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#*succession theme in the background*
general-cyno · 4 months
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not to get ahead of myself but thinking abt future opla zolu made me a little emotional bc depending on how many seasons the show manages to get, there's high chances of seeing so many of luffy and zoro's moments. and the thing is - there's a lot of them? their relationship is built upon all these moments and interactions, some small, some big, some when they're not even together but still end up referencing or mirroring one another in some way. it's just so good. I can remember more than few off the top of my head in alabasta, jaya, skypiea, water 7/enies lobby, thriller bark, sabaody etc and that's just pre-timeskip. opla has so much potential to go absolutely bonkers with these two I'm unwell
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as part of blog renovation/reconstruction i've compiled a new themed playlist, which is up and running on the blog and you can listen to it rn. some sillies with the track list
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leclercx · 1 year
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what if the inside people who are leaking ferrari information also sabotaged charles car as revenge for b****** being fired
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batshit-auspol · 4 months
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So a bit of background first for our international followers: Clive Palmer is one of Australia's many mining billionaires who like to meddle in our country's politics, and as such he is utterly despised by all of Australia.
Picture for context:
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He is most commonly known online by the title "Fatty McFuckhead", (problematic as it may be) because he tried to sue a youtuber for $500,000 for calling him that - and he lost. So the name stuck.
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Up until his most recent foray into parliament, the legally certified Fuckhead was best known for his batshit business ventures, such as attempting to build "The Titanic 2" (failed) and trying to build a dinosaur theme park (also failed, but at least nobody got eaten by a T-Rex in this one).
For a very long time Clive played the role of sugar daddy to Australia's largest conservative party, the ironically named Liberal Party, until they had a falling out in 2012 after Clive claimed there was too much money influencing politics (lol), at which point he started his own party, days after saying he totally quit and wasn't fired and he only left because he didn't want to be a distraction.
His initial run at parliament was actually kinda successful, with Palmer's group winning 4 seats, plus a member from the "Motoring Enthusiasts Party" joined them too after accidentally getting elected and not knowing what the fuck to do.
Despite this initial success however, Palmer's party (which ran on basically no platform other than "I'm rich") hit an iceberg (titanic 2 achieved) and seven elected state and federal politicians quit within the first year.
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By the time the next federal election rolled around, only one Palmer party candidate was still running for re-election. The most successful of this group - Jaquie Lambie - quit to sit as an independant and is still in parliament today.
Here she is with a painting of herself strangling Clive (she sells signed copies of this)
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And here the senator is posting about liking sausage:
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Anyway, we're getting to the point: which is the yellow posters. By the 2016 election, just two years after forming, the party was in complete freefall. It won just 0.01% of the vote at their second election, and it was announced shortly after that Clive was quitting politics and the party was being shut down. Australia breathed a sigh of relief.
It was, of course, short lived.
Clive, in desperate need of attention, restarted the party for the 2019 election, fielding candidates in every seat and spending $60 million in advertising in an attempt to win votes.
Every single candidate lost.
It was in this campaign however that Australia really started to fall out of love with Palmer, because most of that $60 million went towards putting up the world's least compelling marketing billboards on almost every single free space in the country.
For a good six months this was basically the only thing you would see in Australia if you went outside:
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Clearly Graphic design is his passion. And yes, the genius did just straight up try and copy Trump's homework while changing a few words, hoping nobody would notice.
Very quickly these all got vandalised and it seemed the ad companies didn't care enough to replace them.
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We could go on posting examples, there are thousands, but the best is definitely the one Ikea put up shortly after Clive lost the election:
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In 2022, Clive's party contested the election AGAIN, this time also opting to send millions on spam text messages to every person in Australia begging for people to vote for him, as well as buying almost every youtube ad for a year, at the cost of $100 million.
He won a whopping one seat.
During this election Clive ran on an anti-lockdown, anti-vax platform with the slogan "freedom, freedom, freedom". That message, however, was slightly undermined when his goons, dressed in 'Freedom!' shirts, made national news for trying to beat up a protester who turned up at a rally dressed as an annoying text message, shouting "pay your workers" at Clive.
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As if that wasn't bad enough, at another rally Clive knocked himself unconscious while trying to jump up on stage, and then a few weeks later was rushed to hospital with covid, while his anti-vax ads were still in regular rotation on TV, at which point it was also leaked to the press that Palmer had been alledgedly trying to buy Hitler's car.
Utterly humiliated, the party deregistered again shortly after the election.
Can't wait until he runs again in 2025.
Anyway, on the other "Clive tweeting Miss Kobayashi's Dragon" thing, we have no idea what that means but here's a screencap:
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thebadtimewolf · 10 months
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reparations for dr. martha jones's run started early with the rich billionaire black family - the Naismiths with Joshua and his daughter, Abigail - that had the master in a big ass dog collar and straightjacket with chains in end of time two parter
before then proceeding to grant the master the one main black character set in a big city in comics superpower to defeat their psychological oppressor:
🎵electricity ELECTRICITY🎵
even though i find it funny that the two popular ships with the doctor are canine references (the bad wolf and whatever tf resurrected saxon!master had going on) that ended with them being shut off to another plane of existence at the end. (pete's world and whatever tf gallifrey was just chilling with timothy dalton!bond rassilion)
🐺woof woof🐕
are they two halves of a romana? no the third half is river but im shutting up because this has nothing to do with her. it has everything now that because of this guess,this theory that missy's you're the puppy ref means that she is right after saxon and before spy.
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stevieschrodinger · 6 months
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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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anayio · 1 month
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BABYSİTTERSİNFO - GOLD
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angelwhisp3rs · 3 months
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∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐒 obsession
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Pairing: ID!Leon x Fem!Reader
Summary: Training the rookies was a pain until he met her. His sweetest new obsession, he wouln't stop till he was buried deep inside her.
Tags: smut, fluff, age gap (not too much! i imagined leon being 37 and the reader being 23-25, so everyone is legal and consenting! Its not his age in ID but i use it only bc of the character background), p in v, eating out, riding, breeding kink, leon is obsessed!, a small housewife kink.
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ on repeat: exo - obsession
Notes: Got too excited and posted without proofreading it! If i missed anything, please let me know so i can correct it! Also, when will tumblr make a pastel pink theme for the dashboard? I hate that everything we have is either a sad/gloomy hipster or raging gothic theme.
From all his years working at the D.S.O, Leon was stressed pretty much all the time, never catching a break, too exhausted. That showed on the increasing wrinkles forming from his frowns, and the occasional white hair that appeared on top of his head. In his non-existent breaks, he had another thing on his belt: training the new agents.
At first, it was a pain in the ass, watching those morons do the same mistake over and over, it really made Leon think it was getting too easy to be a D.S.O agent. Some repeated the same mistakes over and over again, and because of it, Leon frequently lost his patience, soon getting known as a hardass. 
As time went by, he began losing hope for the future of the department, until she came through. Pretty body, voice as soothing as a canary and delicious lips that called for him. And the best thing was that she was better than all of these morons, throwing down even the experienced rookies.
Since Ada, Leon didn’t know what it was like to be this obsessed with a woman. He wanted to know her next step, have her by his side all the time, know how her soft skin feels underneath his rough fingertips. He dreamed of her, and caught himself checking her out more than he should. Chris always teased him in private, telling him “his star student is making him turn back to his twenties”. God, they had a small age gap, but thinking about it only made his cock throb. Maybe dealing with rookies made his mind turn him back to his twenties.
'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'
As their “graduation” got closer in time, all the new agents began training more, but none were like her. She came in first and left after all of them, always using the training gym by herself the most she could. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Leon offered private training, becoming a private tutor to her.
Instead of making things easy, it just caused him to become even more addicted to her - he now knew her thoughts, her quirks and her perspectives. As they spent more and more time together, it was clear that she found him attractive too - he knew he was still successful with women, after all (even if he was more dumped than anything). Leon had cemented in his mind that he needed her, and now he just needed to find a way to approach her.
She will be all his.
'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'
One of the nights, he had to spend in his office reading and filing boring documents, Leon heard a gentle knock on his door. “Come  in” he simply answered, and to his surprise - and excitement, it was his little star. She entered his office, and her usual sparkly eyes were dull, the poor thing was too tired, working herself too much.
“What happened, rookie? You look exhausted. Working too much to bring me down?” Leon said with a smirk
“Ha, you wish, sir.” Oh, how that term made his pants tighten. “I just came for help, I don’t know. I’ve been focusing on sharpening my skills for the admission test, but I don’t know…” she said unsure
“Hey, don’t tell the rest, but you’re the only one that I would bet on getting in” he reassured her, standing up and taking a seat beside her in his couch “You’re too much in your head, agent”
“I know, I just can’t turn it off…” she whined, making Leon think how she would sound if he made her cum around his cock 
That 's it. That was Leon’s chance to get his favorite student. He put a hand on her thigh, not too close to her precious cunt and said quietly to her “It’s alright, sweetheart… I can help you, if you want”
She knew where this was going, and it turned her on more than she thought. Feigning innocence, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, nodding “But… How, sir?” and looked at his lips
Leon smiled, caressing her jaw “let me fill your mind, rookie. Why don’t you sit at my desk, hm?” 
She stood up and slowly went to his desk, sitting on it and letting her head fall to the side, as if to question him “what’s next?” with her body language. Leon follows her, standing between her legs and letting his hands caress the outer side of her thighs. His face lowers to her neck, his kisses and his stubble causing a warm sensation to run through her skin. A soft gasp left her lips, her hands caressing the back of his head.
Feeling him smirk against her skin, he kept placing slow and gentle kisses, adding some nibbles on the mix “That’s what my best student needs, right? A real man to touch her”
He lays her on his desk, pushing his papers aside, pulling her hips into his - his cock adding a nice weight to her sensitive wetness. He slowly pushed her shirt up, watching her beauty for a moment “You’re perfect, baby”. As he whispered the praise, her cheeks blushed more, a soft giggle leaving her lips. He finally kissed her lips and both were hungry for each other, to quench the thirst they had been accumulating after months. 
Leon swiftly undoes her bra, not wasting any time and circling his tongue around her nipples, sucking and lightly nibbling it. Underneath him, her breath quickens, as she whines freely as he teased her. Trying to ease their ache, Leon grinds their centers together, his cock so hard that his zipper presses against his member.
Soon, he removed her pants, kissing as her skin showed - inch by inch. Again, his stubble creates goosebumps in her legs, as he worshiped her body - she deserved it, after all, he wanted to make her addicted to him and his taste. Watching her panties so drenched as they were glued to her pussy, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her bundle of nerves, causing a gentle jump on her. He kissed and licked the wet spot, as if trying to eat her up. 
“F-fuck, please take them off, sir” she whined, not even realizing that she kept the term. Leon, deciding that he wasn’t in a teasing mood, guided the clothing down, letting his pretty star all spread on his desk - his to take, to tease, to fuck, to breed. 
“Shit, baby girl, you are so wet for your teacher… you wanted me to take you, right? You wanted me to go crazy and drench my face with you. huh?” He teased her as he got on his knees, aligning his face against her cunt. She was so red, puffy and wet, not even the most delicious candy could compare to her.
His tongue tasted her at first with kitten licks, causing a loud moan to rip from her mouth. “Keep quiet, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone coming here and seeing you spread out like a needy slut, right?” at his comment, and as if teasing her, he finally sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit, letting his index finger circle her wet entrance. Almost as if she was distressed, she cupped her mouth with her hand, rolling her eyes back at the pleasure. 
Pushing his finger forward, slowly, until he's entirely inside her, he kept eating her out with gusto, as if he was a starved man. Soon, what was one finger turned into two, her juices were flowing through his palm as he began to be more desperate for her - but he wouldn’t stop till she let him taste her entirely. “It feels good, doesn’t it, my doll? I’m the only man and only one for you, gonna make sure to keep this pussy satisfied till I die”.
His fingers and mouth worked more ferociously, pussy drunk wasn’t even close to describe how he was feeling.On the other end, she had tears in her eyes as one hand didn’t leave her mouth as the other one tugged his hair hard, making him moan against her drenched cunt. “S-sir, o-oh g-god…need to c-cum!” she pleased, looking down at him with glazed eyes.
“Do it, baby girl, give it to me” he ushered her, maintaining the pace till she finally coated his fingers, tongue and mouth with her essence. As her ‘little death’ came, she felt as if fireworks erupted inside her mind - none of her exams daring to creep up on her mind.
He praised and marked her thighs as she came down from her high. The girl pulled Leon into a passionate kiss, smiling in contentment, reaching cloud 9000. Pulling away, she whispered against his lips “Let me repay you, Leon. Wanna make you feel just as good”
“Not today, doll.” He whispered, sitting back in his chair and pulling his pants and underwear down, patting his lap “I know how to help you even further”, he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.
Like an excited bunny, she hopped off his desk and jumped into his lap, resuming her kisses on his mouth - casually descending into his jaw and neck, enjoying the pleased hums that he lets out. He palmed her ass and firmly grabbed it, giving some gentle smacks as she had his fun with him. To Leon, in all of his life, that was his happiest moment: having his pretty princess on his lap, all naked, hypnotized in kissing and feeling him up. 
“Go ahead, baby, let me finally empty your mind and use you” he calmly ordered her, caressing her cheeks adoringly. Soon, she positioned herself and slowly sat down on his cock, rolling her eyes back and holding into his chair behind him. 
“S-so b-big…” she moaned, her head falling into his shoulders as the girl swallowed all of him. She was so tight, wet and perfect, Leon almost came deep in her cunt just by her inserting him. His head got dizzy for a moment, his hold on her ass tightening, as he grunted and pressed his eyes closed. 
Dedicatedly, she began jumping up and down on his cock, their skin slapping as the woman looked directly into his eyes. If anyone saw them at that moment, they would attest that both had heart in their eyes. her tits jumped up and down in front of him, making his tongue and fingers play with them as the couple lost their minds in pleasure.
“Good job, doll… jumping on my cock like the good girl you are… it’s all for you, always for you” he said rambling in pleasure,  busying his mouth to tell her praises and roll her sensitive nipples on his tongue, as her cunt drenched his cock, causing a white ring at the base.
Holding tightly into the back of his chair, her hips worked even faster on him, making Leon moan more frequently in pleasure, slapping her ass, leaving behind his handprints on her pretty skin. His head falls back as he watches the goddess in front of him taking what's hers and milking his cock into her hungry pussy. He would make sure that she passed her admission check, so every end of shift he would breed her cunt, till she is finally all of his - the mother of his children, his pretty wife. But that’s a talk for later.
After some minutes pass, Leon takes over and thrusts from below, making her body turn into his own ragdoll, her moans flowing freely into his mouth. Some minutes passed, and both were on the brink of their orgasm, so close to reaching their true paradise “Will you let me fill you, doll? Make your womb so full of me, gonna make you get home with me drenching on your legs” he taunted her.
Not handling much more teasing, and his words serving as a catalyst to her peak, she nods and coats his cock with her sweet arousal, biting down on his shoulder to drown out her sounds. Her roughness and the new tight hold on his cock makes him spill into her gummy walls, emptying himself. Finally, he marked her as his. His doll, his love, his property.
Both were coming down from their highs, trying to control their breathing, letting their heartbeat slow down. He caressed her hair, kissing her cheeks and nuzzling their noses together, all smiles. “So, did I help?” he asked jokingly.
“Didn’t even know why I came here” she answers teasingly.
From now on, Leon would never be exhausted for the wrong reasons ever again.
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writerthreads · 1 year
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How to write a found family
By Writerthreads on Instagram
The found family story is a type of YA trope where individuals from different backgrounds come together to form a family, possibly to make up for their lack of true family. When it’s done well, found families can be so wholesome and heartwarming, and I simply adore this trope. Here's a guide to help you write a compelling found family in your WIP:
Create a diverse group of characters
The key to writing a successful found family story is to have a diverse cast of characters with different backgrounds, cultures, and experiences. This diversity will make the story richer and allow you to explore different perspectives and themes from different points of views. It also allows for a wide range of readers to find a character that they can relate to.
Establish a common goal
In a found family story, the characters come together to achieve a common goal. This goal can be anything from surviving an apocalypse to starting a business together. It is essential to establish this goal early on in the story, as it will help to create a sense of unity among the characters.
Themes
Using themes can add depth to a found family story by providing a framework for exploring the emotional and psychological growth of the characters. Here are a few examples:
Belonging: The idea that characters finally have a place where they fit in, and the struggles that come with feeling like an outsider previously.
Identity: The idea of self-discovery when a character finally becomes part of a family and has the time and people to communicate with to understand themselves.
Acceptance: Characters accepting themselves and others for who they are, overcoming previous prejudices.
Family: What makes a family, and the classic tropes associated with families and variations of them. Eg. the "mum" of the group who also doubles as the "wild child" at times.
Explore each character's backstory
A found family story is all about the characters' individual journeys and how they come together, and this can be done by giving each character a backstory that explains their motivations and desires. This can justify bad choices that characters may make or simply allow the readers to relate to them more. You can also use flashback scenes or dialogue to reveal important details about each character's past, however, I think flashbacks can be used more sparingly and only if they serve a purpose.
Create conflicts and obstacles
Like any good story, a found family story needs conflict to keep readers engaged. You can create conflicts within the group or create some external obstacles that the group must overcome. These conflicts challenge the characters and force them to grow and change through adverse situations. It’s especially interesting to see how characters with conflicting personalities or life views have friction with each other.
These are some of the tips I could think of for creating a found family in your story. As always our tips are just guides to help you with your book and definitely not a set of rules to follow. Good luck and have fun! :)
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DM Tip: Creating a Campaign Skeleton
Learning to be a better dungeonmaster was a protracted process. A younger me was often so stressed out by the desire to be a better artist that I'd have legitimately mauled a person if it would've revealed to me the wisdom I sought (with my hands or even an actual maul given the chance).
One of my biggest hurdles was the idea of a universal framework for d&d adventures, a guideline that would tell me if the things I was creating were on the right track. It was sorely needed, I loved the process of being creative but without an understanding of how my creative energy was best used I ended up sinking days, weeks, or even months worth of energy into projects that went nowhere. Worse yet, when I DID get a chance to put my ideas into practice at the table they'd frequently spiral out of control and crash, resulting in even more stress.
Over time I learned from these mistakes, I got better, and then I got good. I moved from conscious incompetence to competence, and I ended up having a run of absolutely stellar campaigns that were everything my younger self could have dreamed of: stable, enjoyable, meaningful, and most importantly an absolute delight to my players. Routinely I'd have people, including folks that'd only played with me a few times, mention that getting together to roll dice and listen to me babel on in silly voices was a highlight of their week.
It was as one of these campaigns began to wind down (three years! a satisfying conclusion on the horizon!) and I started looking for a followup scenario that I decided to study all my really successful campaigns and figure out what connected them. The end result was something I'd been looking for for nearly a decade, a reliable format that I could build campaigns around.
I want to preface this section with the understanding that while this information is laid out in a vaguely chronological fashion there's no guarantee that these ideas will occur to you in any particular order. Inspiration is a funny thing, and each idea flows into the others to make a cohesive whole. Due to foreshadowing and setup reasons you're also going to need a pretty solid idea about all of these when starting a campaign, though exact details will likely change/ can be vague up until the moment they're needed.
The Reason: Who are we and what are we doing?
Gives your players a solid background to build their characters around and give them a reason to travel together, rather than having to ad lib one on the spot. Likewise sets expectations of what the campaign is "about" that you can build on or subvert in time. The reason doesn't need to hold true for the entire game, just long enough to serve as a framing device. EG: The Witcher starts out as a "monster of the week" setup and then uses that framework to pivot into politics and prophecy once we've seen the premise play out.
The Pilot/Crashtest Adventure: What's first?
I’ve already written about these, but the general concept is to give your party a mostly contained first outing that doesn’t have any larger bearing on the plot so they can focus on learning how their characters play/building the party dynamic.  By the time the party's finished this first adventure they'll have already started putting down roots in the world: they'll have in jokes, npcs they've started to care about, an understanding of what's on the horizon, and an idea of where they want to go next.
The Central Gameplay Pillar: How does this all work?
It's important to have an idea what your campaign is going to be about in a mechanical sense in addition to its plot and themes. There is a difference between an adventure that has the party delve a dungeon, and a dungeoncrawling focused campaign. I like to lead with these outright during the campaign pitch so that players can know what they're getting into. Your playgroup will likely have strong opinions about what they like and dislike, even if they don't have the words to describe it, so you might need to explain the ideas for them.
The Hub: Where are we?
I think every good campaign has a hub, some kind of settlement that the party returns to between adventures to offload loot, pick up supplies, and sift through the latest gossip to look for the next questhook. Letting the party return to the same place lets them build up a relationship with it, clarifying the picture in their mind as new details are added and they grow more and more attached. It's possible to have multiple hubs over the course of a campaign, but I'd advise really only having one per arc to best concentrate your efforts. Fill up your hub with distractions and side adventures, shorter stories that the party can get tangled up in while the larger adventure slowly reveals itself. Returning to the same hub also means returning to a familiar and expanding cast of NPCs, which helps your party become more and more invested in the setting
The Main Event: What's going to happen?
Here we get to the meat of the issue, the big story you want to be telling using this campaign. To pull off the sick narrative kickflip you wish to perform, you're going to need to lay a lot of groundwork, seeding in details left and right as well as giving the party a chance to stumble across evidence of your schemes without ever realizing the whole thing. To do this, you're going to work in the building blocks of your big reveal/twist/pending disaster into the setting along with those side adventures from the hub. This will give your party an idea that something is going on, but with more pressing matters to take care of they're going to be distracted up until the moment you decide to pull the trigger.
The Setting: What's over there?
While things like genre and tone are definitely things you should have a handle on from the outset, I personally feel like the details of a setting are best constructed on an ad hoc basis, either in a direct response to something required by part of the narrative (be it side story or main event), or pencilled in at the margins as the party explores the world.. That said, creation of the hub and setting often go hand in hand because it's important to match the settlement to the environment and then shape the environment to the quests inside the settlement. As for what's beyond your hub, I happen to have just written something about building out settings.
Now, this next option is one that I recommend you start thinking about only once your campaign is fully underway, so it doesn't clog up your creative process by focusing on something that you might not even get to
The Change: What the fuck?
A little while after the main event has kicked off and your party is off on the quest that will turn them from mere adventurers into heroes, they start to hear rumours of strange happenings. It's certainly not related to the present scenario, it may even be an unexpected windfall, but it's not something they have time to look into. Time ticks on, the land is saved, and the party is able to enjoy their victory lap as well as some dearly needed time off. Before they can get comfortable however they're slammed by some strange occurrence that they could have never predicted that changes the state of the world. A neighbouring kingdom invades, an important ally is murdered and they're blamed for it, a dragon starts rampaging through the realm. Its important that this event is outside the party's skillset, not necessarily diametrically opposed, but counter to what they were planning
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ssivinee · 6 months
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✧Mirroring Bluebird✧
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BEBE! Bada Lee x BEBE! F Reader : You are the younger sister of Noze and had gone viral at the same time as her. While working under SM, you meet Bada and become a core member of Bebe, but what if you get the same treatment your sister does, just like in the first season?
Word Count: 2.3k
Note: Basically doing my req for the next few days, lol. Reader goes by a stage name! Something light as of rn. Also very much not proof read.
Character Vision Board
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Gaining popularity in the Kpop industry as a dancer was quite common. There were multiple examples, but one of the most viral ones to date was the Noh sisters, Noh Jihye and Noh Y/n.
Generally known as Noze and Nova, the two of you were cast by Kai while he was looking for dancers for his debut. Kai was certainly particular with the dancers he chose, being meticulous about the entire process but seemingly making the right decision for his career when the two of you blow up. How couldn’t the people fall in love with the two of you? Your visuals were practically the same.
As the younger sibling, the only noticeable difference was your height, hair color, eyes, and lips, yet if you took a selfie with your sister, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You were known for your iconic hair, which was colored black with a hefty midnight blue ombre, and full lips that were usually colored in a dusty pink.  
During your time as Kai’s dancer, your sister began to stray away from SM entertainment, trying out for other artists, but you were content, staying put in the current company. That’s when Bada started appearing as Kai’s dancer during festival performances.
The very first time you and Bada crossed paths, an in-house choreographer was instructing her on how to perform a routine for the water bomb. During that encounter, you not only met Bada but you also got acquainted with Lusher and Tatter. You hit it off quite nicely with the trio, but you couldn't help but be captivated by the tall dancer. Her natural leadership qualities and the budding connections she formed with all three of you marked the start of your group, which would later be known to the world as Bebe.
After a year of being friends, you and Bada put on your big girl pants, deciding to act on these feelings. So, after dating for a few months, you two became a couple. 
It was pretty cute. At first, you'd post pictures of your charming little dates with the dancer in the background, yet her face was always out of the frame. As you softly launched your relationship to the world, people in your comments went into a frenzy, assuming you were dating a man because of the clothing glimpses they could catch.
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As time went on, your posts started to take on a distinct resemblance to Bada's. The timing, the themes, and even the locations you both chose became remarkably similar, to the point where your fans couldn't help but connect the dots. That's when all hell broke loose, as the realization hit: two of the hottest dancers in the K-pop industry were, in fact, a couple.
Of course, they’d eat it up. 
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Four months ago, Bada had accepted the invitation to Street Woman Fighter, but she had to complete the team first. Bebe only currently had you and the Lee duo and Tatter, so you and Bada took some of your friends and students to achieve a successful team. Minah was a dancer in SM who had been close to you and Bada for some time, so picking her was a breeze. Then Kyma and Cheche were Bada’s students, while Sowoen has been yours for the past year.
So when the time finally came when every group was introduced, while crews were still shocked over Jam Republic, they couldn’t help but be surprised at the two big names under Bebe.
“Bada?” Lady Bounce Biggy gasps, seeing the tall dancer and her resume. Then the screen flashes again, showing your face and work experience. Everyone is shocked; your pretty face is an unanticipated surprise. “Season 1 had Noze, and now we have Nova in season 2?” Cera of Mannequeen says, choking a little when seeing your face. “Aren’t her and Bada together?” Halo of Wolf’Lo asks, pointing accusingly at the screen as her team nods.
“Is that healthy for a relationship?” 
“Will they be able to compete properly?”
“Doesn’t seem like they’ll be taking the competition seriously then.”
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Those were just a few comments the two of you got. Expecting that already, you walked in with your crew as you were the first to enter the fight zone. As you all entered, Sowoen was the first to hit the stage and saw your team logo on the screen. “Bebe~” The maknae squeals as you enter. You, hand in hand with Bada, smile at the youngest.
“Okay. Let’s take a seat,” Bada announces, and everyone sits, you positioning yourself between Bada and Tatter. “I can’t believe this,” Lusher tells the crew, and Tatter nods, “Me either.” “There must be other teams,” Lusher says as she scans the room, seeing everyone else's crew logo.
Bada hypes herself up, saying she likes it as her grip on your hand tightens. You smile, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles, but you hear “What It Is” by Doechii playing on the large monitor before you can speak. The younger girls send a yelp, seeing the crew's evaluation video playing.
“Who’s the most popular choreographer on that team? Bada?” they hear Mina Myoung say. Then 1Million shows up on the screen, Lia Kim saying a few words, “The choreographer, sweeping the choreography field. A hot choreographer,” the girls cheer their leader on at the soft praises as you lean your head on her shoulder, a proud smile beginning to form on your face after hearing all the recognition your girlfriend got. 
“Nova is really popular, too,” Yeni Cho points out, and Baby Sleek nods, acknowledging your skills. “She’s a really entertaining performer. An eye-catcher for sure.” Chocol states, and you redden at the statement, causing Bada to pinch your side. You look at her, offended by the action, but she gives you a fake look of irritation, “Try not to fall for anyone else here.” 
You giggle, seeing her pout a little, “You know you’re the only one for me, baby.” She smiles, leaning her head on top of yours as the video continues to roll. “Other than Bada and Nova… the others are just kind of there,” Capri says, and you shake your head as Bada scoffs, “Shall we watch it over there?”
She doesn’t even wait for a response, just pulling your arm to the center. When everyone follows, they listen to Ling of Jam Republic, Gooseul of DeepNDap, the rest of Lady Bounce, and some of Wolf’Lo stating things about Bada and your crew. 
Yeni Cho popped up on the screen again, “She’s more popular compared to her dance skills.” That makes Bada chuckle, finding the comment amusing. You knew your girlfriend wouldn’t be affected by the comments made about her. She would be by what was said about her crew, though.
Of course, you weren’t safe either. “She’s just a pretty face like her sister,” Yoonji of Mannequeen says, and the other girls nod. “She’s just gonna be another Noze of this season,” Redlic points out, more in an evident tone than a hateful one. 
“Her and Bada are gonna have to carry Bebe hard.”
“Nova’s Bebe’s mascot. She doesn’t have to do anything.”
You laugh at the comments, none affecting you in the way they're supposed to, but Bada, on the other hand, seems to be fuming. As much as you got praised, most of it was for your looks. You had told Bada beforehand not to let it get to her and just to expect it, but Bada couldn’t help but fume at the comments.
As you all sit down, you notice her face going red and squeeze her hand in reassurance, whispering to her, “It’s fine, babe. We just have to show them why they’re wrong.” 
“They must be idiots to think you aren’t a good dancer just because you're pretty,” she tells you, rolling her eyes. You softly turn Bada’s head with your fingers, “Calm down.” Bada sighs when making eye contact with you, her body relaxing as you all wait for the next team. “They really shouldn’t underestimate pretty faces,” She says with a hum as she fixes the strands of hair covering your face.
Lady Bounce then comes in, a bit too rowdy for Bebe’s liking, and as the purple team took their seats, your gazes never wavered. You and Bada stared hard, causing some girls to shiver, especially with the dark glint in your eyes. Bebe loved calling you a serpent because you are the scarier sister, and your tall height also added to the scary factor. Your eyes are as compelling as a snake's and always intimidate people who meet you. Lady Bounce's face going a bit indifferent at the dancer's glares.
Then Mannequeen comes down, Bada meeting Yoonji’s gaze. As they come down, the team stands in front of the two tall ladies, and the rest of Mannequeen hype the girl who dances the Rover choreo in pure silence. All you could hear was her dress and heels clacking as the young girls of Bebe giggle. Bada just smiles condescendingly and bows, “Thank you~.”
You kept the unamused look, brows almost furrowing in disgust as Yoonji stopped. You mumble, “What was that?” yet make sure she hears your words. Seeing her hesitant face told you that she heard it loud and clear. As everyone begins taking their seats, Kang Daniel comes out, gives the introduction, announces the judges, and goes to change as they’re told.
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When returning to your seat, everyone’s eyes go wide at the sight of your pants. You had a row of stickers on one leg, back and front. “She got like 7 on one leg, right?” Kristen mumbles to Latrice, who nods after counting the stickers on her leg. “Damn, that's rough,” Audrey says, knowing none of those stickers weren’t from anyone on Jam Republic.
“I’ll prove them wrong,” You tell your entire team, who look obviously angry for you. “They targeted you, and for what?” Tatter frowns, and you just pat her head with a tight-lipped smile.
When the battles are announced, 1Million’s Redy is called first, and she picks Bada. You were aware of the situation before. Bada explained that she was beginning to get too busy then, and Redy had already blocked her number before she could reach out. The timing was wrong, but you also understood the younger girl’s perspective.
“I just don’t respect you,” Redy simply states, but when Bada calls the girl “Soobin-ah,” everyone feels the second-hand embarrassment of Redy. When the battles begin, Redy isn’t bad, and you feel like you saw similar aspects of Bada’s style, probably due to them being on the same team previously. When Bada began, though, all eyes were on her, and NO ONE looked away, not even for a second.
Bada entertained the crowd, making sure to have her own fun. As she ends the dance, she peaks at you, winking, making you laugh. She sure knew how to tease people, you included, and used it to her advantage. Sometimes, it made you wanna curse how attractive she was. The battle concluded with Bada winning 3 to 0, and she smiled. 
She runs over to you in a crushing hug, and you giggle due to her heavy breathing. “You did good,” she nods as your hands caress her long hair. More and more battles then transpired, and you pretty much only paid attention to a select few. That was until you hear Tsubakill’s Akanen being called up. “The person I have no-respect for is… Bebe’s Nova.” You perk up at your name, smiling at your first battle of the night.
“Akanen-san, why did you choose Nova?”
“To see if the pretty face can show a pretty dance,” her tone felt intrigued by the idea of you, and you smirked, “I can show a dance. It just won't be pretty,” all you heard were “Oo’s ~” and “ah’s~” from other teams as you jump a bit, shaking away any straying nerves. Akanen goes first, and you hated to admit it, but you were impressed. She did her best to taunt you despite your height gap, which made you look down on her. At some point, she approaches you and imitates a hitting motion. Bada, her girlfriend reflexes kicking in, pulled your arm back, trying to create space between you two, but you weren't budging.
So when the music switches, you feel yourself getting hyped at the sound of “Kiss Kiss” by Chris Brown. When the chorus hits, you hit an air baby, and when landing on your feet, you glided on the floor only using your knees. You ensured everyone’s eyes stayed on you, commanding the stage in a way every other crew wasn’t expecting.
As everyone hears ‘kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss,’ you imitate kissy faces while shaking your hip as you follow it with a head whip. Following the synth in the back, you hit a crisscross that goes into a heel-toe pattern, and as you hit that, you end the dance with a slight shuffle.
While you danced, you heard basically Minah, Sowoen, and Lusher could be heard cheering for you loudly. You check back behind you, Bada giving you a proud smile and a curt nod as her arms stay crossed. That’s when the judges also reveal your score of 3 and 0. Bebe jumped and cheered, bringing you into a large group hug as Bada stood back, watching the younger ones praise you. “Okay, okay, stop hogging her,” She tells them, pushing their heads away jokingly.
Bada pulls you into a hug, arms embracing your neck as she gives your head several pecks. You giggle at the feeling, and you just smile, slightly looking up at her. “You did amazing out there.”
“Thanks, leader-nim,” you tease, and she pokes your side, rolling her eyes and letting out a light laugh. “Oh, be quiet,” she says, giving you a quick peck to shut you up real quick.
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utilitycaster · 17 days
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Daggerheart Character Build thoughts!
I am actually out at work and haven't checked the version that's since come out, but I did participate in the character build beta, and the NDA is officially lifted, so here's my thoughts from that! It's definitely limited since I just made a L1 character and didn't go through gameplay, though I surmise about some aspects of gameplay.
Overall, it clearly seems to be made by people who love a lot of things about D&D 5e but wanted both more flexibility and more simplicity, which is difficult. I think they succeed.
To that end, it takes away some of the crunchier aspects (precise positioning, exact amounts of gold) and I think for some people that will be a problem, and that's valid, but ultimately this game wants to both allow for interesting mechanics in and out of combat while also not being terribly math/map/resource management heavy. It is a hard line to walk; most systems either go hard crunch or go entirely gooey.
The dice mechanic (2d12, Hope and Fear system) is fantastic; look it up but I think it handles mixed successes more gracefully and interestingly than a lot of games.
The playtest was not super clear on armor and evasion choices (or indeed what evasion means; it seems to be sort of initiative but sort of dex save, or maybe more like the Pathfinder/old school D&D varying ACs by scenario?). It was much, MUCH clearer than D&D on weapon choices (part of why I play casters? Weapon rules in D&D are annoying and poorly explained and many people rightfully ignore them) so I'm hoping this becomes clear when there's a full guide rather than just the character creation info.
The character creation questions by class were fantastic and in general, and this is a theme, this feels like it guides people towards collaboration. FWIW I feel like D&D has that information, but the way it's presented is very much as flavor text rather than a thing you should be doing. Daggerheart makes this a much more core part of creation. The Experience mechanic is particularly clear: you better be working with your GM and really thinking about background, rather than slapping it on as a mechanic.
The other side of character creation questions is that it really encourages engagement with the class, which is something I've talked about. I think either subversion for the sake of subversion, or picking a class for the mechanics and aesthetic but not the fundamental concept, will be much harder to justify in Daggerheart, and I think that's a good thing because when people do that, their characters tend to be weaker.
The downtime is designed for you to write hurt/comfort fanfic about and this is a compliment. There are a number of mechanics that reward RP, particularly one of the healing mechanics under the Splendor track. I feel like a weakness of D&D is that when you try to reward RP it's really nebulous because there's not actually a ton of space to put that - you can give inspiration, but, for example, the empathy domain Matt homebrewed actually feels kind of off because it's based on such fuzzy concepts amid mechanics that are usually more rigid. Daggerheart comes off as much cleaner yet still RP-focused, and I'm excited to see it in action.
A judgement of Candela and I suppose Daggerheart might be that it's designed for actual play. I've mentioned before that I know people who are super into the crunch and combat and numbers of TTRPGs and are less story-oriented, and again, that's valid, but actual play is just storytelling using a ttrpg and so yes, a game that encourages RP while also having mechanics to support that and influence it is an extremely good goal. I am not an actual player, but I do like D&D games with a good plot and not just Go Kill Monsters, and I want to play this. (I also have some real salty thoughts about how if you modify an existing game for AP purposes that's staggering genius apparently, but if you make your own game how dare you but that's another post).
And now, the classes/subclasses. I am going to sort of use D&D language to describe them because that's a point of reference most people reading this will understand, but they are not one-to-one. A couple notes: everyone can use weapons and armor. HP is not totally clear to me but it seems to be threshold based - everyone has the same HP to start but people have different thresholds and armor, so the tank classes have the same amount of HP but are much harder to actually do damage to.
All classes are built on a combination of a subclass and two domains. There are 9 classes and 9 domains. This technically means that if you wanted to fuck around and homebrew you could make up to 36 classes (27 additional) by just grabbing two domains that weren't otherwise combined, which is fun to consider for the potential. Anyway I cover the classes and briefly describe domains within them. You can take any domain card within your domain, regardless of subclass.
There are six stats. Presence, Instinct, Knowledge, and Strength map roughly to Charisma, Wisdom, Intelligence, and Strength. Dex is split into Agility and Finesse; Agility covers gross motor skills (jumping, most ranged weapons, "maneuvering") and Finesse finer ones (lockpicking and tinkering, though also it does cover hiding). The really big wins are first, no CON score, so you don't need to sink stat points into something that grants no skills but keeps you alive. The second one is that the "hybrid" classes spellcast from their physical stat. This is fucking fantastic. The thing about ranger or paladin or the spellcasting subclasses of rogue and fighter in D&D is that if you don't roll pretty well you're locked into the core stats and CON and nothing else. (This also doesn't have rolling for stats: you assign +2 to one stat, presumably your main, and then distribute two +1s, two 0s, and one -1.)
Your HP, Evasion, and Thresholds are set by class, and there's a core ability; the rest is all from the cards you take for subclass and domain.
Leveling up is very much based on taking more domain cards (abilities) but has a certain degree of flexibility. It's by chunks: in leveling up anywhere levels 2-4, you can, for example, increase your proficiency by +1 once, so if you wanted to do that at level 2 but your fellow player wanted to wait until level 4 and take something else at level 2 instead, they could. It allows for more min-maxing, but also everyone has the same level up rules and differs only in the abilities on the cards, which is very cool.
Bard: Grace (enchantment spells) and Codex (learned spellcaster stuff; the spells available are definitely arcane in vibes) based, Presence is your main stat. The two subclasses map roughly to lore-style stuff and eloquence. Core class ability is sort of like inspiration but not entirely. It's a bard; I like bards a lot, and this is very similar vibes-wise to your D&D bards. If you like D&D bards you will like this.
Druid: Sage (nature spells) and Arcana (raw magical power spellcaster stuff), Instinct is your spellcasting/main stat. The two subclasses are elemental but frankly cooler than circle of the moon, and a more healing/tranquility of nature focused one. I really think Marisha probably gave feedback on this one, because the elemental version is really strong. You do get beastform; it is quite similar to a D&D druid under a different system, as the bard, but the beastform options are, frankly, better and easier to understand.
Guardian: Valor (melee tank/damager) and Blade (damage). Strength based for the most part (Valor mechanics assume strength) though you could go for like, +2 Agility +1 Strength to start. This is barbarian but like. 20 times better. It is, fundamentally, a tank class, and it is very good at it, with one even more tank-focused subclass and one that is more about retaliatory damage. You do have a damage-halving ability once per day, but really guardian's questions are incredible. I think Travis and Ashley likely gave feedback. Also rage doesn't render you incapable of concentration as that doesn't seem to be a thing, so multiclassing seems way more possible (you are, I think, only allowed to do one multiclass, and not until you reach level 5 minimum, which I am in favor of). Yes, you can be a Bardian.
Ranger: This is what I built! It is based on Sage and Bone (movement around the field/dodging stuff) and it is Agility-based, including for spellcasting, which is a MASSIVE help (as is, again, the fact that CON isn't a thing.) The subclasses are basically being really good at navigation, or animal companion. Most importantly to me you can be a ranger with a longsword and you are not penalized; Bone works with either ranged weapons or melee.
Rogue: Midnight (stealth/disguise/assassination spells and skills) and Grace-based. Yes, rogue is by default a spellcaster, which does help a LOT with the vibes for me. One subclass is basically about having lots of connections (as a spy or criminal might) and the other is about magical slinking about. Hiding/sneak attack are also streamlined. I will admit I'm still more interested in…almost everything else, but I think it evened out a lot of rogue weaknesses.
Seraph: Splendor (healing/divine magic) and Valor. This is your Paladin equivalent. It is strength-based for casting, again making hybrid classes way less stressful. Questions for this area also incredible; you do have something not unlike a lay on hands pool as well. Your subclasses are being able to fly and do extra damage; or being able to make your melee weapon do ranged attacks and also some extra healing stuff, the latter of which is my favorite. Yasha vibes from this, honestly. Single downside is this is the only class where they recommend you dump Knowledge. I will not, and I never will. Now that I don't have to make sure CON is high? I am for REAL never giving myself less than a +1 Knowledge in this game.
Sorcerer: Arcana (raw nature of magic/elemental vibes) and Midnight based. Yes, sorcerers and rogues now share a vibe, for your convenient….less enthused feelings. Instinct-based, which intrigues me, and the core features are in fact really good. The two subclasses are either one that focuses on metamagic abilities, or one that is elemental based. I would play this for a long-running game, though it's not my favorite, and I can't say that for D&D sorcerer (except divine soul).
Warrior: Blade and Bone, and the recommended build is Agility but you could do a strength build. Fighter! One subclass is about doing damage and one is about the hope/fear mechanics core to the game that I have NOT talked much about. I will admit, the hybrid martials and Guardian are more interesting to me but you do have good battle knowledge.
Wizard: Codex and Splendor. Wizards can heal in this system; farewell, I will be doing nothing else (jk). Knowledge-based, and you can either go hardcore expertise in knowledge, or be a battle wizard.
Other scattered thoughts: healing is not as big a deal here; there is no pure cleric class! There is also no monk, warlock, or artificer. There is not a way to do monk as a weaponless class really though you might be able to flavor the glowing rings as a monk weapon and play a warrior. Wizard, meanwhile, with the right experiences and high finesse, would allow for some artificer flavor. Cleric and Warlock are the two tough ones and I will admit those are tricky; I feel like you'd have to multiclass (which you cannot do until level 5) between perhaps seraph and a caster class and you're still going to come off very paladin.
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writers-potion · 14 days
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Writing Morally Gray Characters
Morally gray antagonists and heroes can bring up many interesting questions about your story's theme and plot. Yes, your hero does want to save the world, but resorts to cruel ways of bringing peace?
Being morally gray can also mean that the character is highly goal- oriented and values efficiency and success over anything.
Deceiving Appearances
As is true in real life, a person's intentions aren't always obvious. A character, their title, background or really just how they look might at first indicate they're the hero type but surprise - they're not.
By hiding ulterior motives behind more apparent ones, you can add depth to your morally gray characters. Appearances can be deceiving, and that makes for a juicy read.
Morally Gray vs. Villains
Morally gray characters and villains are not strictly one and the same. Yes, there is overlap-they can be villains-but the distinctions are there nonetheless.
I don't think having a dark past to provide motivations for morally gray characters is too effective. They do intend to harm others, and sometimes, that's just the way they are.
Recognition
Your morally gray character should recognize that their choices can cause harm, intentionally or otherwise.
Although he's willing to risk the chance in his pursuit of knowledge, he does actively recognize that his actions can result in negative consequences. He sometimes acknowledges this before he does something, and sometimes only in hindsight.
Remorse
They must understand and experience remorse. When the consequences of their actions wreck and story world and kills people around her, she would certainly have regrets and even struggle to undo what she did.
The point here is, she won't regret until she has already caused the wreckage.
Redemption
Finally, when even they feel things have gone too far, your morally gray character must seek redemption however that manifests itself in your story.
For all their logic and reasoning, they are not without feeling. They can grow to care for other characters and go out of their way to help them at times, even save their life.
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judasrpc · 7 months
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THE MAJOR ARCANA, REVERSED
a collection of character development questions based on the arcana and their themes !! this is part of a collection of tarot-themed asks. if multi, please specify which muse(s) the question is directed toward !!
[THE FOOL] - Do you consider them naive, or disconnected from the world aronud them? If so, what do they need to step back and reflect on to get them "in the zone"?
[THE MAGICIAN] - Do they self-sabatoge, or do they sabatoge others in their lives? If so, how?
[THE HIGH PRIESTESS] - Do they easily trust others, or do they listen to their gut more? Are they distrusting?
[THE EMPRESS] - What economic background did they grow up in, or are a part of now? Has their situation gotten better or worse?
[THE EMPEROR] - Where do they stand in the social hierarchy of their group (e.g., are they at the top of the chain, or are they subservient to those around them?)
[THE HIEROPHANT] - Do they often abide by social norms, or do they reject institutional values in favor of flexibility/independence?
[THE LOVERS] - Are they a good communicator, or do they tend to crack under pressure?
[THE CHARIOT] - Do they feel like they belong anywhere, or do they feel outcast in comparison to their peers?
[STRENGTH] - Are they jealous/envious? If so, what makes them jealous/envious of those around them?
[THE HERMIT] - Is solitude a good or bad thing for them? Do they like being alone, or do they have no choice?
[WHEEL OF FORTUNE] - Are they lucky, or does misfortune tend to follow them wherever they go?
[JUSTICE] - What do they need to be held accountable for? What actions, if any, do they deny responsibility for?
[THE HANGED MAN] - Do they feel "stuck" in any aspects, or as if they're falling behind their goals?
[DEATH] - What are they holding onto, and are they refusing to let this go?
[TEMPERANCE] - Do they tend to think in a polarized manner, or do they attempt to navigate the nuance of whatever troubles them?
[THE DEVIL] - What is their go-to recovery plan? Do they take time for themselves, or do they jump back into action without a second thought?
[THE TOWER] - What is the most disastrous thing that could happen to them? How would they navigate that situation/event?
[THE STAR] - Are they faithful? If so, to who/to what, and how do they show it?
[THE MOON] - What is one question they would do anything to get an answer to, no matter the cost?
[THE SUN] - Is it hard for them to stay positive? If so, why is that?
[JUDGMENT] - What is one thing they harshly judge themselves for? What creates doubt and self-loathing for them?
[THE WORLD] - What are they missing in life? What one thing, if anything, is the "key" to their success?
543 notes · View notes
vivalabunbun · 11 months
Text
There Are Nothing But Flowers
Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.
Word Count: 11.3K
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader,  TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy. 
Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy. 
Side note: the aftermath
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“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.
“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.
“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.
The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.
“Have a good day at work, my love.”
A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.
Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you? 
Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy. 
“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters. 
“Hello, doctor.” 
Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.
Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.
“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”
What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’? 
“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.” 
What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’? 
“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.” 
What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for? 
The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.
From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold. 
“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.
The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them. 
Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.
Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say? 
As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls. 
Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.
Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.
Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.
Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.
Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.
Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope. 
The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home. 
You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps. 
Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again? 
Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star. 
Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?
Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?
Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana? 
Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over? 
Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath. 
No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you. 
There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do? 
The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey. 
Oh, he’s at his desk tonight. 
Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.
Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line. 
Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme. 
Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans. 
Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer? 
He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view. 
He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies. 
Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything. 
You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.
He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light. 
It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts. 
What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?
Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?
Is that why he’s so eager to leave?
Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call. 
Could you be that someone? 
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“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava. 
“Mmm…”
The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.
“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”
“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes. 
Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips. 
“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava. 
A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?
“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in. 
“Ugh, his office is right across from you.” 
“Who?”
“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.” 
So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue. 
“Oh? How come?” 
“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience. 
“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out. 
“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.” 
“Mm, really?” 
“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece. 
Success. 
The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.
After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law. 
Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.
It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.
As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures. 
Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.
Name: Alhaitham
Species: Vampire (Born)
Title: Secretary
Years At Company: 168
Fingers clicked on the next tab. 
“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.” 
Eyes moved to the next tab.
“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.” 
--
Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number. 
Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts. 
There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead. 
The universal signal for rejection. 
The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.
However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light. 
In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always. 
How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness. 
If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious. 
Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock. 
“Is there something you need, ma’am?”
“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”
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Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you. 
Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press? 
It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.  
The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.
A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check. 
There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?
What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?
Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too? 
Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled. 
The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.
Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted. 
“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer. 
“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you. 
“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag. 
“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”
“Is his schedule occupied right now?” 
“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”  
“Please, Madam Faruzan?” 
You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips. 
“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk. 
“Thank you.” 
Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination. 
When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.
From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words. 
Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.
As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty. 
“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile. 
The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience. 
“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.” 
The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response. 
“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.
The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal. 
You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters. 
“What are your demands?” 
“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.
Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door. 
In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form. 
“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn’t glance up from the paper.
“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.” 
“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?” 
“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.
“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form. 
You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure. 
“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on. 
“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”
“You only need to feed once every two months?”
“Yes, would that be an issue?” 
Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them. 
“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.” 
“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question. 
The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing. 
“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict. 
It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink. 
“Oh?... May I ask why?”
“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.” 
Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. 
He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent. 
“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall. 
Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain. 
“Yes.” 
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“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.” 
And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone. 
Success. 
“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables. 
“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze. 
Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved. 
However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them. 
Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips. 
“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?” 
That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict. 
Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon. 
The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded. 
“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends. 
“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.
They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.
Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends. 
You’re the only selfish one. 
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There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.
One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.
When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy. 
Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen. 
“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?” 
“No.” 
Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.
He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies. 
Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.
It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.
No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life. 
Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.
You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show. 
The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one. 
“Haitham,” you called out. 
Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more. 
“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips. 
“Thank you.” He takes his place. 
You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious. 
Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing. 
“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.
“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite. 
Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal. 
You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest. 
A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now. 
It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname. 
He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature. 
He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.
The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part. 
He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand. 
You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.
Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.
Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know. 
Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations. 
If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.
Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony. 
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Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.
Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame. 
The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower. 
This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue. 
You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.
You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now? 
Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable. 
The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh? 
The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?
Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?” 
“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house. 
From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile. 
“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?” 
“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.” 
“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood. 
“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension. 
“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.” 
Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite. 
“Oh? That serious, what did they do?” 
“He turned his lover.” 
Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise. 
The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew. 
“Oh?” 
“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.” 
“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm. 
“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.” 
“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.” 
She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line. 
“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular. 
The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears. 
In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.
If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well. 
It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses. 
It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post. 
Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you. 
“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command. 
“I went drinking with coworkers.”
You know, you could smell it on him. 
“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”
Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.
In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes. 
What went wrong with the script? 
You. 
It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly. 
Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of. 
But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance. 
This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.
It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold. 
“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed. 
Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes. 
“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.
Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.
“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.” 
Another deep exhale from him. 
“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.” 
The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib. 
“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers. 
What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband. 
“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted. 
You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes. 
Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit. 
“Welcome home, Haitham.” 
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“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters. 
The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps. 
It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.
“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts. 
You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes. 
“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?” 
What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by. 
“Do you not like flowers?” 
“Their fragrance is overbearing.” 
Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh? 
“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting. 
“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips. 
Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband. 
“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back. 
Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining. 
“Woah??-” 
Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.
Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you. 
The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed. 
“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.
There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.
“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones. 
“It’s a garden after all.” 
“Pfft!”
The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath. 
Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. 
“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions. 
“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips. 
This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie. 
How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time. 
Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours. 
Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.
How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?
Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves. 
It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness. 
Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts
“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.
Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script. 
“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle. 
Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips. 
“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them. 
Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue. 
“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.
The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.
“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning. 
There was a sigh that filled the distance between you. 
“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness. 
“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.” 
 It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.
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The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.
“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out. 
Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch. 
To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural. 
“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence. 
“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer. 
His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?
It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.
“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt. 
There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them. 
“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push. 
A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch. 
You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked. 
Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat. 
More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise. 
“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear. 
“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers. 
“How lewd.” 
“You don’t like it?”
Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs. 
“Do I seem displeased?” 
Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.
Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience. 
As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo. 
Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp. 
“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed. 
Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips. 
Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth. 
Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears. 
  Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue. 
He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to. 
Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help. 
“S-slower.”
Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy. 
Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture. 
Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.
Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch. 
You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too. 
Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.
Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop. 
Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist. 
“Brazen girl,” he snarls. 
You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before? 
Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.
“Beg.”
Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving. 
“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue. 
Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length. 
Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.
Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven. 
Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.
Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours. 
He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.
It’s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good? 
Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.
Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook. 
Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.
Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes. 
The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.
His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core. 
A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest. 
Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.
Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him. 
Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows. 
Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back. 
The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.
“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.
A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice. 
Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.
This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.
Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it. 
“I was born a human,” you began.
Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum. 
“I will die as one.”
With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.
Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated. 
After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.
No, you’re too selfish for that.
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Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones. 
What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.
Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight. 
As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling. 
Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.
It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions. 
It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now. 
You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.
Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality. 
Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.
“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets. 
Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.
Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat. 
“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?” 
As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist. 
“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.” 
You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you. 
“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery. 
Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb. 
Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.
“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him. 
Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah. 
Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home. 
Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist. 
A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.
All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd. 
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A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.
However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.
Even your own body had enough of your selfishness. 
Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall. 
It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.  
The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.
Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.
Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs. 
The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.
Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.
That’s no good. 
Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.
The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.
“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper. 
Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.
“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues. 
Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.
At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is. 
A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come. 
Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.
Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.
“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”
“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.
Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.
“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision. 
After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh? 
In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.
Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier. 
The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.
What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.
Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.
What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?
Nothing.
A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside. 
Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through. 
So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind. 
You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him. 
Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom. 
It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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iberiantalesif-game · 1 month
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Genres: Heavy romance, Fall of your entire culture, Ancient history slice of life, Found family
Rating : 16+ for depictions of violence, mature themes and language. (List to be expanded on)
Summary
Life was once tranquil on the isolated coast of your city, surrounded by a loving family and promising prospects for success in your societal position. However, tranquility shattered when the Romans emerged victorious in the Punic War against Carthage, signaling the impending demise of the Iberian people.
As flames engulf your city, escape becomes the only viable option, if luck favors you enough to evade the soldiers blocking your path that is.
Yet, amidst the chaos, you realize that the existence of a stray and that of a Roman slave may not be so disparate.
If the gods truly have a plan for you, their track record thus far suggests they're not worthy of your trust either. But when a fate worse than death is upon your door, you really cant get picky can't you?
Features!
Assume the role of a member of an Iberian civilization dwelling along the coast.
Customize your protagonist's background as a warrior, priest, or noble, shaping both personality and appearance.
Flee from the Romans (or choose otherwise) and embark on a quest to find a new place to call home.
Reconnect with or forge new bonds to create your newfound family, if circumstances allow.
Decide between preserving your culture from extinction or embracing the dawn of new societal norms, and confront the repercussions of your choices.
Engage in romantic pursuits with one of the available romance options. (Witch will be expanding as the game develops and progresses)
The RO´s Cast
Theodosius (Theo) Aurelius [He/Him]
Theo resembles his father´s features, tall, blond and with eyes coloured by the sea. He also has a cold temperament and a tendency to keep people at arm's length.
But being a powerful Roman family heir might make him a good ally. The truth is that you have no option but to please him or his father who bought you, all in hopes of a change of fortune. Or so you tell yourself, as the cold man shows you a mercy not proper of Romans. Maybe they are not as beastly as you thought after all?
Tropes: Snow Prince with warm heart, Fake love to Soulmates.
Eon[He/Him]
Eon is a huge man, with signature red hair, heavily tanned skin and a green stare. So is his entire family, a mercenary group from the northern city of Numantine.
With a world of differences in between and a war that has shaken the safety of the entire peninsula, he is as good a bet on survival as it gets. But when the times can't seem rougher, this giant man offers a sweetness that you have rarely known amidst despair, maybe one strong enough to survive hunger?
Tropes: Buffed fluff/could kill and is a cinnamon roll.
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