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#Trying to figure out how to draw these four was hard
factual-fantasy · 2 years
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So in light of the partly disappointing Mario movie trailer, I felt the need to draw my favorite interpretation of the Mario brothers.
They’re 50% squishy, 50% anxiety, and 100% “I love my brother more than anything in the whole world and I would die for him in a heart beat”. With some “I’m so stupid in love with this super tall lady and I have no idea what to do about it” sprinkled on top. :}
Also Italian to English translation:
Luigi: “Mario how do you talk to women”
Mario: “I have no idea”
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mishapen-dear · 10 months
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youtube
guess who got so brainrotted over jaiden animations that they finished their first animatic
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lavenderpop · 2 years
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are your brothers even your brothers if they don’t invade your personal space ten times a day?
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hello-kuni · 1 year
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𝐃𝚬𝚨𝐃 𝚶𝐅 𝚴𝚰𝐆𝐇𝚻
syn: when you're sleeping and they need you and how they remedy that situation
ft. diluc, itto, thoma, kaeya
cw: 18+ mdni, f!reader, somnophilic elements, dubcon-ish, m masturbation, f receiving oral, dry humping, thigh fucking
a/n: welcome to my genshin debut (bear with me pls i'm getting out of my slump)
❁ diluc
it's late in the night when he creeps into the bedroom. you're already fast asleep and unaware of his late arrival. he keeps the light off to change, unwilling to disturb you. as he crawls into bed beside you, he notices the covers have slipped down your body, knowing goosebumps are rising on your skin in the chilly room. he catches a glimpse of your figure as he reaches to cover you, nothing more than a shadow in the dark.
"archons," he whispers, feeling himself harden at the sight. he hadn't realized just how...frustrated he is until that moment. the last thing he wants is to wake when he knows he can stave off his desires for the time being. so that's exactly what he does.
conjuring an image of you, he lays back against his pillow and lets his hand wrap around his cock. his strokes are quick and uncaring. something about touching himself to the thought of you feels wrong to him and he'd rather not draw it out for too long. not to mention his body his heavy with sleep.
he's getting close to his release, unaware of the fact he's quietly moaning your name as he's imagining that it's your pussy squeezing him instead of his own hand. he hadn't noticed you stirring beside him, awoken by the gentle sound of you name in the beloved timber of his voice. but he's well aware that you're now awake when you wrap your hand over his, effectively stopping his strokes moments before he cums.
heat creeps up his neck at being caught. your hand trails lower as you whisper, "even at times like this, i'm yours to have."
he lets out a shaky breath, but his conviction is solid. "i'll never disturb you for a need i can satiate on my own. not like that."
the mere implication of your words was enough to shake any hint of sleep from him, now fully awake and present. the thought of doing something such as that would never cross his mind.
you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, sultry eyes peering up at him. "then come to bed earlier and let me take care of you."
now that was something he could work with. he brings his lips to your own and mumbles in agreement. after this exchange he's prepared to call it a night, his earlier frustration a fading memory, when you disappear under the sheets. and at the warmth that envelopes him, sleep becomes a distant thought.
❁ itto
fours rounds before bed apparently still wasn't enough for itto. he awoke a few hours after falling asleep, hard from a dream where you were--no, no he can't think about it. if he thinks about it his problem won't go away. but not thinking about it isn't helping either.
he resolves to ignore the ache and go back to sleep, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you in close with his face tucked into your hair. but all that does is rub your ass against his already sensitive cock and now he's greedy for more. he shudders at the feeling, breath catching in his throat. he tries to resist, he really does, but he's weak when it comes to you.
the next movement is accidental, he tells himself. he's just trying to get comfortable. but that little taste is all he needs to be rutting against your ass. it's not the rough thrusts from earlier in the night, but something sloppy and vaguely desperate. all the while, he's still cautious, unwanting to wake you.
guilt is distant feeling creeping closer as he continues to drag the length of his cock against you. but that all dissolves when he feels your gentle hand on the back of his neck. he sucks in a breath, uncaring of the hair in his mouth.
"is this okay?" he asks, voice a rough whisper. "tell me it's okay."
at times like this, it's like his personality does a complete shift. it sends a heat through you and you just want to hear more of it. you don't have the energy for another round, were barely able to keep up earlier, but this--this is fine. your reply comes out a mumble, "it's okay."
the arms wrapped around your waist tighten and his speed quickens, chasing what he's craved since his interrupted dream of you. he doesn't stop until his cum is coating your back.
❁ thoma
the sun still has a bit of a journey before the first rays begin to peak over the horizon. yet thoma is regretfully awake to begin the day's duties. which wouldn't be so bad any other day, but today he awoke with an ache. he feels only a little guilty as he trails kisses down your naked body--the memory of that little fact doing nothing to help his case--scattering them across your thighs and gently coaxing you from sleep.
as he nestles between your thighs, you begin to stir, a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips as your hips wiggle at the first lick of his tongue. your hands gravitate to his hair, urging him on from those teasing kitten licks. he's quick to get the hint. he groans into you as his tongue delves between your slick folds.
in moments like this, even when he’s desperate to alleviate the growing ache, he prioritizes your pleasure over his. always. it's no fun for him if you're not enjoying it. but being buried between your legs is as enjoyable for him as it is for you. his mouth works you like a man who’s forgotten the last time he’s had a meal. it’s sloppy, yet not without thought behind each movement. his tongue licks long, languid stripes up through your folds, flicking across your sensitive clit. his mouth closes over the aching bud to suck and slurp. every lewd sound he makes mixes with the ones he’s drawing out of you.
he would have stayed there a lot longer if you weren't pulling on his hair. he crawls up your body, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. when he gets to your face he gives you a sleepy grin, and says simply, "good morning."
"a very good morning," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and one leg hooking around his back to pull him closer.
his gaze drifts to the window where he can see just enough of the sky to decide he can spare a few more minutes with you before he gets ready for the day. the slight roll of his hips against you is all you need to understand his plan.
❁ kaeya
archons above, he really can't stand those little shorts of yours. it's gotten to the point they haunt him in his dreams. nightmares, really. the slight peak of your ass is always taunting him in wake and sleep. not to mention the way they hug you so perfectly, sculpting you ass and framing your thighs, his eyes can't help but stare as you walk by him. it doesn't help that he knows you're wearing them right now.
it's no secret to you that he has a rather strong fixation on your ass and thighs. it's those thighs he wants to feel right now, highlighted by those little sleep shorts. he has a long day ahead of him, he should be sleeping, but the only thing on his mind is you.
there's little shame as he reaches down between your bodies and frees his cock from its confines, one hand holding onto your hip. a shiver crawls down every nerve of his spine as he slips his cock between your plush thighs, the warmth enveloping him like a sinful hug. he bites back a moan, swallowing it as it wells up in his throat. chewing on his lower lip, he rolls his hips once.
and it's enough to shatter whatever self-control he has left.
a strangled moan leaves his lips and there's nothing he can do to stop it. his thrusts pick up pace, racing him towards his climax he's desperately sought since crawling into bedside you and feeling the expanse of the bare skin of your legs. he's so close, so close--
"kaeya." your voice cuts through the room, thick with sleep. his hips stutter but don't stop.
"couldn't help myself," he groans. "not when you're dressed like this."
you hummed in response, hand covering his as his thrusts pick up pace again. warm breath fans across your neck. it's not long until he's painting your thighs. and soon after rolling you on your back to lay between your legs.
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sprout-fics · 10 months
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have you ever dabbled in Omegaverse CoD?? If you’re comfortable I’d love some spicy headcanons about Alpha 141 with their Omega reader 🤭
Oh don't even get me STARTED-
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Omegaverse TF141 Headcanons
(Part One: How it Begins)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Emergency heat, Illegal suppressants
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So first of all, I have a hard time imagining all four men are alphas
Primarily because I believe in the gospel that is Omega Soap
The idea of being underestimated because of his designation, of being rebellious of authority due to it and rising the ranks to prove his commanding officers wrong, of possibly even concealing himself because of the stereotypes involved is GOLD
Soap is also an attention whore, is very tactile and affectionate and outgoing, and I just feel like Omega suits him better than Alpha or Beta
We don't need to argue about Price. This man is an Alpha. No debate. Assured. Commanding. Feral. Protective. Yet gentle and indulgent when he can be.
Gaz I think can be pretty versatile, but for the sake of team dynamics and figuring out how they all blend together, Beta suits him best. He's calmer, keeps his cool under fire, and is in many ways more emotionally attuned than Soap. He's a steadying presence that's needed within the volatility of the other three, and they adore him endlessly for it
Ghost, for the sake of these headcanons, is an Alpha. However I think there's a whole realm of exploration in regards to him being a hidden omega. Details on that at a later time.
You, however, are an Omega
You, like Soap, concealed your designation in the military to avoid questions. You take a rigorous amount of suppressants, allow yourself to be perceived as a beta. Under the radar. Quiet. Reserved. Trying to not draw attention.
That changes when you're in the field with the 141 and things go very very badly.
It's an extended mission. You'd packed a month's worth of heat suppressants, can live off the lower quality ones given in supply drops along the way. You're there as an asset, a specialist, and there's a distance between you and the team that you don't mind. As long as you don't attract their attention and reveal yourself things will be fine
Except they aren't fine. In fact, they go to shit
Your camp is ambushed. You lose your kit in the scuffle, try to scramble for it under the hail of gunfire but Ghost grabs you by the scruff and snarls to leave it
You have no choice. You're hauled away, watching your kit vanish into the darkness, your heat suppressants alongside it
It takes a few days for the effects to settle in, and when they do it's hard
You haven't had a heat in years, and the withdrawal of the supplements you've been swallowing gives you a withdrawal whiplash that sends you into a delirious, feverish haze
You try and push them away, try and say you're fine, but you've been made
Soap is the first to figure it out. He knows that scent like he knows himself. He plays arbitrator alongside Gaz, tries to keep you hydrated and fed, keeps Ghost and Price well at bay. They're respectful, of course, sympathetic no doubt, but they're glad for Gaz and Soap running interference
Unfortunately it becomes clear pretty fast that things are quite dire
You've been taking illegal suppressants for far too long in an attempt to conceal your designation. They're illegal for a reason, because once your supply runs out, the heat you go through could be fatal
Price intervenes first
He's gentle, reassuring, firm in your feverish, wrecked state. You look at him with watery eyes, drink in his scent and beg him please-
He gives you what you need. Slow, firm thrusts, dragging wanting little cries from you as he ruts you with precise, rolling presses of his hips into yours
He has Gaz on standby, makes sure that his captain doesn't hurt you, doesn't lose himself. Your head is braced on his lap, your tears of pleasure wiped away by his thumbs as he hushes you "I know. I know doll. You're okay. Gonna take care of you."
It's not enough. You're consumed by sickening heat, and eventually Ghost is forced to step in too
He fills the ache in way Price is reluctant to, refuses to do as your superior officer. Ghost involves himself in the role, tells himself it's to save you, to keep you alive
But when you moan and whine under him so pretty like that, he has a hard time holding back
After, Soap holds you, shushes into your hair as you whimper and whine, as Ghost and Price debate about abandoning the mission so they can call for med-evac. It's Soap's hands on you that help quell the ache, provide a brief respite from the all consuming blaze inside you
It takes days for your heat to settle, and in those days you're lost in a buttery haze of flesh and wetness and moans as the men try and see to you, try and tell themselves it's only clinical, try to refuse the fact that they're falling for you
You wake up back at base, and in the days that follow you barely leave your room, waiting for you to be called down to someone's office and dismissed from your role, turned out of the military for hiding your designation
Instead you're summoned by Price, and in his office are the others
"No one will ever know." He promises you, low and sincere. "You have our protection as long as you want it."
You know years later that this was the moment you accepted your fate, took a single step towards them that would lead to the claims against your skin, each of them bearing your own mark in turn. Claimed.
In this moment you look up at them, again echo that singular desperate plea for them to stay.
"Please."
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amerricanartwork · 2 months
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"Even with my divine influence, there is nothing that can be done... I'm sorry, little ruffian."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It's done! I spent like three to four hours working on this last week, but I'm so happy with how this turned out! It was a little hard figuring out the colors, especially for the chamber walls, but it worked out in the end!
I'm trying to not just practice more with these colored pencils, but branch out into making more finished pieces that feature actual scenes and even a bit of story in addition to my sketches. Granted, iterators are good practice for that because their backgrounds are rather simple compared to a natural or even urban landscape conceptually speaking, but still fun to draw, especially with the full arm and umbilical. Seriously, as much as I love drawing just the puppets in an off-the-string manner, it's honestly really fun to draw the arms, the cords, all the wires in the backs of their heads, and the thinking circles, maybe even with a few pearls sprinkled around sometimes.
But anyway, enough rambling. Hope you like the finished product as much as I do!
Oh, and just for a little comparison, I'll leave the sketch below!
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And a quick side-by-side with the preview:
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watchmegetobsessed · 9 months
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HOME
A/N: im still in denial and this is my way of coping
WORD COUNT: 1k
SUMMARY: You knew the emotions would catch up with Harry once more after the show. And you're there to guide him through these overwhelming feelings.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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 You knew it would be just a matter of time before the overwhelming emotions of the final show would catch up with Harry again once he has left the stage. The speech he delivered was just the first wave, knowing Harry, and you know him probably better than anyone else, more was to come.
The backstage was full of hugs, congratulations and promises to never forget the experiences shared on this amazing journey. Harry stayed in his show outfit for way longer he usually did as he made his rounds among his friends, family, all his loved ones who came out to support him on the end of his tour. And you stayed by his side through it all. His hand remained wrapped around yours and you silently waited for him to process it.
Now you’re back in your hotel room, it’s almost dawn, the night has stretched long, though you know Harry wished it lasted forever. You’re lying in bed, waiting for him to finish in the bathroom, scrolling through your phone, watching all the fan made tributes to Love On Tour.
You notice that the water has shut down for a while now, but Harry still hasn’t come out. Slipping off the bed you walk over to the closed door and try to listen to the voices and figure out what he is doing and then you hear it.
The sobs.
“Harry? Can I come in?” you gently knock on the door before opening it and poking your head inside.
Standing in front of the mirror, he is leaning onto the sink, his wet curls are falling ahead and you see his shoulders shaking right away.
“Oh baby.” You push the door open more and move over to him, hugging his waist from behind as you press a million kisses between his shoulder blades.
“S-sorry, I just—“ he speaks up, but his sobs doesn’t let him talk.
“It’s okay. It’s okay baby,” you squeeze him and rest your forehead against the back of his neck while you just patiently give him the chance to let it all out.
You knew it was coming, it’s no surprise. You expected him to have his emotions overflow at one point, he gave over two years of his life to this tour, it’s natural he is having a hard time dealing with letting it go.
Minutes pass by and his breathing somewhat regulates, you loosen your hold around him and urge him to move around so you can look at him. You’ve seen the tiredness on his face for a while now, but it’s screaming now, mixed with the sadness and bitterness that’s eating him away right now.
You take his tear soaked cheeks in your hands and lift yourself up onto your tiptoes so your lips could meet his salty ones.
“Let’s get you to bed, okay?”
He just nods and lets you walk him out of the bathroom and to the bed. He takes his side and you climb onto yours and he curls against you in an instant, his head lying on your chest as you’re propped up against the headboard.
“Sorry, it just all… came crashing over me,” he breathes out, his voice croaked and low.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
With gentle fingers, you’re raking through his hair, massaging his scalp while his hands slip under your shirt, to your ribcage so he can follow how it expands with every breath you draw.
“It’s so weird that it’s over.”
“It is, yeah,” you hum. Raking your brain you’re trying to figure out what would help him and you decide to recall your favorite memories. “Do you remember the show in Nashville? When I spilled cranberry juice on your shirt so you didn’t wear one under the sparkly jacket?”
“I remember that,” he chuckles. “Don’t think the fans were mad at it.”
“They all just want to see you naked, like I do,” you tease him. “That’s why I hid your shirt on Wembley night four.”
“What?” he lifts his head. “That was you?”
“Of course,” you grin.
“You cheeky little thing,” he shakes his head before resting his chin on your chest this time so he can look at you. “I loved it when you matched your outfit with mine.”
“You remember what shows we matched?” you challenge him.
“Madison Square Garden night one and two, Denver, Tokyo, Edinburgh, Vienna…” he recites, probably better than you could have.
“My mom loves the picture of us in Edinburgh, we looked like two Barbie dolls,” you chuckle.
“Pauli said you should have gotten matching outfits with them as well.”
“I am part of the Love Band too, right?”
“Especially when Sarah teaches you how to drunk before shows,” he smirks, taking you back to all the times Sarah was your teacher even though your sense of rhythm has never been the best.
“I would make an excellent drummer, come on!”
“Absolutely,” he laughs and the tears are finally gone, it’s all just the most precious memories from the past two years.
It gets brighter outside but the two of you can’t stop talking about the best moments you’ll always remember. Harry recalls his favorite fan moments, the signs, the reactions, he tells you about how he often thinks about the pregnant women he did gender reveals for and if the babies have been born already. You tell him about your favorite shows, the best dance moves he has busted out on stage and soon there’s no show you haven’t brought up, there’s something memorable in each and every one.
It’s past six in the morning when Harry finally falls asleep, exhaustion has won and he is snoring gently, still curled up against you as you watch him for a bit, feeling like you’re the one guarding his peace.
“You brought so many people home,” you whisper and craning your neck you press a kiss to the top of his head. “Now it’s time for you to go home and rest.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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bratphilia · 6 months
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grasp (w. afton x reader)
request: "I don’t really have a coherent story (just some thots) but i’d kill for some sort of smuttyyy ficlet that has the reader who is very short as in 4 foot 10 and has petite features (just like me 😵‍💫) being picked up and slung over Matthew Lillard!William Afton’s shoulder 🥴🥴 Include reader being scared and trying to wriggle free??? (due to her seeing or knowing something she shouldn’t have about Raglan) and some name-calling like ‘little one’, ‘good girl’ & ‘atta girl’ 🤤 - 🧸"
note: hi nonniebear!! i'm sorry if this fic is a little rushed but i tried to stay true to what you requested! hope you enjoy and feel free to keep sending in more ideas :)
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: bondage, praise kink, fingering, squirting, begging
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fuck. you're really in for it now. 
this yellowish, decaying rabbit stalks towards you, and there are four, sentient and bloodthirsty animatronics behind you. 
you're stuck. 
even worse, the rabbit came from the entrance, so if you were to try to make your escape that way there was a likelihood of you running into his knife.
"please," you find yourself pleading. "please don't kill me."
the rabbit laughs menacingly and bends down to your level. "how about this? i'll give you a head start." 
without any further questions you bolt through the maze of halls and towards the office. you crouch down in front of the vent the rabbit was referring to and unscrew the bolts barricading it. thank god you're small enough to fit in the vents. this might actually work.
then you hear unmistakeable, thumping footsteps coming towards you. 
it only hurries your actions. your heart rate rapidly increases. the screws are so aged with rust that it's hard to—
the door opens with a loud thud. you scream at the noise, and again when you're being lifted off the ground. it's the yellow rabbit. 
it slings you over its shoulder with unmatched strength. you wail incoherent words and pleas as you pound the back of the suit with balled fists. 
"help me!" you scream out to no one. "somebody help!" 
the rabbit wordlessly carries you down the hall, to one of the locked doors you dared not to venture into during your shifts. it carried you down a couple stairs and then set you on a dentist-office-style chair. 
at this point tears are rolling down your face. eyes are shut in fear of looking your captor in the eyes. uncontrollable sobs escape your mouth, praying that these aren't your final moments. then the rabbit wraps both hands (paws?) around your wrists and holds them to the arm handles so that restraints can bolt around them. 
"oh, save it," he says, clearly annoyed with your crying. "i've heard it all before, you don't deserve to die, and all that."
your eyes shoot open. the rabbit's voice no longer sounds robotic and you realize you actually recognize it. 
in a very dramatic fashion, it's steve raglan. your career counsellor, a.k.a the man who got you this job in the first place. 
he almost looks ridiculous in the rabbit suit, which admittedly doesn't add much to his already sizeable frame, but you can't find the humor in the situation in which you could be seconds away from dying in. 
"why?" you find yourself asking, suddenly more curious than hysteric. "why give me this job if you were just going to kill me in the end?" 
"because you got a little too close to the truth, and for some reason, those brats up there were unable to take care of the job themselves," he snarls resentfully. he must be referencing the animatronics. it makes sense now— the kids in the drawings with the yellow rabbit on the wall. 
"it was you. you killed those kids."
steve gives you a horrible smile. one that almost makes you weak, with that dimple you recognize from many conversations in his office. "you finally figured it out."
he walks behind you, shuffling around in the suit, and you crane your neck around to see him taking it off. he's wearing a white tee and dark purple slacks. he's not particularly muscular, but not thin either. it's a build specific to middle aged men. you hate to admit it, but your face flushes when you notice how large his hands are. 
he catches you looking at him and smiles, cocking his head curiously. "see something you like, little night guard?" instantly you whip your head back around. your head is at a moral war with itself, with you being disappointed in yourself that you were actually checking out a child serial killer. 
but steve doesn't leave it alone. once he abandons the suit, he swiftly strides over you. he places both hands on your restraints, caging you in. you shrink into yourself. 
"i think," he says lowly, "i might have a different use for you, little one. one that we can both enjoy." 
you swallow, not saying anything. steve reaches a hand up to slide down your face then cup your jaw. his hands are cold to the touch and it sends shivers down your spine. 
you find your voice. "don't touch me."
"don't touch you? are you sure?" he says cockily and you can only glare at him in response. 
"what if i just..." he trails off, sliding the hands on his face down your neck, your chest, abdomen, and eventually your core. he presses his hand there hard, making you jolt upwards and whimper. "so you don't want me to touch you, is what i'm hearing?"
fuck. this undeniably hot serial killer has you at his disposal and you can't help but feel turned on. if you're going to die, and your chances really aren't looking good for you, maybe you should just...
"please," you murmur, closing your legs so they trap his hand there.
"please, what?"
you swallow. "please fuck me." 
"'atta girl." he grins from ear to ear. "y'know, all that begging you did earlier really did a number on me, but i must say i love this change of heart."
steve starts to undo the buttons of your slacks and begins to pull them down, leaving you bare in your underwear. it's at this point you realize how wet you are, and you try to relieve the tension in your core by squeezing your thighs together but he grabs your legs and presses them to your stomach. you're just so malleable to him.
he tugs off your panties and discards them mindlessly. "look at that," he marvels at your bare skin, "so pretty, little one."
you squirm against the restraints a little. at this point the anticipation will kill you faster than he will. you wish he would just touch you already, but you had to admit all his praises were only adding to your arousal.
steve decides to sit a little further down the chair and wordlessly plunges a finger inside your pussy. he goes deliberately slow, clearly gaging your reaction. "fuck," you mutter, and it takes all your strength to not buck your hips into his movements.
"you need this, don't you, sweet girl?" he muses, stopping the thrusting of his fingers, but still keeping them inside. "tell me."
"please, please, please..." tears coat your lashes from all the teasing. "'need it so bad."
he gives you a kind smile, one you haven't seen since you were back in his office. "good girls get what they ask for. "
steve slides in a second finger and begins to pump faster. it's an improvement but you find yourself needing more. you buck your hips up hoping he would get the message and he simply laughs lowly as he adds a third finger into the mix.
his pace gets progressively faster over time to your delight. the noises coming from your center is absolutely obscene. you can feel your juices dripping down onto the seat.
"ah — ah!" you cry out, feeling your orgasm nearing. "i'm coming — please, slow down—"
you squeeze your eyes shut. all the sudden the chair is abnormally wetter than you would have expected and— oh.
your face burns bright red. "i-i'm sorry..."
he's shocked, mouth agape and eyes slightly widened. then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "don't you dare apologize, little one, let's try that again."
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totaly-obsessed · 4 months
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can you write for Katie where her and reader have been dating for awhile and meeting eachothers parents and them getting on well :)
Meeting the Parents
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Katie McCabe x reader request
-> Meeting your girlfriends parents goes better than you would have thought
-> @ anon I hope you like it! -> Another short one
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
Anxiety wrecked through your body as you stood in front of Katie’s childhood home – Today was the day you would meet her parents. With ten siblings it's hard to get them alone, but tonight everything worked out. Your girlfriend of five months wanted to introduce you to her family gradually, and not throw you into cold water, meeting all of them at once.
“What are the chances that you’d let me not meet them, then tell them I died or something and we can run away together and—”
“Breathe, baby. Please!” The Irishwoman couldn’t help but laugh, finding your nervousness cute, but she obviously already knew her parents, and you didn’t. “They’re gonna love you, don’t even worry your pretty little head about it.”
Instead of knocking like you wanted to, your girlfriend just pushed the door open. “Mum! Dad! We’re here!” her loud voice drowned the soft background music out, as two figures made their way towards you from the kitchen.
“Oh it is so lovely to meet you – look how pretty Gary!” Katie’s mum immediately started to fuss about you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug, before keeping you at arm's length, looking you up and down. “We need to get some meat onto ya!”
Wow. This was a lot.
But Katie couldn’t help but smile, watching her mum be so excited towards you and openly inviting you into her family home. Her dad gave her a firm pat on the back, obviously a lot calmer than her mum was – but he also pulled you in a quick hug, making you feel very welcome.
No ten minutes later after getting a tour of the entire home, the four of you were sat at the dining table – or rather Katie and Gary were sitting, while you insisted on helping Sharon carry the many side dishes and help cut the bread. It was delicious – a pasta mushroom ragout with incredible homemade bread, very hearty and filling.
Everything was going well and Katie admired the way you just fit in perfectly with both her parents. Sharon and you shared a passion for cooking and gardening while Gary admired your subtle and funny digs at his daughter.
“So what do you do for a living?” Gary had swatted at Katie to help her Mum clear the table, making you sit back down again, insisting that you had already helped enough and that your girlfriend was indeed able to do some work, even if she would try to convince you from other things.
“Oh, I’m a Bank Teller. I help our customers cash checks, withdraw money, move transactions to different accounts, create checking and savings accounts, and provide checks to customers – stuff like that.”
Both Gary and Sharon had wide eyes, that just screamed impressed – while Katie had that annoying, cocky smirk on her face as her hand rested on your thighs. “Told you she’s smarter than all of us!”
You could see where Katie had gotten her wit, humor, and compassion from. Her parents truly were incredible. Eleven children was no easy feat and all of them had grown to be lovely human beings. It made your eyes water a bit, hearing the parents brag about their youngest getting good grades and finding passion in drawing.
“Katie here was always a little special though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriend’s wide eyes – she was fucked. The conversation had turned from her sibling's embarrassing stories to her own and she knew it. “We once went to church, and the priest raised his voice at the end of his sermon, to emphasize his point. And because Katie here, wasn’t allowed to shout in the house, she stood up on the pews and yelled at the top of her lungs ‘Inside voice only!’ – the whole church laughed!”
Gary could barely tell the story, or get through the impression of his daughter without nearly dying of laughter – and you joined him. Katie could only watch you, mesmerized that you fit in so well, that she didn’t even care that her parents were just completely embarrassing her with story after story until your belly hurt from laughing so much.
The way out took at least thirty minutes, someone always found something else to say. You were sure that you had hugged Sharon at least five times now. “Okay! We’ll be off now!”
Once again you hugged both of her parents, whispering a small ‘Thank you for having us’ in their ears while Katie watched. “Oh get some leftovers, would’ ya?” And with that you were gone again, leaving your girlfriend with her father by the door.
“Do you like her?”
“I think I like her more than you.”
Katie scoffed. She could definitely understand her father, and she was happy that the evening had gone over so well.
Meanwhile, Sharon and you were in the kitchen, making a huge box of leftovers to take home with you. “Thank you for loving my daughter. You were one of us from the moment you started taking care of her.”
“Thank you for giving birth to Katie – and for welcoming me!” Both of you laughed through the tears at your clumsy statement.
You left Katie with her parents, already getting in the car to give them a moment alone. The night was cold and Katie’s coat only did so much to keep you warm, but the box of food still emitted a warmth. Not only because it was still hot, but also because it felt like home.
“I’m gonna be honest my love. Watching you guys together made me glad because I know you have someone when your mum and I leave this earth.” Sharon still had tears in her eyes, and now Katie did too.
“Don’t say stuff like that Dad, make you look old!”
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pursuitseternal · 5 months
Text
“Persuade Me,” Ascended Astarion tells you, a sub!Astarion, all tied up for you in “The Rogue You Were”
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Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.9K persuasive dom/sub bdsm smut
Summary: He’s so terribly stubborn, it will take a lot of persuasion to get him to come around. All tied up, it should be easy, but no matter how *hard* it is, it will be… delicious for you both…
CW: bondage, sub!Astarion, tender confessions, possessive and stubborn Ascended behavior, persuasive bedroom techniques so effective, he tells you the reason he can’t let you out of his sight, why you are not just… some… spawn…
Based on “Just A Drop🩸”
Read on AO3 | Astarion fic Masterlist
How will you persuade him…
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen Lord Astarion all morning,” you give your most convincing look of worry, of concern and confusion. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, painted lips pouting as you close your dressing gown tightly around your body. “Perhaps try the grounds? Everyone knows he enjoys a good stroll in the dawn…”
And with that you shut the door in the poor trembling servants face. A brief flash of relief on their fearful countenance that dismissing them and shutting the door on them was the worst you did. You hear their poor feet skitter away. And then, you turn with a deep, contented breath to view the sight stretched in your bed.
Yours. And his.
He’s waiting. Patiently. Spread wide and tethered to the four posts of your bed frame, and most of all, your mouth waters to see that hardened, twitching, eager cock proudly erect.
Just as you left him.
Only now, his eyes are drawn, half-lidded, his tongue licking his lips.
“They will get suspicious eventually, darling,” he croons, all the tones of confidence as you draw alongside the bed, dropping your thin, little dressing gown to reveal you pale figure again.
“Let them,” you purr right back. “They wouldn’t dare enter without my permission,” you cock your head flirtatiously, “or yours. But since you are… tied up with other matters…”
“Puns, darling,” he groans, face twisting in a sour show of distaste.
“…they will just have to take my word for it.” You laugh slowly, sitting yourself beside his hip, a single finger tracing through the ridges of his stomach. Ignoring his little taunt, savoring his submission as your willing plaything for now.
“Liar,” he croons rolling his body to press against your ass, where you are perched almost out of reach. “You said Lord Astarion isn’t here,” he’s growling. Provoking. Straining against his binds that are restraining both him and his ever-growing magic.
You give him that wide-eyed innocent look, scanning the room, a show of searching, a pantomime that only makes him sneer playfully and shake his head. “All I see is my lover, my Vampire Rogue, who is being rather stubborn about all this,” you sigh as you swiftly roll to brace yourself above him, perched on your hands and knees to hover over his taught form. Tantalizingly close.
He groans, trying to lift himself to touch any part of you. But you are clever, you’ve played enough games on the receiving end of such pleasurable punishments to know just what you wish to do.
“I am allowed to be stubborn when what you ask for is reckless… painful… dangerous…” he’s snarling below you, his chin jutting up to make his shining fangs all the more fearsome.
“It has been months since the end of our adventures,” you reply in calm and steady tones, “months of solidifying our power, of eliminating the traces of our enemies and assuring alliances, even with old friends…” you think of Wyll, new Duke Ravenguard, and the tenuous agreement to turn his literal blind eye on most of what Astarion does. Trusting you to be the one to keep him in check from anything horribly nefarious.
“You think my consort… my queen… should wander the streets of Baldur’s Gate alone? Unguarded? Like some….”
“Adventurer and hero?” you interject.
“I was going to say commoner…” he sniffs, disgruntled.. “You’re so much more than that now, my love. Let me free and I’ll show you just how special you are… how regal and unique…”
You skate your fingers down the hard lines of his stomach, barely ghosting their way towards his straining erection. “Mmmmm my love, you’re always so good at persuading with your body, I’d like to give it a try.”
“You can try, darling…” he swallows his grunt as you finally touch him, just the pads of your fingers tracing up the underside of his cock. “But you’ll find my tongue is better suited to other… pursuits… than merely trying to give you my word.”
“I’ll take my chances,” you simper, you pout, lowering your head to place a gentle kiss at the joint of his hip. “I think all you need is the correct incentive… the sweetest persuasion…”
“What you ask will certainly take a lot to persuade me, darling,” he groans. “If you think I’m about to allow you to go without an escort around the streets of Baldur’s… hngf…”
You suck him hard, taking in as much of his straining, painful erection as you can until it jabs at the back of your throat and makes you gag. But that’s it. You release him with a deafening, sloppy pop. Meeting his eyes, they are glassy, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. Or pleasure.
“Hells,” he whines, bucking his hips erratically off the bed, even with his legs tethered and spread as they are.
“You want to rethink that assertion, my love?” you preen, crouched beside him, nested in the bedcovers.
“Never,” he growls, a playful smile on his full and pouting lips. “But I’ll join in your game all you want, darling. You’re burning for my cock as much as I am for you and all your deliciousness.”
“Is that so?” You simper, slowly lowering your mouth back down to hover above his aching erection. The closer you get, the more he betrays his anticipation as it twitches. You barely run the tip of your tongue around that ridge of its head. “Just a simple acquiescence to the little thing I ask of you… just to walk beyond our palace…”
“Not without me,” Astarion’s eyes flash, his fangs glinting in the morning light that seeps through the window. “Never alone, my pet…”
You take him in mouth lips again, loose and sloppy, just a bit of wet and warmth to tease him before you dodge away, avoiding the thrust he attempts to make for some relief. “Ah, ah,” you scold with a simpering pout, “we ask first before we start fucking faces, my love.”
“May… I…” he clenches his beautiful white teeth, forcing his words through them, “fuck… you?”
“No, but thank you for asking,” you taunt, running your tongue up that grooved underside, letting it linger along the intricate map of veins that weave around that hard, throbbing length. “Once you agree, then I’ll be more than happy to let you in… somewhere…”
He lets out a ferocious growl, a smile still playing around his lips, eyes craning above his head to inspect your bindings. Even as they tingle with a little magic, a little extra assurance against all his mighty vampiric powers now. “I swear, if I could shift into my newest form…”
“Your cute little bat?” you grin, laughing loudly as you take him deep enough into your throat to feel the vibrations of your throat. Then, you release another strong suck with a pop. “What would you do, make a nest in my hair?”
He laughed at that, low, dark, and rolling. “Tempting,” he hissed back, “nothing short of what you would deserve, darling.”
“To wander without needing to wait for you to be free from your rule… your duties?” you return your attention to that glistening cock with a hungry grin, “I’ll take my chances again.”
He squirms as you barely graze it with your lips again, just little nipples of that smooth, stretched skin up and down its shaft. “Please, darling, please,” his voice grows desperate, edged with need, “give me just a little of your body.”
“And in exchange?” you croon, gracing him with one last lingering suck and swirl around that blunted tip.
“I will take you where you wish to go,” he groans at the continued release, your little reward of rhythmic bobbing over his length as you take him satisfyingly deeper. “To hells with duties, if that is your wish.” Tone softening, he bucks into your mouth, his timing as always impeccable, jamming that slick hardness down your throat as you lower. You sputter and gag, your throat closing around him before you can lift away.
“Naughty,” you chide him gently, frowning with a hint of a smile as you creep to dangle your body over him, all hands and knees and swinging breasts. Breasts he’s licking his lips for as you draw nearer.
“Just a taste, darling,” he flashes those wide, pleading eyes up at you, “I swear I only need a little…”
“Mmmm, I’ve heard such beautiful lies before,” you raise yourself onto your knees, straddling those clenching muscles of his belly. A single one of your finger slips inside your own folds, and you let him hear just how wet you are. It squelches, sloppy and thick as you tease yourself. You ride over his belly, locking your half-closed eyes with his, wide and burning and dilated as they are. “Good rogues get the spoils,” you pant, letting yourself thrust those fingers into your dripping folds harder, faster. You spasm, riding your own hand, feeling his belly rise and fall against your thighs and cunt as you pleasure yourself.
You can hear the bed groaning, the wooden frame creaking loudly as he pulls at every binding. It makes you lick your lips, eyes fluttered shut to savor the way he’s writhing between your thighs, shaking as he comes undone to watch you panting. Always watching as you begin to come, trembling and moaning as you shatter, your arousal pooling over his belly. As you try to catch your breath, you let him look into your gaze, that feral, barely-bridled glow of red in his eyes. You feel his cock throbbing against your ass, twitching as you make the slightest of contact with where his is in deepest agony.
It makes you smile wickedly, leaning forward to proffer your slick and dripping fingers for his lips. You need not say a word, not when he opens, straining against his tethers to suck you clean. Every lap and lick of his tongue, he feasts on your cum, little noises of feeding in his throat, the same he has always made, lips bruising your neck in the wee hours of night.
You tug them roughly from his mouth. “Enough of that from you,” you chide, smiling. Taunting. “I give you a little, and you still have yet to give me my due, my love.”
He grins, licking the corner of his lip. “You still haven’t figured it out yet, have you, my darling… my treasure…? Have you stopped and thought, perhaps, why I won’t let you wander aimlessly into the open, outside of my protection?”
“Because you just can’t bear to be without me…” you tease him, a wicked smile on your face as you place a quick kiss on his insolent lips. He fights for you not to break away, his teeth biting into the swell of your lower lip. “Selfish lover that you are…” you mumble as he tries to devour you all the more.
“Naturally, my little love,” he pants as you raise up, a hand firmly pushed on the base of his throat. “Has it not always been so, darling? Your ferocious rogue always at your side? But now, my sweet consort, have you ever wondered why I can’t resist being just oh.. so… possessive of you?”
You pause, tilting your head, considering. You wait for an answer, but those full, smirking lips of his just press silently together.
“Oh, you wish for me to draw out your answer,” you needle him, an edge of irritation in your voice now.
“Isn’t that the point of your charming, little game?” he presses, tugging at his bonds to make them snap with tension.
“Then let’s play,” you smirk, neck taut as you cock your chin, posturing with all the dominance you can muster.
“Anything to get some wet part of you on my cock, my love…” he arches his body as you slide off his belly. “If you please,” he adds, extra silken temptation in his tone.
“You haven’t been good, but I suppose you require more persuasion,” you hum, “and perhaps you could use a more convincing sight. Until you tell me exactly why you insist on being my constant escort, at least.”
“You’re clever,” he hisses as you begin to turn your back to him, hand gripping that throbbing shaft, his pulse pounding beneath that smooth skin. “If you can defeat the Absolute, the Netherbrain, it should be easy for you to puzzle out why your vampiric lover can’t let his consort out of his sight for a moment…” He groans as you straddle those narrow hips of his, one hand sweeping his cock through your drenched folds. “No matter how powerful… or insolent she may be…” he adds, a deep-throated growl on every word, a snap as he taunts you.
You let him dip slowly inside you, barely taking more than the ridge of his tip between your thighs. Hands gripped on his knees, you feel his legs shaking, trembling to finally find some relief as you fuck him leisurely. A gentle sway, an agonizingly slow riding. And never enough to let him sheath inside you fully.
A mischievous smirk on your lips, you glance over your shoulder. His teeth are grit, his eyes darkened with lust and wide as he cranes to watch your ass, the gradual, rhythmic rise and fall as you pleasure him with total control. “Powerful, am I?” you gloat, taking him just a little deeper.
It makes him hiss, his eyes shutting as sweat begins to dampen his forehead.
“More than you realize,” he gasps, voice grating as he forces his eyes open to drink in the sight of you. “More than I have ever admitted to anyone… to you.”
“Tch,” you suck your teeth in that way he always has, “how sweet, my love. Is that why you keep me here, keep me at your side always? For my power?”
“Don’t forget your beauty that would launch nations into battles for you, my treasure…”
That makes you smile, makes your stomach flutter in expectation, and for your own sake, you take him in, all the way, until you feel the slap of his thighs between your legs.
He roars, pulling on his binds on this hands and feet to make the wood of your bed groan almost as loudly. “Please,” he spits, “do that again, darling.”
“Tell me more reasons, and I just might,” you toss over your shoulder at him, making him feel only the tip of his cock piercing you again.
“Why don’t you think, clever girl?” he hisses, trying to buck into your cunt, to reclaim that little hint of wet and pressure you gave him.
“Because I am your equal?” you grind with every thrust, letting your walls clench as you take him just a bit deeper.
“Yes…” he pants.
“Because you just can’t bear to be so far you can’t smell just how aroused you make me…” you giggle, splaying a hand behind you, over his navel, pressing against those hardened muscles of his belly as you sink all the way down.
“Gods, yes…” he’s groaning, licking his lips as you let him fill you at last.
“Because you’ve given me your power, extended your blessings…” you cant your hips slowly, still drawing him along, but he can only sigh, at last feeling the tightness, the wetness he’s sought for so long now.
“Not just my blessings and power, darling,” he cranes his head back into the bed with a sated sigh as you ride him. Even slowly.
But you pause. Clambering over his hips you spin around to face him, cock still sunk inside you, a hand gripped around the lines of his jaw, his chin, to make him look at you. “What do you mean?” you bite.
“Don’t you recall, clever girl?” He’s laughing under your hold. “That night, your final night… what more did I give you?”
Your mind races, your hips grinding, that need now built inside you too, finally feeling filled to bursting, his cock twitching as it drags right over that perfect, secret spot between your walls.
“Free me, if you please, so I may remind you…” he’s crooning, purring as you fuck him. “Please,” he adds, a little extra seductively, his face twisting in that way that makes your stomach knot as it always has. You spread your hands beside his head, eyes narrowed to see him gloating so smugly under you. His little order sends ripples of anticipation down your spine to pool even hotter where your bodies join.
Your hand shakes, your body now riding him of its own accord, even as you reach for the binding around one wrist to slip it off his pale skin. Instantly, his hand grabs your wrist, pulling it to his mouth as he sinks his fangs into your flesh. You groan, the wave of painful pleasure tearing through you hard enough to make you come. All you feel is his lips drinking you in, his cock throbbing as you spasm and ride him still through the clenches of your orgasm. You’re so full, so taken, so overwhelmed.
And he’s laughing, swirling his tongue over your dripping blood.
“Blood,” you breathe through your climax.
“Not yours,” he growls before biting into his own wrist in the same way. Then, he proffers that flow of his blood for your own lips to taste. “I gave you mine… I made you mine.”
You suck your fill, the tingle of his power, the rush of all that he is, all that he has always been, filling your belly.
“You are not some spawn, darling,” he smirks, that secret dancing over the full pout of his lips. “Your vampire lord gave you his own blood.” His words reach your ear through the euphoria of drinking him in. Suddenly, his hand pulls from your hungry mouth, fingers clawing around your throat. He presses, just enough to make your eyes wide as you swallow under his strength, his hold pulling you down so close to his handsome face. “Even a drop given to you, to turn you, it makes you mine… my consort, my bride, my vampire lover forever, beyond the touch of time itself.”
“Not spawn?” you rasp through his hold on you, a pleased, pleasured smile flickering around your lips as he stares with such longing and adoration up at you.
“No,” he purrs, “but it means I will never let you out of my sight, my power, my protection, so long as we walk this earth. I would rather burn the world to keep you with me forever than risk losing my bride for an instant….” You tremble, you gasp at the ferocity in his gaze as he pulls you down by your throat until your lips crash into his. He feasts on your mouth, groaning at the taste of how your bloods mix and mingle into an intoxicating flavor. Rich. Powerful. United.
Inseparable.
“What a good, good master,” you simper into his kiss. “You shall be rewarded…” You touch the binds again, they all go limp as he shakes them off. He growls his pleasure. He touches you everywhere, fingers sliding from your neck to claw into the hairs at the nape of your neck, nails grabbing for your hips. Legs now liberated, the muscles of his thighs bunch as he starts to fuck hard into you from beneath, feet planted firmly on the bed at last.
“Thank you, my dearest love,” he grins widely, wickedly at you. “I hope I need not persuade you to trust me. Never again forget what it means to be mine…”
“Your bride,” you simper, tasting the title on your tongue, face quirking in a slight and knowing smile. “And that makes you my hus-”
“Your master,” he lifts his head, the weight of his hand at your nape pressing your mouth back down, barely brushing his taunting smirk. “Your lover… your mate or spouse or what have you behind closed doors only.” Then he bites into your neck, fangs piercing like the razors they are. A loud moan slips from your lips as you shiver and shudder in orgasm again from the pain and pleasure. His voice cuts through just as sharply, “And you may only call me husband… three times… for all eternity…” His tongue laps the blood that spills from your veins and down your shoulder now. “Choose wisely, my dearest darling.”
You fight the pull of your pleasure, the need to go limp and just let him fuck you. Not after your hard won victory. So you pull from his mouth, pushing that controlling hand at your neck back down to the bed. “Of course, darling,” you give a naughty smirk, a defiant rake of your brows and flutter of your lips as you press to whisper against his neck instead. “Whatever you say, husband,” you hiss with pure, delightful insolence before you bite him back. Now it’s your mouth that makes him squirm, your control that makes his shudder and hitch as he chases his climax, seeking with reckless abandon the thing that you have kept just tantalizingly out of reach.
“You fuck me like this, my love, and you just might persuade me to get used to it…” he rasps, hands grasped at your hips to keep you steady so he can pummel you mercilessly.
“Ah ah,” you tut your tongue to chide him. “Remember, good masters ask before they come inside their brides,” you gloat, feeling that truth, that connection of your blood and your undead hearts beating all the stronger for it.
“Please,” he begs harshly through gritted teeth, his fucking undeterred as he waits for your word.
He slams up into you with all the more force, his face already screwing and twisting with how close he is.
“Yes, my love,” you acquiesce with a dramatic lilt. It doesn’t take long, not after he watches you smile and feels you clench your walls around him with all your strength. He roars, writhing and spasming as he empties inside you. Buried so deep you feel the tip of his cock twitching against the end of your channel.
You gasp, your sweat dripping down your temple as you watch him begin to still and relax beneath you. But you stay, cock deep and warm inside you, his thighs beneath you soaked with your mingled juices.
“So,” you pant, letting your own body respond with its own basking in the glow of your pleasure, as you slowly lower your body to blanket him. His hand strays absentmindedly through your hair, fingertips softly brushing your cheek with each pass. “You must have lots of ruling to attend to now that you’ve persuaded me,” you murmur, nestled against the hard bone of his jaw, tracing your finger through the pooling of his blood from your bite. You bring that finger to your mouth to suck it clean. “I’ll wait for you before I wish to venture out for the day.”
“Oh,” he grips into your hair, raising your head to look at him again, and your smile widens to see the intensity, the possessive glint in his crimson eyes. “I think all that can wait. Right now, you can choose, venture out and then fuck again until you’re begging me for more? Or fuck first and then venture out into the day, my love?”
You giggle, a grind of your hips to drag over his still hardened cock inside you. “Hmm, a tough choice,” you grin, scoring your own fingers through his hair, “perhaps you need to persuade me this time…”
356 notes · View notes
carpbread0 · 8 months
Text
NPC Life is the best
(Genshin Impact x gn reader - sagau)
(second person pov)
Part 1 —> Part 2 —> Part.3
————————————————
Now that your kaeya predicament was gone, it was finally time to decide what to do for a living. to be honest, you didn’t have to worry about money since you were an accountant and had a few properties in real estate. So money just was never the problem.
but now that you’ve landed in teyvat it seems that all of your hard work has gone out into the gutter. real estate didn’t seem like a good job considering-
well
the fact that you had barely enough mora for four more meals. and accounting didn’t seem all that good either since the store managers in teyvat never seemed to need an accountant at all.
well unless if you wanted to work for the fatui and slave away while also having the chance of being hurt at any moment..
so past jobs just weren’t gonna cut it.
maybe a.. painter? You did paint as a hobby, but then again you didn’t have money for the costly supplies anymore..
oooo! Or maybe a baker? You did enjoy baking with your ex, but then again it was mostly him doing the work while you just stared at him lovesick..
mm.. maybe an adventurer? The pay seemed pretty good and you would get to explore all of teyvat at the same time. However.. the Khaenri’ah quests broke you so hurting a innocent hillichurl would probably break your heart..
who knew picking a job would be so hard?
as you grumble about what to do, a flyer from a nearby wall suddenly flys off gently and straight into your lap. A CHIBI drawing of a familiar figure prancing around piles of mora is dead center as the text above says
NEW!!!
Liben is back in town!! Those with valuable goods such as ores or whatever I’m craving- will be paid handsomely! If you wish to trade with me, please come next to the fruit stalls at the front gate if you wish to trade for a handsome amount of MORA!
teyvat has blessed you
Your holy savior is back in town!
but.. what could liben want today? Then again, his silly little flyer said it could be anything of value. Maybe you should try your luck at getting a precious ore! It shouldn’t be too hard right?
. . . . . . . . .
it was too easy
the moment you trekked out into a small cave near eagle coast was the moment you found two large emerald like ores that were easily plucked out. It was as if teyvat wanted to impress you in how it could bend to your wishes so easily.
you made your way back to mondstat and headed to the location Liben was usualy found.
weaving through the busy street you found yourself before the flamboyant looking man. He was as tall as you’d thought he be but with a very chill attitude just like his in game dialogue.
“Hi! My name is Y/n. I saw your flyer and I was wondering if you’d be interested in my ores” you show him your two ores which were as large as small watermelon.
“Hmm, these will certainly do. How about 1 million mora? These fine ores must cost a hefty price no?” Liben nods with professionalism.
“Mm.. how about 1.4 million mora?” You look up at him with a pitiful look. “I worked very hard to find these ores so it would be nice if you could raise the price a bit. Of course, if you don’t want to it’s fine.”
Liben ponders for a minute before diligently responding with “how about 1.3 million mora? Will that suffice Traveller?”
“Deal!” You look up at him happily.
“Good! Let’s set this trade then”
Liben proceeds to grab three hefty bags of mora and hands it over to you as you gently hand over your ores. As Liben hands you the bags of mora you can only ponder about how to fit the into your little pouch..
well that was until a backpack symbol popped up onto your pouch.. it seems like the bag you had stolen wasn’t any ordinary bag after all. Pressing on the symbol, the back pack screen popped up like in game. Liben didn’t react nor did anyone who was passing by. It seems like this screen was only visible to you.. how neat!
placing the mora into your inventory you see the mora bar fill up. Although you’re a little guilty about guild tripping Liben into giving you an extra 300k, times are hard and with such a good opportunity you must take it! Come on look at you now, 1.3 million mora would probably last you almost a life time in teyvat, but you can never be so sure. After all, being so stable with money in your old world sure puts you on your feet now that your hard earned fortunes are of no use. The more mora, the better!
. . . . . . . . . . .
Once you finished sharing small talk with Liben after your godly trade, you decided to explore the city of freedom.
it was about 3 pm now since you spent a few hours walking out to go find ores. Now that your stable with mora the flooding thoughts of being the creator really hit you.
Surprisingly, it hasn’t been on your mind at all. But now that you’re heading to the cathedral and the venti statue, the thoughts of being treated like a divine being throws shivers down your spine. While living in luxury would be a dream of some, being stuck in a cold and quiet throne room seems just as horrible as living on the cold streets.
now that you think about it, you haven’t heard talk about the creator at all. With how little you know about yourself you can’t help but be nervous. Is there an imposter on the throne? Do the people of teyvat sacrifice human beings in your name? these thoughts can’t help but send another shiver down your spine as you finally reach the top of the long stairs.
the venti statue stood high in scale, obviously more magnificent then it could ever be in game. The crowd that surrounded the statue was much larger as well. With nuns preaching about lord barbatos and so forth. you look at the cathedral to see another nun preaching, she seemed to be talking about the creator.. it’s best if you listen in on her words.
scurrying over you manage to find a nice spot amongst the large crowd of people.
“The divine creator has yet to descend but as diligent followers we mustn’t rush their return!” The nun says loudly as a few people cheer.
“Once they descend we will finally see their divine features, features not even the best scriptures could describe.”
“We will bathe them in gold like the color of their holy blood! And we shall never kill in their name lest we sully their robes!” The nun preaches like a zealot and the crowd yet again cheers.
well, that sure answers your question. At least the people don’t kill in your name.. you couldn’t be so sure about gods though.. well it’s better than everyone doing it, that’s for sure.
The nun also said that the creator hasn’t descended yet.. which means you’re not in the imposter au! Woo hoo! Now you surely have a better chance to live as an NPC.
walking away from the crowd you decide it’s best to go look for an inn. The gothe hotel is an obvious contender but it’s taken over by the fatui.. maybe you should walk around the city a little more and decide.
heading down the stairs to the town square you sit down on a bench, now realizing the toll of walking down the large amount of steps.. how do the locals do it *sigh*
unknown to you a certain soft spoken alchemist can’t help but be captured by the sight of you. With his interest peaked he walks over to you quietly without you noticing a thing.
“Excuse me, is it alright if I sketch you?”
——————————————————————
carp bread- wasn’t sure how I was supposed to write Liben 😔👆
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beannary · 9 months
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OK so I dont really like this but this 2012 tmnt mermaid au has been driving me INSANE so here are some mermaid designs for the boys (which I might change if I draw more stuff for this au) and some lore for the au under the cut!
also Donnie is ftm and Leo is mtf and those are the facts! (Donnie did do top surgery on himself, do NOT ask me how he did that underwater safely)
(just a quick note: I am using some japanese mythos for the mermaid part but I'm also being loosey goosey with it alskjdfh)
ALSO slight tw for cannibalism? or like cannibalism adjacent behavior
There is a yokai described in Japanese literature called the ningyo, a creature that is half human and half fish. Legend says that if you capture a ningyo and eat its flesh, that you will be granted eternal life. Hamato Yoshi and Oroku Saki were familiar with these legends, though Saki always believed in them more than Yoshi. Saki believed in the legends so much that he became obsessed with finding the legendary ningyo and becoming immortal after consuming its flesh. Yoshi accompanied his brother on these ventures, more out of a sense of familiar duty and a need to watch out for his younger brother than an actual belief in the ningyo.
And of course, it just so happens that the brother who does not at all believe in the existence of yokai would be the one to find one. Yoshi encounters Tang Shen, a ningyo who has been living throughout the local freshwater river system. And suddenly Yoshi realizes that Saki's quest for murder might actually come true since apparently these ningyo are very much real. So now whenever he accompanies Saki on his hunting quests, he does everything in his ability to try to dissuade Saki from his plan, and when he realizes that isn't going to work, he starts to sabotage Saki's efforts. And Yoshi does this because well he kept in contact with Tang Shen, and the two became close friends, and son fell in love, bridging the gap between yokai and human.
They can't get married, obviously, Tang Shen is fully a yokai, but they build their lives together and eventually Tang Shen falls pregnant with their daughter Miwa. The two weren't entirely sure what to expect of their child, but Miwa turns out to be a completely normal human child.
Over the years as Yoshi and Tang Shen's love and family grew, Yoshi started pulling away from his birth family, and more noticeably, from Saki, who was you know pretty angry with Yoshi who seemingly disappeared on him with no explanation. Saki channels his anger into his search for the ningyo, and it takes three years but eventually he does finally find one.
Around three years after Miwa was born, Tang Shen and Yoshi welcome in four new kids! Quadruplets! Three boys and a girl. And these four, unlike Miwa, seem to all be fully ningyo, which very much surprised Yoshi and Tang Shen (both the fact that there were four kids and those four kids are all mermaids) but hey, they knew their genetic situation would be weird and they were fully ready to hop into raising these four.
It's only a few days after the birth of their quadruplets, so soon after that they haven't even given them names, that Saki stumbles upon the home of Yoshi and Tang Shen. And He Is Pissed. Not only did his BROTHER ABANDON him but he abandon him to start a family with this yokai? The yokai that he's been hunting all this time? And Saki, like in canon, kills Tang Shen and Miwa. (Or well you know, he kidnaps Miwa and renames her Karai but Yoshi thinks Miwa is dead)
Yoshi manages to get away with the quadruplets in the chaos, and he tries so hard to establish a new life for himself in Japan, but no matter where he goes, Saki manages to find him. Eventually Yoshi gets desperate enough to flee the country, and he finds himself in New York City!
But meanwhile back in Japan, Saki did in fact end up eating Tang Shen but idk how he realizes it but he figures out that he didnt get immortality, and so he concludes that oh, Tang Shen must have been tainted somehow by her relationship with Yoshi, which sucks because now he has to find a whole other ningyo to get immortality. Luckily he happens to know of four ningyo that he would be more than happy to kill, which is basically Saki's drive to finding and killing the Hamatos.
Anyways that's all I have so far!!!! I'm trying to think about how they would live in NYC, if they can somehow become human (in maybe like an H2O just add water situation) or if they are stuck in the water all the time.
I'm leaning towards them being able to shed their fish tails if even only for a small amount of time, just so they can still be ninjas and train on land, since I think Yoshi would still want to train them to defend themselves. I think that if they can be human for a bit, they still get dried out really easily so they can't stay out of the water for very long, probably not long enough for them to go to school full time, so they still live super isolated lives. Or maybe Yoshi figures out a way to train them to fight in the water? Idk suggestions are appreciated!
They do eventually meet April and Casey, I think April is gonna be on the swim team and so she's a fairly strong swimmer (for a human) and so she spends a lot of time in the water with the hamatos which they appreciate a lot! I think maybe Yoshi isn't a super strong swimmer so as much as he tries to spend time with his kids he can't really.
Casey is still on the hockey team and he can't swim, the hamatos try to teach him but they fully dont know how to swim with legs and so they are Bad tm swimming teachers salkdjfh.
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mediumgayitalian · 26 days
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“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She is entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, mock outraged, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Annabeth’s eyes narrow. “Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid —”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes as her grip on the Mist loosens.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding suddenly dawns on her.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys, stopped before you’re even started,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a bright grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
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azullumi · 1 year
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summary — cuddling times with you and him.
characters — kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — fluff, cuddling, established relationship, not proofread; headcanons
words — 1373
note — trying to get back to writing after like being stressed for the past few days but im fine now but anyways, have this ^^
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kaveh
He's a very cuddly man and he always have the time to cuddle, often wanting to keep you close to him even if it's just in those small and simple moments like sleeping together underneath the same sheets—thus he doesn't have any favorite position as long as he gets to feel you so closely against him.
He doesn't mind either being the big spoon or the small spoon, it all just depends on the mood to be honest. If he wishes to be comforted or protected, he'll rather be the one being held and if it's just his normal sappy mood or if he wants to become something like a protective figure to you as you try to sleep, he's going to be the big spoon.
He's so insufferably clingy, always wanting to kiss, hug, and cuddle as much as possible—he wouldn't let another day pass without him not getting to feel your warmth in his arms and being comforted as he dwells in your peace. He just loves the idea of how intimate and affectionate a simple action could be, of how it can bring two different people closer, of how a peaceful and silent moment could be so loud and be filled with love, and he loves it more because he's doing and spending it with you.
If he would be given a chance for the two of you to be one, snuggling and merging one another like puzzle pieces settling on the board and forming an image, he would instantly grab on it but this is the closest he’ll ever get and even if it's only that, he'll take it.
alhaitham
He can and he will cuddle you in any situation despite not asking for it, he just always tries to cuddle as much as he can. 
One moment, you'll be walking around the room while trying to accomplish something then the next he's pulling you towards him and you find yourself in a position where your back is facing him and he's wrapping his arms around you as he tries to fall asleep, having you as some sort of pillow that gives him all the comfort and warmth he needs. You just find yourself often being disturbed or distracted because of how needy he gets.
Taking a break from any activities or tasks like studying or just resting overall will only lead you to on a bed or a couch—or maybe on the floor if you two are fine with the cold and hard feeling of it—and being in each other's cradle, embraced and locked in one another's arms as you silently breath against one another, sharing one's thoughts, and exchanging gentle and tender words.
While snuggled in each other's embrace, he loves to talk and listen to you do so and oftentimes, cuddling times with you ends up in a discussion about any topics that could be strange or weird—yet you still entertain each other—it varies and it's a wonder that you two never seem to run out of ideas inside your head; "Have you ever thought about how a snake would walk if it has legs? Will it have two and walk while standing or will it have four or more? Honestly, how many legs will it even have?"
wanderer
Always chooses to be the big spoon, however, if the roles were to be switched and he’s the one being cradled and held in one’s arms instead, he wouldn’t mind and would, in fact, love it—although he wouldn’t outright admit it. Perhaps he had never told you about how he feels safe in your arms, being comforted by the sense of security you give him as if you’re protecting him from any harm that comes to threaten but you you could tell it from the way he just lets you wrap your arms around him without complaint and cradle him like a small child.
He can get extremely touchy, his hands not settling on a single spot and would often be roaming around your body, trailing your skin, playing with your fingers, drawing shapes on the back of your palm, and everything. He just wishes to feel all of you, every inch of you, and he takes this moment when the two of you are nestled in each other's arms as a chance.
He loves it when he sneaks his hand, especially when it's feeling cold, underneath your shirt and feeling your skin on his palm which catches you off-guard and startles you—seeing your reaction makes him chuckle every time. He wouldn't remove his hand though if you were to say so, only reasoning that he needs to keep both he and his hands warm even if it's not that cold.
He would complain how his arms are feeling sore already but try to even budge and move away and he'll raise an eyebrow at you, asking you what you are trying to do—I mean, he never said or told you to leave.
tighnari
He likes being held, he loves laying his head on your chest or burying his face on the crook where your neck meets your shoulders while you could play and twirl strands of his hair on your finger or while you rub his back and draw circles on it, he especially loves it when you massage his scalp and comb your hand through his hair.
Comfort cuddles are fairly something that would commonly happen between you two. He loves those instances wherein you’re holding him to your chest as you allow him ease himself while you lull him to sleep with the sound of your heartbeat while perhaps as you talk to him in a gentle voice.
He mostly seeks out to hug and cuddle whenever his stress levels are too high and he needs to relax himself so cuddling times often happens either during the afternoon or after his occasionally stressful patrols and duties, oftentimes when the day ends and the two of you have nothing left to do. Honestly, he looks for you when he's being overwhelmed by his feelings, whether jealousy, sadness, joy—it's just that your warmth brings him so much comfort and helps him in grounding himself.
Well, he's not the only one being comforted here, it is also you, even if it's just in a small gesture that he does while drawn close to each other. It could be the way he drags his fingers across your skin or ghosts his touch over you, in a manner that doesn't tickle you but simply in just desiring to touch your skin and feel what's underneath it.
cyno
The two of you mostly spend your time cuddling in silence and sleeping, there's no conversations being held and only rarely will it happen. However, it's not a dreadful silence nor is it an uncomfortable one but it's one of languidness and tranquility.
He doesn't move a lot in his position, only staying in one, and it makes you wonder if his body gets sore or anything because of how still he is while cuddling each other—you can offer to massage his shoulders and if he would allow you, you could feel how stiff his shoulders are and you couldn't tell if it's because of the heavy burden of the responsibilities resting on top of it or if it's how he holds you so much, so close, and so still when he wraps his arms around you.
He can cuddle you for hours and wouldn't easily let you go if you try to leave even if his hold on you isn't not that tight and even when he is also asleep—he has never told you of how he hates that feeling of absence right beside him, on the side of your bed, when he wakes up.
Cuddling, holding, and being up against each other is one thing he looks forward to in each day, he just simply adores the way you feel, the way your chest rises and falls, the feeling of your breath fanning his skin as he holds you against him, listening to he relaxed beating of your heart that gently lulls him. He just adores having you underneath the touch of his fingertips and in between his arms. 
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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naffeclipse · 6 months
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I absolutely adore every AU you come up with, but I was actually curious if you had already or were considering writing a traditional DCAxReader? Hopefully I can kick this art block soon because there is so much fanart I want to draw of your stories :) Hope your week is going well! (besides the roof disaster ^^;;;)
On another note... AUs are my brainrot and I keep thinking about that post about the large bed... and spoopy ghosts. Clipgeist? No running away from something that can follow you to the ends of the Earth. Poor Y/Ns just can't catch a break lol
I have a few canon stories with the DCA x Reader on my Ao3 but nothing as grand or long as my AUs! I do have a 'canon' story plotted but I don't know when I'll write it. Hopefully one day!
Ah, that's so exciting! I hope you can chisel that art block down hehe 
It's going good (aside from the roof ;-;) I have this week of school before we go on break for Thanksgiving and it can't come soon enough!
Shaking your hand so hard rn!! I love AUs! And a spooky ghost one? Oh ho, I've always wanted to write a domestic monster scenario!
Perhaps Y/N moves into an old, old house with steep roofs, pointed arches above the windows and doors, and a lovely porch. It's two and a half stories tall (the half story is attic space under the roof rafters) with a four-story central spired tower! All dark wood and even darker interiors. You can't desire if it's Dracula's castle or a fairytale home for the happily ever-after-ed prince and princess. It's even got a secret underground tunnel! What more do you need when flipping a home? You love restoration and you intend to keep all its gothic charm while updating it to be, well, livable.
It's also incredibly cheap! Like, stupid cheap, for something that should be incredibly pricey for its prestige style and historical value. Not that you've ever looked a gift horse in the mouth, but even you have second thoughts before ultimately snatching up the house key.
The first night is always unsettling—maybe you hear a voice whisper in your ear despite it being dead silent and there's not a soul for miles, but you'll brush that off as getting spooked by old ghost stories your brain conjures up within the ornate decorated rooms.
From there, things get stranger and stranger still. Your paintbrush is moved and you know you didn't set it there because of the wet paint dripping onto the floor. The electricity is ever fickle, turning off at the most opportune moments during the night, like when you swear you saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway, all thin and scraggly with a ghostly smile and an inhuman head framed with wavering energy that almost seems to glow like embers in the dark!
Still, you continue your repairs and restorations, sometimes softly talking to yourself out loud and talking to the house like it's a wounded animal you intend to restore back to its fittest with all the love you can pour out of your heart. Places need love, too.
The most obnoxious thing is that you can't access the tower—the door is always locked, and no matter what key you try, it refuses to budge. You don't dare risk causing damage by prying it open, but you swear you'll get into that tower one day. There's got to be treasure inside with how mysteriously it stands, just out of your reach. Though, you've mostly put it aside for now. Whenever you jingle keys in the lock, you swear you hear a voice grow angry with you, and the hallway becomes so cold you can see your breath.
So, yeah, you're saving that for later.
The pivotal moment of you even considering a haunting is one night when you find yourself overwhelmed and stressed from the ever-growing list of chores and how everything is falling apart faster than you can fix it. You dissolve on the living room floor into thick tears. You're usually so put together, even when alone. You hate crying. There's no one to hold you together except yourself, so why fall apart in the first place?
Your little moment of getting it out is interrupted when a quilt falls over your shoulders. A soft, heavy quilt of midnight skies and dotted pale blue stars that was never in this room.
You leap to your feet, quilt falling away, and call out in classic horror victim fashion, "Who's there?" but no one answers. In frozen terror, you stare at the room, expecting something, anything to jump out or scream at you, but it's so, so quiet. All is still, like apologetic comfort.
That couldn't have happened. No draft, no forgetfulness could explain how a quilt was draped over you as if by a concerned friend.
You stare at the quilt and decide that you've had a long day. You go to your room, unable to relax even once you're under the covers, feeling something cold and misty above your bed.
When you wake in the morning, that starry quilt is draped over your lying form. You did not put it there.
Something or someone else tucked it around you.
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lurkingshan · 3 months
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Dead Friend Forever is a Marvel of Mystery Writing
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I haven’t been watching Dead Friend Forever live, because I am not always that into the slasher genre and I figured I would wait to hear whether it holds up before jumping in. I admit, I was a bit dubious about a drama sustaining a slasher narrative for 12 entire weeks and didn’t want to spend time on something that might be too shallow to sustain and would end up falling apart. I basically told bestie @wen-kexing-apologist to vet it for me and holler if I needed to start paying attention. And a few weeks ago, they started poking me with increasing intensity, along with a few other friends, because the writing was holding up better than they could believe. I started asking questions, and once @ginnymoonbeam mentioned that Sammon was the writer, it all started to click and I dove into a binge to catch up.
And they were right! This show is excellent, and its strength is sourced in an incredibly strong script from a writer who knows how to construct a longform mystery. Because it turns out, that’s what this show actually is. How do you sustain a slasher for 12 weeks? By embedding a deeper mystery within the slasher framework and pacing your story so that the entire middle delivers a backstory narrative that is even more compelling than the current events. This show is expertly structured to grab your attention and then get you deeply emotionally invested in the coming bloodbath, which is crucial for a slasher to feel like it has any stakes. Let me also note that the excellent writing here is supported by extremely smart direction and editing and some standout performances from young actors. I am going to focus on the writing here because that’s what I do, but it should be said that this whole production is all around excellent. 
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So let’s talk about why the writing in Dead Friend Forever works so well! Great drama mysteries should support two kinds of engagement from the viewer: 
no thoughts head empty engagement from the people who just want to be pulled along for the ride and be constantly surprised
red string board theory engagement for the people who enjoy finding clues and trying to solve the mystery in advance. 
It’s actually really fucking hard to thread this needle as a writer, because it requires seeding strong enough clues that attentive viewers could reasonably guess some of the big reveals, but not giving away so much that you are unable to surprise them. A reveal in a good mystery should have you saying “oh my god WHAT” and “of course, that makes perfect sense” at the same time. And the best mysteries support the viewer being able to go back and rewatch, find new meaning they missed the first time, and realize every single thing that happened adds up. A tight mystery has no loose ends and no false steps; it never lies to the viewer, it only works to draw your attention where it wants it at any given point in the story.
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Dead Friend Forever does this masterfully with several of its reveals, but I will highlight the biggest example: the reveal of Phee and Non’s relationship in episode 7. In the first four episodes of the show, the story lets us in on a few crucial facts: Phee is newer to this friend group (along with Tan and White), he was not present for whatever went down with Non three years ago, he has some kind of fucked up not!friends with benefits relationship with Jin that involves lots of sexual tension and dick biting, and he seems interested in figuring out what the hell happened once all these dudes start acting crazy about the videos. The string board theorists had enough to go on there to reasonably guess that he was intentionally trying to uncover the truth—but not why—and the no thoughts head empty crowd could just vibe, enjoying his scenes with Jin and wondering how exactly he ended up hooking up with him and getting involved with this group of people he doesn’t even seem to like.
Once we get to the backstory and see Non’s narrative, additional clues emerge, like the existence of both an older brother and a mysterious sweetheart that is only saved as [heart emoji] in Non’s phone. No thoughts head empty is over here going huh I wonder who they’re gonna be and hey when are the rest of the characters going to show up; string board theorists now have two clear options for how Phee could tie in to Non’s story and why he might care enough to investigate, but no one knows for sure. So when the show ended episode 6 with Phee running into Non’s room and began episode 7 with The Most Effective Five Minute BL Of All Time, everything clicked into place. No thoughts head empty got to experience a very pleasant shock moment, the string board theorists got to feel satisfied that they figured out at least part of the reveal, everyone got to enjoy an unexpected shot of romance in the middle of this stressful narrative, and there were still parts of Phee’s motives and involvement with this group that we didn’t understand and would require additional reveals. That is great mystery writing in a nutshell.
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And it’s not only the mystery construction that makes the writing here so smart. It’s also the way Sammon is weaving in tons of social commentary, embedding Thai cultural and religious values, incorporating complicated crimes with lots of players in the mix that somehow don’t get confusing, and drawing complex and nuanced characters whose choices and behavior you understand even if you find them abhorrent. It’s not easy to make a viewer both despise a character and still care what happens to them; when you write a story about despicable people you run the risk of inspiring apathy in the audience, which is a death knell for a mystery. We have to be invested for this story to work. We have to feel deep empathy for Non to the point that we fully support axe murdering his bullies, but we also have to be interested enough in the bullies and why they behave the way they do to watch 12 weeks of them running around being awful to each other and harming everyone in their paths. And Non, too, gets to have real complexity. He is not a perfect little Mary Sue who never does anything wrong. He makes big impulsive mistakes, and seeks attention and affection from the wrong people, and lies to the ones he loves, and doesn’t always ask for help when he needs it. He is a flawed human being and that’s so important, because he is the center of this story and we need him to feel real.
In conclusion: holy shit. I tip my hat to you, Dr. Sammon, and I am very excited to be on this ride for the final four episodes. 
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