kmb-writes

Davrin tests Assan's food like a proper bodyguard. Well, he did. Accidentally. Once.

But maybe he should keep doing that.

Note: other companions are not included since they don't have romance-exclusive lines for these situations.

When Rook is down: Emmrich: Darling! You're badly hurt! Emmrich: You're wounded, dearest! Heading to revive Rook: Emmrich: I won't lose you, darling! Emmrich: I'll be right over darling!

When Rook is down: Harding: Rook, no! Harding: Rook! Harding: No! Rook! Heading to revive Rook: Harding: Stay with me, please! Harding: I'm not letting you go, Rook! Harding: You're not leaving us like this!

When Rook is down: Neve: Rook, no! Neve: We can't leave Rook! Heading to revive Rook: Neve: Stay with me, Rook! Neve: Hold on, Trouble! Neve: Stay here, Trouble!

When Rook is down: Taash: Rook! Don't leave me! After Regret Prison is completed: Taash: Taarala! I'm not losing you again! Heading to revive Rook: Taash: I'm coming for him!* After Regret Prison is completed: Taash: Taarala! I'm coming for ya! * line will adjust depending on Rook's pronouns

When Cyrian appears during the Demon's Bargain quest his eyes are red, likely signifying his bond with Anaris.

However, you can spot them momentarily turning brown when the two of them start arguing.

Then, when Anaris responds, his own eyes light up and red sparkles appear around Cyrian's face as his eyes turn back red.

RPD sweetheart

✮ The smell arrives before anything visual does. Always before. Decades-old antiseptic that never fully evaporated, black mold, particulate plaster, and something underneath all of that you will not name. Your character detects it from the parking lot. Do not skip this. Writers skip this constantly. Smell is 70% of fear. If your character walks in and immediately describes what they SEE, you have already lost the reader's stomach. Fix it.

✮ Long hospital corridors are acoustic funnels. A door swinging on a corroded hinge forty feet away sounds, physiologically and neurologically, like it is directly behind your character. It is not. But they don't know that yet. And more importantly: they can't immediately tell the difference.

✮ Original floor tiles: white hexagons, many cracked, grout gone grey-black with decades of something. Footsteps echo differently on intact vs. cracked tile. Your character will begin unconsciously stepping around the cracked ones without deciding to. Write it as unconscious. Don't give them the decision.The body knows things the mind hasn't processed.

✮ Nurses' stations have the room call-board still mounted. Metal slots, room numbers, some still containing names on yellowed paper in faded handwriting. Perfectly legible. Your character should read one name specifically. A real first and last name. This is what grounds supernatural dread in human scale. The horror of a ghost is always the horror of the specific person who became one.

✮ Do not have your character open a patient file and find something horrifying written in it. That is lazy and everyone does it. The horror in the file is that it is completely routine: a 54-year-old man admitted for a hip replacement in 1987, three pages of unremarkable medical notes in a nurse's tidy handwriting, then nothing. No discharge date. No transfer. Just nothing. The nothing is the story. Let the reader ask the question. Don't answer it.

✮ Operating theaters are always on upper floors. The surgical table is still there. They never take the table. In real abandoned hospitals, across multiple countries, documented cases: they always leave the table. Your character should wonder why no one took the table. Do not have a character explain why no one took the table. Some questions should stay questions.

✮ The morgue is in the basement. This is always true. The drawer handles are still there. Your character's hand will move toward one of them. Write this as involuntary. The hand goes first. The decision to stop, or not stop, comes second. We don't choose our curiosity; we choose whether to follow it.

As you may you know it is nearly TDJ anniversary, and honestly watching this show has been an "experience" a wonderful one, which is why I decided to make an edit to celebrate and showcase how great this show is.

In hopes you enjoy ;) and please do not hesitate to share or comment !

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

So far, Salim was having the best week of his life. He never thought he would be so at ease with another person apart from his son, but then he met Jason. They clicked in a way that felt instantly right, and the more time they spent together, the more Salim discovered he liked about the other man.

Jason's confidence drew him in at first, but now he knew how intuitive the man was, how well he read people and understood what they needed. He had a fierce fighting spirit but also a gentle healing presence. He was very attractive, of course, with those cute freckles and toned body. And he was just fun. The way they teased each other was exciting and energized.

Still, Salim was so nervous when he brought up Saturday again while he and Jason hung out for Thursday's sports night.

“I'll see you on Saturday, right?”

“ 'Course,” Jason nodded. “You'll need your shield. Especially if you plan to come lookin' as good as you did last week.”

“Maybe I should dress down, then,” Salim said with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Wear a silly T-shirt.”

“I donno, there might be guys into silly shirts,” Jason teased back. He was quiet a moment, thumb brushing along Salim's knuckles. “Maybe I should dress down, too. Wear that hoodie again.”

“I happen to like your hoodie,” Salim told him. Jason's lips quirked int a smile. He lifted their joined hands and brushed the lightest of kisses against Salim's fingers.

“It's settled. You wear a silly shirt, I wear a hoodie.”

Salim only nodded, his skin too busy buzzing from the feel of Jason's lips. Jason's eyes flicked to his face, no doubt noting the blush. Salim tried not to move as Jason studied his expression.

Ask me, Salim silently begged him. He would give an honest answer.

“Salim,” Jason spoke up. He leaned in a little, squeezing Salim's hand. “I can hear you thinking.”

“I'm thinking,” Salim responded, leaning in, heart pounding, “of your lips. And how much I would like to kiss you.”

“Oh.” Jason's eyes fluttered, his pale face turning pink. “I'd like that,” he answered in a whisper.

Their joined hands gave him assurance as he closed the rest of the distance, keeping his eyes open long enough to see Jason's drop closed. He touched his mouth to Jason's, taking a moment to flex his lips enough to make it an actual kiss. He gasped in shock at the thrill of contact. How the buzzing sensation lit up his whole body.

Jason's lips softened against his, responding in gentle little pecks that made Salim's heart go wild. It was so sweet: not pushy, not too intense, and it made him almost light-headed with happiness. In other words, exactly what he hoped for their first kiss. When they pulled away, they were both grinning.

“That your first time kissing a man?” Jason asked him.

“Not... technically. But...” Salim lifted his other hand to cradle Jason's cheek. “The first that I was sure I wanted.”

“What about... boyfriends?” Jason bumped his nose against Salim's. “You think you might want one of those?”