#so here it is for folks if they want / need to reference it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

etoilesombre · 5 months

Text

Hey, do you guys want to hear a story? Let me tell you about the romance between Lancelot and Guinevere, as recounted in Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur.

So, I thought I knew the basics. I grew up reading modern versions of Arthurian legend that focused on other aspects, but had a general knowledge of the Arthur-Guinever-Lancelot love triangle. It didn't show up too much, but I assumed it was subtext in some other versions. What I picked up was that it was sort of pure, almost an ot3, and not the cause of a lot of problems.

My friends. In this version it is NOT SUBTEXT, it DEFINITELY CAUSED PROBLEMS, and it is WILD. It is a true will-they-won't-they drama fest soap opera romance, and I need to share. So please, come on this journey with me.

[I’m looking at you, Black Sails fandom people. I need you to know that Flint canonically would have read this. He would almost certainly have also grown up hearing these stories. I’m not saying he’s Lancelot coded, but I am saying it's interesting that he would have been aware that was something it was possible to be.]

A couple notes, before we dive in. I am very much just summarizing what happened in the book. The thing is, the book is a million pages long and also in Middle English, and this is just one of many plots, which I think is why it's not more widely known. I will show some excerpts so you can get a feel for the text, but you don’t need to read them to understand the story. I'm referring to a version that is as close to the manuscript as I can find, though with spelling regularized. For real fun, see what the original looked like. Malory purports to be translating part of the French Vulgate cycle, which likely is where the character of Lancelot originates, but in fact he is doing much more than translating, and compiles other stories as well. Point being, when he says “so the French book sayeth” etc, that is the “book” to which he is referring. Because of my lack of knowledge about the language and cultural context, this lecture series from Mythgard Academy was absolutely invaluable to my understanding. I cannot recommend it highly enough. Inevitably, some of the opinions of the prof are reflected here. I do not have it in me to compare the scholarship of various medievalists right now, I just want to tell you about this DRAMA.

Let’s start with a prophecy. When Arthur decides he wishes to marry Guinevere, Merlin advises him to take someone else, because if he takes her, she will betray him with Lancelot and it will destroy his kingdom. All of this is foretold, not only to us, but to Arthur himself. Of course he takes her anyway, and all is doomed from the start.

As we begin the main arc of this story (several books after the prophecy), Lancelot is widely acknowledged to be the best and most renowned knight of Arthur’s court. He is plainly and hopelessly in love with Guinevere, and she loves him in return. Arthur doesn’t have a problem with this - who wouldn’t love Guinevere? This sort of love is socially acceptable, so long as they do not sleep together, which would be treason. Arthur in fact seems to support their love, because it means that Lancelot will be Guinevere’s champion should she need one. This is a role Arthur himself legally cannot fill because he is the king, and so would have to be the judge. Lancelot is indeed a good champion for her, and fights for her when she is wrongly accused of murder.

Lancelot is deeply chivalrous, in a way that seems sincere. This is a great place for a first excerpt, a conversation with a Random Damsel Lancelot has been helping:

‘Now, damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘will ye any more service of me?’ ‘Nay, sir,’ she said, ‘at this time, but almighty Jesu preserve you wheresoever ye ride or go, for the most courteous knight thou art and meekest unto all ladies and gentlewomen that now liveth. But one thing, sir knight, me thinks ye lack, ye that are a knight wifeless, that ye will not love some maiden or gentlewoman. For I could never hear say that ever ye loved any of no manner of degree, and that is great pity. But it is noised that ye love Queen Guenivere, and that she hath ordained by enchantment that ye shall never love no other but her, nor no other damosel nor lady shall rejoice you; wherefore there be many in this land of high estate and low that make great sorrow.’ ‘Fair damosel,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘I may not warn* people to speak of me what it pleaseth them; but for to be a wedded man, I think it not; for then I must couch with her, and leave arms and tournaments, battles and adventures. And as for to say to take my pleasance with paramours, that will I refuse, in principal for dread of God. For knights that be adventurous should not be adulterers nor lecherous, for then they be not happy nor fortunate unto the wars; for either they shall be overcome with a simpler knight than they be themselves, or else they shall slay by unhap and their cursedness better men than they be themselves. And so who that useth paramours shall be unhappy, and all thing unhappy that is about them.’

So after doing his Knightly Deeds for this damsel, Lancelot asks if she needs anything else. She says no, but you are lacking one thing, which is the love of a woman. It is rumored that is because Guinevere has through sorcery made you love only her, and that causes all of the women great sorrow. In reply Lancelot makes this speech about how he cannot have a wife or paramour and be a good knight, but everyone thinks it is at least in part because his love is reserved for Guinevere.

Now, throughout the book his chastity DOES notably cause all of the women great sorrow. Everyone wants to sleep with Lancelot. Literally he is kidnapped by the four most beautiful queens other than Guinevere, and they say he has to choose one of them as a lover (not even a wife, a lover) or else die. He says he would rather die, though in the end he escapes. This is just an example, truly it is a recurring problem for him. He is, at one point, tricked into sleeping with a woman with whom he conceives his son Galahad (as was prophesied, it's a long story and the romance is only part of it. It is worth mentioning that something similar happens to Arthur, which is how Mordred is sired.) When Guinevere learns that Lancelot has been with someone else, she is angry and banishes him from the court. They still love each other and eventually reconcile.

So, Lancelot goes on the quest for the holy grail. But he fails, specifically because while he is outwardly dedicated to God, in his private heart he is still dedicated to Guinevere. And so he makes a vow to renounce his love for her, acknowledging that it is beyond measure (beyond what is right, even if they have not technically done anything wrong.) However when he returns to Camelot, he cannot keep this vow, as we see.

Then, as the book saith, Sir Lancelot began to resort unto Queen Guenivere again, and forgot the promise and the perfection that he made in the quest. For, as the book saith, had not Sir Lancelot been in his privy thoughts and in his mind so set inwardly to the Queen as he was in seeming outward to God, there had no knight passed him in the quest of the Sangrail, but ever his thoughts were privily on the Queen. And so they loved together more hotter than they did beforehand, and had many such privy draughts together that many in the court spoke of it, and in especial Sir Agravain, Sir Gawain’s brother, for he was ever open-mouthed. So it befell that Sir Lancelot had many resorts of ladies and damosels that daily resorted unto him to be their champion: in all such matters of right Sir Lancelot applied him daily to do for the pleasure of Our Lord Jesu Christ. And ever as much as he might he withdrew him from the company of Queen Guenivere for to eschew the slander and noise, wherefore the Queen waxed wroth with Sir Lancelot.

He and Guinevere start spending a lot of time alone together, and so there are rumors circulating about them in court. In order to put a stop to the rumors, Lancelot starts paying other women attention and doing more good knightly deeds for them. Guinevere is terribly jealous, but he tells her it's for their own good, and also tells her about the vow he made, and his concern that their love is beyond what is appropriate. She is devastated, and weeping banishes him from the court (again).

Lancelot then rides in a tournament, disguised. (Why? Because this is simply a thing knights do.) To make it an effective disguise he takes the token of a woman, the sleeve of the fair maid of Astolat to wear on his helm. When she discovers that he was only using it for the disguise, and he does not indeed love her, she is so heartbroken that she says if he will not marry her or be her lover, she will die. He refuses, on the grounds that love must not be constrained and should arise from the heart, and offers her a thousand pounds a year instead if she marries anyone else. Properly insulted by this, she does indeed die. She has her body sent in a boat to Camelot, with a letter in her hand, saying that she died of her love for him, that he would not return.

Seeing this, Guinevere reconciles with Lancelot, presumably reassured by the fact that he would let this very beautiful much younger woman die of her love rather than being with her. She insists that from now on he will not fight in disguise, and will openly bear her token.

Then Queen Guenivere sent for Sir Lancelot, and said thus: ‘I warn you that ye ride no more in no jousts nor tournaments but that your kinsmen may know you; and at these jousts that shall be ye shall have of me a sleeve of gold. And I pray you for my sake to force* yourself there, that men may speak you worship. But I charge you as ye will have my love, that ye warn your kinsmen that ye will bear that day the sleeve of gold upon your helmet.’ ‘Madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘it shall be done.’ And either made great joy of other.

It is important to keep in mind that, to this point, there is no textual evidence that they were sleeping together, and a great deal of evidence that it was important to Lancelot that they not cross that line. There is much less evidence that this is important to Guinevere.

So then one fateful day in May, Guinevere goes picnicing with an entourage of knights. They are captured by someone else who is in love with Guinevere, and taken back to his castle, but she manages to send a message to Lancelot. At the castle, she insists that her knights sleep in her bedchamber on the grounds that they were wounded in the battle when she was captured and need tending, but truly she wants them there to keep her captor from raping her.

Lancelot arrives to rescue her, and the person who kidnapped her agrees to give her back in the morning. She tells Lancelot to visit her room in the night. He climbs up to her window, which is barred. They have a heartfelt reunion and she says she wishes he could come in to her. He acquiesces and breaks the bars to get into her room, cutting his hand to the bone to do so. Despite the profusely bleeding wound and the ten other men sleeping in the room, they at last do sleep together, in this passionate blood covered consummation. He sneaks back out and replaces the bars.

In the morning, the man who kidnapped Guinevere comes in and sees blood all over the bed. He accuses her of being unfaithful to the king, saying she lay with one of the knights who had been sleeping in her room. She denies it, but it is very clear that she did sleep with someone who was bleeding.

Lancelot says he will fight to defend her from this accusation, which is right and proper because he is her champion. In this story people take trial by combat and oaths before God very seriously, especially Lancelot. He really does try. So he swears an oath that he will prove with his life that Guinevere did not sleep with one of the wounded knights who lay in her room. This of course is TRUE, but only on a technicality. Lancelot, having slept with her himself the night before, is also the one who defends her honor after. I love this story so much.

Instead of fighting him, the kidnapper takes Lancelot captive. In captivity he encounters ANOTHER damsel who insists that sleep with her in order for her to help him. He refuses, still faithful in his heart to Guinevere. Eventually she settles for him holding and kissing her, which is not across the line of appropriateness apparently, giving us some idea of where that line is drawn. Anyway, Lancelot gets out, fights for Guinevere and wins. There are indications that he feels like he barely dodged a devine bullet.

Guinevere and Lancelot return to Camelot. Finally the rumors about them are true, the deed has been done, but of course nothing appears particularly different as there were already rumors about them. Two knights, Mordred and Agravaine, who have been intriguing against Arthur already, go and tell Arthur that Guinevere is being untrue to him. Here is his response:

‘If it be so,’ said the King, ‘wit you well, he is none other; but I would be loath to begin such a thing but I might have proofs of it. For Sir Lancelot is a hardy knight, and all ye know that he is the best knight among us all; and but if he be taken with the deed he will fight with him that bringeth up the noise, and I know no knight that is able to match him. Therefore, and it be sooth as ye say, I would that he were taken with the deed.’ For as the French book saith, the King was full loath that such a noise should be upon Sir Lancelot and his queen. For the King had a deeming of it; but he would not hear thereof, for Sir Lancelot had done so much for him and for the Queen so many times that, wit you well, the King loved him passingly well.

Arthur says he will not hear of this without proof, because if Lancelot is accused and allowed to fight he would beat anyone. And, it is said that Arthur had some idea of the affair, but would not credit it because Lancelot had done so much for him and Guinevere, and he loved Lancelot greatly.

So, one night when the king is away hunting, the two accusers contrive to catch them in the act, with a group of twelve armed knights. They do find Lancelot in Guinevere’s chamber, but the text is notably, pointedly vague about whether they are actually in bed. In any case, Lancelot asks for a trial. The knights say no, they have caught him and so may kill him. He is Lancelot, so he kills all of them instead, save one (Mordred) whom he leaves wounded. Lancelot flees, intending to return to rescue Guinevere and take her to his own castle to protect her from Arthur’s wrath. He maintains her innocence, and still intends that they will all reconcile.

Guinevere is to be burned at the stake (normal in this situation). Lancelot rescues her from the burning at the last moment, killing a number of knights of the round table. Arthur seems to blame the accusers more than Guinevere and Lancelot (for good reason; keep in mind that the romance is a subplot, there is a great deal of political intrigue going on.) Now a war will begin, whether anyone wants it or not, because of the people Lancelot killed. Lancelot takes Guinevere to his own castle. Battle lines are drawn, and Lancelot and Arthur confront each other in the fighting:

And ever was King Arthur about Sir Lancelot to have slain him, and ever Sir Lancelot suffered him and would not strike again. So Sir Bors encountered with King Arthur; and Sir Bors smote him, and so he alit and drew his sword and said to Sir Lancelot, ‘Sir, shall I make an end of this war?’—for he meant to have slain him. ‘Not so hardy,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘upon pain of thy head, that thou touch him no more! For I will never see that most noble king that made me knight neither slain nor shamed.’ And therewith Sir Lancelot alit off his horse and took up the King and horsed him again, and said thus: ‘My lord the king, for God’s love, stint this strife, for ye get here no worship and I would do my utterance. But always I forbear you, and ye nor none of yours forbear not me. And therefore, my lord, I pray you remember what I have done in many places, and now am I evil rewarded.’ So when King Arthur was on horseback he looked on Sir Lancelot; then the tears burst out of his eyes, thinking of the great courtesy that was in Sir Lancelot more than in any other man. And therewith the King rode his way and might no longer behold him, saying to himself, ‘Alas, alas, that yet this war began!’

So Arthur tries to slay Lancelot, but Lancelot, the better fighter, refuses to slay him and indeed when Arthur is unhorsed Lancelot forbids that he be slain, and gives him his own horse. Arthur weeps for the honor that is in Lancelot, and laments that the war began.

The pope intervenes and tries to negotiate an end. Lancelot confirms that he is willing to return Guinevere to Arthur, and says he has always been willing to do this and will still defend her honor, but that he does not feel he can do so because Arthur has listened to liars and been misled, and he had more reason to take her away than the accusation of adultery - he does not trust she can be safe in that court, with things as they are.

Eventually they do make a deal, with some assurances, and he surrenders Guinevere to the king. He kisses her openly, says that he will leave, but should she be in danger or ever again accused of being untrue, he will fight for her as he always has. He departs the court forever, to much great sorrow, and returns to his own lands.

The war continues - eventually Mordred seizes the throne, Arthur kills him in battle but is mortally wounded himself and passes to Avalon. Following the king’s death, although her love would no longer be adulterous, Guinevere retires to a convent rather than reuniting with Lancelot. He seeks her out, and this is her reaction:

Sir Lancelot was brought before her; then the Queen said to all those ladies, ‘Through this same man and me hath all this war been wrought, and the death of the most noblest knights of the world; for through our love that we have loved together is my most noble lord slain. Therefore, Sir Lancelot, wit thou well I am set in such a plight to get my soul health; and yet I trust through God’s grace and through His Passion of His wounds wide, that after my death I may have a sight of the blessed face of Christ Jesu, and at Doomsday to sit on His right side;* for as sinful as ever I was, now are saints in heaven. And therefore, Sir Lancelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, that thou never see me no more in the visage. And I command thee, on God’s behalf, that thou forsake my company; and to thy kingdom look thou turn again, and keep well thy realm from war and wrack. For as well as I have loved thee heretofore, my heart will not serve now to see thee, for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed. And therefore go thou to thy realm, and there take ye a wife and live with her with joy and bliss. And I pray thee heartily to pray for me to the everlasting Lord that I may amend my misliving.’ ‘Now, my sweet madam,’ said Sir Lancelot, ‘would ye that I should turn again unto my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you well, that shall I never do, for I shall never be so false unto you of that I have promised. But the self* destiny that ye have taken you to, I will take me to, for the pleasure of Jesu; and ever for you I cast me specially to pray.

Rather than rejoicing in Lancelot’s presence, Guinevere laments that their love brought about the downfall of the Arthurian court, and the deaths of the knights of the round table and King Arthur. She calls upon Lancelot, by all the love that was ever between them to leave her presence, telling him to marry someone else if he wishes and see her no more. Lancelot replies that he wants no one else, and that he will respect her wishes, but will also renounce the world and join a religious order. He asks Guinevere for a final parting kiss, which she denies him.

When Guinevere lies dying of illness, Lancelot sets out to go to her, having had a vision. She knows of his coming, and prays to die before she sees him, because she cannot bear it. She dies a half hour before he arrives, leaving instruction that he is to tend to her body, and then lay it to rest beside that of her lord King Arthur. Lancelot does this with great sorrow, and after ceases to eat or drink, and within weeks is dead himself.

And there you have it, the love affair that doomed Camelot.

HUGE DISCLAIMER: Any and all mistakes or misinterpretations are my own. This is what I gathered, but I am not a medievalist. I am barely an interested layperson. I’m just a random fic writer who got obsessed with research for a story, and had to share this tragic mess.

#i have a million thoughts about this #and there is a great deal of context that would be helpful #but i this doesnt need to be more than 4k words long so #i may do a followup post if there is interest #but black sails folks #i'm writing a lot of flintmadi convos right now #and vaguely planned to have them talk about this book #as a way to discuss their own situation and values #but i had not actually read it #and it is WAY MORE than i expected #anyway they are going to refer back to it #so i figured i should write it down so i can point at it if readers want to know wtf they are talking about #is there an #arthurian legend #tag?#i purposefully haven't looked i don't go here if there is a here to go #but fuck it that was a lot of work might as well see #anyway there are so many things to dig into here #arthur's role or lack thereof #(the rest of the book has a lot more to do with him)#the treatment of fate and prophesy #the courtly love tradition #how this fits into the arthurian tradition as a whole #and the clear french influence #vs the old celtic stories #also so many fun things about language in general #did you know that paramour is derived basically the same way as paramilitary?#'para' as 'beyond that which is regular'#also in middle english negatives are additive rather than canceling each out out!#fun facts

83 notes · View notes

wombywoo · 6 months

Text

Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~

Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️

First things first--references!

Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃

As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:

Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅

Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️

(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)

Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~

When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:

Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️

Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:

It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.

The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.

Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.

It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️

Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍

Now onto the background!

It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙

I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️

Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..

Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.

Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏

And now--rendering!

I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪

I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:

Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.

This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪

A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️

I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~

Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚

They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can

Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~

The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍

And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:

Tada!! It's done!

All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️

I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~

As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:

A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭

Anyway! peace out ✌️

#tutorial #my art #art tutorial #since people have been asking #I remembered to save my process from this latest work~#enjoy 🙆‍♀️

1K notes · View notes

officialclangen · 3 months

Text

ClanGen Resources Masterpost

Something not so cool is that you can really only find the majority of our resources via our Discord server, and that's frustrating and exclusionary. We get it! To help bridge that gap, Fable and Chibi have put together a list of our most useful resources.

This will be kept updated and maintained for all our friends on Tumblr, we hope folks find this helpful! All of these resources are made by the amazing members of our community. Thank you all for loving our game!

Download Guides

Image Heavy ☆ No Images ☆ Screenreader Friendly Our official guides for how to download the games. Look here if you need a helping hand!

Amaa's/Selkirks' Text Guide

Stable Release ☆ Development Version These guides are meant for save-file editing, giving you a quick resource to refer to when you want to change things about your cats! Amaa no longer works on this sheet, but Selkirks has taken over!

Kenz's Visual Sprite Guide

Stable Release ☆ Development Version Ever wondered what a sienna masked tabby looked like? Wanted to know just how many white patches there truly are? Look no further than here!

Taz's Guide to Tints

☆ Link ☆ This spreadsheet does the (very ambitious!) task of showing every tint on every pelt pattern with every colour! It is not updated with masked tabbies, but otherwise is fully complete!

Cere's Tortie Guide

☆ Link ☆ Coding in a tortoiseshell or calico can be frustrating. This concise, easy-to-follow guide goes over how to do it, complete with examples!

Cere's Conditions List & Scribble's Conditions Guide

Cere's List ☆ Scribble's Guide These two guides go hand-in-hand (or... paw-in-paw?) to walk you through editing in conditions for your cats!

Acorn's Inheritance Guide

☆ Link ☆ Have you ever wondered just how ClanGen determines what a litter of kittens might look like? How in-depth IS our genetics system, anyways?! The wonderful Acorn will walk you through it here!

BlackKat's Wildcard Tortie Checker

☆ Link ☆ This spreadsheet helps determine whether or not a tortoiseshell cat is a wildcard or not! Not sure what a wildcard is? See here!

Citrus' Clan Organizer

☆ Link ☆ A beautiful spreadsheet that helps track and organize your ClanGen Clans, for those who enjoy things like that!

Various Tumblr Resources

What can I expect, joining the Discord? I want to have the day-time backgrounds, but on dark mode!

#clangen #warrior cats #clan generator #clan gen #resource

914 notes · View notes

eddies-ashtray · 1 year

Text

You Get Me Closer To God // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: Your best friend sleeps over.

WC: 2.3k

Category: Smut (18+).

Content: Friends to lovers, mean, pervy Eddie, dom/sub dynamics (?), virgin!reader, name calling (of the ‘whore’ & ‘slut’ variety), nice nicknames (of the ‘sweetheart’ & ‘baby’ variety), 1 dacryphilia mention, mocking, dumbification if you squint, humiliation kink ig, teasing, vaginal penetration without the use of a condom (don’t try this at home, folks), some hand-on-neck action + a squeeze but no actual choking, multiple orgasms, and Eddie referring to himself as ‘master’ a grand total of one (1) time!

♡*♡*♡

You weren’t sure how it had happened, but your best friend was on top of you. His cock was hard against your thigh. His gentle breath was fanning across your face.

It was supposed to be a regular sleepover at your house. But then there had been this energy in the air. This tension. It wasn’t new, you’d felt it before. You’d felt it every night he’d slept in bed with you and hadn’t touched you. Every morning you woke up and felt his hardness against your ass, but pretended like it wasn’t there. But now, here he was, above you, his hand stuffed up your shirt, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You whimper weakly below him.

With only the low light of your nightlight in the corner of your bedroom, all you can see is his face. Those deep brown eyes staring intently into yours. Measuring your every movement, your every breath.

“Fuck, look at you,” Eddie says, pain lacing his tone. You shiver involuntarily at his words and gasp sharply when he tweaks your nipple meanly between his fingers. Wetness drips from your slick hole like it’s weeping, crying out for him. “I knew you were a virgin, but Christ, sweetheart, no one’s ever even groped your pretty tits before, have they?” Eddie asks rhetorically, squeezing your breast to emphasize his point.

Your resulting squeak is answer enough for him. You feel like you could cry, it’s all so overwhelming; his body weight on top of you–somehow menacing, but comforting all at once–, his rough hands groping you, his proximity, his scent, his words.

Tilting his head at you, Eddie coos at your pout, at the glassy quality of your eyes.

“You’re just a pathetic little virgin, huh? Too shy to tell me what you want. Bet you’d let me do anything I wanted to you. Isn’t that right, angel?”

Your face warms and you feel hot all over as your cunt throbs desperately. You would let him do anything he wanted to you. So you nod ever so slightly and Eddie’s brows knit together.

“Of course you would. Cause even though no one’s stuffed you full of cock yet, you’re just a desperate whore.”

Whining at his words, your back arches into his body, trying to get impossibly closer, trying to fuse as one.

“Yes,” You agree.

Eddie rolls his hips into yours and groans at the friction. He’s only in his boxers, that’s how he sleeps. Even when he’s in bed with you. He’s thick and long and you need him inside of you right now. You think you might die or explode or scream if he doesn’t stuff you full at this very moment. But you know he won’t. Because he wants to torture you. Wants to rile you up, make you cry. He’d told you so, confessed it to you in the darkness just before this all began.

“And because you’re a desperate whore, I bet your panties are soaked. I bet you’re drenched and leaking onto the sheets…Why don’t I check?”

Nodding vigorously, you beg, “Please, please.”

With that, his hand begins its slow descent down your body, his rough palm running down the length of your torso until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts. Instead of sliding underneath them however, Eddie keeps his hand moving. You gasp as it passes over your mound, and then choke out a moan when his large hand cups your hot cunt, pressing into the soft material of your shorts and rubbing harshly.

“Oh, look at that. You soaked right through your shorts, baby. How pathetic,” Eddie teases, then leans down as he continues rubbing you harshly over your shorts. His mouth envelopes your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, nipping at it.

You whine underneath him, kicking your legs out in frustration.

“Eddie, please! I want-” But you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. Not even now when he has you shaking beneath him from a simple hand over your sex.

His movements cease and his mouth releases your breast with a pop. Eddie stares up at you darkly, his eyes simmering in the low light.

“What was that?”

“I-I-” You stutter, unable to just say it.

Eddie removes his hand from you completely and you whine again, pout returning to your lips.

“Tell me or I leave you here, wet, and hot, and needing, while I go tug my cock in the bathroom,” He threatens, and you know he’s serious. Know that he would leave you here. Know that he would go straight to your bathroom, pull his cock free from his boxers, and you would be cursed to listen to the slick sound of his hand tugging at his cock until he came over his fist.

You huff like a petulant child, not wanting to have to say it. Not wanting to admit it aloud.

“Fine,” Eddie says, pushing himself off of you.

“Wait!” You whisper-shout in a panic. Eddie stops, but doesn’t lower himself back over you quite yet.

His brow quirks.

When you don’t say anything for a moment, Eddie says, “I’m waiting.”

Sighing and squeezing your eyes shut in complete humiliation, you will the words to leave your mouth.

“I need your–your cock,” You say, whispering the final word far quieter than the first three.

Eyes still squeezed shut, you can’t tell what Eddie’s reaction had been. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. So, you open one of your eyes slowly, trying to sneak a peak at him.

“Say it again,” Eddie demands when your one eye finds his. “Louder. Eyes open.”

You open your other eye. Eddie holds eye contact, tilts his head at you expectantly.

Drawing in a breath, you muster all the courage in your body to try and say it again.

“I need your cock.”

Eddie’s lips quirk up in a smirk as he lowers himself back onto you and leans in closely, down by your ear; so close his lips graze the sensitive skin of your lobe.

“Good girl.”

You huff, frustrated by his teasing, but your belly burns with lust, betraying the air of annoyance you’re trying to give off.

“But first… I wanna play with this sweet, little cunt.”

You barely have time to register his words, to allow them to sink in and affect you before Eddie is tearing your shorts down your legs in one quick motion and literally tearing your panties in two. Just as quickly, his nimble fingers are drawing slick up from the leaking well of your hole, all the way up to your throbbing clit.

Your arms fly to his shoulders, longing for something to hold onto. “Fuck!”

“There you go, sweetheart. I know it feels good, let it out,” Eddie encourages as his index finger rubs a harsh pattern against the hard little button.

“Mmph!” You squeak, slamming your eyes shut and shoving your face into your shoulder. It feels so much better than your own fingers, so much better than when you shamefully rub the little nub to thoughts of your long-haired, ring-wearing, metal-obsessed best friend until you soak your panties with your cum.

“Nuh-uh, give me your eyes, baby. Give me your eyes, or I stop.”

Reluctantly, you open your eyes, but can’t bring yourself to tilt your head so you’re face-to-face with the man who’s touching you. When you don’t do as you’re told, Eddie’s free hand comes up from its place on your hip where he was holding you down to grip your face meanly, squashing your cheeks together and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

Your mouth falls open in a wanton moan, brows knitted together at the pleasure-pain, at his meanness. Eddie mocks you, his mouth dropping open with an embarrassing imitation of the sound that just left you. It just makes you wetter, makes you gush over his fingers as they speed up over your clit.

“G-gonna cum!”

“Aw, how cute,” Eddie coos. “Can’t even last a full five minutes with my fingers on this sweet little button.”

And you can’t. His mean teasing is what shoves you over the edge. What has you pushing your head back into the pillow below your head while little pops of light explode behind your eyelids. While tension uncoils in your belly and your hole clenches pathetically around nothing.

Heaving in great breaths as you come down, Eddie continues his assault on your clit. You whine, shrinking away from his touch. But Eddie doesn’t stop.

“Too sensitive,” You whine, pouting up at him.

“Don’t care. Wanna see you cum again,” Eddie demands, leaning down to kiss and suck marks into your neck. You gasp at the sting of pain before Eddie soothes over the mark with his tongue. The sensation makes you shiver.

“Can I-can I at least have your cock?” You ask, still trembling, and you have no idea where the confidence to say this came from, but it halts his movements, and Eddie pulls back to look you in the face. He eyes you with curiosity.

His free hand comes up from your hip once again, rising goosebumps over your belly and your chest, before stopping at the base of your throat. Ever so slowly, his hand wraps around your neck, and he squeezes gently once. Your eyes are pleading, but confused. Curious.

“Okay,” Eddie replies simply.

His answer surprises you. You were expecting him to mock you or outright say no and continue rubbing your sensitive clit.

“But you owe me two more orgasms now,” Eddie conditions, and you swallow harshly. Of course his answer had come with a price.

You’ve never cum more than once, how are you supposed to give him two more? But you can’t resist; your hole clenching around nothing when you’d cum had made you want to cry. You’ve never felt so empty in your life. So, you agree. And the second you do, Eddie is shoving his boxers down and pushing your legs apart, lining himself up with your slick entrance.

He doesn’t push in right away though. He paints his pink tip up your messy cunt and rubs it harshly into your clit, causing you to whimper in pleasure-pain.

Sniffling, you beg, “Please, Eddie. Want it inside.”

“You just look so cute like this, though. Clenching around nothing, a sticky mess of your own cum. You’re too sweet for your own good.”

“But-” Before you can finish the rest of your complaint, Eddie grips himself at the base and guides his cock down to your weeping hole, pushing just the leaking tip inside. You gasp in shock.

Then, he pushes in all the way, stuffs you so full you can’t remember where you end and he begins. And it hurts. But not as much as you thought it might. Just a little pressure, a slight pinch. But you’re wet enough that he just slides in easily, and the sound. Oh, God, the sound! It’s slick and dirty and so delicious.

Eddie groans at the perfect slide, at the velvety feeling of your walls around him, so tight, little stars appear in his vision. His arms are braced by your head, causing his hair to become a curtain around you, unable to see anything else but him. Unable to feel anything else but him.

His thrusts are slow and so, so deep. He reaches a place inside of you you hadn’t known existed before tonight.

Your hands come up around his neck and tangle in his hair at the base of his neck.

“You like being full, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, bringing his hand up to brush the sweat off your brow.

“Y-yes…Oh, God,” You moan when his thrusts become harder. Not any faster, just harder, slamming right into a glorious spot inside of you. “There! Right there!”

“Oh, that’s it, huh? There you go…I know, baby, I got you,” He says, repeatedly thrusting in at the same rhythm and angle, hitting that wonderful spot every single time. Then, he brings one of his hands down and starts to toy with your clit again. Most of the sensitivity you had felt earlier is gone now. It only intensifies your pleasure.

“Fuck! Feels good.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum again?”

“Mhm, please!”

“Okay, sweet thing, okay,” Eddie consoles, far sweeter than before as he continues rubbing your clit. And it feels good, but something is missing. And you’re so far gone by now that you feel no shame when you say: “Want you to be mean again. Please.”

Chucking darkly, Eddie applies more pressure into your clit and you nearly scream.

“Now that’s pathetic. You’re just a dumb slut who needs to be bullied in order to cum, is that it?”

“Yes!” You admit.

Eddie’s thrusts become quicker now as his thumb flies over your clit. He moans, head falling into the crook of your neck, trying his hardest not to cum just yet.

“Cum for me then. Cum for your master like the good, stupid slut you are,” Eddie demands in a strained voice, his hips crashing into yours with a force that shoves you further up the bed.

It’s that which pushes you over. His meanness and his dirty pace and rhythm. Cumming for the second time tonight, your ears ring and you can’t even hear yourself whining as you gush all over his cock, clenching around him, feeling deliciously full of him.

Vaguely, after a moment, you hear Eddie’s voice. Something like, such a good girl, did so well. Slowly, you come back to the world, and you can feel him inside of you still. Still hard.

Eddie is stroking your cheek softly with his clean thumb.

“There she is,” He says when your eyes finally focus on him. You smile lazily up at him, drunk on his cock. “Feelin’ good?”

“Mhm,” You hum, totally blissed out, ready to pass out right this second.

“Good. Cause we’re gonna do it again. Because you, my sweet thing, owe me one more.”

#i have a love/hate relationship with this #i hope you dont hate it!#eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot

6K notes · View notes

ravengards-rogue · 1 month

Text

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#zero.writes #rogues love letters #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fluff #red dead redemption x reader #this is so lovesick and silly i feel so miserable #I AM A JOHN GIRL. BUT. well that deadbeat father and bastard isnt gonna write you love letters like arthur im afraid

628 notes · View notes

eeldritchblast · 8 months

Text

They’re Not “Playersexual”, You’re Just Biphobic

(I was going to save this until September 23 because I thought that would be an appropriate date, but the Ask I got included in this essay just put me over the edge. So, here it is now. Buckle up.)

Bisexuality/Pansexuality is the attraction to people regardless of gender. About 4% of the USA alone (over 13.6 million people) openly identify as bisexual, according to Gallup’s latest polling. But unfortunately, bi/pan identities are so scary to some folks that they need to make up terms to avoid calling their favourite characters such. Thus, the term “playersexual” was born: a term to describe a game character who is attracted to the player character... regardless of gender.

If that sounds like it’s just a circuitous way of describing a bi/pan character, it’s because it is.

I first heard of the term “playersexual” almost a decade ago, from a Dragon Age fan complaining that Dorian was gay and thus it was “unfair” that she couldn’t romance him as female character. This fan said they wished BioWare would go back to Dragon Age II’s model of everyone being “playersexual” for “equality”.

Now, if you’ve actually played DA:2 and you’re not a bigot, you’re probably rolling your eyes just as hard as I did when I first read such a ridiculous statement. Well, prepare for this next one:

“When you make a male Hawke, Anders and Fenris are gay and Merrill is straight. Opposite is true if you make a female Hawke.”

These people are so afraid of bisexuality that they cannot even fathom its existence. They can believe in dragons and magic, but they cannot believe that a character is simply bi/pan. I find this especially hilarious for Anders, considering he had a canonical boyfriend, as confirmed both in-game and in The World of Thedas: Vol. 2 book.

I truly thought we were past this nonsense in 2023. I really, truly thought that. But then Baldur’s Gate 3 was released in full, and suddenly these same fuckers came out of the woodwork to bend over backwards avoiding calling these characters anything except bi/pan.

Note how in the above Ask, the anonymous questioner actually doubles down on avoiding addressing these two characters in particular as bi/pan!

“Playersexual” doesn’t even truly work for the characters of Baldur’s Gate 3 regardless, because the definition is oriented around attraction to the player character… which these characters are not exclusively attracted to. Here are some examples that prove otherwise:

If neither Lae’zel nor Astarion/Gale/Wyll are in a romance with the PC, Lae’zel will say she plans on propositioning one of the men for sex at the night of the tiefling party. She also flirts with Karlach in party banter.

Shadowheart expresses interest in Karlach, (“I like her. She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety, should the need arise”) as well as Halsin if he leaves the party, (“he may have been misguided, but I liked looking at him.”)

Astarion flirts with nearly everyone in the party, but to just pick two examples: he mentions Wyll is the type of princely figure he used to dream about marrying, and says to Shadowheart “such a grim name for such a beautiful flower”.

Gale used to date Mystra. He also debatably flirts with Astarion by offering him some blood, after Cazador’s battle.

Wyll flirts with Lae’zel in party banter, and also refers to Halsin as a “delight” and “hunk”.

Karlach seems to have a little crush on Jaheira by the way she reacts to meeting her. She also says of Halsin, “everyone in this camp wants to climb that oak”.

Please keep in mind these are just a few examples I’ve picked out from screening through the dialogue, and there’s even more that prove the attraction to different genders these characters have is not related solely to the player. It’s just part of their identities.

In the Ask sent to me above, the anonymous questioner said they “cannot see Karlach as anything except lesbian and Astarion as gay.” This is just as bad as saying they are “playersexual” in my opinion, because yet again it’s erasing their bisexuality/pansexuality. Worse yet, it’s doing it because of the way the characters act. You cannot measure queerness based on actions and appearances being in line or not with queer stereotypes—it’s not a scale! And bi/pan folks are just as queer as lesbian and gay men, by virtue of simply being bi/pan!

All in all, I think this entire “playersexual” debate boils down to the fact that some people still refuse to see bi/pan identities as anything but “discount straight”. And that’s why people are rightfully angry when folks try to further this myth by pretending bi/pan characters don’t actually exist.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #queerphobia #biphobia #panphobia

1K notes · View notes

rvp32 · 7 months

Text

The Games We Play: A Tale of Lust

TW: Litle BDSM, edging, overstimulation, spanking, Fingering

The morning didn't kick off on the best foot; your coffee maker chose today to call it quits, depriving you of that one blessed potion that tethers your sanity and prevents you from going all rogue. But hey, the day took a turn into interesting territory when you found yourself trapped in the corner store.

Picture this: a young woman wrapped up like a mystery package from head to toe, was in full-blown panic mode, tearing her surroundings apart in search of her elusive wallet. And what's the big deal, you might ask? She was in a race against the clock, not wanting to miss a date with destiny, also known as a crucial meeting.

No need for Shakespearean monologues here. You stroll over to the cashier, cool as a cucumber, and flash your card. The cashier does her beep-boop thing, wrapping up the transaction with a flourish. Meanwhile, your attention shifts to the enigmatic woman in distress. Your lips don't even need to flex those vocal cords to convey your message, "Miss, let me cover this tab."

With a nod that could put a ballerina to shame, you collect your goods and graciously extend the bag with her belongings. It's like an unspoken understanding, a scene right out of a modern fairy tale.

Exiting the store, you're just about to slide into your trusty vehicle when a voice, as sweet as honey and warm as a summer breeze, pierces the air, "Thank you!!" It's her, the masked damsel in this retail distress. In response, your lips curl up in a smile that’s more contagious than a chuckle.

A courteous nod on your part, a grateful chirp on hers, and you’re on your way, ready to chase down whatever adventure the day's got planned for you. Just as you’re about to speed off to your meeting.

*****

The office had that early morning hush, a quiet anticipation hanging in the air as folks trickled in, not quite ready to dive into the grind just yet. You found your way to your designated corner room, plopped your stuff down, and decided to indulge in a quick social media scroll.

Just as you were lost in their world, a voice, as familiar as your heartbeat, cut through the calm. It was none other than Roh Jisun, not just a colleague, but one of your closest pals and your trusty secretary.

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Who got you smiling like an idiot, don't tell me you finally got yourself a girlfriend."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good morning to you too, Ji. You know me, I don't do the girlfriend thing. Just enjoying some highlights from the football games," you replied, setting your phone aside. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"Well, lucky for you, there isn't much on the schedule today," Jisun replied, wisely steering clear of your notoriously dry love life. "Just a meeting with an idol for a brand endorsement and some documents to review."

Your eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes! That means I can head home early today. Let me know when they arrive; I'll dive into some reference material so I don't sound like a complete idiot."

Jisun chuckled at your candidness and made her exit.

With files spread across your desk, you delved into the world of this idol selected by the marketing wizards. She was no ordinary star; she was the crème de la crème, one of the hottest idols of the current generation. Since your knowledge about idols was about as deep as a puddle, the files laid it all out for you - background info, detailed analysis, the works.

As you neared the end of the file, the section with photos, you were hit with a punch of awe. To say she was pretty was like calling a sunset 'nice.' She looked like an angel who had graced Earth, but there was an undeniable fragility about her. The images had you entranced, lost in admiration.

A polite knock at your door brought you back to reality. "Sir, the folks from Starship Entertainment are here to discuss the brand endorsement deal," Jisun reported in her professional tone. "Should I let them in?"

"Please, do," you nodded.

One by one, three individuals entered the room. And then, as if fate had a wicked sense of humor, she walked in. The same woman you'd crossed paths with at the convenience store, only now she was without her mask and hat.

"Oh, what a coincidence," you remarked, extending your hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Wonyoung."

Her eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude. "It truly is! I can't believe the chances. Again, thank you so much for helping me out." Her smile could light up a city.

"Please, have a seat."

The negotiations flowed seamlessly, and everything fell into place. The deal was set, and a date was locked in for the commercial shoot. "I'm looking forward to working with you. Thanks for your cooperation. Here's to this reaching the heights we're hoping for."

As they left, you settled back in your chair. But a mere moment later, there was a knock on your door, followed by Wonyoung's head peeping in.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, curious about her return.

"I want to thank you for helping me out today, so please let me treat you to dinner," Wonyoung offered.

"Alright, just let me know when and where to pick you up," you replied, raising an eyebrow at the surprise on Wonyoung's face. "That was easier than I expected. Can I get your phone number? You know, to text you the details."

A sly smirk played on your lips as you motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated for a moment before approaching, maintaining eye contact without saying a word.

"You know, Miss Wonyoung, I need your phone to input my number, unless you've got a photographic memory," you teased, causing a blush to creep up on her cheeks. She fumbled for her phone in her handbag, and you deftly entered your number. Handing her phone back to her, you remarked, "It's a bad habit to stare at someone, Miss Wonyoung."

"I'm really sorry, I didn't realize I was staring. I'll text you the details. See you then," Wonyoung practically bolted out of your office.

Shortly after, Jisun walked in, her voice carrying a hint of sternness. "What was all that about? What did you say to make that angel run away?"

"Calm down, Ji. I just teased her a little. She wanted to thank me for helping her," you replied casually, not missing a beat as you continued to read the documents.

"You'll never change. Why does she want to thank you?" Jisun inquired, curious about the situation.

So you recounted the whole story about your chance encounter with Wonyoung. Jisun burst into laughter and commented, "Wow, it truly is an incredible coincidence."

You returned to your documents, but something else was occupying your thoughts, or rather, someone. Regardless of what the papers said, your mind kept drifting back to the interaction with Wonyoung. Her subtle nervous movements, the way she blushed at your teasing, and the pure excitement in her eyes when you agreed to her proposition—it all danced in your thoughts, like an enchanting melody that refused to fade.

After a few painstaking hours of wading through and approving a mountain of documents, you'd finally conquered the pile Jisun had left on your desk. Packing up your laptop, you decided it was high time to replace that dearly departed coffee machine. Strolling through the store, your gaze was momentarily captivated by a Pepsi ad featuring none other than Wonyoung's larger-than-life cut-out. You couldn't help but admire her beauty for a few seconds before shaking off the distraction and making your way to the appliances section.

With a new coffee machine in tow, you headed back home. It only took a couple of minutes to set up the shiny new addition to your kitchen. Eager to wash away the day's toil and dust, you headed for the shower. There, amidst the soothing cascade of water, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to Wonyoung and the unexpected events of the day.

The cold shower did wonders to invigorate both your mind and body. Afterward, you settled onto the couch and noticed a message from an unknown number. It was Wonyoung, inquiring if you would be free tomorrow evening. You quickly replied, confirming your availability.

Within moments, another message popped up, this time with a reservation at a well-established restaurant. You didn't argue with her choice and appreciated her initiative. With the dinner plans set, you wandered into the kitchen to prepare your meal for the day. Tonight, it was a simple yet delicious dish: rose pasta with grilled chicken thighs on the side.

Having savored your homemade dinner, you retreated to your cozy corner, book in hand. The words on the pages wove a soothing lullaby, and before you knew it, you had surrendered to the embrace of sleep, calling it a day.

********

The day seemed to fly by, yet the thought of Wonyoung lingered in your mind like an intoxicating poison. Numerous scenarios involving her had taken root in your thoughts, and it was fair to say that most of them were far from what people might expect. What you realized was that your attraction to Wonyoung wasn't of the romantic variety. It was something deeper, something about the way she seemed fragile and innocent that piqued your interest and stirred a side of you that rarely saw the light of day.

As the day drew to a close, it was finally time to pick up Wonyoung. Arriving at her house, you sent her a quick text to let her know you'd arrived. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Wonyoung in a stunning black off-the-shoulder dress.

"Good evening, Miss Wonyoung," you greeted with a warm smile, holding the car door open for her. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Good evening," she replied with a soft smile. "You're quite dashing yourself, Mr. CEO." With a final exchange of smiles, you closed the door and headed to the driver's seat.

"How was your day? I hope it wasn't too tiring," you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you as you drove.

"It was relaxing, honestly," Wonyoung replied with a smile that lit up the car. "It was my first day off in a while, so I finally got some good rest."

"That sounds wonderful. I apologize for monopolizing your precious free time then. I hope I can keep you entertained," you quipped, trying to tease her a bit.

Wonyoung's blush deepened, but she met your gaze with sincerity. "No, not at all. You seem like a very interesting person, and I would love to spend time with you."

Her direct response caught you off guard, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words. "That's very kind of you," you finally managed to reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips. "I look forward to getting to know you better as well. Maybe we can be friends."

You noticed a subtle change in Wonyoung's demeanor, her smile fading ever so slightly after your last comment, but you decided not to dwell on it. "What do you like to do during your free time, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"Please call me Wonyoung, you don't need to be so formal with me," she replied with a warm smile. "I love to read, hike, and watch shows," she added, her gaze wandering around the interior of the car.

"Alright, Wonyoung," you said with a playful twinkle in your eye. "Reading, hiking, and shows, huh? Sounds like you've got a nice mix of hobbies. Any recent favorites?"

She leaned back in her seat, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Well, I just finished a gripping mystery novel that had me up all night. And as for hiking, there's this trail I love near my place. It's so serene and peaceful."

You nodded, genuinely intrigued. "A mystery lover, huh? Any recommendations? I might need some new reads."

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Oh, definitely! I'll text you a list. And speaking of recommendations, any favorite shows or movies on your end?"

You chuckled, realizing you might be in for some teasing. "Well, lately I've been into documentaries a lot more than shows.."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. "I guess I was wrong about you being interesting."

You both shared a laugh, and the car seemed to hum with a newfound camaraderie. As the evening unfolded, you discovered more about each other's quirks, interests, and shared laughter. The chemistry between you was undeniable, with a hint of flirting and teasing that only added to the intrigue of your blossoming relationship.

The drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, even though it had been nearly half an hour. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself thoroughly enjoying Wonyoung's company. Arriving at the restaurant, you helped her out of the car. However, as you made your way toward the entrance, she stumbled, and instinctively, you reached out to prevent her from falling.

In that brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes locked, and the air between you thickened with an undeniable tension. It was as if an electric current passed between you, and before you knew it, she leaned in, and your lips met in a kiss that felt heavenly, charged with a depth of feeling that took you both by surprise.

Her lips tasted divine, and as you pulled her closer, your mind wandered to places that were vastly different from the sweetness of the moment. Desires and tastes that diverged from the mainstream public swirled in your thoughts, and it shook you to your core. You pushed her away, breaking the kiss abruptly.

Wonyoung's shock was evident in her doe-like eyes, now brimming with tears. "Wonyoung, we shouldn't do this," you stammered, your voice strained with difficulty. "I'm not the right person for you. You deserve someone better. I'm not the person you think I am."

Deep down, you yearned for more, to ravish those heavenly lips and her enchanting body. But you knew, for both your sakes, this path was fraught with complications you didn’t want to put her through because it would destroy her innocence.

"Wait, are you gay? I'm so sorry; I should have been more careful. Please forget this ha—" Wonyoung began, but you cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "No, I'm not gay," you replied. "It's just that I have certain... something else. Let's just get dinner, and I'll show you what I mean afterward," you said, hoping to evade the topic.

Walking towards the restaurant, with Wonyoung following closely, her curiosity got the better of her, and she pestered you with questions. "Tell me what it is. It can't be that bad, I'm pretty open-minded. Please tell me; I'm so curious!"

You shot her a stern glare that left her looking shocked, but she quickly pushed back. "That glare isn't going to shut me up. So tell me what it is, and I'll shut up."

Before you could respond, the waitress arrived to take your order. You ordered for both of you without giving Wonyoung a chance to continue her line of questioning. As she filled the water glasses, you placed one in front of Wonyoung and instructed, "Drink it." She did so without protest.

"If you aren't going to tell me, at least let me guess, and you just say yes or no," Wonyoung suggested, her curiosity undiminished.

Wonyoung's questions came one after another, each one prying into the mysterious aspect of your life. You responded with straightforward "yes" or "no" answers, hoping to keep the conversation from delving too deep.

"Are you a criminal?" she inquired.

"No."

"Does it have something to do with your sexuality?"

"No."

"Do you have any medical issues?" Her gaze traveled in an unexpected direction.

"What? No, I'm perfectly healthy!" you retorted, feeling a bit flustered.

"Is it something related to your preferences in bed?" she ventured.

This time, you simply nodded.

Her response was unexpected, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Oh, spicy. Are you perhaps into BDSM and power dynamics?"

Although you didn't verbalize a confirmation, your expression said it all. You were taken aback by how quickly she pieced it together.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I got it so fast," she exclaimed. However, her lack of further comment left you in an awkward silence, uncertain about how she truly felt about your revelation. It seemed she either felt uncomfortable discussing it or maybe had her own reasons for not pursuing the topic further.

Before you could say anything more, the food arrived, and you decided not to probe any further, not wanting to spoil the mood any further.

As the meal continued, you couldn't help but notice that Wonyoung wasn't eating properly. Her playful approach to her food caught your attention. "Wonyoung, eat properly. Don't play with your food," you advised, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum in the restaurant.

Wonyoung responded with a mischievous smirk. "What if I don't want to?" she teased, her words carrying a hint of suggestion. "Are you going to punish me for being a bad girl, Daddy?"

Her remark left you momentarily flustered and choking on the food, a rush of thoughts and desires flooding your mind. You quickly regained your composure, though, and tried to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Let's just enjoy our meal," you suggested, hoping to quell the tension that had unexpectedly arisen.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Wonyoung had insisted on paying the bill as a gesture of thanks, but you had already settled it before she could reach for her wallet.

"I was supposed to treat you as a thank you!" she protested.

You brushed off her protests with a gentle smile. "Consider it my way of saying thank you for entertaining me."

The two of you left the restaurant, and Wonyoung followed closely as you made your way back to the car. The silence continued, hanging heavily between you. Then, out of the blue, Wonyoung broke it with words you never expected to hear from her pretty lips.

"I want to experience how you control others. How you will fuck me and make me beg"

The shock of her words hit you like a jolt of electricity, causing you to slam on the brakes and bring the car to a sudden stop at the side of the empty road.

Locking eyes with Wonyoung, you delivered your words with a firm and almost grave tone. "No, you don't," you asserted. "The things I do aren't like what you watch in movies. And even if you were serious about this, I don't believe your fragile body could handle it. Pretty things can be easily broken if not taken care of. What I do doesn't show much care for you; it would push both your mind and body to the limit."

Your words were a serious cautionary note, aimed at changing her thoughts and preventing her from a path that held potential danger and discomfort.

Wonyoung's smirk persisted, and a playful tone danced in her voice. "'I'm not as fragile as you think I am. Moreover, I don't believe you have what it takes to break me, Daddy,'" she quipped, her words filled with a hint of teasing. "On a more serious note, I honestly think you're all talk. There's no way you can actually make someone beg."

Wonyoung's taunting and challenging tone persisted as you continued the drive. She seemed entirely unshaken by the gravity of the topic, and her curiosity was piqued.

"So, Mr. CEO," she continued, her voice laced with playful skepticism, "are you saying you can make someone beg for your control? You must have some secret weapon or technique, right?"

Your eyes remained fixed on the road, and you responded, your tone still cautious. "It's not about a secret weapon or technique, Wonyoung. It's about understanding boundaries, trust, and consent. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Wonyoung, however, seemed determined to push your buttons further. "Boundaries, trust, and consent? Those sound so boring and safe. Where's the excitement in that?"

You let out a sigh, recognizing that she was testing your resolve. "There's a difference between excitement and recklessness. What I do, or rather, what I've explored in the past, is not a game. It's a realm that requires responsibility and understanding, especially when it comes to the well-being of all parties involved."

Wonyoung leaned back in her seat, a challenging glint in her eye. "I still don't buy it, Mr. CEO. You'll have to prove it to me."

Wonyoung's taunting continued unabated, and it was clear that she was enjoying pushing your boundaries. She leaned closer, her tone dripping with mischief. "Come on, Mr. CEO, don't be so serious. Show me what you've got. Make me beg or are you going to be a coward and run away?"

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you felt the tension in the car reach a boiling point. You had tried to warn her, to convey the gravity of what she was asking, but she seemed intent on testing you.

Finally, unable to contain your frustration any longer, you slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt by the side of the road. Without thinking, your hands found their way to Wonyoung's throat, fingers pressing firmly against her delicate skin. The shock in her eyes mirrored your own as you choked out the words, "You have no idea what you're asking for, Wonyoung." She releases a small moan.

The moment hung in the air, charged with a dangerous energy, and you realized that you had crossed a line you couldn't uncross. Wonyoung's playful taunts had ignited something within you, a darkness you had long kept in check.

Your responsibilities, your reputation, and everything else faded into insignificance as you drove to your house, your mind consumed by a primal desire. Once you stepped inside, there was no turning back. You pulled Wonyoung with you, and in the dimly lit hallway, you pinned her forcefully against the wall.

Your hand gripped her throat, and the other held her wrists firmly above her head. The room seemed to close in around you both as you whispered into her ears, your voice laced with a warning and a final chance for her to bail out. "Is this what you wanted, Wonyoung? This is your last chance. After this, there's no turning back."

The intensity in your eyes burned as you awaited her response, the gravity of the moment weighing heavily on both of you.

“Yes, This is what I wanted, for you to restrain me and have your way with me,” Wonyoung says, her eyes filled with determination, to experience what it feels like to let someone have complete control over what happens to your body.

You immediately kiss her, the kiss unlike last time was harsh, filled with lust. Both your tongues exploring each other's mouths. Sliding a knee in between her legs causes her to moan into the kiss.

Wonyoung grinds on your thighs, enjoying the friction. You let go of her throat and hands, now exploring her body but ending up on her ass, squeezing it and feeling her stiffen up with the contact.

Breaking away from the kiss you pull Wonyoung toward the room that you kept locked away from everyone. Wonyoung followed obediently. Once the door is open you push Wonyoung into the room and she falls onto the bed.

“Take off your clothes,” It wasn’t a request but a command that Wonyoung obeyed. Watching her remove her dress was like watching a movie unfold, it slowly got better. Now she was in her bra and panties.

“Kneel,” After Wonyoung's obedient response, you left the room momentarily to get changed. The air was heavy with anticipation, and every moment seemed to stretch.

You returned to the room, your presence felt as you stood behind Wonyoung. Your fingers began to braid her long and silky hair, a soothing and intimate gesture that contrasted with the intensity of the situation.

As you worked on her hair, you explained the dynamics of what was to come. "This is how it's going to go," you began, your voice firm yet reassuring. "You do everything I tell you to. If you do well, then I will reward you, and if you don't, you get punished. It's simple, isn't it?"

Wonyoung nodded, her trust in you evident. But you had one more important thing to convey. "One more thing," you added, your voice softening with genuine concern. "If at any point you think you can't handle something, say the color red. Everything that we're doing will stop immediately, and I will make sure you are fine. Your safety and well-being are my top priority."

With these words, you set the boundaries and the rules, ensuring that this journey would be a consensual and mutually satisfying experience for both of you.

With a gentle kiss on Wonyoung's neck, you left her in a state of heightened anticipation, a mix of confusion and excitement swirling within her. She could hear your movements but couldn't predict what would come next.

When you returned, it was with a blindfold in your hand. Placing it delicately over her eyes, you obscured her vision, taking away her ability to see. The loss of sight heightened her other senses, making her acutely aware of every sound, touch, and sensation. It also added an element of unpredictability, deepening the intrigue and excitement of what was to come in this shared exploration.

In the dimly lit room, a tremor of excitement ran through you. Here, within these four walls, everything was under your control. It was an opportunity to satisfy a desire that had remained hidden from the world, a longing that had been kept secret. The urge to witness vulnerability, to see tears, and to have someone willingly surrender themselves to your complete mercy had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.

With every breath, every whispered command, and every touch, you were stepping into the territory you had long kept locked away.

With a firm but controlled grip on the newly braided hair, you pulled Wonyoung up and whispered into her ear, your voice dripping with stern intent. "I'm going to make you regret every single word you said during the car ride, Princess."

Wonyoung shivered in response, the weight of your words sinking in, a mixture of anticipation and fear coursing through her.

Wonyoung yelped in surprise as you pushed her onto the bed, and her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. She had entered a realm of unknown sensations and desires, and the anticipation of what would happen next was palpable.

The sound of your footsteps drew her attention, and she turned her head in your direction. As you joined her on the silk, a hard slap landed on her cute butt.*Yelp* It was a sharp, stinging sensation that sent a jolt of electricity through her, awakening new sensations and desires that she had only begun to explore.

Slowly unclasping her bra, you squeeze her ass and give it a couple of spanks. Wonyoung is now whimpering. “Spank yourself, Princess, it better be hard, I want to see your handprint on that cute ass of yours,” Leaving Wonyoung by herself, you grab a pair of leather handcuffs.

Your tone shifted from stern to gentle as you cooed comforting words to Wonyoung. "That's enough," you murmured soothingly. "You did such a good job, princess, such a good girl."

With a reassuring touch, you grabbed both of her hands and cuffed them, ensuring they were secured firmly, making it clear that she wouldn't be able to escape from your grasp.

You introduced a new element to the unfolding scene, a game that would both challenge and please. With a commanding tone, you explained the rules to Wonyoung. "Now let's play a game," you began, your voice unwavering. "For every slap, you will count and apologize for being a brat."

Wonyoung nodded in compliance, but you demanded more. "Use your words, princess. You are a human, after all, aren't you?"

With a submissive "Yes, sir," she complied.

The first slap landed firmly, and Wonyoung counted, "1, I'm sorry for being a brat." You repeated the action, the impact slightly harder, and she continued, "2, I'm sorry for being a brat." The third strike came down, causing her to gasp with a mix of pain and arousal. "Ah!! 3, I'm sorry for being a brat."

Satisfied that she had apologized sufficiently, you reached for a glass of ice on the bedside table. Taking an ice cube, you placed it on the sensitive area where she had been struck. The sudden coldness against her heated skin made her gasp and squirm, but you held her firmly in place, introducing a thrilling contrast of sensations to the experience.

With a practiced ease, you flipped Wonyoung's petite body around, exposing her erect nipples and toned midriff. The anticipation in the room was palpable as you continued to explore the depths of desire between you.

Grabbing another ice cube, you placed it delicately on her left nipple, the sudden coldness on the sensitive spot causing Wonyoung to instinctively bring her hands down from above her head. But you were swift, catching her hands and placing them back where they belonged.

Taking the ice cube into your mouth, you traced a tantalizing path around her left mound, ensuring no part of her was left without attention. You moved to her right nipple, repeating the same maddeningly slow and sensual exploration while simultaneously pinching and playing with the other one.

Wonyoung's voice filled the room, a chorus of pleasure and desire escaping her lips as her body squirmed uncontrollably. Her legs rubbed together in a desperate attempt to find some relief from the various sensations that were overwhelming her senses, aching for release and satisfaction.

You continued your teasing exploration, trailing the ice cube slowly toward Wonyoung's belly button, relishing in the way her back curved from the heightened sensitivity. The room was filled with an electrifying tension, desire mounting with every passing moment.

Finally, you removed the one piece of clothing that was drenched, a clear indication of how excited Wonyoung had become. The ice cube hovered just above the spot that begged for the most attention. A simple act of blowing air on her very wet core caused Wonyoung to moan in desperation.

"Please," she managed to say, her mind clouded to the point where forming a coherent sentence was a challenge.

But you weren't ready to make it easy for her. "Please what, Princess?" you teased, relishing in her vulnerability.

Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she brought her hands down to cover it as she stammered, "Please touch me there."

You continued to push her boundaries, enjoying the game of control and surrender that had enveloped you both, as you whispered, "You have to be more specific, Princess. I've been touching you the entire time."

Wonyoung's initial response was mumbled and unclear, but when you demanded she speak louder, she screamed, "I want you to touch my pussy, please. I need it!"

Granting her request, you gently played with the swollen nub, eliciting a sharp reaction as her toes curled with the newfound sensation. After some tender foreplay, you decided to take it further, inserting one finger into her. Wonyoung's moans grew louder, her arousal undeniable.

Using your free hand to continue playing with her sensitive nub, you slowly pumped your finger in and out, savoring every sound and reaction she made.

But Wonyoung's desire burned fiercely, and she begged for more. "More, please. I need more," she pleaded, her voice dripping with need. "Please put one more finger or eat me out, please!"

You couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "Such a needy slut," you taunted, delivering a slap to her pussy that made her scream. "Only good girls get to make demands."

Desperate and on the edge, Wonyoung responded fervently, "I'm your good girl, Daddy. Please give me more. I need it so badly."

With a sense of control that heightened the intensity of the moment, you decided to edge Wonyoung, not once, but four times. Each time, you brought her right to the precipice of release and then denied her the ultimate satisfaction. It was an exquisite torture that pushed her desire to its limits.

The first time you edged her, her moans filled the room as you skillfully brought her to the brink, only to stop just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer. "Please," she begged, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, Daddy, let me come. I need it so much."

But you were relentless, and the second time you edged her was even more intense. Wonyoung's body quivered as she teetered on the edge of release, her pleas growing more urgent. "Please, please, I can't take it anymore. Please, let me come. I'll do anything."

The third time you edged her, her cries of frustration and longing filled the room. "Daddy, please," she whimpered, her body trembling with need. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. Just let me come."

But you denied her once again, pushing her to the limits of desire. The fourth time you edged her, Wonyoung was a writhing, desperate mess. "Please, Daddy," she sobbed, her voice cracking with need. "I need it so badly. Please, please, let me come. I'll do anything you want."

With your words of encouragement, you leaned down and moved closer to Wonyoung's ear, your breath hot against her skin. "Go ahead," you whispered sensually, "show me how much you needed it, show me what a slut you are!"

Nibbling on her ear, you continued your passionate ministrations, pushing her closer to the edge. Wonyoung finally let go, surrendering to the pleasure she had begged for and needed so desperately. Her back arched, her body trembled, and a stream of liquid gushed out, staining the perfect silk sheets beneath her.

Without giving her much time to recover, you immediately take out your cock and position yourself in front of her freshly used pussy. As you slowly move in, wonyoung’s body reacts to your cock by screaming and tightening around it. She was very tight, almost like this was her first time.

“Wait, slow down, please. I am so sensitive, Daddy, please! Wait!” Wonyoung pleads and you agree. Once she nods signaling that she is ready you continue till you bottom out.

“Oh God, you are filling me up so well” Wonyoung manages to say in between moans.

“Princess, can I start moving now?” You ask because you can no longer hold back. Wonyoung makes eye contact with you through the mirror across from the bed and says “Yes, Daddy”

With her permission you begin pounding like there is no tomorrow, Wonyoung responds with nothing but moans and occasional screams when you hit her sweet spot. Her moans are like melodies you will never get tired of hearing. Playing with her clit as you pound her push her over the edge as she orgasms again, “Fuck! Daddy!” Wonyoung screams.

Even though Wonyoung had reached her orgasm you continued to pound her tight pussy. “Please, please, too much, Daddy!” The overstimulation frying up nerves in her brain and sending her to a mental state she never knew she could possibly achieve.

Wonyoung brings her hands to stop you from moving but you grab them, her eyes rolled back and back arched as you continue pounding. “DADDY NOOO!”

“This is your punishment, baby, who said you could cum? This is your punishment!” You grunt as you put more force into the thrusts Every thrust sends waves of pleasure through Wonyoung’s body.

“AGH, GOD!!” Wonyoung screams she starts to mumble things that you can no longer understand, you continue to chase after your orgasm.

“Where do you want me to cum, Princess?” You ask as you reach closer to your peak.

“I-inside, Daddy” Wonyoung manages to say in between her loud moans.

“Fuck baby, Daddy is going to cum in your tight pussy,” You grunt,

“Yes, Daddy fill me up, I need to feel that warm cum in my pussy please!” finally Wonyoung manages to form a coherent sentence. With her explicit consent, you unload the biggest load of your life in Wonyoung’s pussy.

“Fuck, Princess that felt so good, You were such a good girl, my lovely princess,” you say after you envelop her in a hug and place a kiss on her forehead.

“Yes it was, I never knew pleasure could be so intense!” Wonyoung said as you pet her hair. Silence fell in the room but Wonyoung said “This is just the beginning right?”

Realizing how insatiable Wonyoung is and how good the sex is, you reply “ Yes, Princess. From today onwards you belong to me, you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy, I love the way you touched me. I need your touch, it's intoxicating and addicting” Wonyoung says as she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck.

#ive wonyoung #kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #bd/sm kink

1K notes · View notes

creatingblackcharacters · 1 month

Text

"Defying the Default"- Skin Tones and the Presence of Black Characters

Okay, this one is going to be half lesson and half a thought experiment- it may get a bit frustrating, as conversations like this often do- but remember, discomfort is not always a bad thing! So I ask that you walk with me for this one.

It’s also interesting, because I’m going to direct this towards everyone (readers included!), but specifically towards my fanfic writers of media with no visual medium, as I’ve noticed this pattern there, and it makes up a good amount of creators on this site. Okay? Okay.

Behold! Many shades of brown!

I had to wade through a lot of colorism for this, and even this link is subtly racist in its introduction- the idea that brown is ‘unexciting’ 🙄.

Anyway, you know where I’m going with this:

"Chocolate and Coffee"

Even the link above pulled this! Writers who use this... they’re not ‘wrong’ per se but… often uninspired. It feels... Lazy. When you can tell an author has put no thought into the brown of choice, it makes Black readers feel like you believe these are the only shades of brown- that that’s all we look like. Even chocolate is more diverse (white, milk, dark, marbled, cookies and cream?) Coffee can come in numerous shades as well (light, medium, dark roast? Type of bean?)

My first direction to help with this: make it a point to know what shade that character is (whether canonically, or if you're the original creator, look at a reference and write it down) and find a name! Be consistent! Find similar browns to one another. If the canon Black character's skin color is done poorly, find something similar and use that! (I'll get more into this in the next lesson!)

Our skin colors may modify as we age, it changes over the seasons/presence in the sun, and some people even have vitiligo! But we're not gonna be “dark roast coffee” one morning and “light milk chocolate” suddenly. We're not chameleons lmao.

And you know what? That shade you choose might very well be 'coffee'! But it's not going to be because you didn't look and assumed we're all some random brown! That’s the intent showing! If we can find endless ways to describe the beauty of white/pale skin, we absolutely can for brown! Be willing to unpack why you may not believe brown to be capable of beauty, and work through unlearning that- it will show in your writing! One way is by pausing with yourself, and recognizing when you had a biased thought. Even by this, you’re learning!

Here’s where I want us to get into the thought experiment:

I want you to think about the description of characters in stories (as a whole). Challenge yourself- in the fics and stories you read, how often is anyone blatantly labeled 'White'? Read a story or fic; how long can you imagine them as not-White before it's ever clarified? Because not even 'pale' automatically implies a White person!

You know how I’ve mentioned before that 'Black people are not a monolith'? I can find you at least some examples of Black people fitting some of the common descriptions of white characters.

"Brunette with brown eyes"

(Fun fact: I actually learned back in my Masters program that genetically no one has ‘black’ hair- our eyes are processing it as black, but it’s really just dark brown due to eumelanin. Regardless, if you stand us in the direct sunlight, you will see that our hair is usually just dark brown!)

"Red hair with pale skin"

“‘tanned’ skin with hazel/green eyes”

“blond hair" (period!)

Now, I’m not saying that blond haired Black people or Black folk with albinism are overly representative of my people. What I AM saying is that it needs to not be taken for granted that a reader is automatically assuming a character is White in your piece of fiction- I can assume your character looks like anything if it's not stated! Especially if the OG source is a book or a podcast! We’re just used to assigning these features- and characters- as white until ‘proven not’! The default!

I am guilty of this too! Even still, I reread many of my works and go ‘ah, I didn’t clarify.’ And I have to work on doing better at it. This is having intent for your Black characters, but really, it’s having intent for all of them!

(This doesn't mean going “the Black man said,” the way sometimes people say “the Chinese said” (which…. Tbh we should all stop doing that anyway, it's weird and racist))

My Next Challenge:

Some people may disagree, but- Ahem:

Say BLACK!

Breathe lmao! Take the time to recognize that it's OKAY to introduce a character as Black, to say Black, it's fine! Obviously be sensitive about it, don't shove it in there to “win your diversity points”, but like… People are Black. It's not a bad word. What matters is the context in which you used it!

You don't even have to say it every single time. Really just the first, introductory sentence will do. For example:

“[Character A], a bright, young, Black girl with knotless braids to her mid back, glittering hair clips matching her bright green t-shirt, and a brilliant smile that shined against her bistre skin.”

I recognize that some might argue that by saying “bistre”, you don't need to say Black. But 1) you don't have to be Black to be brown or dark skinned, and 2) There's a social stigma behind even saying Black- of discussing race in general, because it leads to discomfort. Race (as a sociological construct) exists. When we say nothing about it, allowing Whiteness to be the default, we're still emphasizing race, however silently! If you're already doing it... Why not mention it? 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

(here's a good clip of Ijeoma Oluo discussing the difficulty of discussing race; while I highly recommend the whole thing, the relevant clip is 4:25-5:39)

Maybe they're in the Black student organization in a lead position, maybe they're in a Black main cast of a play- it's okay to have those things in the story to help develop the idea that your Black character is actively Black! Just do your research to make sure you’re not leaning into stereotypes!

“There’s no races in my fantasy/future world!”

That’s fair! But I want to give you an example of how people will still project these identities onto your characters anyway:

No one has an explicitly stated 'race' in Avatar: The Last Airbender (afaik); they’re all divided by element culture. YET, many people were offended that a mixed-Korean actress was cast in her role in the live action- they ‘just didn’t see it’, because subconsciously they'd imagined her ‘face claims’ as WHITE, despite it never once being mentioned in the canon! (there’s also a firm sexualization and east Asian fetishization argument to be made about it, but that’s not within the scope of this particular conversation.)

Point is, if you are including humanoid characters in your fantasy stories, fine. You don't need to say ‘Black’ outright. But, that just means that you’re going to have to be even more detailed in your description. Because if I were watching a TV show and a Black actor shows up as an elf… I know what features I’m seeing! Entire protests have occurred over the casting of Black actors in a role ‘meant for a white person’; so... everyone sees it!

Conclusion

This is another reason why intention in character design and writing is important! Context clues and socialization help me understand who your character is. If it works like this for white characters, it can work like that for everyone else! You just have to know enough about me to write it in (and that's where the social and societal bias lie, because how much do you really know about me?)

A way to better understand this is reading books by Black authors (for fantasy, I would highly recommend Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko and Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi) as well as Black literary classics! Finding and reading Black fic authors in fandoms with Black characters! By learning how we describe ourselves and our skin colors, you’ll learn and practice how to appropriately describe us!

Now I can't make you do any of this! But I do want you all- writers especially- to start noticing our bias, how we may default to the experience of whiteness- and how that affects the way we write. When we have Black characters, and really any character of color, we need to start paying attention to how often their features, culture, and activities are emphasized, even for what we may consider to be 'background' details. That’s how we normalize creation and understanding, and become better at writing!

It’s just something to practice; remember, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

In addition, if you are interested in a simple read into why approaching race is so uncomfortable as a whole, I've attached Robin DiAngelo's book here! Thank you to the PDF guru @toiletpotato for the link!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black writers

630 notes · View notes

pennyblossom-meta · 2 months

Text

Analysis of the romance in Death Note's Spiraling Trap game.

EDIT 02/03/2024: minor edits and fixes, added a few imgs and extra content.

A huge thank you to the folks over at agtteam who translated L - the ProLogue to Death Note: Spiraling Trap into English! Now we can all date L become FBI agents after hours.

I've been playing the game recently and one of the features I love the most is the L Communicator, which allows the main character (referred to as MC henceforth) to take a break from adventuring and listen to L talk about whatever is on his mind.

There's around one hundred different lines available as the MC develops a relationship with L and they paint him as such a sweet, attentive and thoroughly unique individual that I was surprised by how detailed it was. If you're thinking about playing, then this part is definitely worth putting effort into.

The mechanics of the dating sim are relatively simple: during the adventure, you'll pick up a number of recipes hidden among traps and tools. Then, Watari will provide the ingredients and you can give L whatever sweets he specifically craves. These recipes and cravings depend on the time of day and can be season specific.

Character analysis

As stated in-game, giving L sweets causes his appreciation for the MC to grow. However, L being L, means that he craves different sweets throughout the day. He's definitely very specific about what he likes and what he wants for his sugar fix.

However, if you give L something he isn't craving at that specific moment, he will sulk. The way he expresses his displeasure varies according to the depth of the budding relationship he has with the MC.

L: To tell you the truth, there are many other things I would have preferred. L: [F/N], I hate to say this, but I really would have preferred something else. L: F/N], you must know that I was hoping for something else, right? L: [F/N]… It’s not my favorite but, it made me really happy.

Note: Given that the books in the expanded universe (Another Note and L: Change the WorLd) came out before this game, I think some of the quotes further ahead might be a subtle nod to how L is perceived by the police forces as the "creepy murder detective". However, references about his piece of mind lead me to believe that L craves some respite from the burdens he carries on his shoulders — burdens so strong that they managed to curve his spine.

Note: I'm unsure how the system here works, as the MC also gets points for gaining L's trust in the actual adventure when they a) agree with his observations and b) find key objects hidden in unsuspecting places. It might affect the available lines through the L Communicator.

L: Today is going to be a better day… Let’s think positive. L: I wonder what kind of morning this will be. L: It seems the air outside is crisp this morning.

L: I want to finish what I need to get done before night falls. L: It’s nearly sunset. Time for children to go back home. L: If you just stare into space, night will be here before you know it.

L: It’s already evening… Time keeps passing me by. L: There’s something different about the air at night. L: Night-time, dusk… It’s the witching hour.

As a naturally introspective individual, L observes the world around him and draws conclusions. To my surprise, the game actually managed to capture how observant L is about small, unsuspecting details of daily life and give him a slightly poetic side laced with a hint of wistfulness that suits his character well.

This is a side of L in his private life that I personally wish we had been able to glimpse during the Kira investigation. Though, at the time, L was busy trying to prove that Light was, indeed, Kira. It left him little to no time to enjoy the world around him. During the brief time that L could have had a semblance of rest right before the Yotsuba arc, he was depressed that his deductions were "wrong" — though I could see him musing about some of the above, equal parts whimsy and sulking.

L: If I start to lose my touch… I guess I’ll retire. L: Another day, another mystery… L: I have a lot of thinking to do. L: I feel like doing some capoeira… L: I haven't played tennis for a while. L: The weather today is… Well, it matters not. L: I, um… No, ignore me. L: Am I reading too much into it…?

As a thinker, L has a lot of unfinished thoughts he says out loud. Some border on cliché, others are musings about things he'd like to do or that he's missing.

I wonder if some of his thoughts end up trailing off because, suddenly, he catches himself and believes they're not important? Or that he doesn't think the MC would be interested in what he has to say beyond work matters?

L: “In spring one sleeps a sleep that knows no dawn.” Though, too much sleep isn’t good for anyone. L: If you think about things persistently, noticing all the sides to them will come naturally. L: Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing. L: The one who has thought it through wins. It’s true for chess, and for deduction. But in the case of love… I don't know.

He's also a philosopher at heart, always thinking about the human condition. In these we can also witness his dry humour, silly puns along with a subtle desire to share his thoughts on the world and give helpful advice.

As for love, L is cautious but willing to learn. It's a topic where he's out of his depth.

L: Um, Watari is… L: I wonder if Watari’s asleep? L: What could Watari be up to? L: Today is Thanksgiving Day. I am truly grateful to Watari for his diligence.

I found it interesting how L's thoughts eventually go back to Watari and what he's doing. He's the one person that L relies on and whom he interacts with the most. Other people are passing acquaintances at best, who show little interest in L beyond work.

Notice how he mentions diligence? Although it is a utilitarian consideration, it also reveals a thankfulness for the comforts of familiarity and the peace of mind that trusting someone close brings. This is a topic we'll explore better at a later stage, i.e., how trust and acts of service work as a relationship builder.

Romance

Neutral stage

One of the first things I've noticed is that, during the early stages of the relationship, L is still very formal and quite a bit dismissive — even borderline rude. As his sugar fix gets sated by the MC's keen suggestions (Watari provides the ingredients, of course), L grows gradually more fond of them and wants to include the MC in his life with an enthusiasm I can only define as endearing.

L: Aren’t you bored? You don’t have to check in on me. L: Don’t you have stuff to do?

At the beginning, L is still wary of the MC on a personal level as they have absolutely no rapport beyond a partnership of circumstance and usefulness in the name of justice. He's quick to get bored and doesn't take it very well when he's given sweets he isn't craving. A bit childish, one could say, the way he sulks when the MC errs by not reading his mind.

L: Did I enjoy it? Let me just say “no comment”. (about sweets that weren't quite to his taste)

It's also very in-character for L to feel both annoyed at someone who is randomly calling him and be suspicious of their motives.

Growing interest

L: Spending the afternoon with you isn’t so bad. L: Even though it’s late, you’re not going to bed, huh? L: You must be a night owl, [F/N]. L: I’m a little curious about you, [F/N]. L: Are you having a good time? I’m just curious. L: You’re kind of… Ah, no, forget I said anything.

He starts addressing the MC by their first name as he becomes more enamoured. It's very sweet. I was pleasantly surprised at how attentive L becomes as he gradually comes to the conclusion that this is a person who understands him.

Mind, due to game mechanics the MC gains approval by giving L sweets, but from a narrative perspective what's really happening is that L not only feels seen and understood, but also accepted. And when that happens, he starts lowering his walls and relaxing.

As a plot device, I would say these are defining moments within L's thought process here; he's curious about the MC, finds them interesting enough to want to know more them and pursues that curiosity to see what they might have in common. It seems he's both a little baffled and content about this development.

L: [F/N], what do you think of when you see a sunset? L: What are you doing this afternoon? Oh, should I not have asked? L: Are you a night owl? Oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.

It should also be noted that L is very mindful of boundaries. There's a tentative, almost shy attempt to connect. He's determined to indulge in his curiosity since the MC's attentiveness towards him shows an opening for closeness he's unused to (but is happy about) and to tend to his more immediate needs (i.e., food cravings), which in turn shows a genuine concern for him. Aside from Watari, I doubt anyone ever extended L similar kindness.

And it is in this determination to get to know the MC that I also find Mello's words (AA: LABB Murder Cases) that L is actually a very active, aggressive individual with absolutely no interest in social conventions perfectly represent him this game, as he navigates a growing fondness with expectation, curiosity and caution — on his own terms, while minding that he doesn't overstep.

L: Staying up late talking to you… It makes me feel calm.

I find it particularly heartbreaking how this confession of L unknowingly makes it more transparent how burdened he is. The spine curved by burdens unseen, the addiction to mind games and sweets; all of these point to stress factors which isolate him further, increasing the loneliness and lack of affection in his life.

That L feels the need to mention the MC makes him feel calm seems telling.

L: We’re both late workers, huh? That makes me happy. L: [F/N]… You’re pretty formidable. L: It’s reassuring to have a partner like you. You’re someone I can trust. L: Your feelings have been received. (Valentine's Day) L: The fact we’ve become so close was an unexpected development on my part.

And here it is, the acknowledgement just as L enters the highest stages of approval, where he expresses admiration and happiness at the close bond he developed with the MC.

"An unexpected development on my part" is quite the turn of phrase. One can only wonder, but I'd make an educated guess that L didn't see this coming because:

a) no one showed feelings towards him before. In his line of work, hidden behind a screen there is no time to indulge or get attached to anyone (he would mistrust their intentions anyway) and so L keeps everyone at arms length, sharing little more than a professional side of himself and fostering utilitarian relationships that help him win "games". L ultimately carries various burdens the average civilian would never be able to understand, all due to the pressure of his job. When failing at the "game of cat and mouse" means being responsible for the likely deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds or thousands, the stakes are up in unimaginable ways. What started as a thrill chase can have catastrophic consequences should L fail. That in itself alienates him from society at large. It's a game that L plays well and absolutely profits from, but it is also an indicative of two major flaws: his addictive personality and how he suppresses his emotions to carry on. Coincidentally, it's the expanded universe, in particular Another Note: LA BB Murder Case and L: Change the WorLd, that give us the best insight into this. This isn't too dissimilar to the struggles policemen face in high risk jobs or technicians who have to flag and delete sensitive content from online platforms. These people end up changed from what they see — and some carry traumas for the rest of their lives. That's not to say that L doesn't feel for others. He respects people whom he considers good or morally upstanding (Soichiro Yagami), who are competent in their line of work (Naomi Misora, Mogi), worthy of a second chance (Aiber and Wedy), who speak their minds, unafraid (Aizawa) or who are reliable, loyal to him as a person and not just his cause, in whom he can place his trust and feel secure won't betray him (Watari). The MC seems to fall mostly in the last category, though the relationship is rather precocious — and there seems to be a fair amount of wishful thinking and even projecting on L's part, since communication happens over a device connecting two people remotely. He falls both for the idea of the individual and their attentiveness towards him. When L mentions that they make him feel calm, I'd argue it comes both as a surprise to him and a confession of a closeness and safety he intimately craved — though I personally view L as someone who feels lonely and wanting healthy human contact, even if his social skills might not be the best (worsened by his distrust of people as a whole). Someone who ultimately is willing to adapt to him but whom he can adapt to, as well. Someone who sees him as a person and not an unfeeling robot. It's a POV that certainly challenges certain aspects of DN: Vol 13. I would further argue that L's portrayal has evolved significantly beyond the manga, and that his subsequent humanising is partially a result of the creative liberties the English translations took, as well as a more empathetic view of the character and hidden struggles. Each medium displays a separate iteration of L, with common variables.

b) L fosters distant relationships with others as a safety measure. Aside from Watari, L's contact with other people had always been distant, work-focused, perhaps even tainted by notions of his supposed creepiness as a kinky detective "who relished bizarre murders" (L:CtW). He's useful to the police because he achieves favourable results, though L is still viewed as "a human computer, capable only of measuring mass murders in terms of cold numbers, a reclusive sociopath" (L:CtW). He isn't necessarily liked; in fact, I would argue he rubs people the wrong way most of the time — as we can see during his interactions with the Task Force, during the events of Death Note. L is tolerated, a useful asset who is both mysterious and a pain to deal with. However, he's also put on a pedestal due to his status (i.e., Relight, the children at Wammy's). For the latter, he purposely shatters their idea of L as this unbeatable, paragon of justice by defining himself as a monster (anime), a dishonest cheating human being who hates losing (manga). I do share in lux-mea-lex's perspective on L doubting his own humanity and how it fuels a certain self-hatred for distrusting everyone around him. As lux mentions, "love comes with trust" and L is an excellent detective precisely because he questions everything and everyone — but it comes at a cost: his own loneliness. To draw a parallel, L's ultimate flaw — and that which makes him great at his job — is not unlike what we see during the moments of extreme anguish that Veronica Mars goes through in her personal relationships and which draw people away from her when she oversteps boundaries to prove she's not being lied to. That mistrust comes from experience, for people burdened with having seen too much and it's not unlike a kind of paranoia acquired when one has to deal with the worst of humanity on a daily basis.

Full reciprocity

L: [F/N] you’re the light that illuminates the dark night. That’s an exaggeration of course, but… L: What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart. L: When we’re together, I feel like there’s no problem we can’t solve. L: The afternoons I get to spend with you are precious to me.

When the MC achieves the stage of full reciprocity with L, he's very open to showing vulnerability and lowering his emotional defenses. I found this to be particularly sweet, as L is such a secretive man with so many hidden layers that him being willing to show such honesty with that one person he holds dear is incredible character development.

Beyond the game, I would say that achieving this stage with L would be much more difficult and, naturally, would involve going beyond picking the best sweets for him.

Something important to keep in mind is that L seems to value acts of service, as the people who interact with him more closely have some utility value and aid his work. However, L's life revolves around his work; he lives and breathes his detective work, which is why having a partner who brings him peace would be so important.

L: The time I spend with you is as important to me as the sweets. L: Good morning. It makes me really happy to see you here. L: For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond. L: When you have time, I’d like to take you to a shop that makes the best sweets. L: When you’re free, how about we play tennis together? I will have Watari reserve a court. L: If something were to happen to me… I want you, as the person I hold dearest, to carry on the L moniker. L: When my thoughts hit a dead end late at night, I feel like I’m stuck in a maze. But, having you here makes me feel reassured.

I also found it very sweet how L takes the initiative to plan for activities to do together with the MC. And how their presence, their reassuring words make him feel at ease. It seems that a loving relationship would give L a goal in life beyond his work.

Carrying on the L moniker... this quote might be the result of L's trust in the MC growing during the events of the game, or a sentiment L nurtures due to the MC being attentive enough to understand his specific cravings. But being able to read L and having the mental dexterity to become him are different things, as the latter involves a lifestyle that few would want and a complete focus on work. Even FBI agents have lives beyond work.

L: I learned from you that sweets are the bond that brings people together. L: You give me true peace of mind. No one could ever replace you. L: The way I am now, I… I can’t think straight when you’re not around. L: Being able to share this sunset with you, I couldn’t ask for anything more. L: You understand, don’t you [F/N]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more… L: When I talk to you, I feel like my senses are sharpened. Thanks to that, my radar has become more sensitive.

What a sweet guy. I love how L focuses on the little things and just wants to spend time together with the person he holds dearest. It's almost as if he daydreams a close, loving relationship — a trait that clashes with L's logical side.

This game and the expanded universe of Death Note have convinced me that there are many more layers to L than what we can see in the main story.

As Fu Takahashi, who plays L in the 2020 Japanese version of the musical, said:

“(...) A common thing about L among these versions is that, despite his superficial image as a smart guy who hates losing, he actually feels lonely and needs affection, I imagine. Perhaps he is an orphan – his character suggests so. He tries to control his emotions, like the feelings towards his parents, or romantic feelings; that’s why he is sort of dependent on games or battles of the mind. So I want to play L while thinking about the foundations on which his personality has been formed.”

I think this quote and the game are actually very telling of L's core personality and how it moves beyond that cold, calculating persona that defines him in the manga. It's also more in line with the characterisation that we see in the anime and the books, which help humanise L.

As I mentioned elsewhere, learning how to trust and be comfortable around someone else would do L wonders. Though that person would have to accept him for who he is and help him learn how to navigate a healthy relationship.

Perhaps the true test of love, for L, would even be for him to be confronted with someone who knows who he really is and, is not only kind to him, but also sees the best in him — regardless of his flaws. I think that we've had a glimpse of it in this game and it's a breath of fresh air.

#death note #l lawliet #death note: spiralling trap #spiraling trap #romance #death note meta #watari #character analysis #l lawliet headcanons #l lawliet x reader #in a way #kira #soichiro yagami #aizawa #naomi misora #aiber #wedy #task force

387 notes · View notes

vivendraws · 10 days

Text

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

286 notes · View notes

uplatterme · 1 year

Note

aether and kaveh look like disney princesses i wanna fuck the shit out of

there is no need for elaboration

-🪸

—okay. you’ve got me hooked. rapunzel!aether in part 2! (tba)

—cinderella!kaveh/royalty!reader, sub!bottom!kaveh/top!dom!reader, amab!reader (referred with they/them pronouns) | cinderella au, semi-public sex, quickie, clothed sex, cum as lube, porn with actual plot (don’t let the tags fool u, this is so fucking soft)

You completely regret hosting this party.

It was something that your advisor had tasked you to do. Host a party, find a suitable partner, get an heir so the kingdom has someone to depend on, blah blah blah.

It’s not like you were even that old.

You sigh, a cigarette on your lips as you lay your back on the wall of the balcony. So many folks festering you, for that chance that you’ll somehow hand them their crown.

Your head aches at the number of conversations you have had to endure just to be polite, the amount of times you’ve had to shake off someone from hugging your arm without your consent.

“Oh, fuck!” You hear someone yelp.

And while the owner of this voice sounds overly anxious, you can’t help but want to hear it again, especially with the polite wording that the attendees have used to butter you up. someone swearing right in front of you catches your interest.

Hands reach the bottom of the balcony, and someone lifts their body up to get on the platform.

“Oh god, why is the entrance so crowded?” The person says.

Your ears perk up at that.

“Well, their highness did host it. it’s been a while since such an event has happened.” You answer.

The figure flinches, turning their attention to you.

Your mouth gapes as you finally see who that voice belonged to. Everything about him is enticing that you can’t help but to drown in his gaze.

He’s properly dressed as well, although not anything overwhelming to the eyes.

Now, which family had been hiding such a prince from you?

“Ah sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here.” He quickly apologizes. His cheeks flush, not expecting someone to catch him climbing up a balcony.

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” You offer, craving more of him.

He shakes his head, much to your disappointment.

“I’m actually here for something else.” he says.

You hum. “Also aiming for the heart of their highness, then?”

Take it, unknown prince.

“What?! N-No, not at all!” He screams in reply. “I mean, I'd be flattered if their highness even finds me a bit intriguing.”

“Have you met them?” You ask.

“Oh. I haven’t really got the time for that.” He answers, although he seems to be in a melancholy thought when he does.

Still, you breathe at his beauty. You think you can stare at him for your whole life.

You quickly try to change the topic.

“So, what are you here for?”

He points behind you.

You turn your head back but what faces you is nothing but the empty hallway.

“Sorry?” You question.

“The castle.”

His answers just keep surprising you.

He blushes, rubbing his arm as he paces around the small space of the balcony.

“You’re interested in the architecture?”

As soon as you mention that, he brightens up. “Yes! From what I've seen, it’s alright.”

You feel offended. It is your castle, one for which you’ve decided most of the structure. He seems to notice his mistake as he panics.

“But don’t tell anyone that! Especially not their highness…”

You grin.

“Perhaps, the inside can change your mind?”

“Inside? I don’t think we’re allowed—”

“If we don’t get caught, it’s fine, right?”

“Yes, but—”

You grab the stranger’s hand and lead him inside, he stumbles in after you, the warmth in your hand startling him.

You bring him into different rooms, hoping that one of them will at least suit his taste.

“This?”

“It’s a bit cramped, the furniture set is going against the wallpaper.”

You roll your eyes, he’s so damn picky. That, or you’re just really bad at interior decorating.

Still, you smile at every single word he says. Being royalty, you have no damn clue what he’s saying. But with that pretty voice of his, you could listen to it for hours.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? What if their highness were merely shown bad choices by their architects?” You say, hoping that wouldn’t risk the random attendee persona that you’re playing at the moment.

“If that’s true, they should’ve fired those architects.” He states confidently.

You laugh. “And what, hire you instead?”

He purses his lips, he didn’t expect you to get that so easily.

He stays silent.

“Do you want to?” You ask.

“Get hired?” The look on his face is so innocent like he can’t even believe that you’re asking such a thing. As if the answer is painfully obvious.

You shake your head.

“To build a castle.”

He stares at you dumbfounded. His eyes glimmer as he grabs your hands and does so aggressively. You don’t mind even a second of it.

“Are you fucking crazy? T-That’s like my dream!” He admits. He’s smiling widely, his face nothing but only a few centimeters away from you.

He starts babbling about the materials he’ll make it with, the different types of rooms and decorations he’ll add. He’s so damn fascinating, you don’t even care about the speech that you’re supposed to give by midnight.

It’s like he has planned this for a long time. Everything he says is so intricate. His hands move as if he’s drawing it, he’s a bit shaky but it’s obvious that it’s from excitement. To your amazement, the way he describes everything makes it seem as if you’re actually in that castle in your head.

Once he realizes how much he’s talking, he stutters an apology.

“Sorry! It’s just that no one has ever asked me about this, I mean at home I—”

“Okay. I’ll give that to you.” You reply genuinely, your eyes are focused on his soft lips.

His chest heaves and his golden eyelashes flutter with grace…just looking at you.

“You know that’s impossible. I’m not even a professionally licensed architect.”

“It’s not.”

You’ll make it happen, even if your advisor goes against it. It doesn’t matter if you have to demolish the entire castle you’re in right now.

“It is! You’re just flattering me, I get it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me, but you don’t have to promise and lie to about such things.”

“I mean it.” You say it so sternly that he almost starts believing it.

He sighs deeply. “Going to this party is already a dream come true. There was this little green fairy with white hair, I—”

The words slip out of your mouth, cutting off whatever stupid things he has to say.

“Meeting you is a dream come true.”

The next few moments are a blur. Your hands are all over the unknown stranger. Fuck, it’s as if you’ve been hit with a love spell. You want to keep kissing his mouth, tell him that he has nothing to worry about when you’re with him. That you’ll do anything he asks.

Your prince whines and the sound has you going insane.

You want more.

You’ve gotten so addicted easily that your mind is insatiable.

It doesn’t matter that the room is left unlocked, no one is going to keep your hands off him.

“Hah—God!” He breathes enticingly. His mind is so hazy, so weak at how his heart is pounding each second.

You take off his coat, the clothing echoes as it falls down on the floor. His blouse is silk and you swear you can see the way his chest is lined underneath the white cloth.

Your fingers rubbed his hardened nipples and his entire body shivers. He holds onto your shoulders for support, the aroused moan that escapes his throat is just enough for you to keep doing it, and so you do.

“W-Wait! I-I’ll—” He pushes you for a moment, to take a breath as he slowly composes himself.

You watch him impatiently. You can see how his cock twitches from his tight pants, the wet spot in the center, and his dick dripping from precum as the white liquid seeps through it.

You keep your hands inside your pocket. Despite how your pants are perfectly fitted for you, your cock is begging for warmth, specifically from the blonde stranger in front of you.

He then nods.

“I’m okay…we can continue.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any—”

“I can take it. It’s fine.” He says as if he’s in a hurry. You’re not sure if it's just because he’s needy or if it’s something else.

You still indulge in his wants, however.

You’ll have to make do with his own fluids although you really don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt him.

Your fingers steadily prepare his walls and you’re trying your best to not be greedy. His needs first, more than anything.

He’s so damn tight, not that you need to worry much as the sounds he’s making are signaling everything but pain.

He’s so soft and so perfect that you’re starting to get jealous of even your own fingers.

“Are you..?”

He nods, and desire fills his eyes. It looks like you’re not the only one getting impatient.

When you finally feel his insides with your cock, the expectations you had were completely blown out of the water. Your hands find their way to his waist and it’s perfect.

The first thrust is enough to send you to heaven.

“Keep going.” He pleads.

You continue to pound into him, enjoying how each one brings out a soft mewl from the blonde.

His cock is dripping white on the floor, and the carpet gets soaked. You know you need to get that replaced but instead, you want to keep the stain there, as if some kind of trophy.

And while you stir up his insides, a familiar noise bothers your ears.

You don’t let it even phase you, enjoying the pleasure that’s eating you up.

However, your prince decides otherwise.

“H-Hold on! What was that—”

“Just the clock. You don’t need to bother yourself with it.”

A groan escapes your throat, feeling how he tenses up all of the sudden.

“Is it twelve?” He asks.

“N-No, but it’s close. Five more minutes.”

“I need to go.” He says.

No way was he leaving you like this.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, but I—” His words are cut off by his moaning.

The way you fill him up has him salivating. You didn’t even move but god, his walls clenching on you are betraying his choices right now.

“T-Three minutes.” He whimpers out.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers feel up his cock, stroking it up and down while still continuing to pound ruthlessly. He continues to scream out, his mind too overwhelmed from getting his ass and cock ravaged at the same time.

His legs quiver and you have to hold him still. You’re both close and you’ll make sure to have him finish in time at least.

“F-Fuck!” He sobs.

And the worries in your head disappear, cumming inside his walls as he splatters more onto the carpet.

You sigh, your chest thumping as you stand there with your clothes a mess.

He quickly slides off you, trembling but still hastily moving as if the adrenaline has gotten into his head.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll try to get in contact with you again. I swear!” He stammers out before fixing his clothes, nearing the doorway.

“Don’t go through the balcony! There’s an exit to the right of this room!” You say, helping him out despite your wishes to keep him here.

“Thanks!” He shouts back.

You swipe the sweat on your forehead, zipping your pants back on.

The clock chimes as it signals it’s midnight. What a fucking way to end the night.

You hear rushed steps from the hallway.

Your attention turns to the door. Did he come back?

Your disappointment is immeasurable when you find out it’s just your advisor.

“Your highness! I’ve been looking everywhere, you’re late for your speech—Oh my god, what did you—No, who did you?!” She looks disappointed.

You look down. Ah, right.

Who?

Oh fuck, you never got his name.

“I didn’t ask. Oh no.” The realization slowly sets in.

��Excuse me?!” Your advisor answers offended by your words. You can tell how stressed she’s been, her teal hair in a mess.

“I’ll be right there. Let me clean up first, Ma’am”

“I’ll get everyone distracted. Jeez, young ones these days!” She says before rushing away.

The urge to punch the wall in front of you right now is high.

You look at the floor and notice the coat on the floor.

It smells just like him.

You lay your head on the cold table, mind filled with everything but your duties. The only thing that’s engraved in there is nothing but the sweet prince you met a while ago.

But no matter how many times you’ve gone through portraits of different royal families, even going through the nobles, you’re not met with a match.

“Your Highness. I see you’ve been distracted again.”

“Madame Faruzan, I cannot do this anymore.” You tell her wholeheartedly.

Your advisor rolls her eyes.

“Right after I caught you and that whole mess, you should be working.”

“He’s a great guy! He’s skilled with his hands.” You argue with her.

“I do not need to hear what he did with you.”

“That’s not what I meant! He’s an architect, he’s good! I’ve heard how he works, I’ll vouch for him.”

“You’re biased. Something that a ruler should not have. I told you this when you were younger.” She warns you.

It seems that she won’t hear you out no matter how hard you try.

“I really cannot focus.” You say.

It’s the truth. You’ve been sleeping with that coat for weeks, along with other things. As if it’s actually him to begin with.

“If he’s such a great architect, then why don’t you work with that?”

An idea enters your head.

“Ma’am, you’re a genius.”

“Of course.” She says confidently with a smile.

She shakes the compliment off, lord knows she's the smartest person you’ve ever met.

“So? What’s your verdict?” She asks.

A day after, a letter was sent out to the people of your kingdom.

Needless to say, everyone was freaking out.

“Goodness, that’s a big deal. Isn’t it?”

“Right! That’s a big opportunity.”

The entire market was in an uproar as Kaveh shops for his family. He couldn’t care any, especially not with the consequences he faced from being caught out late in the night. They never knew that he went to the party, but he’s sure his snarky scholar of a step-sibling knows.

“Oh, Kaveh.” A friendly face greets him.

“Miss Nilou.”

She smiles at him,

“Are you participating?”

The confused face of Kaveh is enough for Nilou to shake the soul out of him.

“You have to! Their highness is currently looking for an architect to turn the whole castle into something new!”

Kaveh’s eyes widen. “…Actually?”

“Yes! Oh, you have to hurry! It’s only up till today!” She brings it up, and Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can.

It’s almost like a dream come true.

First, that little green fairy that gave him the opportunity to attend the party in the first place. Then, that person he met at the said party who he flushes at every time he thinks of them. And now, this?

He almost tears the whole place down from searching for his plates.

Kaveh compiles it in an envelope. He feels rewarded as if everything that he’s gone through has finally led up to something.

“Fuck! Where is it?” He’s missing a folder.

Technically, what he’s giving is already more of what was asked for. Still, the perfectionist in him cannot stand to not have everything in its place, especially not with the opportunity that he was presented with.

A knock comes from his door and he flinches, his family cannot know about this. They’ll get rid of it again.

“It’s just me.” He relaxes, rolling his eyes before turning back.

“Asshole,” Kaveh says.

“After I saw your folder in the living room and kept it? Alright, I’ll guess I’ll throw it out.” Al-Haitham replies sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I kept it for a reason. I wouldn’t throw it out now.” Kaveh forcefully takes out the folder and shoves it into his envelope.

He wants to say thanks, but his pride is too high for that.

“Be home before your curfew, I won’t cover for you.” Al-Haitham says.

Kaveh knows that he will despite the annoying tone that he’s using.

He runs to the front of the castle as fast as he can, his legs were not made out for this kind of journey. Still, he won’t give up.

He reaches the gates luckily, just an hour before the deadline.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

“We got a lot of submissions…and most of them are barely even considered actual pieces. I mean, look at this. Who would turn a castle into a teapot?” Faruzan complains, searching through the different envelopes.

You take a look at the amount and you couldn’t help but agree more. It’s absurd.

“Everyone who’s a licensed architect can be thrown away.” You ordered.

“Did I hear that correctly?” She eyes you as if you’re crazy.

You are.

“It’s fine, I have faith in him.”

After that, the submissions are lessened quite easily. While there were some that had fit up to the standards, they weren’t simply what you were looking for.

You remember every single thing he said, if you could just match that up with an envelope then you’ll be fine.

“We have two left.” Your advisor states.

Two names in front of you. One was named ‘Albedo’ and the other one was named ‘Kaveh’. You hesitate to open, the anxiety that he never heard of this competition or that you have sorted away his piece is eating you.

Your advisor notices this and gives one of her very rare encouragement.

“You said you have faith.”

You sigh, trying to calm down.

“I do.” You say it just loud enough to believe it.

You and Faruzan both take one, opening them at the same time.

Your hands shake as you do.

This ‘Albedo’ is good. God, it’s gorgeous. Though what he’s sent out are more artistic than they are architectural, you can see the vision that he’s presenting, it’s something you think your mystery man would find great fun studying.

You literally cannot do this.

You only had one chance left.

It’s this or nothing.

Faruzan holds your hand while you go through his envelope. It’s breathtaking, it’s almost as what you imagined that time Kaveh was talking to you were right here, laid out perfectly.

“Kaveh.” The name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

Finally.

You dress up in a nice outfit, sitting on the carriage’s seat, trying your best not to scream. You could have gotten the wrong person, but you’re sure that this Kaveh is him.

You’re not accompanied by anyone except your coachman. You’ve asked him “if you’re there yet” about five times.

You bury your face in your hands. This is fine, you’ll be fine.

You almost smack your head face-first on the seat when the carriage comes to a stop without any warning.

The door opens for you.

You hear the gossiping of the people around you and you give them that perfect smile you’ve been taught to do even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.

There’s a person by the door. One who’s certainly not the one you met at the party.

“Hello.” You greet.

“Your highness.” He replies, bowing his head.

There is an awkward silence between the two of you. It is clear that neither of you likes talking.

“I’m looking for—”

“Kaveh, I presume?”

You nod nervously.

He opens the door and shouts, an annoyed response can be heard from the outside.

Everything’s fine, you rule this kingdom. If it’s another person, you can just bomb the whole place away!

The joking in your head does not make it any better.

“I swear this better be important, I was busy—” He stops talking as soon as he meets with your eyes.

There’s a flushed look on his face that matches yours.

“Oh. It’s you…”

There come the gasps from around you.

“He did not just call them that.”

“How disrespectful!”

“Right?!”

You cough, unsure how to state why you’re here. You just hand him the contract.

He shakes as he reads it.

“What…?”

“I told you that I’ll build you a castle.” You remind him.

Kaveh remembers and you can see everything click right in his face. He’s very expressive, not that you were a stranger to that.

“Y-Your Highness.” He stutters.

You wonder if it’s appropriate to go down on your knee.

Fuck it. You can have Madame Faruzan reprimand you later.

The people watching scream in shock as you go down on one knee.

“Now that we have that out of the way…Will you do me the honor of ruling by your side?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say—

“What?!” Kaveh yells at you.

“G-Get up! Oh my god, your highness!” He tells you.

“I’m not standing up unless you say yes.”

The man you talked to previously whistles before heading inside the house. Kaveh glares at him, he did just not leave him in a situation like this.

“I’m serious, Kaveh.”

“You’re crazy.” He says.

“I know.” You look up to him hopefully.

He’s so red, it’s almost painful to look at. Not that you were any different from his case.

“I—Alright! Yes! So stand up already, your cape is getting dirty and everyone’s looking so—”

You pull Kaveh down by his collar, drowning in his sweet familiar lips.

#plattered writings #dom reader #sub genshin impact #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #sub kaveh #sub!kaveh #sub kaveh x reader #thirsts for blake

2K notes · View notes

morallyinept · 4 months

Text

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Frankie is in his early 40's, around 42/43, Jude is in her late 30's, around 37/38. Jude has mid-length hair - other than that, I've tried to keep Jude as a blank canvas in terms of ethnicity/eye & hair colour. This is so you can imagine yourself as Jude, if you'd like to. If I miss anything, please kindly let me know. Images are for aesthetic purposes only, no direct reference to Jude.

Word Count: 120K - give or take... it's novel length. 👀

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: Survival/mentions & descriptions of a plane crash/death/drowning/starvation/dehydration/malnourishment/injury/sickness & illness/depression/PTSD/drug use/drug addiction/mentions of loss/sorrow/angst/brief mention of miscarriage/bleeding/blood loss/cheating spouse - I promise it's not all doom & gloom.

EXPLICIT: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral both M & F receiving/hand job/masturbation - all the good stuff.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: This is a story I wrote a long time ago, and have re-edited for Frankie. It's a story I have poured a lot of love into, and probably one of my favourite things I've ever written. I really hope you enjoy Frankie & Jude's story. 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapters including smut - 🌶️ Trigger Warnings will be highlighted red, if any.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11 🌶️

CHAPTER 12 (Trigger Warning) 🌶️

CHAPTER 13 🌶️

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

EXTRAS:

Playlist

Moodboard by the amazing @sawymredfox 🖤

TAGGING ISSUE <- Read if you want to be tagged.

Frankie & Jude as SIM's characters by the wonderful @fckyeapedrothots99 🖤

Adrift Clip by the awesome @survivingandenduring 🖤

This will probably be around 30-40 chapters or so, maybe less depending how much I bulk them out. I'll add chapters as I upload. New chapters will be added on a Sunday starting mid January 2024 - Please ensure you're following me and switch on notifications so you don't miss out on this story.

MAIN MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales triple frontier #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #adrift with you series #jett's writing

457 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 6 months

Text

that cabin eren look has changed the trajectory of my life and given me the stupidest idea ever lmfaogekgs! Just walk with me for a minute

content: musician au ofc, sexual references, reverb lore (?), ony, armin and connie being aggravating as hell lmfaooo, comedy them being big ass kids, ony using the n word (nb’s keep it cute)

📝: I’m reporting live from the ER so I need something to keep me entertained. 😭 this is so dumb, forgive me.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

“Nah, tell them folks the full story! Go ahead.”

“Look at him getting embarrassed. He’s so cuteee.”

the sound of clicking keys and controllers rang out over the headsets, among the loud laughter and chatter coming from those wearing them. The four illustrious artists, EJ the Don, Armin Hammer, Prince Cee and Ony The God; forming the collective known as Dead Boys Society were normally coming together to perform their many hits, or even comprise music. But tonight? They had a whole other reason..or two rather!

“Tell your mama’s story, bitch. Ain’t nothing to talk about.”

on one of the very rare occasions that the gentleman accrued some free time, they decided to host a Twitch stream. Playing video games, previewing new music and just having a good time. That was until they decided to bring them out…the infamous photos.

Ony, who was in full blown hysterics, falling out of his chair in laughter as he hoisted his phone to the camera. He could barely even be contained. “Look at this nigga, bro! You couldn’t tell him shit.” And the others followed suit. “Malibu’s Most Wanted looking ass.” Armin was just in hysterics, trying to cover his face. Eren, however was not as enthused! “Say sum’, Armin. I dare you and I’m going dead in your shit when I see you again.” “Don’t get mad at me because you were the mall whore. Getting passed around.” Which was so ironic coming from him! Because during the stream, the conversation of their previous lives and how they met came about. Ony divulged that he and Connie had known each other a long time and even went to school together. The pair played basketball as well. When they were seventeen, they began working at the Bayside Mall in a shoe store. Which is where they met EJ, who had just enrolled at their high school as well. The three became really close and eventually that they not only shared an affinity for sneakers but music also. They’d compose songs, make beats and mess around during their shift. When the three of them worked together, the store was packed to the brim, even with a line out the door. Due in part to their main attraction: the cute boy from Jersey with the green eyes and the voice of angel. At any given time, there would R&B and rap playing and he would know every word. Definitely a rarity in the urban area! Connie, who vividly remembered him wanting to be in the stock room but the manager insisting on Eren being on the floor. Thanks to Ony’s suggestion! Because of that, every girl from here to Opa Locka wanted a piece, even telling him they wanted his baby! It was utter chaos. “(Y/N), ma. I’m sorry but your man had hoes. In there serenading them girls and they used to eat that shit up. They loved him. He had like three baby mamas and four step kids before he left.” Rolling his eyes, Eren would take a sip of his drink and try to interject. Defending his honor because lord knows no one else would! “Nah, they were trying to exploit me. Pimping me out for corporate gain. Bunch of bastards.” And (y/n) was just enjoying this little storytime of your man. Exposing his younger self. So when Ony showed the photos of him in his uniform with a gold chain, a tapered fade and Nikes on, posing with his fingers up, you couldn’t help but to laugh. He was just as adorable then as he was now! It most certainly wasn’t his proudest moment. Hence why he loved having hair long now.

“A white boy with a fade singing Pretty Ricky and Trey Songz and you thought we wasn’t gon’ put that nigga front and center? That was our meal ticket. We had to do something.”

and you fell clean over, unable to hold it together! Along with the chat who was spamming a plethora of ‘LMAO’ ‘s and scrambled letters. A mess! “If it means anything, baby. I think you look handsome.” Squeezing his cheeks and cooing to him as consolation. And he was not trying to hear it.

“It don’t mean shit, but thank you, princess.”

He blocked everybody that night and refused to give you any dick for a week straight because of this lil’ escapade. 😭 “I thought shit was funny, what happened?”

833 notes · View notes

dreadlock-detective · 5 months

Text

Hyrule Hulligans Harrass Dilf Dining Establishment

I'm playing around with figuring out tweaks to my cartoony art style for a project I'm working on and decided to test it out more by trying it on these four doofuses. I have to say, I'm really proud of how it came out. Look at how it came out! Look at the shape of Yunobo's doofy head!

That said, I need to actually go back and beat Tears of the Kingdom some time. Sadly I've heard that the Ganondorf Diner shenanigans have been patched out? Not that I'd end up doing that anyway but damn was that funny!

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

Since this post will likely have more reach than most, I want to keep testing out this style on more characters and to that end I'd like to announce a limited time special for December 2-10th 2023!

More info (and a few drawings I haven't posted) under the cut!

STYLE COMMISSION INFO

So yeah I want to practice this style and other folks always seem to have neat ideas I wouldn't think of and I'm trying to raise some money to help send my wife on a trip next summer! Let's make cool stuff happen!

Details:

Please email zeratanus AT gmail DOT com with the subject Style Commission

Cost is $25 USD, paid upfront via paypal. I'll send an invoice out for you once we've agreed on the commission

1 full body character, colored and cell shaded, no background

Please provide an image reference of the character, preferably in color and full body

Either OCs or Fanart is fine

Safe for Work Only

Unlike my usual commissions, these are supposed to be quick so no approval process. Once the commission is confirmed I'll get to work and post the finished product here on Tumblr when it's done

if you want to be tagged when its posted, please include your tumblr username in the email. Sometimes Tumblr refuses to tag certain accounts so I can't promise this hellsite will work but I'll certainly try!

I'm down to hear a bit about the the character's personality and try to incorporate that but the pose itself is up to me.

I think that's everything! If that sounds good to you, drop me a line!

Guess I'll end off with a few more unposted test images for the project this is actually for!

#legend of zelda #loz #Link #Yunobo #Riju #Sidon #Korok #Tears of the Kingdom #TotK #gerudo #goron #Zora #fanart #dreadlock detective #Commissions

476 notes · View notes

luxekook · 1 year

Text

mine | hjs

❯ pairing: boyfriend!joshua x reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluff, slight crack

❯ summary: your boyfriend is dead-set on distracting you from studying. it's really too bad for your statistics grade that you can never really turn away his affections.

❯ word count: 1.7k

❯ word count: 18+; cursing; dirty talk; basically pwp; reader has breasts and a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; switchy vibes; joshua is a menace; mention of breeding; joshua calls reader a 'good little slut' uwu; one taylor swift reference; smut (fingering, unprotected sex [wrap it folks!], creampie)

He’s staring at you again. You can feel his gaze burning into the spot where your skirt ends and your bare thighs begin. You cross your legs, hoping to jar him out of whatever trance he’s in; yet, the stare just seems to intensify.

“Joshua,” you sigh, tucking your bookmark into the pages of your thick textbook before looking at him. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“I am studying,” your boyfriend replies, a smirk curving across his face. “I’m studying you.”

“Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?” You groan, tossing one of your throw pillows in his direction. Of course, Joshua just snatches it right out of the air, his smirk still aimed your way.

“Depends,” his grin widens, “Is it working?”

“No!” You cry, opening your textbook back up, “And if I fail this statistics final, it’s going to be your fault for distracting me, Hong.”

“So I’m distracting?” Joshua stands from his slouched position in your desk chair and moves closer to where you're sitting on your bed. “What’s distracting about me, baby? The way I look at you? Or maybe it's the way I look, hmm? I know you like this top on me.”

He’s crawling across the bed towards you like the demon that he is. And so you open your mouth and say, “Joshua, do I need to get you exorcized? Get out of my bed.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” he mumbles, now close enough to touch. His hand slides up your arm to cup your neck, bringing your head closer to his. “Come on, baby, you need a break.”

Your eyes narrow, “Me? Sounds to me like it's you that's needy, Shua.”

“Fine,” he mumbles, eyes firmly locked on your mouth, “It’s me. Hi, I’m the problem. It’s me.”

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Joshua smiles, his eyes crinkling up in that way you just adore. You can’t help but to kiss him.

You feel his smile against your lips, and you huff out a laugh. “Shut up,” you mumble, pulling back slightly.

“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles back, still looking too smug about the turn of events. Just for that, you pull farther away and grab your textbook again.

“Baaabe,” Joshua whines, plucking the book from your grasp and tossing it to the other side of the bed. You lunge for it, completely forgetting that you’d lunged right over your boyfriend who now has you firmly in his lap.

“You little shit,” you grumble, knowing there is no hope for you. Joshua’s arms are wrapped around you tightly, his face pressed to the crook of your neck. And you can still feel that goddamn smirk.

“I’d say sorry, but I’m so not sorry,” he grins outright before nipping at the thin skin under your ear.

“Fuck, Shua,” you moan, squirming in his lap, “I really do need to study.” Your boyfriend continues to nibble and kiss your neck. You feel him growing harder underneath you as your hips shift indecisively between grinding down and trying to get away.

“Five minutes,” he murmurs, hands falling to your hips to press you harder against his lap.

“I feel like there’s a joke to be made here,” you reply and then squeak embarrassingly as Joshua’s hand spanks your ass.

“I meant five minutes to make you cum, baby,” Joshua’s dark eyes are locked on yours, “Even if you gave me all night, I still wouldn’t be done with half the things I want to do to you.”

How much do you need statistics again?

“T-tomorrow, Shua,” you gasp, as his clothed cock pushes up against the seam of your panties. The delicious pressure makes you roll your hips faster, craving more of that friction. “Fuck me all day tomorrow after my final. Fuck me until I can’t walk, Joshua. I want that so bad.”

“Fuck me,” Joshua surges forward, kissing you hard. “The things you say with that mouth, baby.” One of his hands slides under your skirt, making its way under your lace panties.

“Touch me, Shua,” you beg, beyond caring at this point, “Please.”

“Hmmm,” he suddenly flips you over on all fours, sliding your panties to the side, “What’s this? Yeah, just as I thought. You’re soaked for me, baby.”

His finger slides into your pussy, slipping right inside given how wet you are. Joshua curses, “Goddamn, my baby wants it so bad, doesn’t she? Dripping everywhere like a good little slut.”

“Harder,” you moan, pushing your hips back onto his finger and urging him to give you more. You need more.

The sting on your ass from his slap is everything. You drop to your elbows, arching your ass higher. “More, Shua, please.”

“My greedy girl.” You can practically hear the grin in his words, but that doesn’t matter as soon as you feel him give you exactly what you ask for. Another finger enters your pussy, fucking you. His thumb swipes against your clit, and you gasp at the jolt of pleasure that runs through you.

“Mmm, you liked that, didn’t you?” Joshua groans behind you, “Think you can take another one? I think you can.”

“Yes, Shua, give it to me,” you arch your back higher, shimmying your hips in his face. He laughs and gives you the spank you clearly were asking for.

Three of his fingers fuck you now, pushing in and out of you. The sounds your pussy makes are obscene, and the gush of liquid around Shua’s fingers is clearly driving him insane as you feel him begin to pant behind you.

“Baby,” he groans, “Why are you so fucking wet? Wanna fuck you so bad, please. Let me give you my cock, (y/n). Let me fuck you til you pass out.”

“Yes,” you cry, “Fuck me, Shua. Now!” All thoughts have clearly left your brain. And it really doesn’t matter because the second you feel Joshua’s cock at the entrance of your pussy you take the reins.

“No,” you turn, pushing Joshua back into the pillows of your bed, “Wanna ride you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he grins up at you, “Please do.”

You climb on top of him and slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. You feel your wetness dripping onto him, making his cock slippery. You rock yourself over him, feeling his cock slide between your folds, but never taking him inside.

“(Y/n), baby,” Joshua groans, his head is thrown back, “You’re killing me.”

“Oh,” you giggle, “Sorry, daddy.”

His eyes meet yours immediately, “Don’t start that unless you can finish it, baby.”

Oop. You take the tip of his cock inside you.

“Shit,” he moans, easily distracted. “Keep going, baby, please.”

You take him deeper, inch by inch, at an agonizingly slow pace that has you both panting by the time you're bottomed out. You feel so full, so fucking full like this.

“Love this,” you mumble, squeezing him tighter inside you.

“Fuck,” Joshua moans, his cock twitching inside you, “Don’t do that unless you want me to fucking breed you right now, baby.”

You squeeze him again. Because duh.

You're under him before you can even blink, his hips slamming into yours at a brutal pace. “What did I just say?” Joshua’s forehead pushes against yours, “You never listen, do you, baby? Or is this what you wanted?”

“Is it a crime to want your cum, Shua?” you bite back, your hips meeting each of his thrusts with equal vigor.

“It’s what you wanted,” Joshua smirks, “Baby girl wants my cum? Well then that’s what she’ll get.”

His cock slams into you over and over, hitting that spot inside you just right. You’re a moaning mess under him, barely able to breathe. “Feels so good, Shua.”

“Shit, yeah it does, baby,” Joshua’s hands grip your hips, his lips coming down on yours. You kiss him back with equal vigor, feeling the beginnings of your orgasm sweep up your body. And you can tell Joshua knows it, too. “Yeah, you gonna cum on my cock, baby? Gonna make me lose my mind over how good you grip me? Gonna take my cum from me?”

“Y-yes,” you cry, squeezing down on him and trying to trap him inside. You want his cum inside you more than you need anything else right now. Joshua keeps fucking into you, but not unaffected by the grip you have around him.

“God, your evil fucking pussy,” he groans, “I love it. Gonna make me cum, baby, but not before you.” His hand slides down to play with your clit and his gentle touch mixed with his deep thrusts push you right over the edge.

You scream his name as you come hard around him, muscles spasming around his cock as it continues fucking into you. It’s almost too much and not enough all at once. “Don’t stop, Shua, want your cum,” you cry, arching your back and grinding into him.

“F-fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering as he speeds up further still, “Gonna fill up at that pretty little pussy, (y/n). Gonna make you stuffed full of me.”

“Thought my pussy was evil,” you gasp out, hands dragging down his back to pull him closer.

“It’s heaven and hell, sweetheart,” Joshua gasps, dropping his head to your neck. “Now, take my fucking cum.”

You feel him come with a moan. His cum shoots deep inside you, so warm and so much. You squeeze him tight, milking every last drop you can get and holding it there.

He’s a wreck above you, cock still pushing in and out of you trying to push the cum in deeper. Joshua’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat as his eyes squeeze shut. His neck strains with effort until he finally collapses on top of you, cock still firmly nestled inside your slick pussy.

“Damn, baby, I could write songs about that pussy,” he rasps, hands coming around your waist. He snuggles into your chest, a content smile crossing his face.

“What would you name it? ‘Pretty Evil Pussy’?” you laugh, causing him to twitch inside you.

“Nah,” he says, his smile widening against your skin, “I’d call it ‘Mine’.”

an: hope y'all enjoyed the joshua that currently haunts my dreams (pray 4 me)

#joshua x reader #joshua smut #joshua fanfic #joshua seventeen #joshua hong #hong joshua #hong jisoo #joshua imagine #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt imagine #seventeen #svt

2K notes · View notes