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shawnxstyles · 5 months

Text

the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

821 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Flight Patterns Part 2

Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings - Slight power abuse, mentions of trauma and scars. Scene jumping to ensure I got two of the dragons introduced.

A/N- We are getting a fairly calm Aerilyn in this part since they are doing everything they can to make her feel comfortable and safe, but Caged animals tend to be the most dangerous. This is also going to give us a peek at her and Rhysand and the incoming slow burn between them. The next few parts will flow smoother, but still have some jumps to ensure I get the dragons introduced quickly. Only next time might be Rhys seeing one up close. 🫠

Edited to add - my brain is not getting me the euphoria I like to have when I post, please do not be surprised if I edit this before posting part 3.. maybe I looked at it too long, maybe I'm being critical of myself, but we be here 🙃

Word Count - 4970

Part 1 Part 3

Aerilyn did not know what to think of the small being in front of her. Her first instinct was to laugh, but she held it in picking up on her less than amused body language as the male she knew from somewhere spoke to her. They'd been communicating back and forth in her first tongue for over an hour, but it was clearly something the other female struggled with. A dead language she had called it.

Now she was testing Aerilyn's ability to speak common. "Rhys said you knew letters but cannot speak to me in this language," her voice drawled out.

Inaccurate, Aerilyn thought to herself. But we can play this game for a little while. She cocked a brow, blinking in faked confusion.

The female rolled her eyes. "I told them you'd be a lost cause. Feral beasts are best left to other beasts." She blinked again, knitting her brows together. She stored the insult in her mind for later, ignoring the heat pooling in her blood to bite back.

She did know this. She had tricked the male in her head well if he thought she had less education than a child. "I assume you don't know your name then?"

"Ari," she whispered. "Name Ari."

The female nodded. "So you can understand me but not speak the language I'm speaking?" She blinked blindly again, grinning internally when silver eyes rolled in annoyance. "I will inform the High Lord." The small fae left with her arms crossed and Aerilyn sighed. She walked out the balcony, staring at the city far below her and admiring the pretty sparkling lights.

She'd only ever seen a village from dragon back as they moved from place to place in search of food and safety.

Her childhood with them and their riders had been happy. Filled with laughter and adventure. Until they made the mistake of traveling across the continent.

Rumors had reached their ears of a city that would welcome riders and their drakes. Aerilyn and her mount had been left behind to guard the mountain they currently held shelter in, and one by one 6 other winged beasts returned to her. Riderless and in mourning. She was still young at that point, barely into her adulthood, and was now tasked with learning to control 6 other mounts on top of her own.

She whistled softly 4 times, she knew they were near. And the wind shifted rotation before lightning stuck high in the clouds, revealing a large body and ever faithful wings gliding.

"I'd just throw her back in the woods," Mor stated. "She had 4 drakes, and we have no clue what they can do. Do you really think having her here is safe?"

Cassian growled, his fist closing tightly under the table. "She's my sister."

Azriel avoided his gaze, jaw slightly clenched as he stated the one fact they all knew. "She's dangerous and a liability. We can't even speak to her to tell her we mean her and them no harm."

Amren rolled her eyes. "I think she's lying about that. I think she can speak common. I think she chooses not to. Just as all riders have throughout the history of time."

Amren shifted as all eyes landed on her. "She knew I was asking her name. Her accent is thick and heavy, but she pronounced everything clearly instead of struggling through it like a truly uneducated and mute fae would."

Cassian shook his head at Amren in disbelief. "She lived in the woods, Am. There's no way-"

"She speaks a completely dead language last used by dragon riders," Amren cut him off, annoyance slipping into her tone as she stared at the general as if he had gone stupid overnight. "She is somehow alive after her wings were cut so deeply that parts of her skin were still attached. Or did you forget the condition you received them at your feet in?" Amren turned her head to the window as a flash of lightning appeared from nowhere. "She may have been alone when you found her, but she wasn't always alone."

Rhysand jumped as a loud crash of thunder shook the mountain. "It wasn't supposed to rain today," Azriel said slowly as he moved towards the window. "We need to warn people to get inside. Look at how dark the clouds are."

Amren's eyes went to the clouds, a small smirk on her face. "We're about to see one of the beasts in her arsenal. Might want to go calm your little mate, Rhysand"

Rhys shook his head. "Velaris is shielded from magic. My people and court are safe."

Mor spoke softly, a reminder to everyone in the room. "Not all drakes attack with magic, Rhys. Some can use the elements. Summoning the storm was the only magic it used, and the shield doesn't stop weather. Now, it gets to control the severity of it."

As if confirming Morrigan's warning, lightning struck Ramiel and thunder shook the ground again as rumble fell from the mountain top. The jaws of the three Illyrian males all twitched.

The sky became a show of lights as heavy rain began to pound down on the court, gathering faster than the ground and Sindra would be able to handle it. "It's going to flood the court," Mor realized slowly. "We are trapped in the valley of a mountain, Rhys. It's going to flood the court until it gets her back."

Rhys went up the stairs, rage fueling every step as Cassian kept pace with him.

Aerilyn jumped from where she stood near the balcony, watching as her true mount showed the Night Court not even a fraction of what he could do and a glimpse of the destruction he could bring. She knew he could level this little city, but had asked him not to through their bond.

Rhysand gripped her arm, turning her so quickly her head spun and pointed to the sky with his brows raised as if he expected her to answer. She cocked her head to him, blinking twice before pulling her arm from his grasp and moving towards Cassian faking fear. "What is your beast doing?" Rhysand growled at her, his eyes blazing with fury she had never seen or felt before. She didn't answer and he exploded.

"What the fuck is happening to my court?!" The demand in his voice had Aerilyn almost trembling. "What in the fuck is that thing doing?!"

She stared at him doe eyed, moving closer into the protection Cassian offered and keeping up her act. "Rhys, stop, she clearly doesn't understand you."

The High Lord looked enraged. Yanking the bond so hard Aerilyn released a small scream and fell to her knees. Cassian knelt to her immediately, craddling her head and holding her close to him. He had never felt powerless because of Rhysand, but he did now. "Call. It. Off." He growled at her. "Call your damned beast off before I kill it."

She held her chest, eyes wide as she looked between Rhys and Cassian. The High Lord's eyes softened temporarily, realizing his mate had no clue what that string was. Anger came back to him as another round of lightning stuck closer to the House of Wind.

Aerilyn knew that was a warning. A loud warning that if he hurt her again, if he shouted at her again, if he even detected fear down their sacred connect, the gates to hell would be opened, and death would follow.

Rhys went to the balcony, opening it and bracing himself as winds whipped and rain pelted him. He began to watch the sky, watching for any sign of the beast hiding in those dark clouds. A flash of light allowed him to have eyes on it, and he turned to his mate, finger pointed to where he now knew the dragon was hovering. He offered one last time, "Call of the drake, or I will blood Mist him."

Aerilyn looked between him and Cassian. Her brother's jaw was tight. "Rhysand, she doesn't understand. It is protecting her."

"And I'm protecting my fae and home," Rhysand growled to his general. "A home you also swore to protect, Cassian. Remember your place."

Cassian stood, his eyes narrowing. "Isn't my place at your side, brother?"

Rhys put his hand down, realizing the error in his sentence. "Cassian-"

"Don't bother." The illyrian male knelt back down to his sister.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't hurt him." Cassian's face fell slightly. "Gentle. Kind." Aerilyn was still playing her cards. Knowing she could not drop the faked persona until she knew one of them was going to protect her, until she knew one of them would return her. "Scared."

Cassian placed a large hand on her cheek. "You or the dragon?"

Her brows knit. "Both," Rhysand said slowly. "They're both afraid." The High Lord caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, realizing now how much he behaved like his father in this incident.

The rain lightened up at Aerilyn's command. Her mound came closer to the balcony, but still far enough away to prevent any physical attacks. Aerilyn moved to the balcony, and Rhys and Cassian both watched as her face fell into deep sadness. "Enlil," her hand went out and the dragon approached, getting close enough to her palm to allow her to touch his muzzle.

The males both immediately noted two things:

The first was that this dragon was truly a work of art. A large scaled body that appeared grey, but those scales had began to reflect the lights and surroundings, hiding him within plain sight to anyone looking. He had wings that Rhys could only describe as being similar to painted glass as gentle light passed through them. Even his ice blue eyes were beautiful, and shockingly to them both, filled with love and worship towards the female hugging him.

The second thing they noted was where Aerilyn and Enlil were touching was glowing with a faint blue light. It was as if the contact between them was a sign of magic. And to Rhysand's horror, he realized it was. He knew enough about dragon's and their riders to know this was a bond formed between their souls. His mate was this dragon's true mount.

And that meant had he misted this dragon, he would have killed her too.

The dragon could live without the rider, the rider could not live without the dragon. That bond was too fragile, too sacred, too powerful.

Rhys approached slowly, holding a hand back to Cassian. He knew drakes could understand the languages of the fae, and made an offer. "There is a cave, in the mountain," he pointed to it. "It used to be a dragon pit back when the Night Court had riders in their armies. It can comfortably fit 14 dragons."

The drake seemed to understand his offer, those crystalline eyes flicking back to his rider. "You can bring your hoards of treasures and other friends there, you will be safe there as she is here."

Rhysand dropped the scent ward he had on their mating bond, allowing the drake to sniff it out. He flew back slightly, sparing one last look towards Aerilyn and turned the rain to no more than a light Mist before flying away.

Rhys motioned for his mate to enter the room again and shut the balcony doors. He hid the hurt in his heart as Aerilyn tucked herself into Cassian's side again, using him as her shield.

A shield from him.

Rhysand's shoulders fell in defeat. "I need to know what I welcomed into my court."

Aerilyn just simply tucked further into Cassian's side, her soaked hair dripping onto the hardwood floor below her as she shivered.

Rhys nodded, closing his eyes, and walked out of the door. Amren, Azriel, and Mor all waited in the hall. "Amren, I need you to find books of the different types of drakes, preferably with pictures." The ancient being nodded and immediately left to go to work. "Azriel, how many were actually in the cave?" The shadowsinger didn't answer, his jaw set in a clenched hold. "I realize I fucked up, Azriel. I don't need you to tell me how badly. I already know."

"She has 7 total dragons in her possession. They all look different." He reported back calmly what his shadows had discovered. Azriel went to the door, knocking before entering. He greeted Cassian and Ari softly before shutting the door behind him.

Mor looked at Rhys. "You have to fix that."

The male nodded. "I will. After he calms her down and gets her to sleep."

Cassian held Aerilyn tight after he made her change into different warm clothing. She couldn't help but cuddle closer into him.

It was familiar, and she knew that. She knew his scent, his smile. She knew what he was to her, and she to him.

He placed a long kiss on her temple, a prayer going to any God that listened one more time as he wrapped a large wing around her. No words passed between the siblings, and no words needed to.

Her eyelids began to feel heavy quickly as his calloused hands began a long forgotten motion, running through her hair and scratching her scalp in all the right places.

"You're safe, sis," Cassian mumbled, falling into a light sleep of his own. "No one will ever hurt you again."

The inner circle sat at the dinner table, waiting for at least Cassian to appear.

Azriel was the last to see the siblings. He had said she was fine, just shaken up. Cassian he had not mentioned.

They heard a set of foot steps approach the room and Cassian entered silently. He took the plate from the place that had been set near Rhys to force proximity and moved it further down the table. He began taking food without permission from the High Lord and ate in silence.

Azriel began to eat as well, not wishing to push a clearly angry male to speak. Mor looked down then to Rhys, her eyes pleading with him to fix the situation.

"Cassian," Rhysand started slowly. The general grunted in response. "Is she okay?"

Cassian set his fork down. "Considering you threatened the only thing she's known as family for the past 300 years? Sure, Rhys, she's fine. She trusts us so much already." Cassian went back to eating, effectively ending any conversation before it could begin.

Rhys just looked down, pushing his own food around on his plate. He could feel she was heavily asleep, that her dreams were pleasant. "It was attacking my court, our home."

Cassian looked up at him slowly. "Because we kidnapped her from them and theirs. Because she doesn't feel safe and somehow that thing knows through the bond they share."

Amren's interest peaked, "She's bonded to one?" Rhys and Cassian both nodded. Amren just settled into her chair, silver eyes now ablaze with excitement. The ancient being sipped the liquid in her glass, a small smirk forming. "Woo her, Rhysand. That dragon will only leave if she dies, and if they were a pack, you could now have 7 damn near indestructible beasts at your whim."

Cassian pushed his plate away, standing and leaving the table.

The undeniable smell of anger was radiating off of his skin and tainting the air. Rhys felt his shoulders fall in defeat.

Cassian never left the table without finishing his meals.

He did tonight.

Aerilyn woke up to the sun shining in her room and the smell of something bitter. She wrinkled her nose as she sat up and caught sight of the short haired male who originally found her.

He was sitting in her room, looking out the balcony, a cup with steam rising from it in hand. He had a thick book resting on his lap and parchment on a table next to him.

Azriel raised his hand to her, motioning for her to come closer with a single finger.

She stood next to him, following where that finger now pointed. In a deep gentle voice he asked her, "Name?"

A solid black dragon with scales like spilled oil was sitting at the entrance of the cave put Rhys has allowed them access to. They were on shifts, watching her room perfectly from that ledge, and protecting each other. "Achlys."

Azriel nodded and held the book. "Type?"

Aerilyn went through the pages, doing her best to focus on pictures instead of reading. She finally reached the page regarding drakes of poison and pointed. Azriel pales slightly before adding the gentle giant to his started list. Under Enlil was pages to books and his power type. Now, under Achlys name was pages referring her.

He had 5 more spots set, but did not push her. He held the mug filled with the bitter black liquid up to her. "Try it."

She took the mug, fingers grazing his scarred hands and sniffed it. She took a tiny sip before looking at Azriel with a look of absolute devastation and betrayal.

Azriel couldn't help but to let out a loud laugh as he saw her eyes going wide, her bottom lip pouting out, and her nose scrunching. He took the mug from her and pulled out a separate parchment piece.

It has her name on the top along with little observations he's made regarding her. Under dislikes he added "Black Coffee," with an amused smile.

"Mean," she glared at him as he continued to laugh. Azriel faked insult and put his hand to his chest. Aerilyn couldn't help the sympathy flowing through her as she took on of his hands in hers. "Fire?" He just nodded, allowing her to study them.

Aerilyn wanted to drop the act. She wanted to ask who did this to him, where they were now, but she couldn't. She settled with kissing his palm.

Azriel moved to her closet when she was done. Picking a soft two piece outfit for her. He spoke slowly to her, trying to ensure she understood. "Change and then food."

Her stomach made a noise of agreement and he laughed again, leaving the room to allow her to change from the t-shirt Cassian had been wearing yesterday. The clothing left little to the imagination. It was a deep plum color, but the fabric was sheer. The top dipped low in the front and ended before her navel, the long sleeves were sheer. The matching pants were also fairly sheer after the modesty paneling that would prevent her from being exposed.

Azriel entered the room as if knowing she was changed and immediately took her hand, pulling her into the hallway.

Aerilyn's mouth began to water as they went down the stairs, and her stomach made an when louder noise that had the male pausing, sending her a small look of sympathy, before continuing.

The house was stunning. Lavish furniture, golden balcony and lanterns. It was the most expensive place she had ever been, granted most of her days were spent in a cave surrounded by beasts and their individual hoards.

Azriel pulled her into a dinning room where the inner circle all sat waiting for him. "Brought a friend to breakfast," he said simply as they all stared in shock. He pulled a chair out for her, sitting her down across from Cassian before moving to sit next to her.

He began to pile food onto a plate, occasionally putting something under her nose to smell and only adding it if she nodded. Eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and countless fruits now sat on her plate.

He gave her the option of water and some dark purple color liquid that smelled like berries.

Cassian offered her a small smile. "No coffee?"

Azriel didn't freely give them the smiles he had been handing her. "Tried that. She looked at me like I just stolen everything warm and wonderful in her world."

A beautiful blonde laughed lightly. "Well you either drink coffee one or two ways, Azriel. Black or loaded with caramel and sugar. Balance is needed, Az!"

The room fell into hushed silence as the male who stood on the other end of the string Aerilyn had been studying entered.

He stared at her for a brief moment, his lips almost giving into a twitch and his eyes softening. He continued his walk to the head of the table and sat. "Good morning." A chorus of "Mornings" welcomed him as he began to take food. He looked directly at Aerilyn, "Man erin"

"Man Erin," she whispered back.

"Eat." Rhysand said to everyone. "We have a long day ahead of us."

Rhys and Aerilyn kept glancing at each other as they ate. One looking away when the other would notice them. She felt herself slightly flushing under his gaze, feelings she'd never had beginning to mix with the fear she felt towards him.

He was beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. Dark hair, a chiseled face, tanned skin. His eyes felt like starlight.

She wanted to map those eyes, log them like the ancient kings, watching them for hours until they were all they knew.

Rhys also felt emotions mixing with what he knew what physical attraction. The twins had done well cleaning her and allowing her features to be seen. Long dark hair fell into waves down to the curve of her ass that Rhysand wanted to sink his teeth into. Her high cheekbones and delicate jawline framed lush blush lips and eyes like melted chocolate.

She would be easy to physically fall in love with, and if he could woo her, if he could drop his pride long enough to open vulnerability between the two of them, maybe it would be easy for him to emotionally fall for her as well.

Cassian and Azriel led Aerilyn out of the House of Wind to an open area filled with sparing dummies. Cassian was radiating, he had been since the two shadow wraiths changed her into the training leathers she saw Illyrian warriors wearing when she'd spy on the camps. He had been since he inspected her perfected braided hair that was tucked and twisted to keep it out of her face and prevent it from being a target.

He had been since he saw his sister, exactly as she should have been.

Azriel moved away from them, setting something else up and then sat and waited for Rhysand. She knew he was joining them. Cassian pulled her to a table filled with battle maps and empty parchment as if it was his favorite personal space and he began to write.

Can you read? His handwriting was sharp almost as if he moved his hands like he was dicing an enemy with a knife instead of handling a pen.

"Yes," Aerilyn said.

Cassian rose a brow. You know what yes and no means?

"Yes."

He nodded a small smirk forming. Do you know how to fight?

Aerilyn looked at him, her own dark brows raising as Rhys and Azriel made their way over. She took the pen from Cassian, shocking the three of them. I fly dragons. I had to learn to fight.

Rhys sucked in a breath. "You can read and write." She nodded at him. "You just can't speak our language."

She wrote again, lying through her teeth still for reasons she was forgetting as today's kindness had become an almost comfort, all of them studying her like hawks that found prey. Never made it that far. Letters in your language have too many sounds. And there's weird bull shit rules. Like "to, two, and too." Who uses 3 words that's letters should all sound the same creating the same word 3 times but for some reason they all evidently mean something else?

Azriel closed his eyes, hiding a laugh with a cough and cleared his throat. "Yup. Definitely Cassian's sister. Makes what you two are doing next possibly easier, though."

Rhysand picked at his leathers, trying to remain indifferent despite the joy flooding both him and Aerilyn. He went into her mind again, finding one pathway that wasn't a mess of trauma and mistrust. He began following it to see if he could figure out what all Aerilyn knew. Her thoughts were in several languages with an occasional one in common tongue. Ancient Ruskian, the Old tongue, the language of the long lost elves, and several others.

A slow realization hit him and he looked at his brothers immediately expressing it to them in their minds. "You were not alone in those woods, were you?"

Aerilyn kept her eyes locked on the parchment, shaking her head. Can we just get the fighting over with? I don't want to talk about that.

Cassian almost began to bounce, beaming with excitement and joy. "After we warm and run, sunshine," he ruffled her hair as her face dropped completely.

No one said running would be involved. Aerilyn immediately turned towards the door, only to be stopped by Cassian quickly ripping her back and turning her to throw her over his shoulder. "No way, little one. You are not getting out of this, Aerilyn."

Aerilyn looked at Rhys, eyes pleading. "Please?" Her voice reminded him of red aged wine. Sultry, sweet, capable of convincing him to spend all of his money.

He wanted to give into her, to give into those big chocolate brown eyes begging him to stop this from happening, but they needed a baseline or her knowledge in everything to keep her safe, even if that safety one day was no longer with him.

He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, darling. It is for your best interest."

Aerilyn collapsed 30 minutes later onto the training mat. They were trying to kill her. Rhysand sat next to her, lightly laughing as he handed her water.

Aerilyn hated cardio. She had always hated cardio. She did not even understand why cardio was a thing. She took the water, taking a drink before rolling to her stomach and laying in defeat.

Rhys poked her side, "I think she is done, Cassian." He could feel it through the bond, read it in her body language. He admired the pieces of her hair that had fallen from the braids. He watched her chest rising and falling. She had taken off the longer sleeved training shirt a while ago, exposing her toned arms and back in the tanktop. Despite the tanned skin, a peek of white was showing. A peek of a scar was showing.

She stiffened as he moved the shirt more and he blanched.

No care had been taken when her wings were removed. Deep thick scarred skin sat where her wing should have been. Cassian froze when he saw them as well, the night that her small wings where thrown to his feet immediately coming to the forefront of his mind.

Aerilyn moved away, standing with her back to the three of them, her posture began caving in on itself as her mind screamed insecurities at her.

She knew of beauty standards. She knew scars were not considered beautiful, and despite not being raised in normal society, she wanted to be beautiful. She wanted to be seen as beautiful.

She backed away as tears began to fall. "It's okay," Rhys moved to her, speaking softly. "It's okay, Ari."

She shook her head before breaking into a run into the house. Shadows followed her as Cassian stopped Rhys from following. "Give her a second," the general kept repeating.

But how was he supposed to give her a second? How was Rhys supposed to let his mate lock herself in her room and be alone?

How was he supposed to leave her alone when she didn't believe she was beautiful?

A loud roar broke them all from their trance and their heads snapped to the opening near the mountain. Azriel began to back away, panic and fear setting into him as a large red and gold bodied drake flew towards Aerilyn's balcony.

They didn't need her to tell them what kind of beast that was nor the destruction it could bring.

They all already knew, and this confirmed a deep set fear they had.

Aerilyn had access to a fire Drake.

Rhysand put himself between Azriel and where the dragon flew.

"No one speaks a word of this. Knowledge that there is a fire Drake does not leave our boarders. I do not want to deal with Beron anytime soon. It's bad enough we already have to hide the Storm Drake from Tamlin."

Cassian released a shaking breath. "What happens if this all comes out, Rhysand?"

The High Lord shook his head, his mind reeling. "You will lose your sister, I will lose my mate, and those poor beasts that simply want to live and protect her will be hunted or used until their deaths. We keep it quiet to keep them safe."

The three brothers nodded as the flame dragon began to fly back to the cave, something sparkling in its claws.

Azriel, despite his fear, let out a small laugh. "It took a lantern."

The statement broke the tension that had been building between the three males since her arrival. Cassian's loud booming laughter lead to Rhysand's own deep chuckles, and then Azriel's own rang out joining them.

Aerilyn appeared seconds later, a guilty look on her teary face. Her hands clasped in front of her, and she rocked back and forth. Her small motions made their laughter increase and soon her own bell-like giggles started.

She realized slowly, watching the three of them laugh and feeling Rhysand's unadulterated love for the two other males, and the sheer happiness he felt, that she could get used to this. She walked to Azriel, the book on drakes and his sheet in hand to the table and wrote a few simple words. "Hestia. Fire Drake. Likes gems and gold."

Translation - Man Erin - "Good morning"

Tag list: @kemillyfreitas @jesssicapaniagua @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @ladybirdbeetle7 @amygdtjhddzvb

**Tumblr was being odd and would not allow me to actually tag a few people. I'm looking into it! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know 💜

#acotar #rhys acotar #flightpatterns #rhysand acotar #rhys x oc #rhysand x oc #rhys fic #rhysand fic #acotar x oc

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liloinkoink · 4 months

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i got an ask that had like 10 different lamplight questions in it (thank you!) and i cannot answer the whole thing rn (maybe later tonight!) but this one question, or half of one, is one i think i can answer pretty easily!

over a year ago i wrote a bunch of scenes for, uh... we'll call it an offshoot of lamplight. a few of you probs know what it is, but for those that dont, part of the plot involved Martyn and Ren being separated via some kinda magic bullshit for an extended period of time without knowing why or where the other is. i never posted any of it bc it was a collaborative AU/offshoot and makes... very little sense out of context, but id been wanting to take a few of the scenes i wrote for it and make them into an actual canon-compliant (but probs non-canon) lamplight fic, considering how it would be fun in light of the absence of Ren in two seasons of the life series

i never did do that, due to how much stuff id have to write for the setup and in between, however somewhat recently i did edit a few of the scenes i DID write to remove parts that were complete nonsense outside of the context of the offshoot. so, just to answer part of your question about scenes written and unposted, i'll attach screenshots here

all of these images are individual scenes and dont necessarily flow into each other, tho the last three are from pretty close together in the oneshot theyre from. dont worry about who the other character in these is i removed that guy's name bc itd be confusing if i didnt but dont worry about it

one of these days id like to make these into an actual fic, but for now, take uhh. Martyn gay pining moments. i guess.

#oink asks #anonymous #even tho its only part of an ask #lamplight au #i just answered this bit bc i could do it in under 5min ill answer the rest later tonight or tomorrow #lew writes

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year

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Reflecting on my work in 2022

As this official Hell Of A Year™ draws to a close, I guess it is appropriate to both reflect on what I've been doing this year, as well as do a bit of plugging for work which I am proud of.

So here's a list of some of the videos I made this year, along with some thoughts on their creation and how I feel about them, some self-criticism, some behind-the-scenes, and a little self-congratulation where it is appropriate.

I struggle somewhat with memory and a clear sense of time - to me, time is more of a continuous stream than a series of delineated moments. This is often frustrating - I get lost in it, and when I look back on a list of my work and activities, it is less an experience of "oh yeah, ha ha, that happened" and more of a "wait what do you mean that happened then? And before that other thing? But after that one? What the hell?"

Worst case scenario, it can be kinda distressing, honestly. It feels out of control, anxiety inducing, like I don't have a handle on my life.

... which is an absolutely fantastic tone to strike for a New Year's list of my favourite videos. 2023, woo!

The Boss Designs of Bloodborne Finale (February)

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It took me nearly three months after the penultimate episode of the series to finally put this video out. My The Boss Designs Of series is some of the best work I've ever created, at least I think so. It's certainly some of the most creatively fulfilling work I do, and some of the most challenging too.

I try to walk a line between providing a fresh perspective on the games I've played for the series, but not getting contrarian or off-the-wall just for the sake of it. With Bloodborne, I do think I managed some really good critical contributions to the readings of the game, like my reading of the Blood-starved Beast as a self-sacrificing martyr for the beast community of Old Yharnam, which was apparently quite novel, or my crackpot Parasite Theory of Bloodborne's madness.

And I do think I've gotten better and better at editing gameplay footage too, I think I've managed to learn a good balance between joke-edits and continuity and story editing. I always kinda fret on the one hand that the gameplay footage and my live commentary is too boring to stand on its own, and on the other hand that editing in too many jokes and gags would just be obnoxious and tedious to sit through.

The thing Bloodborne nails more than any other horror game I've seen is the sensation of the nightmare. And not just in its visuals or its monster designs or the surface storytelling, but in the push and pull between extremely specific imagery and story beats and complete ambiguity the moment you scratch at the surface. Bloodborne is on the one hand a fairly obvious story about the abuses of organized religion and unethical science, but then underneath that there's also this deep obsession with the violence done to women's bodies specifically, and how that violence spills out and caustically eats into the humanity of everyone who is complicit in it.

And then underneath that there's an exploration of birth trauma, where the Great Ones are parental figures as incomprehensible to the player as parents are to a newborn child, pushing you here and pulling you there and inflicting incomprehensible violations of your bodily autonomy out of apparent sympathy.

And underneath all of that... it's also about how cool it would be to transform into a werewolf, actually. The themes of self-creation and transformation and claiming monsterhood as self-empowerment are incredibly queer and especially apt for trans readings.

It all flows together in this soup of imagery and meaning that I cannot crystalize into a unifying Theory of Bloodborne, no definitive reading, no comprehensive hot take. Which is frustrating when you're trying to create a video essay, but infinitely compelling when trying to think about it.

I don't know that I managed to capture all of that in the The Boss Designs of Bloodborne finale, but I do know that I tried to, and I'm proud of that.

Melina, the Maiden - Boss Designs of Elden Ring #1 (March)

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Staying with The Boss Designs of, here's a video about which my feelings have become decidedly mixed. Not because of anything that is in the episode, mind you, but out of a certain disempowered bitterness I've developed about Elden Ring over the course of the year.

I cannot overstate how excited I was for Elden Ring, and how desperately I enjoyed finally getting to play it back in March. It's a brilliant game, an incredibly immersive world, and one which I badly want to return to.

... and then I didn't get to play the game for nine months. It was partly my own mistake - I tried recording an absolute ton of footage for episodes early, playing as much of the game as I could while it was still fresh, hoping to put out a lot of episodes of the series early while the game was fresh and Relevant In The Algorithm™, and also just out of sheer excitement. In so doing, though, I ended up shooting myself in the foot, because as I began to edit episodes together I also found myself feeling more and more distant from the experience of playing.

The pile of footage in front of me, begging to be converted into episodes, became a roadblock of work looming over me, a source of guilt and stress and frustration, that put extra stress on my mind every time I tried to make any other video and which stood between me and getting to play more of the game I have anticipated more than any other for years.

In 2023, I will get back to Elden Ring, I swear to god I will, but in the meantime I am quite happy with how the three episodes I've made of this series so far have turned out.

Also, the new intro song I commissioned from @trewatsonmusic absolutely slaps.

What's the deal with Zeri and Neon (June)

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My ambition for the What's the Deal videos has always been to expand them beyond League of Legends (and I have done videos on characters from other things), but being a YouTuber is also my job, and League of Legends is the moneymaking subject on my channel, at least for now.

Not that I resent that. For all that League deserves the criticism it gets, I still insist that it has one of the greatest casts of characters in modern gaming, underserved and ignored though most of them are by Riot Games. There's so much to talk about once you get even a little bit under the surface, and I do feel like I've been doing a better and better job at doing that in the What's the Deal videos over 2022. Zeri, for example, is a fantastic addition to the class warfare dynamics of Piltover and Zaun, especially in her conflict with Renata Glasc and the themes that could be explored through that conflict. And it's not lost of me the extent to which she was a direct response to the xenophobic attacks on Asian-Americans that have surged out of American politics in recent years, either. There is value to proclaiming that someone like Zeri belongs in the worlds of big pop culture institutions like League of Legends, even if (as always) it is the workers at Riot Games making that proclamation, and Riot Games Inc. allowing it because it serves their commercial goals.

I brought in Nickyboi for an assist on this one as well, which is something I want to do more. I want to do more collaboration. First of all because it's nice to offload work to someone else, but also because this job is fundamentally kind of lonely. I'm just a guy in his office making videos 99% of the time, and collaborating with a fellow creator feels like being part of a creative community in a way that solo work and shitposting at each other on Twitter simply doesn't.

And I am proud of the little fanfiction snippets I've started writing in the The Future segments. One of the points of the What's the Deal videos is to communicate to an audience why I'm excited about a character, why I feel like they're worth giving a shit about, and I think those fanfiction segments have done a better job at getting that across than almost all of my character design and animation chatter. Plus, it's nice to flex a bit of creative muscle in that way now and then.

Speaking of which, I still need to write that happier ending for Kai'sa and Taliyah, don't I? I have A Plan™ for that, it's just about finding the time to make it real...

The 15 Most Beautiful Splash Arts in League of Legends (September)

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This one is easily the biggest surprise of the year for me. In the latter half of 2022, I took quite a lot of sponsorships - first of all because they were offered (good lord there was a rush of them in August!), but also because I really wanted to save up and pay down debts.

One of the consequences of that was the extreme delay of Elden Ring, but another was that all of a sudden I had to get content out on a very set schedule. Most of my work is done on the steam of Whatever Catches My Creative Attention At The Time, but with a deadline hanging over my head, suddenly I had to find video ideas whether they presented themselves naturally or not.

I feared that a list-video would be a turn-off for my audience, I feared that it would be seen as shallow and tacky, like a 2010s Buzzfeed listicle. I feared that people just wouldn't be interested in the kind of art analysis I like to do, or would find it pretentious to seek meaning in what is - let's be real - commercial artwork meant to promote game cosmetics.

The benefit of a sponsorship is that the video has already made a profit, whether it does well or not, and I thought that in making this video, I was being self-indulgent and "ignoring" the desires of my audience.

Instead, it's one of the best performing videos ever on my channel, and people have cited it as a favorite among my videos quite a number of times.

Which was really... encouraging, honestly. I didn't expect it, but this video really did give me a confidence boost that the things I care about and find interesting do have an audience, even extra-nerdy rambling about League of Legends cosmetics.

Building a Better Soraka (September)

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Building a Better is a series title I sometimes regret a little bit, because no matter how much I try to explain in the videos themselves that there is no such thing as a perfect character design and that my revisions and ideas are not meant to be definitive in any way, I always get comments from people accusing me of declaring myself The God of Character Design and sitting in holy judgment over the work I'm critiquing.

To an extent, I guess that's unavoidable on the internet, but... maybe the series title was a bad gamble on that front.

I do stand by, though, that my designs have a reasonable argument that they are improvements over the originals. Arguments that can be interrogated and criticized, but valid, reasonaed arguments, not mere polemics.

Building a Better Soraka was an experiment in creating the series, as instead of working with a single artist to iterate on design improvements, I ended up commissioning more than a half dozen people for artwork and using different renditions to make my argument. It did hurt the coherency of the video a little, I feel, but it did open me up to a much more flexible way to produce videos like it in the future, which I'm happy with.

Plus, I really do like what I came up with here, and I adore the ways that @sabtherobot, @sinizade and @lekyrin executed my ideas and brought their own visions of the character. Soraka is a character who deserves a lot better than the basic design she's stuck with, and whose story can do so much more visually than Riot is willing to allow it to do.

"Not Without You" - the story of Nasus and Renekton (November)

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Of all the writing I did this year, this is by far what I am most proud of.

The video itself did not perform very well, nor did I expect it to, but the reactions I saw from the audience on this piece... yeah. That filled a very hungry part of my heart, I'm not gonna lie.

Writing a novel is a life ambition for me, as it is for many people. Actually writing it is a lot more elusive, though, in part because I struggle to feel confidence that my writing would ever hold up to the scrutiny of an audience. I struggle to feel that I would ever be able to connect emotionally with people, that I would be able to make what I feel sensible through writing.

This story proved that I can. Not to a big audience, perhaps, and I certainly don't have any delusions of genius or grandeur. I do not ever expect to be a famous or fêted writer, nor an important one. But... I do feel like with this story, I proved that I can at least be a competent one, which is frankly all I want.

And Nasus and Renekton were grateful subjects, too. Their story is naturally deeply emotional, albeit strangled by Riot's chronic indifference towards their most compelling narratives, and a lot of what I ended up exploring in there did come from a very genuine place in myself. It was nice to touch that part of my soul, and make something out of it, even if it's only silly fanfiction for a silly video game.

I am cautiously optimistic about 2023

Looking back over the videos I made this year, while I have a lot of work that I am proud of, I also see a lot of videos that I think I made less out of a desire to make them and more out of a fear of not making them. Videos that I made because I felt like the audience expected it, because the algorithm demanded it, because rent is always coming due and I am petrified of ever being broke again.

This is normal and natural, it is to some extent just the nature of the creative process under a capitalist market system where your work must always have some sort of price tag. But... I don't want to keep doing it. If I have an ambition for 2023, it is to make more of the videos I want to make, more videos that I only I can make. To give myself a little bit of a break and ease up on the self-recrimination and stress.

I have so many projects I want to get to, and being in my 30s I am becoming more and more conscious that while I (hopefully) have something like twice my current lifetime left to create the things I want, time is a finite resource, and spending it trying to please a website algorithm probably won't do me that much good in the end.

Anyway, some other things I did which I am quite proud of:

Played through God of War: Ragnarök while telling stories about the mythology of my childhood.

Ran around the world of Eorzea, accompanied by some of the funniest, silliest and most generous FFXIV players a man could dream of.

Finished a Pokémon HeartGold Nuzlocke with possibly the most nerve-wracking finish I have ever had to a Pokémon game

Reviewed every single Gen 1 Pokémon

Finished Great Ace Attorney Chronicles 1, probably the let's play with the most voice acting I have ever done. Some of it is even good!

If you've read this far, thank you so much for your time, your attention, your interest and your indulgence. Your 2023 be a good year, and may the tides of history wash gently over us all.

#tbskyen #bloodborne #from software #fromsoft #elden ring #Youtube #league of legends #bel'veth #belveth #zeri league of legends #zeri lol #neon valorant #nasus #renekton #shurima #soraka

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writingsofhubris · 26 days

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4, 7, 17, 18? I spend too much time deciding on a font

Thank you so very much for the ask!!

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

Oh my god so first idea I've been meaning to do was very shortly after I got the Murder on Eridanos DLC. There is a line that Max says, or a line that's said next to max about the Captain being the inspector instead of Captain for a bit, right? Well, I found this reddit thread a while ago and I cannot for the life of me find it again, that connected a lot of Max's actions to alcoholism (The OSI vial in his room, when he's in the penthouse one of his idle animations is drinking from a flask, him in the last hope with Parvati, etc).

Well, I have a fic that's started, and it brings together Max being drunk, an offhand line from his about sweets being forbidden, as well as some like... title play with the Captain.

7. your preferred writing fonts

If I'm working on one shots, I usually stick with Arial at 11 pt(The standard google drive settings), but if I'm working on something with some real length and depth (such as Cabinet Man or Portrait of A Lady) I'll usually write my first drafts in Courier new at like 5 pt. I find it's easier to write a stream of consciousness if I can't seen the words super clearly.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Talking very generally, most of my fics start with a one page document where I kind of shot gun blast my brain storm. A small scene is created first, only to build from there.

If It's a multichapter, I do make a bulletpoint list, and a plot chart dependign on how I want the action to flow. During this process, if a chapter decides that it wants to be written, I'll usually just take a moment from the plotting to draft out the thoughts. if it doesn't make it into the final cut, usually I'll keep some dialogue or it was needed to flesh out a problem that was going to arise in the plotting section.

I'll jump around the plot points I detailed, writing 500-1000 word chapters as I see fit. Then, i'll flesh out those chapter discriptions into real chapters, reading the bridges between chapters to see if anything's missing. At that point, I like to set the fic aside for a couple weeks and work on other writings to let it stew and settle.

Once I get to editing, that's when i bump the font size up to 11 and go to town with reordering sentences, working on tense of sentences, swapping scenes and chapters around, and whatever else I need to do to make the story flow with as minimal plot points missing as I can.

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

I have exactly one line, and it was from a fic with Maxim Horvath from a couple years ago.

"The smell of fear coming from you…. Addictive." The voice curled around the room, tightened around columns and betwixt cobwebs.

#ask #chromiumhater #and thank you for reading way down we go <3 #about me

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sunsafewriting · 1 year

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Hey :). I was hoping that maybe you would have some nuggets of wisdom regarding story pacing and plot. Everything you published on ao3 is so well paced and worded in such a way that the reader can vividly picture every scene. Sooo.. question: how do you plan out the plot of a story? And when you don't necessarily have a plot, how do you make sure that the scenes you want to write are well-connected/paced within the bigger narrative?

Anyways, I hope you have a great day. And answer or not, I will keep enjoying your work just the same.

hey mate! thanks for thinking of me but you have actually come to a terrible place for pacing advice bc that is definitely the part of writing that i struggle with most lol . but i shall tell you how I cope and hopefully some of that helps you (?)

basically I cannot plan to save my life. fic or original writing --- if I set out to outline, I come up with bad ideas and stress myself out of even starting. all the stories I plan are MUCH worse than the ones I don't. for some writers planning works great and if that's you that's awesome!!! but I am doomed to walk another path

what I do instead of planning a story is think about what I (me, personally, bc I write fic from a place of indulgence) WANT out of it. like, what's the stuff I wanna see? to me, the essential aspect of pacing is making that stuff feel important and worth it and earned. it has to have emotional weight or it won't be what I'm after .

that's also how I try to make scenes are connected; they're all focused around a general Vibe or Feeling I want to construct.

for example, in Do A Flip, what I wanted was all of them getting to become a family. and so I worked backwards from that --- what are the steps within steps within steps that lead them there? what little aspects can we put together to create that kind of image?

for pacing it's also handy sometimes to ask what the best bit about NOT being where you're aiming for yet is. like, what is worth lingering on and enjoying that isn't the end goal? what fun thing can you only have at THIS moment of the story, rather than later? it makes each part more fun to write .

I started with a much shorter version of the fic (14k) where I wrote a shoddy draft of the whole thing from Diego's pov, and then I went back and added a ton more pieces.

that's also something I use to help myself out (and because personally I love to write this way) --- I write in pieces.

this improves my pacing, because then I'm not having to constantly consider the whole structure. instead, I'm thinking about what the point of an individual fragment is --- what am I showing in this scene, and what does it mean? often it's just something small (like I want to show that Beatrice is comfortable with Ava holding her hand, or that Lilith tries to be friendly to Diego) but I function much better with a hundred bite sized pieces than a massive whole.

in these piece-style stories, I rely on the reader drawing connections between different parts and inferring rather than a smooth flow. it's just something I enjoy as a narrative form --- I like gaps and spaces where you figure bits out yourself.

I also rearrange a ton. scenes get cut and pasted to be in a new spot all the time bc I realise as I go that they could be tweaked and fit better somewhere else. when I'm writing, I also often just leave a break and write SCENE, and then jump on to the next one --- like I don't know how I'm going to fill it in yet, but I know I need something to separate out two more similar bits, or a different POV, or to slow down before X Event happens. half the time I have no idea where a chapter is going until the first version is almost done.

the other thing about pacing for me is that devastatingly I rely heavily on rewriting, editing, and cutting beloved scenes that don't super gel. chapters take SO long to come out bc I rewrite them 2-4 times. a lot of better (and less highly strung) writers don't need to do that much so please don't feel like it's necessary but it's definitely necessary for me bc without it my work would be a total shambles lmao. I also find the promise of rewriting means I'm less likely to freeze up or stare at a blank page because I will go back and improve/tidy up later.

I also think paying attention when you feel pretty meh about something is helpful for pacing. for example, I wrote a 6k version of chapter 3 of Favourable Conditions where a lot more happened, but I didn't like it. I got my girlfriend to read it and she said "the whole first part feels like you're racing to get to the second part, and then it all settles down". and she was totally right --- I had a scene I was excited to get to so I gunned it, but the overall feeling of the chapter suffered as a result. I split the chapter in half and then rewrote the whole first half as a chapter in its own right, and decided to focus on what fun stuff I could do there, rather than just skipping through to get to the rest. I ended up adding scenes that were the ones people in the comments liked most. I also ultimately decided to change the next few plot beats afterwards, based on how that went.

I would also say that generally speaking, not a lot happens in my stories. like, I go for smaller stakes and smaller actions that slowly add up --- mostly bc I'm writing very chilled out stuff. but if you're trying to build a character to the point of doing something drastic, it's a different ballgame to escalating them to some minor change. both are super doable, you've just got to keep in mind what you're aiming for. I like minor stakes because I enjoy trying to make small things like washing dishes or going to the park matter. it's also just the vibe of where I'm at right now --- previously I've written things that were a LOT more dramatic.

if you're really struggling, I would also suggest starting with writing something short. your blog is blank so I couldn't tell what kind of writing you might be interested in, but it's much easier to tweak and change and judge these things if you're working in a smaller area --- like a 2-4k oneshot --- than if you sit down to write 80k. I literally never sit down to write 80k of fic I just accidentally end up doing it lmao.

I hope some of that is vaguely useful? I don't have a lot of wisdom to dispense bc as you can see most of my process is crutches for getting around having no natural sense of pacing. if you have any more specific questions about pacing a particular scene or idea I might be able to help more?

but good luck! 💛

#thanks for the ask!#hopefully some of this helps #hit me up if you have any other questions and i will do my best :D but yeah i struggle a bit with the broader questions

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orlafilmblog · 1 month

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Some extra thoughts...

I have some random extra details I would like to talk about that aren’t worth a blog post each, so here are some fun little details that I have been thinking about!

INT vs EXT

An interesting aspect of the script and the location was the contrast between the vast beautiful expanse of the outdoors and the cramped closeness of the caravan. One of the main reasons for suggesting to Katie that we set the film on a group holiday was because of this ‘trapped together’ sense that is created when you are away with your friends, and I really want to lean into this. There should be a distinct contrast between this feeling of freedom and openness and this crushing close proximity. This also comes into play with the confrontation scene being set in the woods.

The best way to describe this in terms of scenes is that as the night grows slightly darker in tone, and then after the assault happens, we move from exterior to interior locations, trapping Phoebe. We then move to the forest for the confrontation scene. This resembles Phoebe’s attempt to escape back to the freedom from before, however she cannot do this until she has faced Harry and let her hurt be known to him. She then has to face Sara inside the caravan once more before she can reach the true freedom of the loch, where we return to wider shots and vast spaces.

Shifting from Memory to Reality

Something I want to explore in Saint Catherines is how to effectively shift quite drastically in tone, whilst keeping a consistent style. I see the film in two halves, pre-assault and post-assault. Pre-assault, the film should have a memory-like feel to it, specifically Scene 2 and 3. There should be an almost dream-like quality to the free-flowing nature of these scenes. They should not be linear, and should just be montages of individual moments, in the same wat one remembers fond holiday memories. The colours should be warmer and more saturated, and the sounds should follow the edit in their free-flowing nature and fast paced fullness.

The shift in tone should he felt at first between Scene 3 and 4, but only slightly, and should be felt strongly between 4 and 5. Scene 4 is when the film follows a more linear pattern again, and lighting should return to a less saturated ‘normal’, and the sound should level out and calm down, focusing more on specifics. Scene 5 will complete the tonal shift by being just one shot of an isolated Phoebe, surrounded by silence and darkness. This move over these few scenes from fast paced energy and fun to a single quiet shot should hopefully communicate to the audience where the film is going from this point on.

To keep a consistent style, I plan on ensuring that the film still has a naturalistic feel to it, primarily through having every shot handheld. Through the cinematography remaining consistent, it allows for a drastic shift in tone without losing the primary style of the film.

Also, the help me visualise this idea of memory, I looked through my own photos of fun times with my friends to create a sort of 'vibes folder'. It was more of just a fun way to wast time but oh well!

360-Degree Set

I was listening to an interview with Mia McKenna Bruce talking about her experiences filming How to Have Sex (our fave inspiration film) and she mentioned a concept I hadn’t really heard of before: a 360-degree set. She explained that a lot of the rooms and spaces the girls were in were fully dressed sets, with props and things to interact with hidden in cupboards and placed all over the set. This meant during takes, the actors could interact with any part of the room that felt natural. There was mascara wands in the drawers, empty noodle pots in the sink. I loved this idea, and thought it would be great to try and incorporate into Saint Catherines to aid the actors with their performances. Lucky for us, the caravan we are filming in is already full of stuff for us to use, it is a natural 360-degree set!

( the 360-degree set in use)

#film project

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heleentje · 2 years

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💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

(Sending on = optional.)

Oooh, it’s going to be really predictable if I talk about Moonlight, but I’m still going to talk about Moonlight. I cannot properly put into words how happy I am with the way it turned out (but let’s try anyway).

(Cut for spoilers and, in true Moonlight fashion, also length)

I’ve told this story here and there, but Moonlight originally came from three things: my refusal to accept the Champions’ deaths, my general melancholy upon defeating Ganon and leaving behind the freedom of botw’s Hyrule, and my amusement when the game resets to your last save upon beating the story.

That last part got me thinking about how terrifying it would be for Link to wake up after beating the Calamity and finding himself having to face it again. Originally Moonlight was just a few drabbles in my notebook (the scene in chapter 5 where Link seeks out Revali was actually a later reworking of one of the very first scenes I wrote for it). The story was on the backburner for several months, but all of a sudden I decided I wanted to write it anyway.

The idea that Zelda was also caught in the loops was an early one, but it was not part of the original outline. That little tidbit only came about when I’d already picked the title for the story, and so the whole song the title came from (Shalott, by Emilie Autumn) suddenly became weirdly prophetic (the full line that the title is part of is And there’s moonlight every single night/ as I’m locked in these towers).

Speaking of titles, the chapter titles are almost all from Vienna Teng songs, and picking them out was often a lot of fun! Thematically, I’d say the most important songs were Level Up and Enough To Go By. Enough To Go By provided the title for chapters 8 (If my love could keep you alive), 11 (praying you aren’t out of range), and also Ginneke’s This flooded sky, three parts of the overall story that are deeply connected when it comes to emotional beats. Chapter 11 is the logical consequence of the events that transpired in chapter 8, and this flooded sky of course takes place during chapter 11.

(If my love could keep you alive is also my proudest title achievement. It applies to just about every character in that chapter.)

Level Up, in turn, lent its lyrics to the final chapter (Day number one in the rest of forever, because it could never be anything else), but also chapter 5 (Dynamite the dam on the flow). Going back earlier, it was also the title inspiration for another fic of mine, Your own heart that matters. YOHTM was a large part of the foundation of that chapter, so it seemed only fitting.

It’s no secret that Moonlight got extremely out of hand, I’ve joked about it often enough. My original idea for the story truly was only 30k (final word count: > 170k). When my first chapter came in at 7k, I was still foolishly hopeful. The first chapter needed to do a lot of setup! Surely the next chapters would be shorter!

I think I was disabused of that notion partway through chapter 2.

But for all that it got out of hand, I am still very happy that it did. The intended cast was originally a lot smaller: Link and Zelda, with Revali having a marginally bigger role than the other Champions, and everyone who wasn’t one of those six only appearing towards the final chapter.

Fortunately for me and for the story, the characters did not agree with that.

And I am extremely happy that I got to give not only Link and Zelda, but also the Champions and even the successor Champions something like a distinct character arc. The most difficult characters in that regard were probably Daruk, Urbosa and Teba, because they generally have their shit together, so it’s not like they need any deep character conflict or development. But we adopted the adage of ‘stable, not static’ for them. They don’t need to change who they are as people, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have their own worries and concerns, and make decisions based on that.

(I think, in the end, Harth got a little more of an arc than Teba, especially since we set him up as an intentional mirror for Revali.)

Speaking of Daruk, there was a time where Ginneke and I feared that he’d be sidelined compared to the other Champions. And then chapter 8 happened and suddenly he became a big part of the story :D

So let me talk about Ginneke. (And yes love, I know you were the one to send me the ask, but let me gush about you anyway <3)

Moonlight wouldn’t be half of what it is today without her. We refined that very first outline through hours and hours of conversation and bouncing ideas off each other. She is almost single-handedly responsible for the role Purah ended up playing in this story, as well as Link being explicitly genderqueer and Yunobo’s entire plotline.

The latter two both found their origin in Carry Them Inside You, the first of the sidefics, so let me gush about those for a moment! They’re all explicitly canon to Moonlight, and while we tried to stay fairly light on the references in Moonlight proper, you will absolutely get the best reading experience if you read the sidefics alongside the main story!

Because Moonlight only has Link and Zelda as POV characters, the sidefics were our best way to show what went on when they weren’t around (or, in Carry Them Inside You’s case, what Link was doing that he didn’t want Zelda to know about). An attentive reader may have even caught a few reveals before they were shown in Moonlight proper: the Champions still being alive was all but stated in there’s no turning away, and a soft yellow moon gave more context to Mipha’s actions in chapter 9. Some of our biggest Revali knives were shown in This flooded sky before they made it into the main story (and one never made it into the main story at all, because Revali isn't talking).

(If you know Enough to go by, then the title of This flooded sky also carries a hint towards Revali’s final plan: I’m wanting your anger/ I only want to see if I can shake you out of sleep/ And bring you out under this flooded sky/ At any price)

And of course, Ginneke’s writing is absolutely spectacular in all of them!

Going forward, the POV will probably not remain limited to Link and Zelda alone. There’s a lot going on in Hyrule, and they definitely don’t know all of it.

I am extremely happy with how both of their stories came out. For Link in particular, I think I succeeded in creating the same sense of isolation that’s characteristic of early botw, before you really set out into the world. We debated heavily whether we wanted the first four loops to be so repetitive, but I’m glad we did in the end, because it really worsened Link’s state of mind and set up the events of loop 5 and onwards.

And by that same token, I’m glad that the world expanded after that, first with Revali and then the other Champions, and then the rest of Hyrule as well. Despite the somber tone of it, chapter 11 was one of my favorite chapters to write, because I finally got to put the rest of Hyrule front and center.

(And also because it’s where any chance of Zelda and Revali ever having a cordial relationship gets killed deader than the leviathans. Zelda and Revali each consider themselves responsible for Link’s death, and they are projecting that guilt onto each other.)

Zelda and Link’s relationship was another favorite part of mine. Sometimes I reread the earlier chapters and I’m struck by how distant they were, compared to their closeness in the final chapters. They really didn’t know how to act around each other, especially since Link had lost most of his memories and their relationship was always a bit fraught to begin with. But I’m glad they evolved past that.

And I’m firmly of the opinion that Link would always chafe at being confined to a formalized court environment again. He feared that possibility from the very start (and it was part of the reason why he put off fighting Ganon for so long), so it was very liberating when he finally got to say outright ‘no, I don’t want that’, and still find a way to support Zelda, if only from a distance.

And Revali, oh Revali… In early chapters, we often joked about Revali and Purah fighting for the tritagonist position. And while Purah eventually got the title when it came to plot developments, Revali definitely earned it for character developments.

He’s a mess of contradictions. He doesn’t want to move on, but he’s ready to sacrifice his life so that Link doesn’t lose his. He longs to be a part of Rito Village again, but he’s convinced that the Rito will either disdain him for failing to take down the Calamity or only see him for his title. He feels so much guilt about failing to save Link that he takes all of it out on Zelda. It should come as no surprise that his scenes were among my absolute favorites to write, even if they were often very difficult to get right and needed multiple rewrites to hit on the correct tone.

Mipha probably got the second-biggest role out of all the Champions. When she regained her Grace in chapter 8, we realized she would remember that loop according to the rules we’d established. And that made her a perfect person to both serve as a voice of reason to stop Zelda and Revali before things really got too bad, and also call out Link on some of his shit later on.

Daruk quickly became one of my favorite characters to write (best Champion). He was unceasingly supportive, even when Link didn’t particularly want to hear that, but Yunobo being so intimidated by him was always something that weighed on him, and he tried very hard to present himself as unthreathening. Perhaps he even went a little overboard there, but he genuinely is extremely proud of Yunobo and would have been no matter what Yunobo chose to do.

In the end, it was Urbosa who probably had the least involved plotline of all the Champions, but having her around was still a massive boon for Zelda, and eventually Riju. One of the things we really wanted to make clear was that Urbosa was not here to take the title of Chief back from Riju. If Riju asked her to, she might have accepted, but it needed to be very clear that she did not outrank Riju, nor did she want to. (And if Urbosa sees a lot of Zelda in Riju, well, obviously.)

I’d also be remiss in not mentioning some of the other characters: Purah, our plot tritagonist, who was instrumental in figuring out exactly what was going on and providing Link and Zelda with some much needed help in those first few loops. Riju, who among all the time shenanigans is one of the few people concerned with the political implications of a Hyrule without the Calamity, who is such a perfect mirror of Zelda: forced to bear a burden that by all rights should have been her mother. Sidon, so concerned for Link, so eager to fight by his side that he’s the one who finally hands Zelda the solution to their problem, so willing to defy his father (and Dorephan, still mourning the child he already lost and terrified that he’ll lose yet another one). And Yunobo, always casting himself in the shadow of his famed grandparent, but so much braver and smarter than he gives himself credit for, who probably did more to turn the tide in the final battle than any other character.

(Also Teba, who is in a constant state of ‘what are all these fucking children doing here?’)

Okay, so I’ve spent almost 2000 words talking about Moonlight already, and I can probably get in another 1000 if I really wanted to. But suffice to say, I’m extremely happy with how that story came out. It’s probably the best thing I’ve written to date, and I think I pulled off just about everything I set out to do.

Of course, absolutely none of that would have been possible without Ginneke, who helped refine this vague idea of a story into something actually worth reading. It was an absolutely wild ride, and while writer’s block hit me hard at several points, I’m really glad we got to the end of it.

There’s more to this universe, though it will probably involve a lot less time shenanigans! I think I’m quite solidly done with those for a little while.

#moonlight (every single night)#botw #thank you love <3 #watch me ramble for 2k about this fic I wrote and which I love so very much!#heleen writes #...ish

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