#they're different kinds of grief but they cut me so deeply

[pynkhues]

Tell me more about kenstewy and eye contact?

It's actually not even just a Kendall and Stewy thing to be honest, I'm broadly fascinated by the way Kendall avoids eye contact and the different ways people deal with that, because I think it says a lot about certain dynamics, and not even just necessarily dynamics with Kendall. This whole cast is made up of such incredible physical performers, so getting to see them bounce off each other and respond to a behaviour like this is just a lot of fun to unpack.

In particular at the moment, I've been a little obsesed with seeing the parallels between Roman and Logan's physicality, because on the one hand, they're super different – Roman can't sit still, he exudes this energy that somehow manages to be both anxious and overtly confident – but fascinatingly, he often is physical with Kendall in similar ways to Logan.

Everyone knows this one, I think:

But I'd add:

And in particular because it's when Kendall's avoiding eye contact:

I could ramble about this a lot, but I'll spare you, haha, and just say that I think it's this sort of fascinating embodiment of how Roman has learnt gesture and physicality from his father, and that I think it's especially pertinent that in all these examples, it's when Roman's feeling a sort of baser emotion – anger and self-righteousness, grief or frustration – where he pivots towards handling his brother in the way their father would.

(Shiv and Stewy beneath the cut)

Interestingly, I think Shiv adopts a part of their dad too in that sense, but I do think it's a pretty different for her. I think especially of that scene in 2.04 where she tells Kendall to look at her:

While I do imagine Logan's said that to Kendall over the years, likely particularly when he was young, I think it carries different weight for Shiv. I think for her, Kendall not looking at her during serious conversations ties deeply to her self-esteem which ultimately means that she associates him not looking at her as him not seeing her. I don't think that's what it is from Kendall's point of view at all, but I do think it kind of ties into that sense of Kendall and Shiv being two sides of the same coin.

Kendall desperately needs his siblings to like him, and Shiv desperately needs them to respect her, and the way that manifests in their particular push-pull is so ripe. I have a lot of thoughts on this more specifically too, haha, but I do think there's this particularly fascinating contrast in this sense where Kendall so desperately wants to see his siblings in s3, particularly at his birthday party, and they pollute that with the letter and the birthday party machinations, and Shiv so desperately wants to truly be seen by them in a way that makes her feel like their equal, and they pollute that through Kendall's insults in 3.02 and then hijacking her moment, through Connor telling her everyone at Waystar was just entertaining her, and through Roman - - well. Everything he did in s3 to her really.

Where Stewy's different again I think really speaks to his character too in the sense that he finds ways to get Kendall to look at him, but it's not through physically moving him like Roman and Logan, or demanding like Shiv, but he tends to chase his gaze. He pushes himself back into Kendall's line of vision.

He does it a few times throughout the seasons, but the most obvious example to me is really in 1.03:

He doesn't even just meet Kendall's gaze, he chases it down in a way that totally affects his posture and physical shape. I think it speaks a lot to Stewy's nature (and to the way Arian is such a brilliant physical performer too), but also his relationship and familiarity to Kendall.

He knows how to meet Kendall where he's at, even when Kendall doesn't really want to be met, and it shows how his charisma and ability to be what and who people need has gotten him to where he is.

It's a fascinating thing to unpack!

#sorry it took me so long to get to this one anon! #it got swallowed up in my inbox for a minute #a v fun one to think about though #this cast is sooo good #and they're all really responsive to each other #which adds so much texture #kendall + logan #kendall + roman #kendall + shiv #logan + roman #kendall x stewy #kendall roy #hbo succession #succession meta #welcome to my ama

[mister-eames]

1/? ok so i can't really remember exactly what i put in the first message but i did say that i was gonna miss your 30daysofinception posts because they're so fun & i love seeing your opinion on things! so because of that i thought i'd ask you more headcanon questions!1. Thoughts on Arthur's background? Was he poor? Orphaned? Only child? Nice family? & what city is he from!! I love the idea of Arthur actually having a strong accent & learning to hide it but NOT because he's ashamed of where he

comes from but more to separate arthur BD (Before Dreamshare) from Arthur AD (After Dreamshare)

LOVE this ask nonnie. I am also going to miss the @inception30daychallenge! The mods over there are amazing and make it such a fun event!!!

Okay, so, Arthur to me, is a born and bred New Yorker. Strong accent, NY Mets lovin', bears a big attitude to hide a big heart kinda guy.

I think he grew up with very little money. Was a precocious child. Raised by a single mother in NYC in public housing, and was an only child. I think he had to look after his mother a lot growing up, she wasn't well and he was often left alone to care for and entertain himself. He cared for his mom very deeply - when she was 'on' and well she was the best mother in the world, they had the best adventures, and when she was 'off', well, he still loved her, even when she couldn't get out of bed.

One time they lived in an apartment next to grumpy old lady. She would scold him often because of his bad manners (running, raising his voice in the hall, cursing etc) but she would always give him advice as if he were an adult. She was old school and didn't suffer fools, kind of like the surly grandma he never had. Maybe he'd go over there some afternoons after school and try and read the book from her bookshelves, dropping by unannounced. It was only a year or two before they moved again but he remembers those years better than most.

Oof I have to stop there, I could write a 20k fic on childhood Arthur.

Not to say that I don't love every iteration of Arthur's family/history I've read, I love all of them!!! I'm just obsessed with this clean-cut but clearly rough-around-the-edges Arthur we see in the movie, and the idea that he cultivated, or grew into this more refined image coming from a different world entirely. Arthur looks and mostly sounds educated, cultured, etc, but he has some cracks he either doesn't care to conceal, or can't help. I'm pretty sure in the movie he's the only one who actually swears at anyone directly 'hey, asshole', like it had fell out of his mouth every other day.

He's a gentle man. In the movie we see he is so, so gentle with those he thinks need it!! He has a little damsel in distress complex and he's worked on it! But how that gentleness had to overcome so much anger and grief is what makes my brain stand at attention.

#inception #arthur inception #oooof sorry nonnie this is probably more than you bargained for #but i could talk about arthur ALL DAY #i love all headcanons of him #big family small family orphan estranged whatever #i just love arthur #i am normal about him i promise

[moe-broey]

This one is a little more recent, I saw that an artist was drawing a bunch of other people's interpretation/AUs of Chara and it made me really nostalgic for my old AU from highschool (artist was @ //egg-baby-official in case you wanted to check out their work! Slashes are so I don't actually tag them LMFAO)

But yeah, basically the idea behind it was "What if they fused. Plant zombie kid. They died and came back wrong and share a body and mind now and they just have to deal with that."

Some details under the cut if it interests you!

If I were to keep writing it more seriously, I'd be mindful about the fact that the "Flowey-fication" of Asriel was something that happened over a long span of time, gradually through many, many resets. I'd probably write him closer to Asriel, while exploring how he no longer experiences empathy/does not feel emotions like he used to. I would treat it much more subtly than I would here lmfao, but you know. This is just a proof of concept, I suppose!

As for Chara, I'd write them to be, at their core, good natured with good intentions. But they are very, very broken. From the abuse they've endured at the hands of humans, to how they process things differently than most, to their fragile mental stability. They have little to no capacity to process the emotions of others, as it's too much to manage even their own. All of these factors play a part in How They Are -- which is, well. Kind of a jerk sometimes! I'd try to balance all of this -- their humor, their grief, put-on smiles and real smiles, how they can be mean spirited without even realizing it, how they're deeply devoted to the only people who have ever shown them kindness (the Dreemurs).

Something something they're in the void. Gaster is there. You know how it is w Chara AUs

#undertale #i'm probably not gonna keep writing it but it was very fun to revisit if only for a moment! #chara #flowey #my art

[tokoyamisstuff]

appetence.

[n.] an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or natural bond

Synopsis: Doctor Strange is hunting a Succubus wreaking havoc among New York - but soon begins to question whether she is truly an enemy.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Smut with Plot, Angst, Swearing

There it was. This time, he was sure.

With help of the trail of corpses you had scattered throughout the whole city, there was no doubt.

A hazardous presence was lingering everywhere, laying like a thick haze on these usually quiet hallways. Strange knew this ancient library, bearing knowledge only for those who had been educated in the mystic arts.

Now however, the silence hit different.

Fighting in a familiar terrain would make things a lot easier for the sorcerer, for no matter how arrogantly as he enjoyed showing off his skill, he was no man to let his enemies suffer longer than necessary.

At least in this secluded place, location hidden from the outside world of the city, no civilians would be dragged into this mess.

Just a flick of his fingers was enough to cast a camouflage spell, making the mage blind in with his surroundings until he could make out a proper impression of the situation at hand.

And what Stephen observed as he entered the great reading hall could be described as nothing less than a massacre.

Finally, he had found you - the menace disturbing New York's spiritual peace.

The sorcerer had caught the intruder in quite the precarious scenery, clothes almost fully ripped off of you as you crouched above the lifeless body of the librarian, skin shimmering ever so slightly in the moonlight. You were covered in several bruises and cuts, some scratches right where the fabric of your shirt had been teared. Blood was dripping from your fangs, breathing heavily through parted lips.

Looks like the old mytic still put up quite of a fight, as it seemed.

"Reveal yourself, sorcerer" an eerily calm voice spoke, her velvet tone sending shivers down his spine. "I can feel your presence."

Strange felt a pull at the tone of her voice, like the call of a siren luring in their victims. For the fraction of a second he was unable to withstand the temptation, stepping into the dim candle light of the room.

While he was admittedly taken aback by the mesmerizing beauty of the feminine demon right in front of him, he wouldn't let his guard down that easily.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but wonder about the subtle grief present in your features.

"Isn't that usually the part where the dark spirit attacks the hero?" Stephen scoffed, more than unimpressed at this cruel murder of yours that blemished this holy place.

Quite the opposite, even: He seemed amused, almost thrilled to once again prove himself superior and be victorious in his fight against evil forces.

"It's not what it looks like. It happened in self-defense."

"That's what they all say when they're facing a far stronger foe." Strange laughed at that ridiculous excuse, his dark chuckles echoing through the room. "But evidently, your kind lies with every breath."

Your eyes flickered from the dead man at your feet to the living one boastfully circling you with his arms crossed, hidden behind his back.

"Was he a friend of yours?"

That question caught him off guard, furrowing his brows in confusion. "More like an acquaintance."

"Oh" you whispered almost convincingly regretful. "How unfortunate. In this case, I am sorry."

"Don't fool me!" The man now seeme irritated, enraged even as his aura shifted to emmit a dangerous presence. "You should not take me lightly, fiend!"

His stance became more threatening now, circles of runes forming at the movement of his hand's command. Serpentine eyes narrowed at the mage, sighing deeply as this night wouldn't grant you the peace and quiet you had wished for.

"What is your brief insight into the mystic arts compared to a lifetime as a magical being?" Your words shot daggers at the confident man's ego - yet much to his confusion, your demeanour showed no ill intend at all. Quite the opposite, docile even. "You're clearly in a disadvantage here, so for your own sake I politely ask you to let it be."

"As long as you continue wreaking havoc in the city I have sworn an oath to protect, I am afraid this isn't possible."

"You should know your place!" The Doctor unleashed a powerful spell at your direction, gifting him a cheeky wink of your eye as your silhouette disappeared, evading the attack quicker than Strange's human eyes could follow. "Not bad, mortal."

"That's Doctor Strange for you!" he gnarled in his hurt pride, only having you chuckle at the play of words. "Yeah, it really is strange..."

It was almost like you teleported, reappearing at the edge of the window after another attempted strike towards you - observing the sorcerer warily yet with great interest.

Were you mocking him? "Don't just dodge, you've killed so many people. So fight back!"

His attacks were impressive yet with no lethal intention - this alone revealed more than enough about his character...

...and the fact that he - obviously a man like all of your victims - endured your presence for so long without losing his mind bordered on a miracle.

"You're different" was your plain conclusion, a tender smile tugging at the edge of your lips. "Take care."

"Wait-!" Stephen rushed towards the window, his cloak hurrying after you - but you had alread leaned backwards out of the opened frame, falling into nothingness and disappearing into a starless night.

"Lest we meet again, Mister Strange."

Ever since this encounter, Stephen couldn't get rid of that alluring voice of yours, echoing in his head every single day.

It was extraordinary hard during nighttime, with vivid scenarios haunting his dreams that only got worse as time passed.

Of you bound by his spirit whip, writhing beneath him and completely at his mercy as he'd fuck that insolence right out of you. The way your cunt would throb around his cock whenever his fingers would dig into your airpipe, effectively wiping that cheeky grin of yours right away.

How his name would sound in that filthy voice of yours when you'd cum on his cock, all submissive and ruined by him.

They would all end up the same, with Strange jolting up from his sleep - sweat dripping out of every pore and cock so achingly hard that he would need to take care of it.

"Fucking whore..." he groaned between gritted teeth as he furiously stroked himself, coming into his hand. "What are you doing to me?!"

Not only have you humiliated him, but now you were also invading his thoughts! How dare you?!

And over time, the dreams became more obscure, like an illness corrupting his mind. So much more sinisterand violent that Strange slowly but steadily started not only questioning his own morals, but even his sanity.

You were always there, lurking in a dark corner of his mind, feeding selfish desires Strange had never doubted to control before - until now. Growing paranoid of everyone visiting the Sanctum - someone reading minds would not be the most extraordinary thing to ever happen in here.

When did he become this twisted?

To find peace of mind again, he would need to find you - but the path towards his goal was well hidden and full of dangers. Apparently, you had exceled at erasing your tracks for however many decades your pointless existence had been going already...

...however, one dark force always draws the attention of others - and soon, the inexperienced mage found himself cornered by several packs of vile creatures whose powers were beyond his understanding.

"Hey, wake up!"

Strange's blood was flushing like acid in his body, the vein in his temple throbbing painfully when he awoke. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, shooting frequent jolts of agony througout his whole system...

...yet the first thing he laid eyes upon was the most unexpected: You.

Initially, the Doctor's senses were on high alert, immediately getting into a defensive position after the adrenaline made him snap out of his unconsciousness.

"Where-where are the other foes?"

Only now Stephen took notice of the madeshift patches on his arms and the huge tear on his chest, the cloak of levitation covering his body like a blanket instead of attacking you - since it did not see you as an enemy.

His eyes followed the direction you pointed towards, seeing nothing than lifeless remains dissolving into blackened ashes. "You're welcome."

For a second he felt rage boiling like bile inside of his guts again, his hurt pride accusing you to mock his lacking abilities - but it all vanished as soon as he saw something else: Worry, written clearly all over your face.

The sorcerer squinted his eyes in suspicion, scanning your form for any hint of a lie - yet he found nothing than genuine tranquility.

He swallowed harshly at the intense indecipherable emotion in your stare, feeling his cock twitching just by looking at you. "I demand answers."

"I've already given you one last time. I do not kill willingly." Having kept watch over him from afar, you would now get on your feet again, making your leave. "And you seem like a honorable man. That's why I saved you."

You did not want to acknowledge that the man had been able to re-ignite an ember inside of you that you had long thought gone out, unwilling to raise your hopes after all those disappointments.

So many dead ends to your questions, countless attempts to change the direction of your life for naught...

...but now, for the first time, there was an irregularity. A systemic error, an impossible digit in a yet unsolved equation.

And still, full of dread of what you could awaken inside of him, you concluded it's for the best to not drag this person into your mess.

"Don't you dare leaving like that again..." he now commanded harshly, shouting after you. Still injured and holding his side, face contorting in pain, he swung his spirit whip at you with the last ounce of strenght.

It wrapped tightly around your wrist, yet another one effectively trapping your whole body in it's hold. All of a sudden your calm facade dropped, becoming desperate in your attempt to wriggle out of the restraints.

"Stop!" you cried out frantically, with an urgency even Strange had to acknowledge as something else than plain surviving instinct.

You were afraid - yet not for your own safety.

He could see it in your eyes, in the way your voice faded into nothing but a whisper that something was off. "Please, you mustn't touch me..."

In this instant, Stephen's ropes disappeared, his voice soft and somewhat sympathetical. "Why?"

As far as his knowledge went, you were most likely a Succubus: Those beings were considered lower-ranked demons, known for preying only on weak-minded men. Their stunning physique would seduce and turn their victims into mindless minions, working only for the personal gain of their master - until they either die from exhaustion, or are devoured eventually.

"You probably think I'm one of the Succubi, but I didn't come into existence as such" you explained and once again Strange found himself fooled by your harmless appearance, captivated by his own curiosity...

...yet instead of fleeing as soon as you'd escape those shackles, you'd leap a safe distance away from him, continuing telling your story.

"That means, I don't even remember what i was before all this. Maybe my former self deserved all of this, who knows" You rubbed the sore skin of your wrists, where his whips had wrung around you, letting out a bitter chuckle. "All I know is that I was cursed. Men shall fall for me with an obsessive lust, trying to force themself on and afterwards kill me."

Deeply ashamed, you found yourself unable to look into his eyes - yet still felt his gaze boring into you. "You're the only exception - the first one in several centuries."

Nonetheless, you assumed that even the strongest of wills would succumb if they were to have any physical contact with you. "Anyway, you should refrain from touching me in any way though...just to be sure."

Timidly, you shifted your weight from one foot to another, figuring it would not hurt to be so polite as to give him your name in return. "They call me Y/N, a last name I do not possess."

"Y/N..." He tasted your name on his tongue as he tugged his goatee in deep thought, his orbs darkening in a way not unfamiliar to you.

You should've never let down your guard in the first place - this man has probably just been affected slower than others.

One day he will definetly snap.

"Forgive my transgressions, Y/N." Much to your disbelief, the rather arrogant sorcerer brought himself to bow down before you, head facing the ground as he uttered an apology. "I may havee seeked you out with the wrong impression and solely for revenge - but my judgement of you has been wrong as it seems."

From what you've seen of him until now, you would've never thought this man to be able to admit a mistake, let alone be so courteous about it - and it made you flabbergasted beyond belief. "How would you know it's not a trick?"

"This lie would in no way be beneficial to you. And besides, I'm an expert at human nature." Strange looked at your much smaller form, adding a quiet "Well, and...other creatures."

You laughed.

Loud and wholeheartedly, filling this rather dark, bizarre scenery with the bright sound of your voice. "Your name really says it all, Strange."

Forming bonds with people never came quite natural to Stephen, however with you he felt a certain pull, an invisible connection that made it easier for him to warm up to you eventually.

Maybe he really was caught in your curse already, a side-effect robbing him of his usual distrust.

"Why won't you accompany me to the Sanctum Sanctorum?" he suggested out of a whim, opening a portal without you finding the time to object. "I might find a cure to lift this curse within our ancient scrips."

"As an act of what, altruism?" Your alarm bells rang right away, at this almost-stranger offering help without wanting anything in return. "I've seen to deep into the endless pit of humans souls to believe in pure intentions like that."

Now it was Stephen's turn to smirk, for even his cynical, pessimist self was convinced of good and right things still existing in this world after all. Heroes, for example - and he proudly called himself one of them. "Let me prove you otherwise."

You wanted to believe him, you honestly did - for whatever reason you wouldn't know...

...so without a second thought, you entered the portal

"So you really are Master of the Mystic Arts, huh..." you murmured as you took in your surroundings. No wonder he emitted this almost limitless aura of energy - and that after such a short time of being exposed to the spiritual world.

"Don't worry." He heeded after you with firm steps, noticing your growing unease. "I usually work alone, and even my occasional visitors cannot step foot into my chambers."

"Mhh...thank you." You ceased to answer any more than that, busying yourself with examining indecipherable relics scattered among old furniture. Strange on the other side plunged into work right away, summoning several immensely thick books via telekinesis. "You might want to take a shower in the meantime."

"Oh please" he frowned at your judging look, almost hurt at the worry in it. "I am many things, but certainly not that. You can have my bed, I'll sleep on the sofa for as long as you're here."

When you finally overcame your own hesitation and chose to enjoy the first bubble bath in what felt like an eternity, you couldn't help but feeling immense gratitude for this fraction of normalcry.

The Doctor on the other side of the wall was able to relax as well, sinking down in his heavy armchair as he started reading the first paragraph of the title 'Curses And Their Reversals'.

Now that he hought about it, you looked pretty distraught from the very beginning. And still: After everything you've been through, you were still able to preserve your humanity.

Who knew what you've been through all those decades, inevitable tragedies happening through your very presence even though you gave it our best to avoid it?

It was hard for him to even think about what horrific experiences you had to endure, immeasurable anguish following your every step - together with the knowledge that you could trust no one, and everone you'd ever chose to interact with would be doomed either way.

What a lonely life that was - and Stephen would lie if he'd claim to not know this feeling.

"Done." Ever since our arrival you were rather quiet, almost shy compared to your confident self he got to know. You probably had to become this way in order to survive in this harsh world, though.

As weird as it may sound, but Strange wondered if anyone had ever seen the real you, and not the mask you had put on just as he did all the time.

Admittedly, no one ever did. Neither were they able to acknowledge you as anything else than a threat or an object to project their feral lust onto, nor could anyone spend more than several minutes in the same room without one of you being killed by the other.

It was hard to imagine as Strange saw you now, sheepishly letting yourself into his study, unsure what was appropriate to do as a guest. "Take a seat. Do you want some tea?"

You nodded quietly, gifting him a grateful smile in return as you warmed yourself up with the liquid, wearing an oversized shirt of his. "I don't deserve your kindness" you thought out loud, knees pulled to your chest as you sunk into the fabric of the sofa.

"And I wouldn't have taken you with me if that was the case" Strange scolded you without looking up from his book. "You're far away from being beyond help, believe me. I've seen way worse."

This opportunity, even if just a safe place to rest and a few days of peace and comfort were more than you could ever ask for...

...but would the benefits of your stay really outweight the risks in long term?

You just knew it was too good to be true.

Not only did you have a presentiment of some sort, no - you could physically feel the shift in Strange's behavior the closer the two of you became.

It started almost unnoticeable, with his subtle stare lingering on you so often, you were sure of it's preservance even when you did not meet his eyes. You knew that kind of look and it's meaning all too well - and it sent shivers down your spine to think about the possibility.

You could hear his breathy moans from the other room at night, arousal spreading between your legs as you witnessed him touching himself at the thought of you.

With your intoxicating pheromones everywhere, it must be sweet torture to subdue the temptation of just having his ways with you. After all, that altered physique of you was shaped to have men mindlessly taking from you - leaving part of you empty and scatterd afterwards.

Doctor Strange was witty and incredibly powerful - more than anyone you had ever encountered throughout your prolongued life. It was obvious that he was just holding back, even though determined to sacrifice everthing for the safety of this world if he needs to.

And you had thought about it many times now - how a fight with an unhinged and deteriorated version of himself would end...

...yet you refused to believe that Stephen Strange would be able to harm you in any way. If you were to taint this literal angel of a man, you could never forgive yourself.

"Good evening, Doctor." You announced your presence to the sorcerer, a white gown barely covering your hips as you tiptoed across the great room - towards the souce of the music.

"Just call me Stephen" he dismissed your politeness, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze quickly wandered up and down your body, stuck on those delicate curves of yours. "We're way beyond that"

The music had stopped as soon as he took notice of your presence, hands hovering above the tiles and a little embarassed of his disability.

"Sorry for disturbing." Strange had never sat at the piano until now, so you thought it to serve as decoration only. "I didn't know you could play."

"I could, before the accident. Playing an instrument is great practice for a surgeon." What a farce, he thought as he looked upon his trembling hands, unable to keep them from moving against his will. "Now they're useless."

"I don't think so, Stephen." His gaze softened at the sheer adoration in your voice, the honest affection you coat his name in. "You're so much more than that. Those skilled hands of yours have protected so many people - and they will continue to do so, just in a different way."

"Shit..." he grumbled as he realized how vulnerable he became towards you - and damn, it took everything inside of him to not relenting his desire to touch you.

Not in any indecent way - but solely to reciprocate the warmth that you had brought into his heart.

So many nights the two of you had relentlessly attempted to break the spell, in all ways hidden in the knowledge of the Sanctum. Every single time you stepped into one of his magic circles, his magic had encoated you like a familiar embrace, over and over again yet without any results.

In the end, you gave it up completely, choosing to stay here at the sanctum - with the sorcerer that had dissociated from society just as much as you had, in shared loneliness.

After all, you shouldn't read too much into his generosity. Stephen Strange was the first and only man that had ever seen you as a person before - so it's completely normal to feel this way about him, right?

Things were better this way, and you were glad as it was now - the sorcerer however refused to give you up...

...even if it meant putting himself in danger.

"May I?" The piano now started to play by itself at Stephen's power commands, who now turned his attention fully to you. "Stephen, this isn't safe-"

"Don't worry." The man towered in front of you as he lifted his arms and you mirrored his movements - hands and bodies ghosting over another without ever closing the gap. "Trust me."

Your heart flattered at the sudden proximity, inexperienced feet following his lead as you swayed over the wooden floor - and you wished for time itself to stop so this could go on forever...

...and as the music stopped, you found yourself unable to withstand the heat of this moment - arms now wrapped tightly around the mage's chest.

Just like that, the atmosphere darkened as you could only despair in disbelief of your own actions.

That was it - you had ruined this perfectly good man. There was no going back from your curse turning him into a mindless puppet now that your malicious self had touched him.

He would kill you - if not during the act, then certainly afterwards.

And still, you did not flee or fight, instead relishing in this dangerous closeness that felt better than anything you did ever experienced in life - even if it would be the death of you.

But hey, ceasing to exist might just be the solution you were too blind to see all along in your search for a salvation. It was your fault for having let it go so far, sacrificing innocent people instead of just giving in to your fate a long time ago.

Ultimatively, it would be an honor to die at Stephen's hands - even if you were to burden him with that responsibility. You should smile, no matter what he'd do now, so he wouldn't feel bad after awakening from this trance.

Tears wettened his shirt as you pressed your face against his having chest, clearly feeling his tensed self fighting the inevitable. "I'm so sorry..."

"What for?"

Your eyes snapped open in shock at his response, shaking all over as Strange began to move again - his slim fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his oceanic eyes.

"S-Stephen?" Your voice cracked, falling into overwhelmed whimpers as you felt his serene hands laying on your waist, reassuringly caressing your back.

The man was making himself appear as harmless as humanly possible, grinning both bright and boastful at you as he queezed the flesh of your shoulders ever so slightly. "Told you I'm not giving in to such inferior instincts."

...or perhaps, other sentiments had a much more meaningful effect on the sorcerer.

Was this what one would call fate?

A loud sob echoed through the otherwise strained silence, until you grabbed the collar of his cloak and got him to your height - lips gracing his ever so slightly.

Within a heartbeat, Stephen's lips crushed over yours as he pulled you close, tongues intertwining in a heated dance. He groaned deeply inside your mouth, lips and fingers eagerly exploring every inch of your body.

"Y/N..." Strange whispered as he pulled away, his knuckles brushing your cheeks. "Are you alright with this?"

This kiss alone had you left on the edge, starving with an unbearable desire throbbing between your thighs only he could quench.

Finally, you could let yourself go.

"I-I..." The intensity of his stare had left you with weak knees - so protective and full of fondness that you didn't even dream to ever experience.

You were finally sure of it now: Doctor Strange had only your best intention in mind. He would rather drop dead than hurting you, this much you knew.

"I want you, Stephen."

You invitingly batted your lashes at him, choking on a moan as he firmly cradled you in his arms. "Tell me whenever I need to stop, okay?"

"Mhh..." Never before you had actually a say in this matter, let alone were able to enjoy this act - and it made you speechless.

Stephen's hand slipped under your dress, running upwards the flesh of your hips as he lifted you onto the edge of the massive working desk.

"Ste-phen!" you gasped as he pulled your panties aside, revealing your dripping folds.

"That's Master for you" he mumbled into his beard, swiftly dragging his tongue across them and savouring the taste of your slick. "So pretty, wet and ready for me..."

"Patient, darling..." He pulled away and you whined at his teasing, bucking your hips closer to his crotch to ease the need in your lends. "Let us enjoy this."

You arched your back as two of Stephen's fingers parted your lips, gently stretching your core. Fucking into you, feeling the way your walls constricted around his fingertips until he led them to your mouth, making you taste yourself as you kissed his scarred hands.

His mouth was slightly agape as cautious eyes observed every tiny of your reactions, enthralled with the way your body melted to his.

Strange was determined to replace all those heinous memories of yours with pure plasure through his touch alone.

"Master, I- ahh~" You clutched onto him as his shaft teased your entrance, thumb slowly circling your clit as he pushed himself inside. Several books fell to the ground with the impact of his movement, making you cry out with every deep thrust.

It was unbearable hot, as if you were burning alive with need for him - your Stephen.

Stephen teared on the cleavage on the dress, watching awestruck at the way your tits spilled out of your dress, the way they bounced when he took you. He catched one with his palm, nudging the nipple ever so slightly that it stiffened under his touch.

Your silky voice was like music gracing his ears, ruined only by his own, animalistic grunts accenting your heavenly ecstatic moans.

"I love you" Strange declared veraciously, pulling out completely just to harshly push inside you again, as if to claim you as his.

He'd repeat this movement with every affirmation, touch imprinting every word like a poem on your delicate skin. "I love your voice; your smile; your gentle soul; how your eyes light up whenever you see me."

Your world was hazy, vision blurring in and out of focus as you clawed into his back, holding onto him for dear life.

"I love the way you look at me like I'm the best fucking thing in the world." He buried himself in the crook of your neck, hot pants making the thin hair there stand up. "And what that makes out of me."

"I love you too, Stephen!" you exclaim like a sacred prayer, preaching and begging his name as he rolls his hips around you faster. The knot in your guts began to tighten, orgasm building up - pulsing in your head, chest, everywhere.

"Say it again." His breathing hitched, building himself up while his hips slammed into yours, pupils blown wide looking at you. "Fuck, say it- please..."

"I love you, Stephen Strange!" you cried out, unable to stop as soon as those words fist left your lips. "I love you, love you, love-"

All-consuming pleasure surrounded both of you, the peak hitting you hard as Strange rode you through your high, spilling deep inside you as your walls clamped down on him. You can feel him filling you, painting your insides white.

For a sheer moment, when you came down from your high, your mind catched up on your body. Reality crept to taint this recent event, and you panicked. He could still-

No.

What were you thinking? This man would go to any lenghts for your sake. No curse could blind him like that.

Strange slumped forwards, taking a while to catch his breath as his forehead touched yours. Wet kisses traced alongside the lines of your neck and clavicula, lovingly tending to where his hand had left slight bruises.

Stephen would cradle you into his arms, carrying you bridal style to the more comfortable bed. As you both laid down, you'd feel his strong arms around you, nuzzling you against his muscular chest...

...and when you kissed again, you smiled against his lips, your hand resting on his heart in indescribable bliss.

"It worked." Before you could even understand what he meant, the sorcerer summoned his most recent read, shoving a certain page into your field of sight.

"The only way to break the spell is-" you heared Stephen chuckle darkly behind your back, the irony of this cheesy solution having an almost fictional touch. "...finding true love of a man with pure heart."

"No wonder you haven't said anything" you mocked him, feeling the man smothering a trace of tender kisses over your curves. "To be perfectly honest, I would've never expected you to fit the profile."

"Me neither, my dear - but I love the kind of man I am when I'm with you."

#doctor strange #doctor strange / reader #stephen strange / reader #stephen strange #mom spoilers #marvel #writing #self insert

[queerebrum]

Merlin Challenge, Day 9: Saddest Scene, Lancelot’s deaths + Merlin’s reactions.

I want to pay tribute to Sir Lancelot. We owe him a great debt. It is not just his deed that we’ll never forget, it’s his courage, his compassion, his unselfish heart. He is the most noble knight I’ll ever know. He gave his life for all of us.

#merlinchallenge2020 #merlin challenge 2020 #merlinedit #merlingifs #merlin emrys #merlin #bbc merlin #lancelot #sir lancelot #Lancelot du lac #my stuff #my gifs #mercelot #merlot #merlance #merlinbyceej #they're different kinds of grief but they cut me so deeply #prev. tiniestawoo

[interact-if]

Day 10, 2/2 of the A/PI Heritage Month featured authors interview! For our final entry, we have the amazing Shai!

Shai, author of Hollowed Minds 

A/PI Heritage Month Feature Author

“You will play as a disgraced detective, entangled in webs of conspiracies and betrayal as your character engages in a suspicious probation - with a whole lot of enigmatic hallucinations and explosions to deal with. It will be up to you to shape your detective’s (or Ripper’s, if you prefer to call them that) perception and motivations. After all, Gaile City is a place full of secrets - some of them belonging to your own character’s family - and you’ll have the freedom how to act accordingly.”

Author's Kofi

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

To put it simply, Hollowed Minds is a long quest on morality and relationships. You'll start as a disgraced detective, once a favored hero of the city until this one unfortunate mistake, and now you're forced into a suspicious probation that you shouldn't even be in. There would be a lot of challenges and suffering along the way, and you can either help your character maintain their heroic ideals or succumb to the darkness that the future brings.

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

There are a lot of things to uncover in the story, but the main issues in the first book would be the mysterious hallucinations that people are suffering from and the explosions that would shake the fundamentals of the society. There would be several approaches to choose from as you go forward, some of which may be quite outside the law, and you could opt to use a certain ‘talent’—one with accompanying repercussions—to learn more secrets. You would also have the choice to cultivate your relationships with the people you trust the most and have your interactions with them matter in the long run.

As it is, you'd have a large target on your back, owing to a sinister group with a very sinister plan—something that might be worse than death.

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

First of all, the reputation system. You can manipulate how the general public would see you, either as the hero they once saw you as, or a corrupted personality that everyone would loathe. Best thing about it? You can hide your real intentions. This would have a lot of interesting consequences, especially if your character's actions tend to be the opposite of what they're perceived as.

Second, the most awaited reunion. People who have read the available demo would know what this refers to, and well, it's about to happen soon, so I'm very excited about the idea of writing the whole scene!

Then there's this one big chapter that I know would be torturous to write and code. Basically, you'll be choosing how to 'infiltrate' this certain location, the person whom you'd be with most of the time, a decision between accomplishing what you came there for or sacrificing it for something else, how you'd get out, and where you'd go to after the whole thing. It will be a wild ride of twists and emotions, and it's not even the endgame. A lot may change with this chapter alone, and it's one of those things I think about a lot before going to sleep.

Lastly, the customization of the main character. The motivations, blame mechanic, alcoholic/non-alcoholic option, and relationships (romantic or not). Those little details would change a lot of content in the narrative and maybe in the plot itself. Whether you want to build a character who's kind to a fault or an anti-hero who wouldn't hesitate to make questionable decisions, the journey would be entirely yours.

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

It was based from a short story of mine that won a small competition back in 2018. They share similar themes, but the short story was a lot darker than I could ever put in a game that I plan to get published.

I initially thought of starting my IF writing attempts with the supernatural genre—it does seem to be a successful area—but that short story was probably the first piece of mine that I've come to appreciate, and I wanted to at least honor that. The writing style that I adopted, the evocative tone I learned to use, and the plot pieces that I've managed to be good at crafting—they all started with that story.

Looking back, there aren't much similarities anymore between the two, maybe aside from the appearance of certain characters, but the themes are still the same.

It will definitely be a huge challenge to implement what I have on mind, but I do hope people would love what's to come.

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

I grew up in a troublesome neighborhood, along with people who continue to fight against the struggles. That's both good and bad, I suppose. Philippines has a lot of corruption deep in its roots, I won't deny that, but there are also people working hard for the changes they want. That's one of the biggest influences I've got in this story.

As we delve into the plot, the readers would discover more questionable decisions that some characters may have made or would make. It's parallel to how I witnessed people having differing reactions to injustice and the way they make changes in their lives as a response. Adding to that, I personally know the feeling of grief, and I’ve seen how the people around me deal with it themselves.

There are also moral choices to be had in the game, and when I speak of that, it's not going to be just around choosing between saving/killing people. It's about the main character's intentions and emotions, and how the revelations might slowly change their views. It would be a story that will steadily define your character’s perceptions amid the threats.

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...

It's been great. I appreciate the people who have reached out in various ways to share their love for my work and to give meaningful feedback that are continuously helping me shape the story in a better way. And honestly, I'm so overwhelmed with excitement for all the support I'm getting. I didn't even expect a lot of people to like the story this early. That's why I'm so thankful!

There's also a great IF author whom I've been occasionally getting advice from, and they've been a huge reason as to why I even managed to make the first steps. Interacting with other writers is something that I never really expected myself to do, but I’m quite glad I did it.

Q6: Do you have any future projects in the works?

There are three more interactive fiction stories I've already thought of, though I won't be actively working on them until I finish the Hollowed Minds series, which would take a long while. Their temporary titles are respectively "Corrupted Legacies" (fantasy), "The Remnant's Keeper" (supernatural horror), and "A Hero's Touch" (superhero story with a twist).

Aside from that, I'm also looking forward to finishing my fantasy novel, one that I've been delaying for years, literally, as soon as I finish the first book of Hollowed Minds.

Q7: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

Write what you want to write. I know that you're all probably tired of hearing this, but it is still very important. During the planning stages, you'd most likely be excited to show the readers what you've got in store. You'd be proud of it, and you'd believe that it's one of the most brilliant ideas out there. Then a few days after you finish planning, you'll realize it may not attract as much readers as you may have expected initially. Then you'll get tempted to change your visions for the story and adopt the plot lines that the famous works have.

Do not abandon your own vision.

It's your work. It's your masterpiece. Listen to feedback, sure, and let them guide you into becoming a better writer, but do not let go of the things that made your work your own. Some way or another, there will be people who would love your story, and they'd deeply appreciate that you made it the way it is.

So don't hesitate. Is it weird? Is it unconventional? Does it belong to a genre that's not as popular as the others? It doesn't matter. Write it, polish it, and show it to the world.

People will love it as long as you do.

#if: events #Happy Asian and Pacific Islander month!! #Asian/pacific islander month 2021 #a/pi month #a/pi month 2021 #aapiheritagemonth #aapi month #interactive fiction #authors of color

[frankchurchillsaysrelax]

How about malex fluff??? We need it in our lives. Maybe a lazy day in the cabin or out camping together??? They're gonna destroy me tomorrow I need all the fluff.

They really are just going to completely obliterate us tonight aren’t they? I haven’t simultaneously dreaded and longed for an episode of television like this in a long long time. Anyway, I included something in here especially for you!

flash forward and we’re taking on the world together

“You sure you’re ok with this?”

Alex rolls his eyes and gently shoves Michael’s head back down so it rests on his chest. “Yes, Guerin.” He makes a show of sinking further into the couch cushions and tangling their already interlocked legs together. “Now shut up and let me watch this asshole get what’s coming to him.”

They’ve spent the whole day here on the couch binging Game of Thrones, and despite Michael’s endless concern it’s been exactly the kind of lazy day he’s always wanted. Nothing to do but watch tv with his boyfriend’s warm and solid presence cuddled up against him.

Alex understands Michael’s worry and he even appreciates it, to a degree. The show is violent and bloody, unnecessarily so for a general public who have never witnessed anything like it first hand, and for a combat Vet that could easily be triggering but so far Alex has been fine. Watching men in armor scream with swords in hand is a lot different from the things he’s seen.

And now Oberyn Martell is about to take down the Mountain and Alex isn’t about to let Michael ruin this moment with his overprotective streak.

Alex flinches, his whole body jumping at what comes next. Before he can properly take in the shock and grief he feels at the death of a character he really liked, Michael is up and reaching for the remote. The screen pauses, thankfully on a less gruesome image.

With a groan, Alex yanks Michael back on top of him, using a hand in his curls to pull him in for a quick, exasperated kiss.

“Michael, I love you, but you need to quit it or I’m kicking you out of the cabin.” He cuts Michael off before he can argue. “Can you honestly say you didn’t flinch the first time you saw that? Because if not I think that’s what we should be focusing on.”

Michael slowly buries his face against Alex’s neck and speaks too low for him to understand. He nudges him back and soon those damn hazel eyes that can tear right through you are staring back at him.

“I’m sorry I forgot about the amputation.” His whispered voice is threaded with guilt.

And there it is, the reason Michael has been jumping in anticipation of every major injury he knows is coming. Watching someone lose their foot on the battlefield had come as a surprise and they’d had to take a break while Alex got control of himself after, fragmented memories from almost two years ago sifting through his mind all at once.

He should have known Michael would blame himself for that. Trying to convince him otherwise will just be a waste of breath at this point.

Alex sighs, bringing a hand up to run through Michael’s hair, happy when he leans into the gesture. “Does anyone else lose a leg?”

Michael’s face turns serious, a pensive furrow growing between his eyes. Alex watches, amused, as he mentally flips through the rest of the show, his genius brain cataloguing all of the injuries they have yet to see.

“No,” he concludes.

“Then we’re fine.” Alex brushes a feather light kiss to Michael’s forehead hoping he will believe him. He grabs the remote from Michael’s hand and breathes deeply causing Michael’s head to rise and fall from where he’s settled it back on his chest.

Pushing play he tries to reassure him a bit more. “I can see why you all like this so much. I mean, their strategies are shit and there’s a bit too much gratuitous nudity for my taste.” He smiles at the sound of Michael’s subdued laugh. “But Jaime Lannister makes up for it.”

Michael moves with such force that it knocks the breath right out of Alex. His arms hold him up until he’s hovering above Alex with a look of disgust on his face.

“You like Jaime Lannister?”

The smile on Alex’s face grows as he wraps his arms around Michael’s waist, ignoring the show completely now. “Snarky asshole just looking out for his family? What can I say, I have a type.”

Michael’s protests that he is nothing like the Kingslayer are easily swallowed with a kiss.

#fraudulentzodiacs #my fic #prompts #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #light spoilers for early got i guess??