probably the one and only time in my entire life that telling myself something like that actually worked. Writing 4D3N was just sort of this rush that I barely even had time to recognize while I was caught up in it and the result was something I genuinely felt that I could be proud of - that’s pretty rare. My Twitter friends went slightly insane, half of them wanted to stab me (in a good way), and I finally felt like I actually belonged in this fandom - like I had done something to earn a place there. [Caveat: fandom is for everyone and you never need to “earn the right” to be in one, but my brain latched onto the idea that I didn’t deserve to be creating things for a fandom that didn’t want me and would not let it go. Figures.] Lately, I’ve been struggling with this one a little bit because it’s getting a lot of comparisons to “Five” in which it never fares favorably, for obvious reasons, and it was never actually my favorite fic to begin with, but it still means a lot to me. This is the one I recommend to people who are curious about my work and probably always will be. 

Story #5: The Sleeper Favorite

Lean On (written August 2020)

I have no earthly idea why I like this one so much, but it has to be my favorite oneshot I have up. It’s hurt-comfort and dives into the implications of the Agni Kai for Zuko’s health, both physical and mental - maybe it’s the uniqueness of that premise that endeared it to me, or maybe the personal-ness...is that a word?...of the narrative. The bare-bones summary: Zuko’s health is declining a year after the Agni Kai, Katara shows up to do something about that, and what follows is a year of Pain and Heartache for both of them as they try to navigate their conflicting feelings for each other. But really, it’s a story about healing: physically, yes, but also mentally and emotionally. I certainly relate a lot to Katara in “Lean On,” as I’ve been the friend caught in the crossfire of others’ battles with their mental health many times and I wanted to try to write from both sides of that conflict. But I think I probably wrote more of myself into Zuko than I originally anticipated, as well. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health...at all...and I’ve found myself lashing out at my family far more than I should without even knowing why, isolating myself and growing thorns so that no one would come near me. I hate seeing myself like that, and I hate that I can't seem to make myself do anything about it. So really, I was hashing out my own feelings both past and present, and what I ended up with, whatever you might think of its quality, came from the heart. I also, for whatever reason, really liked my writing here, so I have a special place in my heart for “Lean On.” 

Story #6: The Fluff I Didn’t Hate

Waffleosophy (written September 2020)

Look, there's not a lot to say about this, but it’s definitely my favorite fluff that I’ve ever written. I felt like I finally managed to hit the right note with this so that it came off as sweet without being saccharine, and it feels...I don’t know, wittier than what I usually write? I write a lot of fluff but something about “Waffleosophy” made it feel more polished and coherent than most of my other fluff. This was one that, as ridiculous as its premise was, I felt like I could truly be proud of; since I’m often a bit ashamed of how much of my work is fluff (it feels like “cheating” sometimes, as if I write this way because I lack the skill for real emotional beats), that’s saying a lot. 

Story #7: the Insanely Niche AU

Once In a Lifetime (ongoing)

This one gets updated at the speed of snail, but. ZK ice dance AU. It just makes me so HAPPY. 

Story #8: The One That Actually Did What It Was Meant To Do

Hanabi (written October/November 2020)

This heading is ironic because this was originally supposed to be an angsty slow-burn about surviving on an uninhabited island. Instead, it became as unerringly Sarah S---- as any fic ever has. Oops. 

Hanabi sprung from a desire to write something incredibly soft and wholesome. Seriously. That’s it. I had just finished writing a story that got a lot more violent and dark than I had expected it to, and I wasn’t comfortable with that; I wanted to return to my roots, if you will, and write something ~soft~. I wanted to write about good people, doing good things, being good to each other, with as much tender pining as I could cram in on the side. I wanted unique worldbuilding and a relationship that had to be built rather than handed over under the guise of Soulmateism (because this was the period in which I hated The Waiting Game and everything it stood for, aka...that. It was a weird time). And I actually? Did all of that? There’s this F. Scott Fitzgerald quote about how writers have to “sell their hearts” that I think about often, and I did that here. This has as much of my heart in it as anything ever will, I think, and if I had to pick a favorite thing that I have ever written, it would be “Hanabi.” I love it a lot. 

Story #9: The One You Knew Was Coming

The Waiting Game series (written July-October 2020)

I have so many feelings about this that I can’t even really articulate them all. Where would I even start? 

There was the fact that the first installment was written in two weeks (thirteen days, 94,832 words) to try to get the attention of a Twitter chat. There was the matter of Hina Oyama, my blog’s namesake, an OC who took on an absolutely massive life of her own to the point where she was quite literally my coping mechanism over the summer and I annoy everyone I know by constantly banging on pots and pans and screaming about her. There was the way this universe spiraled outwards from its original installment and now has three generations, two sequels, and a prequel in progress (Hina’s origin story, which I am writing for a friend but will most likely never post). There were the friends I made because of this series and all of the inside jokes and headcanons we’ve developed while discussing it. There were all of the existential crises I had (over negative comments, over whether or not this career-defining series is even decent, over the moral implications of writing about people getting stabbed in the sequel...please don’t ask). There is the fact that everyone I come into contact with now knows what Haang is, and that by a close-reading of any passage about Hina or Kya, you could probably learn a lot about me. 

But all I can say, in the end, is that I don’t know if I’ve ever written something that I fell in love with so quickly as I did “The Waiting Game,” or that had as much lasting impact upon me. (It has been five months, and I’m STILL writing in this universe, still talking about it constantly.) I know my TWG obsession is a little annoying, and I know that this universe isn’t really anything special - but it’s special to me, and it always will be. Will I shut up? Abso-freaking-lutely not. Do I care if no one knows what my username means because it refers to an OC in a fic not a lot of people actually like? Not in the slightest! I won’t pretend that TWG is a perfect story, or even that it deserves to be thought of as particularly good, but I will absolutely defy anyone who tells me that I need to “get over it.” (No one has, but my brain likes to tell me that everyone is thinking it.) 

I will never be over stories that move me, especially not ones I created.

And especially not Yangchen Oyama. 

~finis~ 

#zfaw #self love saturday #oh yeah. I went OFF #man #I have so so so many feelings #zkfanworkweek #zutara fanworks appreciation week

[whumpster-fire]

Whumpster-Fire Watches His Dark Materials: S01E07

The Iorek vs. Iofur fight has no armor. Sigh...

Okay I would be inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt here that this was another “We tried it, it didn’t work” thing because animating how the armor moves on their bodies and deforms when hit to the level of detail and quality this show has seems like it could be incredibly difficult, and surely nobody would actually be stupid enough to depict a culture literally called Armored Bears taking off their armor for a ceremonial duel to determine the kingship.

But apparently no, they did this on purpose.

God damnit. You know, I should’ve expected that given the creative team’s apparent failure to understand how important daemons are to humans that they’d also fail to understand how important armor is to bears, but Jesus Christ.

Rant/analysis under the cut.

We wanted him to be as animalistic as they are, that part of their nature. They’re warriors, and you can imagine Vikings or Samoan warriors or Maori warriors. In a fight to the death, you would imagine it being man-on-man and you would have little protection and very little weapons. That’s just the way they fight and settle disputes like this. The fact that they fight without the armor, to me, means the sheer size of Iofur means more than him with the armor on. It just makes him more powerful as a king to make that choice, and for Iorek to have to obey those orders. I think it’s a very, very awesome thing to do. It shows that they’re more animal than I think most people anticipate, and the more bear we can get out of them, the better it is.

THAT IS NOT HOW PANSERBJORNE WORK. I’m sorry Joe Tandberg, I know you’re the expert on the TV show version of this character since you play, but like... this is such a bad take.

First of all, taking your armor off to fight a duel is a very human thing to do (and not universal in human culture either - I’m pretty sure there were armored duels in medieval and renaissance Europe. Panserbjorne have their animalistic aspects yes, but their relationship with their armor is Not. One. Of Them. A Panserbjorne’s armor isn’t just a tool, it’s their soul, it is a fundamental part of their identity. Like, Iorek being stripped of his armor was symbolically stripping him not just of status and rank but also of “personhood” in bear culture, a part of making him no longer a bear in the eyes of the law and to be killed on sight if he returned to Svalbard. It’s not a religious thing that a duel of such importance should be fought without armor, it’s a religious thing that it must be fought in armor, because how could the outcome of the duel be seen as respectable and legitimate if the combatants were not fighting as themselves? Panserbjorne aren’t Vikings or Samoans or Maori, and they’re not just polar bears who happen to wear armor for protection either. A bear fighting without his armor is not a true warrior.

Second of all, removing the armor took away a MASSIVE symbolic and thematic aspect of this fight. The threat to Iorek and his apparent vulnerability was portrayed just fine in the novel. Here, let me show you:

Beside her, the smiths were making the final adjustments to Iofur Raknison’s armor. He reared like a great metal tower, shining in polished steel, the smooth plates inlaid with wires of gold; his helmet enclosed the upper part of his head in a glistening carapce of silver-gray, with deep eye slits; and the underside of his body was protected by a close-fitting sark of chain mail. It was when she saw this that Lyra realized she had betrayed Iorek Byrnison, for Iorek had nothing like it. His armor protected only his back and sides. She looked at Iofur Raknison, so sleek and powerful, and felt a deep sickness in her, like guilt and fear combined.

...

Lyra looked at the two of them, so utterly different: Iofur so glossy and powerful... splendidly armored, proud and kinglike; and Iorek smaller, his armor rusty and dented.But his armor was his soul. He had made it and it fitted him. They were one. Iofur was not content with his armor.

...

Iofur’s armor was in a pitiful state by this time, the plates torn and distorted, the gold inlay torn out or smeared thickly with blood, and his helmet gone altogether. Iorek’s was in much better condition, for all its ugliness: dented, but intact...

In the setup to the fight it’s made clear that Iofur has better armor. It’s more protective, it’s in better condition, it’s meticulously checked and examined by a team of smiths, it’s more kingly, to Lyra’s human perspective. And Iorek just shows up in his armor that he made in a cave from a box of scraps, and it’s beat up from all the fights he’s been in with it and has a patina of rust and certainly doesn’t look pretty.

But then, when they actually fight, Iofur’s fancy armor falls apart, and sometimes even gets in his way as it’s damaged, because just like Iofur himself it’s all looks and frills. And this isn’t just a fight, this is a clash of ideology. As Iorek himself says: “Iron is bear-metal. Gold is not.” This fight is Iofur’s desire to be something he’s not, his imitation of humans, pitted against Iorek’s certainty in what he is, and in the importance and power of the values and traditions of his culture. The armor is just as important as the tactics (which were also thrown out by the adaptation in favor of Muh Power Of Friendship) in symbolizing this. Iorek’s armor prevails, and Iorek himself prevails, because he has not lost touch with what it means to be an Armored Bear.

But I guess they decided to just throw out all that meaning because, uhh, they wanted the bears to be more bear-ish or something. (while wussing the fuck out on showing Iorek bitch-slapping Iofur’s jaw off his helmetless head (helmetless because his armor doesn’t fucking work), tearing his throat out, and eating his heart to claim his victory).

#His Dark Materials fandom #fandom discourse #Panserbjorne #vent #rant #You're All Bear and No Armor