#And you know what there is nothing lesser about humor

[chilschuck]

hi there!!! I love your blog!!! I know you’re mainly a Chilchuck girlie, but I saw that you occasionally do Laios headcanons/drabbles, and I’m a massive Laios simp. if you have the time and inclination, would you maybe write about Laios realizing he’s falling for a reader who is also autistic like he is? and they’re both so in love with each other, but they don’t realize it bc they’re both idiots, so the party has to set them up lmao

OBLIVIOUS (IN MY LOVE FOR YOU).

꒰ warnings: ꒱ mutual pining, hopelessly in love silly guys, gn!reader. sfw as always!

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.3k

✦ i hope this turned out how you wanted it!!! i felt bad that i’ve been doing so much chil and nothing for the others, so i was happy that you sent this request!! i’m not sure how to feel about this, but i’m happy to get something out for you!!! <333 honestly i’m worried this turned out badly, but alas, i feel that way about everything asdfdhgjhk. enjoy lovely!!!!

It was more than obvious to anyone but the two of you, much to the party’s displeasure. The mutual pining between you had been a constant back and forth for what felt like ages, and it was almost humorous how in denial it seemed you were.

Laios always spent time chatting with you before bed, his soft voice carrying so much warmth. You always noted how fuzzy your head felt whenever he’d talk about something he was especially interested in. It was almost heartbreaking to part with him to finally rest, longing to continue the conversation for as long as you could.

Little did the two of you know that the rest of the party had their eyes on you, tired sighs leaving each of them. This was every night now, and the fact neither of you were making an effort to come to terms and admit what you were feeling was beginning to become tiresome.

Chilchuck huffed, head in the palm of his hand. “I can’t believe that this is still going on. I’m tired of it.”

Marcille tutted, but the frustration at both of your ignorances was seeping through. “There’s got to be something we can do. They’re obviously so in love with each other...”

And right she was, with how absolutely enamored Laios had become. He’d never felt this way about anyone, the feeling seeping into his bones slowly but surely. With every smile you gave him, words of encouragement, or even reassuring touches, you made yourself at home in his mind and heart. Laios was content with just the whispered conversations and adventures together, not quite piecing together the entire situation just yet.

Marcille was not so sure that was something to be content with. Izutsumi was also getting fed up with the constant beating around the bush, and Chilchuck was sick and tired of watching this ordeal occur. The three of them had decided that enough was enough, and through gossip-like whispers, they decided on a course of action.

“I’ll try and talk to Laios,” Chilchuck settled, although he wasn’t entirely happy with the idea of helping an inner party relationship unfold. It was even harder to watch the two of you continuously pine after each other blindly, so he chose what he believed was the lesser of two evils. “You two convince you-know-who to get some one on one time with him somehow.”

Marcille hummed, finger tapping her chin. “Maybe we could get Senshi to cook something up just for the two of them, get them on a date of some sort.”

Izutsumi flicked her tail in annoyance at this entire scenario, before giving her own opinion. “Let’s just get them stuck in a trap or something.” At that, the elf across from her shook her head adamantly.

“Although that might work another time, I think setting them up would work best. We’ll all conveniently go off somewhere and leave the two of them to talk it out. Somehow…”

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to get the two of you alone together. Laios would explain something about a monster your party had encountered earlier, delighted at your interest in anything he had to say. Before he knew it, the rest of the party had excused themselves after dinner, leaving just you and him with a cooked meal and unsaid words hanging in the air.

Even earlier, Chilchuck had decided to try and drill it into Laios’ skull that perhaps coming to terms and admitting what he was feeling wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Grasping for straws, Laios tried to create excuses that what he felt for you was just that of a close friend. There was no way he was falling in love, right? Yet, the look Chilchuck had given him shut him up quickly.

“You think friends just look at each other with that lovesick face you’re always making? And it’s not exactly hard to see just how much you care about them. It’s actually pretty obvious.” The half-foot grit out, floored that Laios still hadn’t figured out just how deeply he had fallen.

Marcille and Izutsumi had a similar problem with you, finding that you were convinced what you felt was just that of a deep friendship, of course you weren’t actually absolutely smitten with the man. Giving each other a knowing look, Marcille continued her prodding.

“I think there’s more to this,” the way she said your name so softly held your attention. “You need to talk with him. Maybe talk through just what you’re feeling.”

So now, as you took another bite of your dinner, you tried to figure out just what you were feeling. Laios was doing the same, and the silence, which was never a problem before, now hung with tension.

Both of you tried to speak, before signaling the other to continue, before giving a light laugh at the awkwardness. It wasn’t that just being in each other’s company was the problem, but more so that there was so much left unsaid.

Laios ran his hand through his hair, giving you that tender smile you had come to love so much. “You first.”

Another laugh left you, before your current train of thought followed through your words. “So I was wondering… Have you ever been in love before, Laios?”

That caught him off guard, swallowing hard before thinking of the right thing to say. “Well… I, uh…” A beat of silence followed as you let him find his words. “I wasn’t sure before today. What about you?”

Trying not to get your hopes up, or have the flame within you extinguished so easily, you smiled. “Same here, actually. I think…” You trailed off, just staring at his rosy cheeks and intent gaze making your heartbeat a little faster. Setting your plate to the side, you bit your tongue for a moment. Talk through what you’re feeling… You can do that.

“I guess I didn’t really realize, but… Lately, I’ve been really eager to be around you.” Your voice tried to fight back the tremors rising within you. Before you could continue, Laios grabbed your hand and gave you that intent expression again.

“Me too! I mean, I always really enjoy our talks. I look forward to them a lot.” He spoke a tad out of breath, trying to reign in how he was feeling. Another beat of silence, followed by the clearing of his throat.

“I think I’m in love with you.” You both muttered at the same time, before the feeling of both shock and excitement coursed through you. There was… no possible way, right? But with that doting smile and lovesick gaze he was sending your way, you began to think he did feel the same.

“Thank the gods,” you whispered, a huff of relief leaving your lips. “I had to have Marcille and Izutsumi make me realize.”

Laios laughed, cheeks flushed with delight. “Yeah, Chilchuck definitely gave me a talking to. I think Senshi tried to help me realize, too. It was definitely interesting.”

Both of you shared light giggles before Laios gently pulled you into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck.

“Sorry it took me so long.” He whispered, inhaling deeply, the air leaving him in a content sigh. Your eyes fluttered shut, shaking your head slightly in reply. “No need. That’d mean I’d need to apologize too.”

You pressed sweet kisses to his cheek, to his nose, to his forehead. Laios beamed, intertwining your fingers as he spoke from the heart just what he had been trying to come to terms with. You did your best to do so, too.

Chilchuck, Marcille, Senshi, and Izutsumi all let out sounds of relief at watching the two of you around the corner. Getting both of you to finally realize the extent of your feelings was difficult, but oh so worth it in the end.

“Finally,” Chilchuck grumbled, before scratching the back of his neck. “That only took, what? Forever?”

Senshi grunted, trying to recall just how long it had been. Izutsumi even watched as Marcille rocked back and forth on her feet, a certain sparkle in her eye.

She’d have to get the two of you to be open more often.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune!! <33

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Preferences

Adar x Reader | SMUT🔞

You find your Lord Father in a crowd of Uruk, facing off against a warrior and find out new things about him after.

Based off this meme post and with a special appearance of Pushkrimp who belongs to @holykhepri (I hope I did him justice, friend!!)

Cheers and howls could be heard far past the borders of the Uruk campsite, the place you called your home now as well.

Taken in as a stray who mamaged to worm her way into their leader's heart you, a simple mortal, now lived among the ones that were considered even lesser beings.

You had heard these sounds often before.

On quiet days the Uruk men fought, for entertainment and prizes of weapons and food rations. It was the only thing they could place bets with.

The only off thing about it all is that Adar was nowhere to be found. You wandered around the camp in spirals, getting further towards the camo's centre where most of the residents had gathered. Normally it was easy to find your Lord Father in these moments, and he always notified you when he'd go out.

So where was he?

In an instant the loud noises of the crowd going wild intensified, excitement carrying with the sound of countless gathered Uruk. And then stomps of weapons and feet in a rythmic pattern started, along with the all too familiar chants of "Nampat".

Curiosity got the best of you, your search now forgotten as your feet led you towards the noise.

It was easy to find the crowd, and just as easy to get to the front of it to see what all the commotion was about with all of the Uruk letting Lord Father's favorite mortal pass by.

The chants were still going as you wormed yourself past rows of bodies until the clearing came into view.

The first thing that appeared in your vision between the shoulders of Uruk still in front of you was one of the larger warriors that lived in the village. He was at least two heads taller than you and equally as wide. Thick, strong body with corded muscles under his pale grey skin adorned in warpaints and his chest adorned with two metal rings pierced through his nipples.

His pink tinted ears stood at attention, focused on his current oponent.

Adar, who you had been looking for this whole time. No wonder the crowd went so wild, they had finally gotten the match of a lifetime. Their undefeated warrior versus their Lord Father, the ancient Uruk.

You watched as they circled each other, Adar carying nothing but his sword tip dagger and gauntlet, his sword now in the hands of a young one watching on the front row who held onto it like he was given a blessing.

In the ring that had formed naturally by the crowd the two Uruks circled each other, the tall one, Pushkrimp, taunting his Lord Father who gave no thought to it.

"You know you can't beat me in battle." Adar's voice sounded and was backed up by sounds of support from the crowd.

"Humor me." Was all he got for an answer before he was charged at, only barely managing to dodge and trip his oponent, but not without being grabbed by the leg and pulled along to the ground, Adar's dagger landing in the sand just out of reach.

Adar was quickly overpowered, a smirk on the taller Uruk's face as he held fhe side of his face pressed into the dirt.

"You wanna yield?"

The crowd went wild at the quick settle, distracting Pushkrimp just enough for Adar to move his legs underneath the taller Uruk and toss him off of him and getting back up.

"I don't yield that easily."

The truth was, he had no option to overpower the much larger Uruk before him so his only option was to tire him out for now. He'd have to endure.

"Good." Pushkrimp stood tall, rolling his shoulders aa he stared down at his elder. "Neither will I."

With that he charged again, this time succeeding in grabbing and Taking Adar to the ground, knocking the air out of him and earning a loud gasp from you now on the front row.

Both sets of eyes found you, and in Adar's you saw a fire light up at that moment. With the claws of his gauntlet he grabbed right into the muscle of his oponent's arm, prying the hand off his chest and rolling from under him. Using his current position and hold of Pushkrimp's arm he tugged at it and shoved a foot into his side to topple him once again. He had hoped to get back to his dagger but the way he had tossed the Uruk he had set himself at the wrong side of the makeshift arena.

The Uruk laid on his back with a hand at his side where the force of Adar's kick had landed. It was surely going to bruise.

Adar took his chance to straddle the taller Uruk, the metal of his gauntlet pressing hard on his oponent's neck as he stared down at him, eyes dark and irises blown wide, his breaths deep and rugged.

You recognized the look in his eyes, it was one he had given you some times before in private after typically frustrating days. Days that usually ended in both of you nude and spent after hours of him letting out frustrations and you giving up your body for him.

Adar's presumed victory was shortlived as his hair was grabbed, earning a pained groan from him and with a swift move was back underneath the warrior who had a smirk on his face as he leaned down to taunt his Lord Father in black speech.

You watched as Adar took in a deep breath and harshly headbutted the taunting Uruk who cursed in return.

The two wrestled, limbs tangled, punches and kicks barely missing. It became clear Adar's stamina was much greater, and while Pushkrimp's movements got sluggish, Adar was still ever as precise with each calculated moves.

Still, Pushkrimp got quite some hits in. Harsh blows to leg, arm and torso caused many instances of loss of balance for the ancient Uruk, but the hit he took to the face was his last straw.

With a breathy roar almost he returned a punch, then two and threw him aside. Then three and Pushkrimp was on his back in the dirt, out of breath with one hand wrapped around Adar's throat to keep him at bay.

Adar sat himself atop the larger Uruk, his gauntleted hand grabbing at the one around his throat almost immediately.

The look in Adar's eyes was now obvious to you. It was a look of lust, the display of strength seemed to be going to his head and genuinely turned him on.

You thanked him for wearing his longer tunic and chainmaille to hide the effects the fight was having on him.

The crowd fell silent in anticipation as they all took in the sight before them.

Pushkrimp's massive hand wrapped around their Lord Father's throat, but his grin never faltefed even with his airway cut off. Adar's gauntlet dug deep into the flesh of the Uruk's arm, drawing blood as black as pitch.

Pushkrimp's other hand was on Adar's arm, unmoving as nimble fingers had threaded themselves through one of the metal rings that adorned his chest, and Adar pulled it taut.

You had never seen Adar so feral. Hair wild, panting and grinning and his pupils blown wide with lust, eyes wide staring down at his oponent waiting for his next move with heaving breaths.

"Yield." The old Uruk's voice rasped in the eery silence of the crowd.

Only a snarl and a deep growl came from the one beneath him, having Adar give a harsh tug at the ring, raising his brows.

A groan left the warrior, his hand letting go of Adar's arm.

"Alright I yield." His other hand let go of his Lord Father's throat, allowing the smaller Uruk to get up.

Adar's eyes were on you the second he rose back to his full height, the cheers and adoration landing on deaf ears.

Behind him you saw a group of Uruks from the crowd move to pamper their favorite warrior.

"Come, love." Adar's voice was low and his hand was on you the second you were within reach. With his palm pressed at the small of your back he led you away from the crowd and back to his private quarters.

"I've never seen you fight like that before." You tried to make conversation as you neared his home but all he did was smile down at your words.

Once you were inside Adar's home his armor clattered to the ground along with his gauntlet, the chainmaille following soon after with a thud. He was so fast you barely had time to move around before you were pulled onto the furs he slept on.

You were pulled into his arms, resting on top of him when your earlier suspicions from the fight were proven to be right.

"Adar.." you sighed against his chest. "Did the fight truly excite you this much?"

You got a confirming grumble in response, paired with a grope of your backside.

"I never thought you to be so.." Nuzzling his neck you thought carefully of your words. "So, varied, in your preferences."

Adar raised his brows and looked down at you. "Do you find it strange? That I choose to not let gender get in the way of my attraction to anyone." His hands still absentmindedly kneaded your backside, your legs having found their place on both sides of his. You could feel his hard member press against you through the layers of clothing and decided to give the one who held your heart what he wanted, grinding your hips agains his.

"Not strange, no." Your lips found his ear, brushing against it ever so softly. "I'll even admit seeing you dominate that giant was rather arousing." You swiped your tongue over the edge of his ear, earning a raspy moan.

"So different, then and now." Kissing the tip of his ear got you a harsh buck of his hips.

"Melisse, please don't tease and undress your Lord Father." Adar's hand moved up to cup your cheek and move your lips away from his sensitive ears. He was happily submitting to you but he would not show you how easy it was to bring him to his knees at any given moment. He was already embarrassingly close to finishing from just your lips at his ear.

Your hands found the hem of his tunic and began slowly moving it off him, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside before moving to kiss and bite all over his scarred forso.

You dragged your tongue flat over one side of his chest, right along one scarred over nipple that had him stir underneath you. His reaction had you humm against his skin before you bit and pulled the skin between your teeth, imitating the move that made his oponent hield earlier and making him moan out loud, more vulgar than you had ever heard him.

"Hahhhmm.. melda." Adar's hands found purchase on your hips as he ground himself on you twice, three times before he stilled with a breathy groan.

He slumped against the furs to catch his breath, panting with each teasing movement of your body above him.

You couldn't agree on which version of your Lord Father you preffered. The feral, fearless leader who remained undefeated in battle had you soak your undergarments, but the shuddering, mewling Uruk who called you every sweet name under the sun had your entire body yearn for him.

"Oh, Lord Father.." You discarded your dress and undershirt in one swift move and leaned forward. With your hands splayed out over his abdomen you squeezed your chest between your upper arms and rolled your hips ever so slowly over his twitching length. He was still hard.

"You wouldn't let your rían go unsatisfied?" Adar's hands came to find your chest. One grasp more rough than the other, even without his gauntlet adorning one of his hands. The black scars winding around his fingers were a strong contrast against the smooth skin of your breast.

When you felt he was good to go once more you moved fo fully undress the both of you and rub his cock between your soaked folds. He was stained a sheer black at the tip and below his bellybutton, evidence of finishing before.

Your pink flushed centre atood out agains his pale skin and the dark tip of his length that peeked from between your lips.

"I am for you to use as you please, my love." Adar's scarred hand ran down your body and stopped on top of your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Again he caught you off guard with his words. He had used simple terms of endearment before, but those were almost always in moments you sought comfort and reffered to how he found you pretty ams such. Not even during previous intimate moments had he made any notion that he thought of you as a partner of a romantic nature.

Never before this day had he reffered to you as his lover.

You took him in, soaking up how beautifully at peace he looked. But no matter how gorgeous he looked in that moment, you were eager and watched his mouth fall open as you moved to slide the head of his cock past your entrance.

You moaned in unison as he stretched you wide open, his nails digging into the soft plush of your thighs.

Each roll of your hios earned you a soft gasp from the ancient Uruk, having given up his body for your pleasure entirely.

It took no effort to have you moaning and nearing your own end, Adar's length fit so percectly within you he reached your most sensitive spot with each soft thrust upwards to meet yours.

You could feel it in Adar's movents aa well that he was close again.

"Where do you wish to spill, lord?" Your hand splayed out across his collarbones, just beneath his throat. Even with him at your mercy you did not dare to wrap your digits around his throat. But his scarred hand left your hip to find yours, guiding it into the perfect placement and showing you the right amount of pressure.

Adar's head tilted back, your hand was on his throat and he begged. Pleaded you to allow him to finish inside of you, for he loved you so.

You never dared to let him before, always answering his same question with an answer of 'anywhere but inside, Lord Father' as you were afraid he saw you as just a partner to bed whenever he needed relief. But now you knew those were all lies your mind conjured up.

You picked up your pace once more, pulling more and more sweet sounds from your partner.

"Hahh.. Adarr... I beg you please finish inside of me." You knew the risks but nome of it mattered anymore. The thought of starting a family with him drove you right over the edge, squeezing your walls in release with a loud whine.

"Please.. Let me bear your children.."

Your pleas were all Adar needed to pull him along with you as your walls tightened around his cock, spilling deep within your womb and slumping back against the furs, allowing you to rest atop of him to calmly catch your breaths.

"You love me, Adar?" You nuzzled his chest in comfort.

"And you wish to carry my offspring." His hand softly carressed your back and you felt his gaze on you.

"Many young Uruk already call me mother. And now I know you truly care for me."

If you were told on your first day at the campsite you would one day share a bed with the father of the Uruks you would have resisted, tried to flee the area. But yet here you were.

You spent your day with him under a thick wool blanket, taking a bath and sharing dinner. All while discussing the future, starting with your belongings being moved into Adar's home and announcing your new title as true mother of the Uruks.

But those were worries for tomorrow.

Today was just for the two of you, the ancient Uruk and his mortal wife.

[ganondoodle]

since i have seen this argument pop up again and again and now its used to defend the minecraft movie

i really hate the argument that something, be it a movie or a game, can be as shitty as it wants when its primarily aimed at kids (or people THINK it is aimed mostly at kids) bc its 'just for kids'

like children are lesser an stupid? like they arent incredibly impressionable and deserve good movies? im not saying they should only watch critical acclaimed drama movies, but you can make a movie 'for kids' AND make it good, its been done before, sure there will always be shit movies, and thats fine, but dismissing any kind of criticism towards them bc "its just for kids" feels so unecessarily mean spirited towards children, like they are little people in wildly different stages of development!! they can think too!!

'kids' itself is such a wide range that i feel its not very useful as a category anyway, a 5 year old isnt the same as an 11 year old, both of them should get good things, and both can watch or play things they may not completely understand yet! i grew up with shrek, and while a big parody and haha fart humor movie, they (1+2) have an incredibly strong core, i didnt udnerstand them fully when i was little, so what? i still enjoyed them, i felt more connected to them than any disney movie (bc hey .. the monster is the main guy and no they dont all turn into conventionally pretty humans as the ultimate reward- i felt othered throughout my life too) and i still do, theres jokes and themes and meaning i understood fully only when i was rewatching them as an adult, i still enjoy them even at 27

and like, shouldnt it ESPECIALLY matter what children watch? (not in the puritan brain worm way) bc they are ... people in development?? do you think if they just sit down and watch shitty movies and play games that dont challenge them at all, be it thinking critically or emotionally, all day it wont have an affect on them??

(im sorry to bring up totk again, but that 'its for kids' argument has been used to defend it so much too, and its so incredibly annoying to me, ah yes, its puzzles are all skippable or easy as shit bc its main target are kids and children are stupid and shouldnt be challenged ever, the story is a simple fairytale type deal maybe to you, but contains alot of harmful stereotypes that have led to real world harm and its repeated unquestionably while offering nothing intersting to think or engage with, theres a reason alot of childrens media contains alot of stereotypes to propaganda even but its just for kids of course its not propaganda bc kids are stupid and cant understand that lol BECAUSE they are so impressionable, if a series 'for kids' only lets the girls be in frilly pink dresses and do 'girly' stuff do you not think that wil affect how they think about themselves??

if they keep seeing the light skinned blonde heroe stab the unquestioned evil arab stereotype bc he wants to take over your holy land bc hes just 'evil' and is never ever humanized in any way and only presented as a monster, while the good little maiden princess does everything she can to support her hero in shiny armor with big sad doe eyes and pretty little white dress- do you not think it will affect them? if it were an isolated incidence perhaps not much, but its a stereotype perpetuated to such a degree that you think its just 'how fairytales go'? yeah, you have been influenced by these portrayals, they are working as intented- and if they are used as such in media without the writer intending to influence you that way? thats even worse bc it means it has been so normalized to think that way people dont even realize it- while alot of real people in the world are ganondorf, they are demonized and dehumanized, others think of them as inherently evil.. but its just a "simple fairytale"

yes i know children can also question things on their own, but you shouldnt assume that comes naturally and then also in just the correct way, i questioned why i was just doing whatever the talking boat told me to do when i first played windwaker as a kid, but more bc i liked how ganondorf looked and hated being told things to do without a good reason being given (autism much?), 'evil' didnt do it for me, but that doesnt mean i knew he was an evil arab stereotype, i didnt like tetra turning white as zelda, bc i thought she looked cooler before and i didnt like 'girly' things myself, not bc i knew it was whitewashing

-not saying media should be free of anything 'problematic', the problem is how its presented and never questioned or engaged with critically and then that stupid argument being used to dismiss it like children are both unable to think and not influencable somehow-)

[eldritch-spouse]

PINNIE I WANNA PUT BELO IN AN AMAZON POSITION, is that what it’s called,,,? I DUNNO DONT CARE I WANT THIS ANGEL BOY BENEATH ME—DOMINATE HIM AA!! Also it’s funny imaging a small human bending a large angel :}

[YOU'RE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE OOOOOHHH-💨 Fem reader. You are not Admin in this.]

TW: Reader is slightly pushy at first but it's entirely consensual.

" I want to try something different. " You muse out loud.

" ... My Lady? "

Sex with Belo is great.

Upon first meeting the angel, you had one or two assumptions in your head that you thought held true. That angels are asexual, incapable of carnal desire. You thought he'd chastise you for expressing attraction to him, that he wouldn't make for a pleasing bedmate anyway.

You couldn't have been more wrong. Belo is none of those things.

In fact, the signs were there from the start. Belo had been struggling with containing his own desires for a torturous amount of time. You simply didn't want to interpret reality for what it was. Didn't want to believe that lingering touches meant more than just a different perception of personal boundaries, that his longing staring wasn't just a tendency of angels to be vigilant... Even as he confessed to finding you the most gorgeous lesser there is, you didn't believe that attraction could hold within itself the selfishness of lust.

Obviously, you know much better by now.

You know Belo craves to please you at any capacity he can, that your approval and ecstasy in bed is something he always seems to put before his own. And you love the sensation of his body atop yours, his sheer size, his warmth, the trembling need barely contained in his limbs when he sinks into you and that unforgettable softness experienced when your hands roam around his furred figure. It's bliss from beginning to end, your own little Eden provided by the angel that somehow proclaimed you his savior.

And yet...

Sometimes, it feels repetitive.

Like Belo is somewhat scared of doing something you would consider inadequate, so he sticks tightly to what he knows. Especially positions and gestures you have initiated in the past. You initially understood this as a sign of Belo's timidity and slight apprehension regarding such intimacies, but as time passes, you're fairly certain he himself is longing to try different things.

And you've been plagued with a certain mental image for a while.

So why not try your hand at it?

The power stares expectantly at your seated form on the couch by the doorway, having previously been in the kitchen, busying himself with chores you didn't assign or request of him- As usual. He dons on his front one of your aprons, the cloth looking ridiculously tiny on him, covered with stains you assume belong to sauces.

He's always wearing that black tight suit, it almost makes you feel bad for preferring to put on loose-fitting and comfortable clothes in your own home.

" I want to try something different, Belo. " You repeat.

There's a humorous pause wherein the angel tries to calculate what you might be talking about, your poker face and neutral tone betraying absolutely nothing. His eyes widen, and the non-human straightens immediately.

" Yes, of course my Lady! I've been looking at those uhm... " Belo gesticulates oddly, searching for words he doesn't necessarily understand. " Those digital cookbooks you have, and I spotted this very good-looking dish- "

Oh. Oh the poor thing.

He thinks you're talking about dinner.

The laugh that erupts from your throat is hearty and genuine, startling your devoted celestial into ashamed silence. Maybe he assumes you're mocking him for trying to use your social media bookmarks to cook. It's a genuinely sweet and loving effort from Belo, one of very many, provided he doesn't require nourishment in the form of actual food like you. You don't want him to feel self-conscious about something so considerate.

Rising from the comforting cushions, you approach the taller monster with a dubious little grin on your lips, hands dipping behind the apron to tug the long open collar of his outfit forward, down, your eyes meeting his two naturally engorged ones. The angel's tilted eyes have always been a touch too intense, but you know that's in his kind's nature, especially since he told you his specific cast specializes in combat and protection. Still, it's ever easy to get lost in those pools.

" I said something new. "

This time, there can be no type of misunderstanding. Even if Belo had the thickest skull in all of existence, the way your lids bat coyly and your head cants leaves zero to the imagination. An index flirts idly with neat clumps of fur as his chest begins fluffing in tension. He has no saliva to swallow down, but you wouldn't blame him if he gulped at this moment.

" Ah- I... I see. "

With a gentler smile, you undo the apron's knot, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of Belo's face, hearing him coo a noise out, before carefully removing the garment in a way that causes the least discomfort possible to his smaller pair of wings.

" Did you leave anything on in the kitchen? "

" No, my Lady. "

He doesn't quite know what to do with himself, hands previously twitching by his sides now holding each other at his front, before he decides the pose isn't appropriate and holds them at his back instead, straightening- As if you needed another reminder of how he towers over humans. Three eyes bounce everywhere in the room, avoiding you as he always does when nervous, yet occasionally fleetingly checking for some type of approval in your gaze.

Cruelly, you allow him to remain in that riled up stasis for a few precious moments, standing on the tips of your toes to further crowd him.

" Good. Leave dinner to me tonight. "

When you take that lightly furred pale hand in yours, Belo follows obediently after you like a lost puppy.

" Undress. " You begin as soon as you're inside the bedroom, not even bothered to look the angel's way as you start arranging the sheets and pillows.

You're going to put him in a position that might be a little stressful for a being with wings, so there's a lot of caution to be exercised here. You figure support for his lower back and neck should help. After all, he takes similar measures with you regularly.

The sound of something soft hitting the floor has you finally looking back, faced with your angel now bare, flexing his wings gently. You've always wondered how he doesn't struggle with taking off clothes given his large wings, you'd certainly consider it a chore, just as many demons hate sweaters that get caught on their horns.

Belo presents himself to you, standing straight and spanning his wings a certain distance -Careful not to hit the walls- And spreading his legs the slightest amount in spite of his ever present slight nervousness. You've always liked that little tuft of fur above his slit, the way it feels against your fingers when he neglects to trim it for a while.

" My beautiful angel. " You praise. " Come, undress me. "

And really, if there was one request you could make of the all-powerful beings Belo so frequently raves about, it would be the ability to see the way his furious flush spreads from his face to his already fur-covered neck.

Supremely gentle and dexterous fingers work at your clothes with the same reverence he continues to extend your way no matter how much time passes. You'll never get used to this level of sweetness, this worship, Belo touches you like with a love so profound you can swear you somehow feel it in the tips of his digits. Even in his moments of seemingly greedy pursuit of gratification, Belo doesn't seem to know how to be anything except devoted. Maybe it's because he's angelic, but you can say for certain that you've never been treated this nicely, and you've never longed for anyone's embrace as much as you long for his.

The power doesn't let his fingers roam too much when he follows your command, intent on getting things done dutifully as opposed to demonstrating lack of self-control. His eyes however, swirling windows to the soul of a celestial, reveal everything he refuses to voice or act on out of respect for you. Belo's pupils dilate immensely as soon as your bare breasts are exposed, his digits acquire a slight tremble as he makes to fold your top and set it down on the drawer, until you playfully bat it out of his hand. Belo sinks to his knees in front of you, and the view is so paradoxical -A holy creature kneeling to its gods' mistake- That you nearly burst out cackling. Instead, all that leaves your mouth is a silent gasp when he catches the hem of your sweatpants and drags it down, hooking over your panties as well. The trip down is slow, measured, and you know it's not an intentional tease but you still shimmy to have it fall faster, catching a twitch in his largest eye, while the one beneath it has fixed itself on your naked pussy.

When his task is completed, Belo remains kneeling obediently, palms flat on his thighs.

" Thank you. " You purr. " Sit on the bed. "

He does, albeit on the very edge, quickly correcting himself when you make a "further" motion.

Seeing the way Belo's eyes widen as you move to almost straddle him is as intoxicating as it was the first time. You remember the luxurious roll of your hips over his own, recall his fingers twitching as he tried to grab onto you without bruising frail human skin. Delightful and memorable.

" Lay, my sweet. "

Ever the glutton for obedience, it's not long before the angel is on his back, and you immediately take the opportunity to flatten your palms to his furred chest, fingers threading between that familiar softness like second nature. Your head soon joins, nuzzling yet careful to avoid the extra eye stationed there. You trail a path of lazy kisses upwards, tracing the edges of his built-in halo you can reach and dragging your teeth across the root of his left pair of head wings.

The response is instantaneous and intense, this sudden cooing moan hopelessly erupting from Belo's throat before he seems to pale even further in shame and muffles the noise. Tsk, it seems he'll never learn to sing freely, no matter how many times you reassure the power that his angelic vocalizations are half the fun. Those smaller wings twitch and flap, the ones on his back fanning out humorously.

" You're adorable. " It's said in a mocking tone, followed by laughter as the angel fails to suppress more noises when you offer the remaining wing equal attention.

You love that he's already matting his own fur in slick by the time you reach down to part it and play with his pretty pink slit. It's engorged, his length already brushing against the fingertips that brazenly dip inside. With a gasp, the power spreads his legs slightly and tenses. You can feel his effort to keep still.

As soon as you begin crawling back to settle your head between snowy legs, he gathers enough wit to start babbling the same old drivel.

" M- My Lady, you need not- "

" I don't need to, I want to. "

Belo looks at you like he doesn't quite get the point. And frankly, some concepts seem to have been drilled so hard into his mind that you worry he will never understand other views of the world.

" You want to please me, right? " You start, kissing at his sheath until the very tip of him shows itself.

" More than anything. " The male pants.

" Then you should know that pleasing you pleases me. "

And with that, you take what's available of his rosy length in your mouth, coaxing the rest of him out almost impatiently.

Belo's choked groan of surprise has you smiling around him, amused by the impulsive horse buck of his legs before he garbles and apology and tries to melt back onto the sheets, poorly. He won't hold your head. Not from lack of desire, but that ever-persistent sense of inferiority, fisting his hands on the fabric beneath him instead. When one of his arms does rise, all he does is shakily pet your hair, inhaling sharply at the swipe of your tongue across his head, before dropping it again.

" Lady... "

He moans pitifully, a delicious sound coming from a creature so supposedly holy.

As much as you'd enjoy keeping him between your lips, your goal this time is much more fun, so you pop off him lazily. There's a moment where he twitches and his fur bristles in what anyone can guess is instinctual irritation, but Belo doesn't say a peep.

Seeing his eyes bulge when you grab Belo's thighs and start bending them up is hilarious enough that you giggle openly.

" What- What are we doing, my Lady? "

" Relax, I promise you'll like it. " Or at least you assume he will, what with his desire to always be below yourself. " Now please, hold your legs up for me. "

The title would get repetitive if you didn't enjoy it so much.

The angel does, grabbing the back of his knees and sliding his legs back with the help of your guidance, until they're basically glued to his chest. He's fit, you're not surprised he can easily hold that position. In fact, you get to see the exact moment it clicks in his bird brain, the nature of the position he's in. His cock bobs aimlessly and his wings move almost as if to cover his figure sides in shame. And, admittedly, the view has all sorts of chills taking hold of your limbs, your own womanhood singing.

" My Lady, this is so... So...! "

Eyes roll slowly at his stuttering, though you relish the tremor of his pupils when you move to hover over him, as if your much smaller body could ever constitute as a minimal threat to his.

" Filthy? Lewd? Scandalous? " You kiss directly beneath his eyes. " Yes, just how I like you, my debauched dove. "

With a soft command for him to hold still, you rearrange the pillows beneath his body properly and take a moment to figure your own position correctly. After all, as much as you've thought about doing this before, you never actually got to make that wish come true, so it'll take a bit of experimentation.

Belo continues to be mildly confused. " No- No offense, Lady, but are you sure this is correct? "

You scoot to line Belo's member up with your entrance, rubbing him against you to spread the angel's arousal and facilitate things. He shudders in anticipation, the lowermost eye on his face already rolling in pleasure.

" Why wouldn't it be? "

He's not given a chance to respond before you gradually sink onto his girth, causing such a reaction that he nearly releases his legs before holding them ever tighter.

" Gghn-!! O-Oh... "

Sparing him the smallest mercy, you're slow to rock yourself on him, letting the first shock of heat flow through him before you're flush to his pelvis. It's a wonderful position, he's hitting you deeper than usual already, ripping a soft mewl out of you as your cunt clenches greedily around the intrusion.

" See? " You huff, slightly out of breath when you experimentally bounce a little on him. Belo whines long and low, unsure what else he can do to ground himself. " It works just fine. "

The first few rocks are entirely random as you try to quickly work out a rhythm and motion that works well enough, settling for straightening up and grabbing Belo's ankles for support, careful not to twist the tiny feathers there. Finally, you're able to get into it properly, a sickly delight on your face as you watch Belo's figure shift beneath your thrusts.

Is this... What you look like to him? Not a bad sight at all.

Belo's eyes, previously closing at the first taste of rapture your walls brought him, widen like the dinner plates at the notion that he's being well and truly fucked by his human. There's a pause where it looks as if his mind has truly been fried, one eye fixed on your face, another on the sway of your tits, and the other memorizing the way your pussy swallows him.

You won't lie, the rush of dominance, of having something so much more than human willingly present themself for you, allowing a tiny human to ride them into submission- It has you beside yourself with want, and your smirk crashes into a pleasured "oh" as you join Belo in his stunned marveling.

You'll be doing this a lot more often, for sure.

" Hhn- Oh lords please- I- " Belo melts and shivers, his chest fluffing itself further and his wings twitching sporadically. " Humans have- Developed such odd mating customs... "

He's talking like he isn't throbbing madly inside you right now.

" Mhm, you need to catch up on a lot of stuff, pretty boy. "

Though of course, you'll be personally helping with that.

When your mind starts blanking in bliss and your body gives its first warning signs of an approaching peak, you look down at Belo, whose head has tossed onto the pillow supporting his neck and whose wings fan out in a tense crescendo of pleasure. His legs and feet spasm periodically and he moans the wetter his fur becomes with your slick.

Another reason you like his fur is the surprising amount of friction and texture it can offer your clit when you're intimate. It's the soft brush of a feather almost, but enough to bring you closer to orgasm all that quicker! Honestly, the only downside to Belo's incredibly soft fur is that vacuuming is a little more frequent and pesky.

In moments, you're bending to be flush to his body, batting Belo's hands away so you can hold his legs back yourself. It's an even more intense angle, making you feel even more powerful as you hold the angel down and piston his cock into you as hard as you physically can, sweating and panting in exertion.

You're sure you must look downright beastly right now, but all Belo does is whine and mewl, still gazing at you as if you were the most entrancing thing to ever exist, a wonder of the universe above him. The power gathers enough motor coherence to brush strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ear, before his arms flop uselessly at his sides once more, fingers curling in delight.

All those lavender eyes begin to roll, his hips rising off the bed yet smacked back down viciously by the weight of your body thrusting him down, in the midst of his mindless crooning noises, Belo utters your name like a plea for mercy and wraps his arms around your back, your breasts sliding on his chest and his legs reflexively fighting your grip so he can presumably wrap them around your smaller figure too.

He's a vision of the sweetest dream like this.

" Gods please don't stop- Please please- I'm sorry I can't- " The angel cries, tears beading in the corner of his three eyes, absolutely helpless and hopeless beneath you.

All of it comes together to send you well over the edge, throwing you into a climax so shockingly strong that you fuck yourself on him one last leg-shaking time before tensing and crying out to the ceiling. He follows instantly, having been holding himself for a while. You relish the sensation of Belo's cum shooting deep into your hole, only to have no choice except to drip back down and stain him, slip between his legs and yours in grossly warm globs.

Seconds of you two catching your breath silently and fondly pass, until you slowly release Belo's legs and rub his thighs in gratitude. He seems content to remain holding you, though avoids your gaze now that the post-orgasm clarity has him bashful again.

" Thank you for humoring me. " You sigh against his neck.

His wings close over the two of you gently. " Always, my love. "

[ae-neon]

Sarah Janet, do NOT piss me off

“Enjoyed that*, did you?” Chaol growled.

“Immensely.” Celaena patted Chaol’s arm as she took it in her own. “Now you must pretend that you like me, or else everything will be ruined.”

“You and the Crown Prince share the same sense of humor, it seems.”

“Perhaps he and I will become dear friends, and you will be left to rot.”

“Dorian is more inclined to associate with ladies of better breeding and beauty.” She whipped her head to look at him.

He smiled. “How vain you are.”

She glared. “I hate women like that. They’re so desperate for the attention of men that they’d willingly betray and harm members of their own sex. And we claim men cannot think with their brains! At least men are direct about it.” (🙄)

*The "that" in question being Dorian telling Celaena about her alias as a jewel thief

(after picking her up from the mine, spending a night there, spending 2 weeks on the road to the capital and having spent at least a night in the castle. He has already said her real name out loud in public, she has introduced herself to a servant and signed a letter with that name but sure...)

Then Dorian insinuates both him and Chaol are both sleeping with her/gonna sleep with her? All to slight Kaltain, instead of just telling either his mother the queen or Kaltain herself that he has no interest in her. So no, men are not direct about it.

Also Celaena earlier drops a potted plant from a balcony, aiming directly for Kaltain because Kaltain was bad mouthing her over Dorian (Celaena's captor technically) but misses, so really saying she hates Kaltain for betraying and harming members of her own sex for male attention is too ironic. Not to mention Celaena almost breaking her neck when Chaol implies Dorian is out of her league. Typical sjm MC hypocrisy

ALSO ALSO Kaltain is a lesser noble woman in a patriarch feudal society. Her life DOES depend on men. She literally has no choice in the matter

“They say that her father is as rich as a king,” Chaol said. “I suppose that’s part of why Perrington is so infatuated. She arrived here in a litter bigger than most peasant huts; it was carried here from her home. A distance of almost two hundred miles.”

“What debauchery.”

“I pity her servants.”

“I pity her father!” They chuckled, and he lifted the arm linked with hers a bit higher.

First of all, Chaol is a lord. Celaena is a princess. Both are in the favour of the prince whose dad basically owns the continent and benefits off of slave labour. Pointing out that Kaltain's father is rich is supposed to do what exactly

Second, Celaena girl...

"I pity her father🤣😭🙏💯🔥💀"

Literally I wouldn't care if Celaena hadn't tried to justify her behaviour and just said she hates Kaltain

but to try to use the mental gymnastics of liberal feminism to say Kaltain is bad because she's competing for the prince's attention (her literal job as a lady of court) while also saying men are naturally less messy? And being a messy catty bitch with your colonising male friends while you do it?

So much of this book is nonsense like this. Celaena tells us she loves clothes and dressing up and being pretty and so girly

but then swears she being stabbed by her corset and that her dress is impractical and that's why she prefers tunics and pants because it's easier to kill 37 grown men in combat that way

But then dresses in a corseted dress for the first day of the competition despite not knowing what to expect

Nothing is adding up.

To be fair, these things can coexist but in better writing they would present themselves appropriately. Here it is just thrown together one sentence after the other with no attention to the blatant contradiction

[reds-ultrakill-brainrot]

hiya! firstly, thank you for filling my current brainrot on this game, you are the best

could i get some gabriel romantic headcanons? enjoy your day!

You Were Like an Angel to Me

gabriel romantic relationship headcanons

x reader content (intended romantic)

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- he had never taken much of an interest in having a hobby before, his duties had never given him the time. this changes after he meets you, your passion in your hobbies inspire both affection and interest in him, and it isn't long before he begins practicing in his spare time to share with you - it isn't the most surprising thing that he is incredibly touch starved, however the issue goes further than that. Gabriel was designed to act as a soldier for God's will, a spear against the darkness and a voice for the aimless. the only compassion intended in his design was that for heaven's chosen, not himself. his reaction to comforting touch is shock and immediate discomfort, not to the physical sensation- he could drown in that, but in what it represents. all he had ever recieved were compliments for his actions and abilities, the people of heaven revered him, but they did not truly love him, not like you do. it takes a fair amount of time for him to settle to the idea of intimacy, but once he does he incorperates it into nearly every interaction, wether that be a lingering touch or a short embrace - i imagine his wings aren't corporeal, however this doesn't stop him from wrapping them around you while the both of you cuddle. he sees it as his job to protect you from the numerous threats across both heaven and hell and he knows with you safe in his arms nothing bad will happen - despite his distaste for their inhabitants he does appreciate the architecture and views around certain layers of Hell (such sentiment has never been voiced and never will while he serves the council). if you appear interested in viewing any of the more notable sights around Hell he will volunteer to take you, being that you are willing to go no further than an arm's reach. he trusts you, however he does not trust the wretched beings that inhabit Hell - a majority of his tasks are dealing with the more distasteful tasks such as quelling unruly inhabitants of Hell and overseeing the conduct of other lesser angels. he rarely wishes to recount his day to day activities, much preferring to hear about your own day to day life, mundanity and all. such domestic normalcy is a dream to him, so please humor him with details of chores and unruly hair, nothing would make him happier - he is quite easy to fluster, especially with any particularly forward expressions of affection. he quietly delights in the attention he receives for his reactions; teasing may have a slight sting to it but is much easier for him to digest than soft words - if you ever choose to dress in his colours or in similar attire you will find him enamoured, his gaze unable to leave you for long. he very quickly notices the gesture and the creeping burn of a blush doesn't leave him until he is forced to take a moment to compose himself - he is especially gentle with you. oftentimes he chooses to let you initiate physical contact to allow you to approach it at your own pace and to avoid manhandling you by accident. he is exceptionally strong, and all it would take is him being distracted to grip you too firmly and bruise you, or, Heaven forbid, worse. he has seen the damage that his wrath incurs and would sooner perish than harm you - he (much to his own dismay) doesn't have a mouth to kiss you with, however the both of you have learned to make do with other gestures. touching foreheads has to be his favourite, there is something about having you so close to him that calms him almost instantly. of course you are still able to kiss him, and despite his, at times, inelegance in other romantic interactions he is always quick to respond if you peck his cheek; expect to be swept up in his arms for a hug

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the sneak peaks at the new chapter have been really interesting so far, i am excited to see where Hakita is taking the plot (especially Gabriel's story) next

[b0xerdancer-writes]

The Rockrose and the Thistle

Tamlin x Reader

Summary: After Feyre had destroyed Tamlin's life he had just started to piece his life back together when he discovers his mate, sadly the mother has a sick sense of humor for Tamlin.

Prompt: Mates/Flower Language

Warnings: Angst, graphic violence, death, war, not a happy ending at all.

Word Count: 3,342

Notes: Short but its angst and I made myself cry thinking about this one so here we go!

Based off the song of the same name by The Amazing Devil. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rockrose, a low maintenance plant that is drought tolerant and can survive with minimal attention; they are seen as symbols of endurance, strength, and determination.

Thistle, a sharp flowering plant that is characterized by the prickles that cover its exterior, sometimes seen as terrible weeds but particularly amazing for pollinators; they are seen as symbols of protection, strength, devotion, bravery, determination, and victory.

+

Tamlin strolled through his garden, new additions had been added as he tried to rebuild the manor for her. His darling mate. A dull ache throbbed in his chest, there had been no good days since she had been injured in the war, before Hybern he had just begun to put himself back together after Feyre’s departure. 

He had met her, a lesser fae that was half forest nymph, in one of the villages close to Rosehall; he had rode out to see what damage had been done and what repairs needed to be made around his court, when he had seen her kneeling beside a crying child offering him a dandelion.

“Make a wish Percius, don’t say it out loud, hold it in your heart and wish upon the flower.”  She spoke softly.

The boy's sobs slowly turned to siffles as he nodded to what she said and blew the small white specks of dandelion to the wind.  She rubbed his back and helped him to his feet, the child thanked her before he ran off.

The white mare made a noise as he entered the village that drew the female’s attention, her eyes had struck his soul and he clutched at his chest; a golden thread attached the two and her own eyes widened. 

He jumped from his horse, the white mare following obediently behind him. “Its a pleasure to meet you my lady, I’m Tamlin. I come to your village to aide in any recovery efforts you may need. It would be a pleasure to have you escort me around so I may get to know my mate.” 

“A pleasure to meet you my lord. Your recovery efforts are not needed thankfully. We have a good relationship with the dryads and nymphs in this area, they helped us with rebuilding.”  She introduced herself with a pleasant smile. “However, if you still wish to get to know me, I can give you a tour.” 

“It would be a pleasure, my lady.” He bowed. 

He had toured the village, impressed by the unique style and structure the nymphs and dryads had weaved together with the ruins of the older building.

“If you don't need to move on yet my lord, would you be inclined to join me and my family for dinner tonight?” She offered.

“I would like that, my lady.” Tamlin responded. 

“There is something about my family you should know before we head to the house, my father is a forest nymph. I'm half nymph and so are my little brothers.” She chirped anxiously.

“How fascinating, though I think nothing of it.” Tamlin replied.

“My father can come off as a bit protective.” She noted.

“As any good male should be over his family.” Tamlin smiled.

“Okay. I think that is all I have to warn against in my family.” She huffed dramatically and Tamlin snorted in amusement. 

“Then let us join your family for dinner.” Tamlin mused.

She led him through the dirt streets to her family’s home, a small farm on the outskirts; she led the white mare into the barn and removed her tack before letting her back into the field, she had seen the fern green hair of one of her younger brothers dart into the house and sighed.

“We have company, we better head inside now my lord.” She mumbled, enjoying her time alone with the pleasant male. 

He smiled and cupped her face gently in one hand. “Don’t let the boys bother you darling, they are young and inquisitive.” 

She nuzzled against his hand before leading him inside, the two small boys peaked from behind the counter before scrambling to hide in their mothers skirts.

“Welcome home dear, the boys told me you have brought a guest.” The female, heavily pregnant, looked up from the pot on the stove.

His mate cleared her throat ready to introduce him and their newly formed relationship, she was soft, gentle, and everything she was not. “Yes mother, sorry I did not inform you sooner. This is Tamlin, our high lord and my mate. I invited him to get to know you all.” 

Her mother looked up quickly, excitement evident in her eyes. “Mate? Oh that's wonderful love! It's a pleasure to have you dine with us tonight! My husband Siriden will be home soon, he went to help the Hawkley family with some repairs to their animals coop. My name is Renata, the twin boys are Caius and Kyren. Please make yourself at home my lord.” She ushered him to sit, the multi-green nymph eyes of the boys stared around the edge of the cabinet.

“Please lady Renata, Tamlin is fine.” He smiled sitting in the carved wooden chair Renata had pulled out for him.

“Please my lord, Renata is fine.” She blushed and patted his back.

The second Tamlin was sitting, the boys stared him down from around the edge of the counter. Tamlin flashed them a fanged smile and they came running over, surrounding him and asking question after question about what he did as a lord, how cool it was to fight naga, his beast form, any and all things little boys could think of asking someone like Tamlin. His mate however joined her mother in the kitchen helping her set the table and plate the food. 

Siriden pushed the door open and the boy's attention jumped from Tamlin to their father and they swarmed him.  “Caius! Kyren! My boys! How good it is to see you.” 

The male's nymph blood was evident, his skin tanned and faded into dark green at his knees and elbows; his eyes the same as the boys at his knees, a dark green sclera and a leafy color iris.  Dark fern green hair mixed with vines and leaves was pulled half up in small braids. Tamlin could understand Renata’s appeal to the male.

Tamlin watched as his mate dried her hands on a cloth and moved towards her father, taking his coat from him. “Welcome back father, I hope everything went smoothly at the Hawkley's farm. We have a guest with us this evening.”

“Thank you dove, everything went smoothly besides having to herd the hens back up.” The male's eyes moved from his daughter to Tamlin. “My lord! Apologies for not greeting you sooner, it is an honor for you to join us but may I ask why?”

Renata lit up and came to stand behind Tamlin, her hands resting on his shoulders. “The High Lord is our daughter's mate.” 

Siriden’s eyes widened. “Really! Well I must know how this revelation came about! I'd love to hear the story over dinner.” He took his seat at the head of the table, the boys to his left.

“It's nothing that exciting sir, as I’m sure you're aware, I've been making efforts in restoring the court.” Tamlin explained, “I was riding into town and she was knelt down by a small boy who was crying, she offered him a dandelion to wish away his worries. It reminded me of something similar my brothers would do when I was a babe. Then the next thing I know is the Golden thread connecting me to her. She offered to introduce me to everyone here after showing me around the village.”

“Dryads and nymphs are tight family groups, we normally stay with our parents till we marry; as a way to help raise our siblings since numbers within a family can become so large for us, we normally are all incredibly close till we die.” Siriden chimed, “it's why she wished to introduce us so early.”

Tamlin nodded, Renata brought Siriden and the boys’ plates, his mate brought him his before sitting beside him. The evening was great, Tamlin had laughed so hard tears had found their way into his eyes and his ribs were sore; it had been so long, he thought, since he had laughed like this. 

The next day he brought her and her family up to the estate. The boys ran around the garden all afternoon, while he discussed courtship and marriage with her father. He led her around the halls on a tour like she had with her village and then they had dinner in the grand dining room, they joked and laughed till the boys collapsed on the couch; Tamlin hada carriage take them back to the village, he had helped her in and kissed her hand before closing the carriage door.

+

The two were married within the month and the bond had been consummated the night they were wed. He had worn a dark emerald green tunic and riding pants with his knee high boots, crown, and tabard. She had worn a sleek lace dress traditional in Nymph and Dryad communities, it was off white, the lace made images of flowers and nature, it was off her shoulders  and Tamlin couldn't imagine her in anything better.

She supported him when he explained his plan with Hybern, he needed the intel and he needed her to play along as the oblivious doting wife but be present amongst the dryads, nymphs, wraiths, and other elementals incase he needed them to join his army in the war. And play the doting wife she did, Hybern never even suspected a thing until the night Tamlin helped Feyre and her sister escape his camp; she had been ‘kidnapped’ by Rhys and Feyre, when really she was rallying the forest folk and the ancient fae that were rumored to exist in the woods around them. When Tamlin had defected she tucked herself right into his side, a deadly glint in her eyes. Feyre would admit the female had scared her when she had first seen that glint and was just happy that the glint wasn’t pointed at her, even though she definitely deserved it.

One thing no one had expected was the fae bane antidote barely working for the elementals. Something Hybern had put in the bane had the potential for fatality if an elemental came into contact with it, but thanks to the antidote it kept them from immediately dying but immediate action needed to be taken to save the fae. In the throws of battle several elementals had fallen before they realized what was happening; they had lost approximately 70 nymphs, dryads, wraiths, and other variants of elementals. There had been a meeting with the healers to determine why the elementals had taken such a massive loss in comparison to the others that had been hit with the bane, at least the cause had been evident due to the pronounced purple veins. Tamlin had rocked her to sleep that night as she wept, she had felt like she let her people down.

The next fight had better results, an emergency squadron had been implemented with every battalion; if any fae went down it would be treated as an emergency and if it was an elemental triple antidote concoctions had been implemented until they could get them to the med tent. The plan had been working, Tamlin and his wife had been thrilled, his battalion had consisted of him, his mate, her father, 6 members of the spring court guard, and 4 other elementals. Their squadron had been on foot when they were ambushed, a barrage of arrows had come their way, the familiar purple glow of bane on the tips of the arrow heads. 

Her father had been in a close combat fight with one of Hybern’s soldiers, she had seen the first arrow of the barrage before the rest had; she had howled out the warning for the barrage and rushed towards her father, he had cut down the soldier and turned to see her just as she pushed him out of the arrows path.

Tamlin felt his world shatter as his mate’s scream echoed in his ears. His blood roared as he ran to cover her collapsed body as the arrows buried themselves into his own back. Once all arrows  had hit the ground she had been rushed to the med tent and he had all of the arrows pulled from his back, then his rampage had begun; he had ripped a wound through Hybern’s wall of soldiers so he could get back to her, back to his wife.

Unfortunately, the healers in his battalion were ill equipped, they were short two vials of antidote. They had been able to inject her with one additional vial of antidote, the bane had found its way far enough into her bloodstream before they made it into the med-tent and injected another dosage into her that it had caused permanent damage. When Tamlin pushed through the privacy curtain his heart broke further as he fully felt her pain through the bond; he had wanted to scream and break down for her since she couldn’t, they had to restrain and gag her as the bane burned its way through her body.  

The healers had to pull Tamlin from the room as her body began to convulse in reaction to the bane in her blood. Siriden had comforted the male as they waited for news of the female’s wellbeing. Eventually, a nurse came out to the awaiting males, a sad look in her eyes. 

“She’s pulled through, unfortunately the bane was in her system strong enough and long enough to permanently affect her.” The female sighed. “We don’t know how it will affect her, she's asleep right now.”

Both males had thanked her and slipped into the room, one on each side to hold her hands and ask the mother for help. A silent look between them of complete agony, the atmosphere of the room was an embodiment of sorrow itself and the on edge tension was palpable to anyone who walked by.

+

Tamlin had hoped she would pull through, but as he stood in the garden arranging a bouquet for the vase of her room. She had never fully recovered, the bane burned her veins so badly she had been bound to the bed of her room in agony. Every move she made, even breathing hurt her, he had to step out after her screaming and begging had become too much for him, the dull throb of her pain in his chest numbed every day as he had gotten used to it; he truly hated what he was doing, hoping if he made her endure it eventually light would show at the end of the tunnel and they could begin working on getting her back to her feet. 

The flowers in his hand echoed back at him as tears began to well in his eyes, Rockrose, a promise of endurance and his determination to see her through this; and thistle, a promise of his protection over her and his devotion to her.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and he tried to push her begging to let her go from his mind. She had given up, he knew all the fight she had was gone,  but he just couldn’t let her go yet. He had lost one love, he couldn’t lose his mate too. He sighed and slipped back inside, he had instructed a healer to slip her some milk of the poppy to get her to sleep; she slept softly almost like she wasn't in pain at all but the purple of her veins was a brutal reminder of her waking agony.  Tamlin set the combination of flowers into the vase, pressing a kiss to her forehead he pulled the thin quilt over her body. 

He had kissed her goodnight, opened her window to let the soft breeze into the room, and disappeared into their old bedroom. Tamlin tossed and turned every night now that her side was cold and barren, the blanket was never messed up now and it was agony to him. In the middle of the night he had been awoken to the screams of his love, he let the nurses go every night so he slipped back down the hall and into her room. She was sitting up and sobbing, the blankets pulled back and her legs dangling from the side of the bed; Tamlin moved a few steps into the room and tried to comfort her but she shoved him away.

“I can’t do this anymore Tamlin.” She sobbed.

“Love please, you can make it through this.” He begged.

“It's been a year Tam, I should have recovered from this already if I was. The bane should have been deadly, Tamlin let me go please.” She broke down.

“We can talk about this in the morning, love.” Tam soothed trying to coax her back into bed.

“There won't be an in the morning Tam, I’m done fighting through this. That's why I’m asking you to let me go now.” She sobbed and sniffled.

“Sure there will be love. It’s just the fever and delirium speaking.” He crooned and picked up the small pitcher of poppy milk and poured it into the serving glass.

She drank it with a sigh. “Okay Tam.”

TAm kissed her head, and tucked her back in; when he got back to his room he broke down into a sob, her asking him to let her go was the final straw for him. He knew the day would come when every ounce of fight left her but he would give her his fight, he'd guide her through this. Eventually he had cried himself to sleep only to be woken by a panicked nurse. A small female, whose face had paled; an ache in his chest was the answer to his question before he had even asked it.

“Prepare her body then, I’ll be there to see her as soon as I get dressed.” He had taken a sharp breath, tears biting at his eyes. 

The female had nodded quickly and ran from the room, Tamlin dragged himself from bed slowly; he pulled the only black tunic from his closet and threw his tabard across his chest. He leaned on the door frame, and tried to breathe through the pain in his chest; he slipped from the room and out of Rosehall, down to the priestesses temple. His lover laid on a stone slab, he bit his tongue as all of the females gave him sympathetic looks. 

“Decorate her body in thistle and rose rock please.” Tamlin had to fight the sobs from his throat.

“Weeds? My lord I-” a female had interrupted.

 Tamlin roared. “I said I. Want. Her. Body. Decorated. In Roserock. And Thistle. They are symbols of strength and protection.” 

The females squeaked and the one who had called them weeds apologized profusely,  the rest of the females began work immediately. Tamlin pressed one last kiss to her forehead before he stepped back through the grand doors of Rosehall. At a loss for words Tamlin climbed the steps to the room she had occupied since her return from Hybern.

The window he had opened for her the night before was still open, the sheer curtains blowing in the wind, the room was sterile and medical except for the vase that sat on the end table; full of the rockrose and thistle he handpicked yesterday, the wind blew across the vase and the flowers. A whistle echoed through the room as he watched the flowers shift in the wind. The whistle sounded so much like that of the arrows that ruined their lives, he couldn’t fight the sobs any longer. He sat on the floor and let the sobs rack over his body as he thought back on every moment he had gotten to share with his darling little mate, the rockrose to his prickly thistle. Taglist:@tamlinweek

[warmerstranger]

SAPPY AND THUMPING HEARTBEAT!

ft. (separate) Mayoi Ayase, Midori Takamine, Tsumugi Aoba.

This took me ar.4 days while studying their character, sorry if they're not still exactly on point wee ;( not beta read.

°°``summary: they like you but doesn't take things further when you suddenly become their very drive to a new point of relationship.

°°``Marked as and included with: fluff, angsty kind of, Mayoi being a silly creeper guy.., stalking implied but not extreme, self-deprecating humor... Just a few heads up, nothing too much ^^ also, I'm thinking the timeline for this is in !!/Music era

Mayoi Ayase

The one who takes things slow like baby steps while feeling that he doesn't deserve you. At the beginning, insistently asking if you maybe want to reconsider and apologizing because he have become your very wrong choice. Even though he was just pleased watching out for you from afar like the secret admirer he is... But, please don't misunderstand, he's actually has been dreaming this moment! He just can't help it that he still always have thoughts of your breakup in various worst case scenarios and he every so often compulsively expresses it. Holding onto your trust in him, he's slowly learning and working to be the best boyfriend so the chances of you leaving him is decreased.

Dating with Mayoi involves...

➻❥ Lots of understanding and reassurance coming from either both of you. He can easily pick up on your social cues, thus knowing instantly what would make you uncomfortable (even if he sometimes misunderstands thinking he's the source of it) and handle the situation well in a way your worries will be left scurrying off♪ so, please go easy on him whenever he makes any mistakes and goes on apologizing while belittling himself profusely about it.

➻❥ Acts of service. Even without you telling him, he can be unexpectedly a gentleman, shown through little gestures that would make him sound as if he's lesser than you although he means well. You wouldn't need to open a door by yourself and dirtying your hand with the unknown doorknob that have been in many people's hands so let him be the sacrifice since he's already not that 'clean' himself. Wiping your sweat off your face? Leave it to him, it's always been a dream to have a close up on your face he could die happily. The very same guy who would also lay on the road when you have to step over a puddle please stop him

➻❥ Physical touch. Depends after he learns that you've grown comfortable enough with him. Sometimes when you merely complimenting or acknowledging his efforts, he would tear up and hug you, saying you shouldn't be so kind to him since he wouldn't be able to hold himself back from spoiling you with all of his physical affection he could muster... He swears his heart could give out yet his grin is that of the most giddy man living if you're the one who would initiate it first. Surprisingly sudden yet tender in his advances.

➻❥ Vague menacing flirts; “Times like this makes me raring to put my beating heart out on your plate I wish my ribcage is a closet easily opened by you.”

“I feel so complete being with... you, I wouldn't mind having you wear my skin if I could.”

➻❥ Vulnerable, trembling kisses that barely graze your lips before slowly securing the right position with them, placing the effect of a stillness in space and time. Mayoi would muster up the best kiss he could give and still apologize if that one kiss isn't that good to you. He's not one to refuse for more kisses if you so wish, a better result he promises.

➻❥ Messy morning and evening text of 'i love you's accompanied by little cute emoticons along with specific cautionary expressing his worry 'Please always look both way when crossing the road!' or 'Please be careful of having your phone out in the public... it might get snatchedd or worse I'm sorry'

➻❥ You braiding his hair, him pampering you by styling your hair or giving you some accessories to decorate your outfit. His gifts are mostly sparkling trinkets he found from the ES vents secret rooms, stuffed animals, and little diorama of your anniversaries with him.

➻❥ Domestic indoor type of dates at home where this man is more like personal servant sometimes waking you up and making breakfast or dinner. Occasionally on some uneventful days though, there are other times you realize that he really is still your boyfriend.

~~~

A gentle greeting hangs up in the air, not reaching your ears even as he crouches down and peeks to you from the foot of your bed. He then creeps toward the side and now watches your rythmic breathing, feeling bad for what he's about to do but reminding himself that it's for the sake of you too.

“(Name)... Wakey-wakey... I'm so sorry I have to disturb you out of your beauty sleep. I know I'm only an annoying pest but please—umm, you're not.. no, no, you have to wake up. I have prepared you breakfast...” he whispers, nervously frowning.

“Yesh... just wait.” Stirring awake, you mumble before staying silent again. Giving you a few minutes as he admires your face, he soon shakes his head fervently. “Th-this can't do... (Name), you're perfectly fine with it, then, right? I'm sorry, ple-please don't mind, you can hit me all you want or banish me later though I would rather you—In a-a-anyy case! Pardon me...”

He slithers under your sheets knowing you aren't getting up any sooner, cuddling and nuzzling to you with hopes that you would be bothered enough to wake up. Yet, Mayoi wants this moment stay for as long as it could basking in your overall blissful presence.

Chuckling to him, you reply. “Gee, that just makes me want to sleep in more.”

He beams before sitting upright while holding your hands, accompanied by a bright smile rivaling the sun. “Th-that makes me flattered, hehe maybe we can—oh, no no (Name), you can do it, just one step away and getting closer to facing this day, please.” A hopeful tone lace his rushed sentence.

“Okay, what about my morning kiss as the final push?” you ask, pointing to your cheek.

Stammerring abashedly, he closes and opens his mouth. “..I, I can't simply-! No really, I mean... I was thinking of saving it fo-for later... But, it can't be helped if it's your wish...”

With eyes tightly shut, he pecks your cheek then shuffles down from the bed. “Now, with that, please get ready soon.” he offers his hand out for you to support. “I'm all yours.”

Midori Takamine

The one who would begrudgingly goes with the flow you brought about and giving his all. Despite all the complaining of 'why does it have to be him' and 'what do you even see in him', he would've felt worse if he just refuse this very chance that might be the green sign he has been seeking for him to go forward. Midori starts feeling more at ease going out with you, while keeping his doubts to himself about you choosing a better partner than him and feeling he may as well end this dating stuff. But that would be just a bad move to go through. Because, in the end... how can he even avoid you when you're filled with expectant hopes of him like that?

Dating with Midori involves...

☘๑ His intimidating mild discomfort and informal words with actions that speak more even as he sighs often. Things would be way less difficult liking you who weren't that interested in him before and settle with having mascot characters that's similar to you... He just can't get how you have this deep a trust leaving the rest of things or counting on him to do them. Also feels like he's high in cloud nine or something whenever he manages to lift your mood. It's a simple one, but the most satisfying achievements he have ever done in his entire life, besides pretty much being known as, well, the vegetable boy. His sighs sounds more relieved with a fond smile around you...

☘๑ Acts of service. More of from your side with his greengrocer business going on. Midori does still return the favor whenever he could and it's usually out of willingness if he offers. A bit different story if you're the one who ask him first because he might just label it as a pain but you can help yourself just fine which means borrowing him as he won't refuse lending you a hand.

☘๑ Quality time. Hanging out in his room while reading casually some comics together and commenting on tidbits of it or just simply enjoying your company is all what he needs. He's not that creative enough with supportive words or reaching out to provide some physical affections (though he won't push away your affection if you do the latter first), but he's there and will always be your pillar to lean on. Every break or day off where he could be alone with you while free from works is one of his favorites. He always try to not do some tasks around those moments since he would just get stressed out because of it and instead simply sharing his attention and efforts on you.

☘๑ Veggies. Free and the freshest only. He would give you some that reminds him of you or if he could imagine you as an herbivore animal...

☘๑ Rushed one-lip kiss and pecks because he's so not wanting to deal with his heart going crazy so he would rather make it quic. Things like this takes him a lot of energy and it's better than messing anything up anyway... Except when you're not satisfied, then he would try giving you what you want by picking up the rest from where you lead.

☘๑ Pictures sent by him taking a picture of some plush mascot key strap hanging from a random person's bag. Aside from that, casual texts from time to time asking 'where are you. if you can, dont make me search...' > (meaning so he could get to you faster).

☘๑ Insecurities intimate talk. He was and sometimes does still speak about his own misery and melancholic view, but lately because you've become a source of his consideration, he's more focused on your complaints and agreeing with whatever he relates to. Other times, he will keep silent since he doesn't want—more than anything—being your burden, thinking it would be too much for you on those particular heavy days to him. He can't bear it if you frankly get sick of him, even when he also feel at the same time, you would be better off saving your time and leave him for someone else more... better or not a loser like him. But if you aren't bothered and still wants to lend him an ear, he might express them, all the while hugging tight his favorite plush mascot character to try sparing most negativity away from you. He isn't against receiving some of your comfort, even if that would take some time for him to get used to.

☘๑ Besides indoor dates, there's a mascot character hunt type of date with an example of going to the arcade in some days off or as a celebration of his live success. Such as on one night...

~~~

The arcade isn't that rowdy this night where it could come as suffocating and it's just perfect for him. You both walk further into the section of claw machines for the stuffed animal and all kind of mascots behind the glass, waiting for the next seizer.

“So... Are we gonna start any soon now?” his eyes are already locked on a particular machine filled with vegetable mascots.

Earlier, you have challenged him into a competition where the winner who have caught the most will receive all catch from the loser.

“Yep, go crazy, we'll meet again here in an hour.” you reply, leaving him who answered an energetic 'okay' before he runs over to the machine not far away on the right side.

Not long after, he soon have gotten three of his targets finally in his hands after many determined tries. There's suddenly a surprised 'wahh' voice sounding near by his side which causes him to press the button at the wrong time and as the result, the claw misses. “Uuh... It was so close too dammit, so annoying, wanna die...” he mumbles, looking down in despair when that same voice revealed to be a little boy speaks out.

“You're great, big stranger brother! Can you please catch some for me?”

An hour later on your way to the meeting point, you catch a little boy carrying a round bag full of mascots running with a big smile from the way where you meet Midori. He's scratching his head awkwardly while holding three plushies in his left arm. “Well... This is all I got.” he sighs, gesturing to the plushies.

“Oh, I also got three, luckily... what happened though?”

He glances between the plushies you have and at the floor. “Got too carried away winning for that boy earlier, so the others were...” his gaze soon return to your face with a slightly agape mouth. “Wait... Three, does that mean it's a tie?”

You nod. “Yeah! Oh, no, wait, the catch you did before still counts too, you're practically the winner. So, here. These are cute but I had fun just playing.” Handing them out to him, he instead shakes his head and pushes them back.

“No, no, thanks, you don't need to though really... I would just feel bad. The final fair results is the one we have in our hands right now.” he then smiles, “I still had fun too, anyway. I think my inner child just healed, thinking that boy reminds me of the childhood. At least, all the mascots have found their place in each of a happy owner. That's why, I could trust them to you.” On the rest way back, you can tell from how he sounds eager telling you fun facts and the backstories of each plushies you have, that it was indeed a fun time for the both of you.

Tsumugi Aoba

Similar to Mayoi, Tsumugi would be unsure how to pick up the initiative and if he's befitting of a love life. That's why, as long as he can help you from time to time and indulging in the warm feelings from seeing you happy is already a lot enough than what he could ask. More so, he feels responsible, mixed with bitter guilt that you have decided to choose him of all people... But he will try not to disappoint you and does his best, though in that aspect he somehow still acts like a friend with benefits most of the time, who doesn't seem to be treating you any different than others. That's until you find his acts are more apparent in multiplied forms and earnest expressions like your treatment is the result of being placed at the top of his world.

Dating with Tsumugi involves...

❁♡‧₊˚ His inviting aura that lets you reach out to him easily for anything you might need or if you're encountering some difficulties, even when he's in the middle of doing something, it's important to hear you out no matter what it is and think about how he can help. Unless there's some urgent work needing his attention firstmost, he would apologize with a disappointed frown, offering to plan another time between the tight schedule where he can aid you completely so he would really appreciate your patience. He would make it up to you, and he does, more than what you expect even. It feels like he has such motherly vibes, because he could be bringing the drinks you want along with some refreshments too for the discussions. You don't even realize a small torn part on your jacket until Tsumugi tells you and offers to sew it, he doesn't mind because he could show off his ability.

❁♡‧₊˚ Words of affirmation flows smoothly from him the second you seem troubled or depressed until your thoughts can be tidied and held under your capability of control again that it's easy to feel reassured. Although, it would be a lot harder were you the one to give such words because he would deflect almost any with an appreciative smile and expression about him who is undeserving of them. He'd rather you share such kind things to others who may need it more or it could serve as a good reminder worth keeping to yourself.

❁♡‧₊˚ Acts of service, naturally. You have his full attention, always compassionate in assisting you. Furthermore, his assistance is accompanied by a relaxed chat with you. He can even manage the tasks you have to be processed in order, becoming less overwhelming and tying them with how you do things so you can do them without difficulty. Do use him to your heart's content~ it makes him happy if you especially depend on him, no trouble at all. If you're the one who try to help him, he wouldn't let you do so if he can, he's supposed to be the dependable one after all... Eventually he caves in and feels motivated to finish his work faster, though.

❁♡‧₊˚ Talk for long hours, like any topic, any reminiscing, will keep you chatting on and on with him because they just give you many thoughts to think about and experience in a useful way. Those topics would time to time include him mentioning the past with a cheery tone, yet concealing the heavy implications within... But, you don't need to think too deeply about it. Besides, he's okay, and still thinking about the future in a hopeful manner, too. It's just like any other day and have the similar tone to one would speak about the weather today.

❁♡‧₊˚ Occasionally, you would receive lucky charms and your lucky item for the day from him when the morning is about to start. He would also offer to do a reading on your fortune with the intentions of helping you get ready facing the day ahead. Even if you don't believe in any spiritual part of them, he would like it if you keep the charms or item for him. So his feelings for you could stay safe in your hands everywhere you go and whenever you take a look at them, you would be reminded of him♪ that's what he would like to think, at least... He's also fine of throwing them away and not giving them to you again, he can find another way that would make you more pleased.

❁♡‧₊˚ Forehead kisses, soft and not too impudent for him to do. He's saving the deep kind on the lips for a better day and event such as birthdays or celebrations when he could feel like he's worthy of them. He would let you give those kisses as many as you like, but he wouldn't return them back, unless it's the time.

❁♡‧₊˚ A bouquet of flowers on every and each date with different color and type to commemorate the particular events on that day, on that note he would explain the message they symbolize if you like :) They're good as a build-up for the atmosphere, too. Even so, please excuse him being a little bit dense in the wrong moment sometimes. He can focus too much on making you happy it's almost like everything is about you rather than as a date of you and him; going any places you want to go, treating you to the food, bringing you drinks...

❁♡‧₊˚ Library and bookstore dates are his go-to usually. Even if books were not your interest, his presence already does much to make the experience fun and rewarding. Besides that, he likes visiting few diners with their special steamed red sweet buns which are his favorite. The moment he mentioned it with such a happy satisfied smile, you realize it would be good to buy him some especially on this late night in the library.

~~~

Already covered by his own blanket, he was slowly dozing off at the second you call his name out. “EEP—sorry I'm not... Oh, (name), it's only you. Your voice sounded so soft I thought a ghost was whispering to me, you see.” he smiles sheepishly. “Is there anything you need? You should go to sleep soon... though I'm not the right person to be saying this, huh, ahaha.”

Putting a tea on the long table, you then give him a wrapped box which he accepts. “Enjoy them while it's hot, let me handle your work.”

“Is this...” he leans his head closer to the box, eyes widening in realization of a faint smell wafting from the box. “Ah, I know this smell anywhere! Thank you, (name). For the tea and the buns. But I didn't do any work, it's only a few lesson plans needing to be reviewed. I'm almost done with them. I have troubled you enough...” The still closed box is laid down on his lap.

“Yeah, right, your eyes are almost done sleeping there too. Let me handle them if they're only few left.” you take a seat from his side.

“I have a much better idea, how about we eat this buns together? I don't think I would be able to keep myself awake if I'm left alone while you're focusing on them.” He moves the box up on the table, closing the distance between you and him while he wraps the blanket around you. “There we go. Today was really exhausting, but I managed to finish all the works. Well, except that one. Fufu, what reason do you have for staying up late?”

“..nothing much, just worried about you.”

He takes a bite from one of the buns, humming delightfully. “How thoughtful of you like always. I'm glad to be the one who occupy your mind at this time, thought I can't say I like the thought of worrying you.” Finishing a piece, he then leans on your shoulder. “I can still get some sleep and, I will be revitalized enough now that you're here. Tomorrow too, with the warmth and care you provide me, I can try working harder again as usual. I don't think I could ever repay you back even with this insignificant love I have compared to the dearest you. But, I hope you can still accept my best everything of efforts for your happiness...”

[numberonegalaxycomputer]

Agent 1 and 2 was done so dirty and wrong.Including the cherubs.

They were competent antagonists to now dumb and annoying waste of characters in the show.

I know the Cherubs were annoying even in their first appearance but man.The concept of angels being fallen by an accident,self defense and stuck in a moral dilemma(damn if you do,damn if you don't situation where the IMP keeps pestering them when they only want to help)is so intriguing (them killing the old man in accident out of self defense from the IMP).Their potential is wasted to make heaven appear bad or dumb in hell(full moon).

The DHORKS could be interesting.I am excited for characters especially humans that can beef up with the supernatural.but instead it was a "secret" organization funded by something? Then when they show proof of demons, the government and church?(With the priests soldiers arming the gun in that scene).the way they show their operations seems like another lesser evil.As the Agents react nothing to the girls being killed in the hell's portal as a joke.

They became annoying instead of actual antagonists to the IMP .The way they are so defeated easily and their loss as a joke for slapstick humor is making their plot in their episodes useless.If anything they are not really an obstacle as IMP even mocks their easy defeat.just another plot device.

Don't forget how their team up sounds cool but disappointing.It could be their revenge or rather avenging themselves as the IMP did them wrong multiple times.But instead we get Cletus and Keenie acting blood thirsty angels while there is one genuine guy known as Collin being too innocent.Cletus and Kleenie reaction is justified tbh but the episode made them seems like another character being racist to hellborns litterally fighting them to death.Blitz insult them on his apology tour makes blitz apology a bit insincere.because again they are easily defeated.not even a temporary win like with striker so what is the point of them taking up screen time?what is the point of the agents being dramatic about demon hunting and the existence of DHORKS when humans are so dumb and let demons roam.What is the point of the CHERUBS existing to sabotage IMP when many times,IMP sabotage itself?.I feel like they are just here so we can laugh at them like how blitz makes fun of them in apology tour.

Cool detail I found.Both CHERUBS and DHORKS kill the IMP's client in accident.sounds like a doomed narrative.as if god is intervening their closeness to success into failure.tbf they are doomed as an antagonist already.even IMPs beefing themselves has more thematic conflict than these two.

[vodika-vibes]

Hello! The first kiss prompts, would you do one for Commander Cody?

the uncontrollable smile they break into either after or during the kiss itself

Would be so cute. The man deserves love and kisses. Please and thank you!!

Hihi~ Thank you for your request!!

Euphoria

Summary: You and Cody reunite after being apart for almost four months.

Pairing: Commander Cody x Reader

Word Count: 1124

Warnings: None

A/N: I hope this meets the vibe you're going for. But I totally agree that Cody needs much more love, and all of the kisses~

divider by saradika

It has been 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since the last time you saw your Cody. One of the more…annoying…side effects of dating a Marshal Commander means that his brothers need him to be there. 

If you were a lesser person, you would whine and complain about having to spend some much time alone. But you’re not a lesser person, and, in fact, your Cody warned you what dating him would entail before you started dating him.

So you walked into this with your eyes wide open, and you have no regrets.

Because Cody is practically perfect in every way. Kind and good. Clever and fun. A wicked sense of humor. Strong and protective, without sliding into the creepy possessive that had been a genuine concern at the start of the relationship.

That’s not even mentioning the fact that he looks at you like you personally hung the stars in the sky, which is only fair because you look at him the same way-

You release a lovesick sigh, and you lightly trail your fingers over the wooden pendant that Cody carved for you and gave you on your first date with him. A first date that got interrupted less than fifteen minutes after it started with an emergency comm from General Kenobi, and Cody had to run with an apology and a beg for a rain check. 

You’re, maybe, a little salty towards General Kenobi about that. Just a little.

Your head lands on your kitchen table with a thump, you hadn’t even gotten a kiss out of Cody yet. And damn it, you wanted to kiss him. Or to be kissed by him. Or some combination of both.

Because of his position, Cody isn’t able to comm you as much as either of you would prefer. Though he does send you a short message every day. Or he tries to.

The last one you received was three days ago, a simple message saying that he missed you and that he had a surprise for when he got back. And then…nothing. 

You’ve been sending him messages, of course. Pictures of amusing things you’ve seen outside, pictures of the new outfit you bought, a bunch of little heart emojis…and still nothing. No response at all.

You stand your comm up on the edge and stare at the screen. 0 notifications, battery at 7%...whoops, you should take care of that.

You push your chair away from the table, grab your comm, and walk several feet to the docking station in the living room. You fiddle with the device and your comm, and then you carefully set the device down once the battery light starts indicating that it’s charging.

You turn back to your kitchen, you really do need to make something to eat, when your doorbell chimes. And you sigh and your head falls back. Even odds is that it’s your downstairs neighbor, coming back upstairs to yell at you for living in your own apartment.

The door chimes again, and you groan, “Just a minute!” You call, crossing your apartment as quickly as you can to pull open the door, “Look, Mister Alobe, you cannot yell at me for existing in my own apartmen-” You stop and blink at the man on the other side of the door. He is definitely not ancient Mister Alobe.

Cody grins boyishly, “Surprise, cyare,”

You make a noise of delight, “Cody!” You fling your arms around his neck, and he stumbles backwards, his arms sliding securely around your waist to support your weight as you hook your legs around his waist. “You’re back!”

“I am back,” He agrees as he carries you into your apartment, and absently hits the door control panel to shut and lock the door behind him, “Sorry I didn’t let you know.”

You shake your head as you press your face against his neck, inhaling the scent of Cody. He smells like the fire-retardant of his blacks, gun oil, and the cheap soap that he uses while deployed. He smells like Cody. “Is okay,” You finally say, “Just glad that you’re here.”

He sets you back on your feet, but you keep yourself wrapped around him, and you feel him laugh, “Someone’s clingy.” Cody’s voice is lightly teasing, but his arms remain tightly around you as well.

“Shh. I missed you,” You reply as you tighten your grip around him. 

“I missed you too, cyare.” Cody murmurs in your ear, “Thought about you every day.”

“Did you?” you ask as you finally pull your face away from his neck, so you’re able to look him in the eye.

“Mm. Reading your messages to me was my favorite part of the day,” Cody admits. His hands slide up your sides, over your shoulders and the side of your neck, to cup your face. He smiles at you, warm and gentle, “But, I promised you a surprise, didn’t I?”

You nod eagerly.

“Okay, close your eyes.” Cody murmurs.

“You’re not going to put, like, frogs in my hands are you?” You ask, even as you obediently close your eyes.

“Spoken like someone with a little brother,” Cody replies with a laugh, “No, where would I even keep a frog on me, cyare?”

“My brother seemed to have the magical ability to just materialize them from nowhere,” You joke, “Maybe you have the same superpower.”

“Well, it’s not a frog. Promise. It’s nothing gross at all.” He rubs small circles just under your ear, “Are you ready?”

“Yep!”

“Good,” And then his lips are on yours. 

Cody kisses with the same intensity that he does everything else in his life. And you…well, you melt into him, and into his kiss. It’s everything you’ve wanted, and it’s better than you ever imagined.

And then he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, and you open your eyes. And you’re unable to stop the wide grin that crosses your face. You feel giddy, almost. And judging by the matching wide grin on Cody’s face, he’s feeling the same way.

“How was that?” He asks.

“Mm…you know, I think we should try again,” You breath out, “Testing is an important part of forming a conclusion. Scientific method and…things.”

“You just want to kiss me again,” He accuses, but his grin hasn’t faded.

“Oh, absolutely,” You agree shamelessly, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for…oh…three and a half months now.”

“Well, I suppose I have three and a half months worth of kisses to make up on.” He tilts your head back, and crashes his lips against yours again, and delight surges through you.

He kisses you like he needs you to breathe. And you tighten your hold around him…after all, you need him just as much.

[sloowoorants]

Thoughts After Watching Hannibal

About two months ago, I saw some Hannibal fan art on Twitter. It looked pretty cool, and I just so happened to have some free time, so I thought: why not watch the show? It's just a normal crime thriller, right?

I expected the type of show that's relatively light yet still intriguing, filled with sarcastic humor, starring a typical grumpy-but-genius protagonist. (This is vaguely the type of show that I’m generally into: Inside Job, Sherlock, House, Suits, Mr. Robot….)

I was so, so wrong.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the bat-shit crazy fever dream of a show that Hannibal is: bizarrely artistic gore, incessant cannibalism puns, completely unpredictable romantic subplots, torturous sex scenes that feel like angry acid trips, a multitude of absolutely unhinged psychiatric conduct, esoteric cryptic dialogue which require five google searches and a whole thesaurus to understand, two lesbian murderers "milking" a guy for his sperm to inherent his family heirloom, long scenes of intense and unabashed eye-sex, clumps of dog fur sticking to sweaty bed sheets…and a literal fucking social worker crawling out of a horse, alive and breathing and everything, covered in whatever acrid substances come from a horse uterus.

I ended up watching all of Hannibal in a week, hastily devouring it in just a few sittings.

In no way am I a professional film analyst or critic, but after having stayed up for nights on end, every single one of them spent under my blanket binging episodes until devilish hours of dawn (and barely comprehending the plot from the sheer speed I was consuming the show at, but also from sleep deprivation), I have cultivated a skull full of thoughts on this blessed masterpiece, and I need to rant about it. Which is exactly what this post is.

I am going to separate this ranty-meta-ish thing (I think a “meta” is what it’s called? I’m not sure, I don’t use Tumblr a lot) into two parts: one, about the representation of morality in the show, and two, about the intimacy between Will and Hannibal. It’s not super well written, my grammar is a bit iffy, but I hope you still enjoy reading this, and remember to take everything I say with a grain of salt. After all, I am just some guy with unrestricted internet access, a keyboard, and a little too much passion for the media I love :)

Part One: Hannibal Lecter’s Morality

Hannibal loves art. There is no episode in the entire show where he doesn’t reference some artistic thing—He plays the piano, he plays the theremin, he frequents the opera, he draws, and he finds peace at the birthplace of the Renaissance, Florence. His love for art is why he kills, he transforms people he considers to be “inferior” and “ugly” and elevates them into art. He is acting out his own sense of justice, creating meaning from the meaningless.

In a way, he must have a certain degree of respect for his victims to do what he does. He could have just killed people and disposed of their body in a dumpster, but that’s not his style. Even if he doesn’t “care” about his victims in a traditional sense, there’s this unique honesty and attentive in his murders. Hannibal cares enough about his victims to make them art. And I’m not just talking about the way he displays their bodies, I’m also talking about his cooking, because a big part of art is also cuisine.

He follows a strict code of his own ethics, it’s almost like he’s acting out his “duty” to kill, to eradicate and transform the lesser “scum” of the world. To be killed by Hannibal is almost an honor, like being killed by God personally, skin to skin. Wouldn’t you feel a sense of divinity and fulfillment if God killed you with his own hands, knowing that he respects you enough to choke you himself, then turn you into an elegant display? Every kill of Hannibal’s is filled with passion – Which poses the question, does he kill out of hatred or not? When I think of violence fueled by hate, I think of sex or race based violence. But that’s not Hannibal. He kills victims he considers to be rude, yes, but is it a humiliation? Is it degradation?

This whole "elevate-swine-into-art" thing is also shown through the way that gore is generally portrayed throughout the show, and not just Hannibal’s murderers. It’s very interesting the way gore pretty in Hannibal. It’s often meticulous. It’s meaningful.

These murders are all aesthetically pleasing. For me, it creates a cognitive dissonance: on one hand, I know that these are painful, brutal murders, one the other, they’re kind of nice to look at, which makes me think—Have I ever for a second, while watching Hannibal, considered the crime scene to be beautiful? Have I ever viewed one of those scenes as art rather than gore? As an artist myself, do I understand Hannibal’s obsession with beauty? And if so, what type of person does that make me?

And I love the way this show makes us really think in Hannibal’s shoes, because of how unconventionally it portrays him as a villain. Usually, shows will provide villains with a backstory, but that doesn’t extend beyond just creating sympathy. In Hannibal, the villain is humanized. We understand him. We empathize. And what does that make of us?

Have I ever, in all seriousness, rooted for Hannibal instead of Jack Crawford? Have I ever thought someone deserved to die in the show? Have I ever looked at what Hannibal was cooking, and thought it looked delicious, despite knowing that its human flesh? Have I ever been annoyed at innocent patients of Hannibal, like Franklyn, because I viewed them from Hannibal’s perspective?

On top of that, Hannibal’s philosophy makes sense. I find myself agreeing to a lot of the things he says.

For example, this dialogue from S2e12 "Tome-Wan", when Will finds Mason Verger and Hannibal in his house, and Hannibal asks Will if he should kill or spare Mason Verger:

HANNIBAL: Murder or mercy?

WILL: There is no mercy. We make mercy, manufacture it in parts that have overgrown our basic reptile brain.

HANNIBAL: Then there is no murder. We make murder, too, it matters only to us. You know too well that you possess all the elements to make murder. Perhaps mercy, too. But murder you understand uncomfortably well.

Does Will only have the capacity for mercy because he has the capacity for murder? Does mercy only have meaning in the context of murder? Is our own compassion a reflection of our violence?

With that said, are the things that I believe to be evil still evil when I throw away my moral believes? Is morality only meaningful in my own perception? And if so, how much am I contributing to evil if I am the one judging it? Do I create the evil that I so adamantly detest? Does deciding what is murder and isn’t not murder require the ability to, and intrinsic understanding of, murder? Can the morality of life and death be so clear cut, separated into different categories?

These are the types of questions that the show makes me ask, which is part of the reason I love the show so much.

I also love how the show puts a dark turn on empathy. Empathy is way too often portrayed as one of the best traits of all time, many claim it to be the most important aspect of mankind, but Will’s empathy is what ends up making him go on a downwards spiral: He is drawn to the darkness because he can understand it. He chose to teach at the FBI academy because he gets to feel like a killer without actually killing.

It made Will miserable, being able to understand killers. It gave him all sorts of guilt and self-hatred and confliction, which was why he was so damn miserable at the start of the show. And on top of that, no one really cared about him, Alana only had a whole “professional curiosity” thing going on (yes, I know that Alana’s character is one-dimensional because Hannibal’s female characters are poorly written, but even with that in mind, I still think that a huge part of Alana’s affection towards Will was in fact just curiosity), Jack was constantly pushing Will past his limits, so the poor dude didn’t have any connections to anyone until he met Hannibal.

And after Hannibal clocks him immediately when they first meet with the whole “your  values and decency are present yet shocked at your associations” situation, Will experiences his first kill: Shooting Garet Jacob Hobbs. Ten. Times. Then he confesses to Hannibal that he liked the feeling of killing him.

But Will can’t let go of his morality, it’s the only thing he’s been able to hold on to this entire time. It’s his lifeline. He holds onto it so dearly because he needs to convince himself that he’s a good person, that he’s not a killer, and that he’s doing the right thing. Yet, he knows that letting that morality go would be so freeing. He wants to. Hannibal helps him let go of it, and we as viewers can’t help but be on Hannibal’s side, because Will’s corruption arc is so gratifying. We like it, deep down we root for it. And what does that say about our relationship with our own morality? Does our morality tie us down? Do we crave to be free?

Will’s killing style is different from Hannibal’s, though. He’s passionate, reactive, and he doesn’t care about the process of killing, or the display body (before you say “the firefly man”, I believe he was imitating Hannibal’s style instead of curating his own), as long as the person is dead. He kills them from a sense of righteousness, like a vigilante justice. Was it wrong for him to find a sense of pleasure in killing Garett Jacob Hobbs? Does finding pleasure in killing corrupt his righteousness? Is it worse to kill out of passion, or kill meticulously? Is Hannibal’s style of killing more respectful? Is Will brutal? Just because Will kills out of a more conventional moral judgement and Hannibal doesn’t, does that make him better than Hannibal?

Another way the show convolutes the concepts of good and evil is using religious symbolism.

For example, from S1e02, “Amuse-Bouche”:

HANNIBAL: Killing must feel good to God too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in His image?

WILL: Did God feel good about killing?

HANNIBAL: He felt powerful.

(Shocking that this line was from the literal second episode. This show got intense so fast.)

And Will’s quote from S3e02, “Primavera”:

WILL: God can't save any of us because it's...inelegant. Elegance is more important than suffering. That's his design.

Is God an artist? Does that justify what He does? Are we only creating taboo out of His works to comfort ourselves? What does it mean to view the world with a purely aesthetic vision?

It’s these quotes that really allow me to see from Hannibal’s perspective: To him, there is no ultimate purpose of the world, there is no end goal to achieve, just the creation of beauty, and that’s terrifying to think about. Even as an atheist, it’s hard to digest the belief that there is no purpose to anything. We spend our entire human lives looking for meaning. But Hannibal doesn’t see it that way. Life and death are just futile processes to create art, and there’s no bigger point behind it. The cycle of life is supposed to be art. In a way, he’s like the God (sounding like Hannibal here), giving people meaning by making them into art, just like how God designates meaning onto every creature he makes.

And the show has a lot of art parallels, not just with Hannibal’s murders. Here are some that I’ve noticed:

(Parallels, in order from left to right, top to bottom: Nude From Back by Picabia compared to a shot of Bedelia from the back, The Persistence of Memory by Dali compared to Will’s clock drawing, Le Double Secret by Magritte compared to how Will saw Hannibal after visual overload from light therapy, Ophelia by Millais compared to Bedelia sinking into the bathtub, Portrait of Pablo Picasso by Juan Gris compared to Will’s hallucination of himself falling apart in a mirror, Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan by Ilya Repin compared to the cliff scene.)

I’m not the only one that has noticed these. Here is cool blog that focuses on artistic references in Hannibal, they’ve also noticed some of the ones I noticed: The Art of Hannibal.

Bryan Fuller probably didn’t do these on purpose while directing. But it still unintentionally solidified this theme artistic divinity. So I think Bryan must, to some extent, understand Hannibal’s obsession with making art out of death, because of the way art is subconsciously woven into the show. I don’t know though, just food for thought.

Anyways. Will, at the end of the show, while being cradled in Hannibal’s arms, both of them covered in blood that appears black in the moonlight, says to Hannibal: “It’s beautiful.”

And all that morality fleets and becomes insignificant in the face of aesthetics.

To Hannibal, beauty is moral. To Will, morality is beautiful. Have the lines begun to blur?

Part Two: Hannibal and Wills intimacy

“For [Hannibal and Will], two people who have been wandering their whole lives through a world in which they have not really experienced any viable form of connection with another human being—because they’re two extremely unusual people—and then they meet.”

-Hugh Dancy quote from SDCC 2013

Hannibal loves will. He drew him and Will as Patroclus and Achilles. He was ready to run away with Will in S2. He surrendered himself in S3 just because Will rejected him. And lets not forget the little twitch in his face when Francis attacks will. And when this dialogue happened (S3e12, “The Number of the Beast is 666”):

WILL: Is Hannibal in love with me?

BEDELIA : Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes. But do you... ache for him?

It is my belief that Will also loves Hannibal, although I understand that it’s not as agreed upon in the fandom as Hannibal’s love is. I think Will is just a little bit more reserved with affection, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Hannibal.

But one thing is for sure—there is a lot of homoeroticism in the show:

So, whether you think the love is reciprocal or not, the show is still, to put it lightly, really gay.

Hannibal’s love for Will is dark, possessive, powerful. Will is the only one that is capable of understanding Hannibal, and Hannibal was willing to risk literally everything just for Will to connect with him. He goes to extraordinary lengths just to make Will a murderer.

But even throughout Hannibal’s ruthless manipulation, which Will eventually becomes aware of, Will still stays for Hannibal. Because deep down, Will was willing to give up his own innocence to have that connection. Because Hannibal was the only person that could really understand Will too, no one else would be able to accept his dark tendencies.

S2e02, “Sakizuke”:

WILL: I don’t know which is worse. Believing I did it, or believing that you did it and did this to me.

(I remember reading a really good post by endlessly fascinated on how Will was actually being manipulative by saying this quote. I can’t find it though. If someone finds it, please tag me!)

Will eventually grows just as obsessed with Hannibal, as Hannibal is obsessed with him. Proof: telling Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal, telling Hannibal that he can’t get him out of his head, and that his inner voice is starting to sound like him him, and the “where would I go?” when Hannibal tells him not to leave his side, and the “one could argue, intimately” when Chiyoh asks him how he knows Hannibal, and the “before you and after you” when Hannibal asked him where the difference between the past and the future come from…I could go on forever. Will has never felt so grounded before, not in the way when he’s with Hannibal, with him, Will can see his own reflection, and he’s never been able to see that before.

And oh, the love language between them is violence. Will tries to kill Hannibal (someone tell me how many times, I forgot), and Hannibal tries to eat Will and a plethora of other fucked up shit. But in my eyes, none of those were out of hatred. Both of them trying to murder each other is out of love, out of acceptance, and out of forgiveness.

S3e06, “Dolce”:

HANNIBAL: You dropped your forgiveness, Will.

HANNIBAL: You forgive how God forgives.

And, S3e03, “Secondo”:

BEDELIA: Betrayal and forgiveness are best seen as something akin to falling in love.

HANNIBAL: You cannot control with respect to whom you fall in love.

No one can control who they love, or who they forgive, which is why Hannibal forgives Will and stabs him in the same breath. He is forgiving, not letting go.

Will forgives Hannibal too. He forgives Hannibal way too many times, throughout all the manipulation of Hannibal. Think about just how much insanity he’s endured: drugged, gutted, encephalitis abused, hypnotized, framed for murder, a serial killer was sent after his family, had his brain literally almost eaten, and despite all that, Will still forgives Hannibal—it was not a conscious decision. We cannot control who we forgive.

If Hannibal is a fallen angel, then Will is God to him. And God is indifferent, sometimes even cruel. Like Hannibal said himself, good and evil has nothing to do with God. Will forgives Hannibal, but that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t want to hurt Hannibal; just like how Hannibal forgave Will, but still gutted him. In that moment, Will forgave indifferently, so he could get back to revenge. They both forgive like blades, they both forgive with pain.

Doesn’t God forgive through punishment? God will forgive you for your sins but you still have to go to hell, right?

Violence is a pillar of stability in their relationship, it’s how they understand each other, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, the smile on Will’s gut a permanent reminder of Hannibal’s hurt, and all of Hannibal’s scars a reminder of Will’s hurt.

I see all of their trying to kill each other is affection. Hannibal doesn’t try to eat Will because he hates Will, he tries to eat to immortalize him, to keep Will as part of him forever.

And through that violence, Hannibal helped Will let go of his morality. Will had spent forever trying to repress himself—Molly was a failed attempt to escape into normalcy. Will definitely thought about Hannibal those years Hannibal was in prison.

S3e13, “The Wrath of the Lamb”:

HANNIBAL: When life becomes maddeningly police, think about me. Think about me, Will.

Will definitely missed the hunger, the violence. We can see this though the passionate way he killed the Red Dragon. He probably held Molly’s gentle hands and desperately wanted to feel something more. To feel something dangerous. Something that could simultaneously revive and ruin him. Molly never understood him the way Hannibal did, and he will never love her the way he loves Hannibal.

He did think about Hannibal when life became maddeningly polite. He probably fantasized about what they’ve done, what they could’ve done, and the feeling of freedom when he’s with Hannibal.

And Hannibal waited for him patiently, staying exactly where he was three years ago. And when Will eventually pushed them off a cliff together, Hannibal showed no sign of resistance, and just let them fall.

“I think [Hannibal]’s feeling that embrace and that’s the first thing that he’s feeling, and even as he’s plunging into the Atlantic, he’s first and foremost thinking about the man he’s holding onto and the man who’s holding onto him.”

–Mads Mikkelsen on Hannibal’s thoughts during the final scene

Their violence is something that we as viewers may never comprehend, but we can all understand their intimacy. Isn’t it what we all want, after all, to be seen?

Anyways...

Hannibal is a great show! 10/10, would recommend. Although, the lighting kind of sucks. Bryan, if there is a season four, please make the show brighter, for the love of God.

Thanks for reading this! :)

[restinslices]

Ryan Torres was saving money so he could leave Shadyside. That’s why he worked at the mall. Like others, Ryan was scared everyday that one day he’d be added to the list of dead young adults in Shadyside. Sure, he joked about it, but that’s what he did. He used humor to make others happy and therefore, it made him happy. Ryan didn’t just wanna leave Shadyside. He wanted to take everyone he could with him, especially Heather. They weren’t dating or anything, but he never wanted to leave her behind. Plenty of times Heather told him “if you have the chance, get the fuck outta here” and Ryan always told her no. He’d never leave without her.

Tommy Slater didn’t have any distinct goals. Like others, he wanted to escape Shadyside but he also wanted to give hope to young kids. He didn’t want the Shadysiders to feel lesser than Sunnyvalers just because they were born on the “wrong side” of the line. That’s why he was a counselor. He wanted to make those kids feel cared for and loved. He wanted them to feel like someone had their back. He didn’t know how he’d do it, but he wanted to fix Shadyside. Not just run and pretend nothing was happening.

Ruby Lane used singing as an escape. Shadyside could take so much from a person, but it could never take her voice. She sung for anyone at anytime and anywhere. She was the sweetest girl with a beautiful voice. The second she started singing, the world seemed to slow and everything seemed better. When she was a little girl, her mom would sing her lullaby’s and now that Ruby was older, she’d sing for her mom instead. Ruby always dreamed of leaving Shadyside and becoming a professional singer. She had a whole book where she’d write her own lyrics. Some songs were about her friends, her mom, some even dedicated to the kids of Shadyside.

None of that mattered in the end though. Only a small group of Shadysiders would know that they weren’t monsters. Only that small group would know they didn’t just go crazy. Only a small group of people would know that they were victims, not the villains the media painted them to be.

Everyone else though would only know them as the kids who went crazy. The despicable humans who killed others just because they could. Their names would forever be linked to crime sprees. It didn’t matter who they were before. All that mattered now was what the Goode’s made them do.

That’s how they’d forever be remembered.

[hearts4lilith]

I Cannot Express How Much I Hate The Minecraft Movie Trailer.

First things first; who told them the nether portal was blue. Because I will find you. It's never NOT been purple.

Portal aside, the graphics are fucking SHIT.

I would've ABSOLUTELY preferred something fully animated over that crap.

Instead of putting actual effort into it, they made the sheep and the llama look stupid and the whole rest of the world just looks weird.

Like...

THATS NOT MINECRAFT?????

The piglins and ghasts look sick as hell, I'll admit, but you can't make the animals look like THAT. WHY DOES THE SHEEP HAVE HUMAN TEETH.

Okay. It's a choice, but it's still not my biggest issue.

Next, casting.

Why, on god's green earth, is JACK BLACK playing STEVE??? The reason he worked in The Mario Movie is because THAT WAS FULLY ANIMATED. I'm sorry, I love the guy. I do. But he's not good for Steve.

The famous names on your cast aren't the reason people are watching your movie. I can promise if you had lesser known actors playing more interesting characters in a more lovingly-made movie, it'd be about 50x better.

Also, if I may, we know NOTHING about the plot. We knew stuff about Mario, we knew stuff about FNaF, and we knew stuff about Barbie.

All we know is 3 jokes in the community that they've taken at surface-level and used that.

Forgive me if what I'm about to say makes no sense, I'm very emotional about how shitty this movie looks. But I believe that this whole film is gonna be full of awful, simple, overused jokes. I think it'll be the "...iiit's right behind me, isn't it? 😬" type of humor, and not a worthwhile plot.

Minecraft is about existence, and being, and creating your own world - Taking the earth from beneath your feet and making a home, your own place to belong. Carving out your place in a world that goes on forever.

I wish I believed in this movie; I wish it wasn't a cheap cash grab, and was instead a permanent immortalization of the game that has been such a great part of my life. I wish that instead of Jack Black, all the creators that helped to make this game and community famous were included and featured and honored. I was even hoping that maybe, for just a second, we might get a shot of a pig in a crown for Technoblade.

But if THAT is what the movie is going to be, if THAT is how they want this community and game to be remembered- I think I'm happy they're probably not going to do that.

We don't want this movie. Not if that is how you're going to do it.

[carnalhaus]

any more facts on praline? she has me captivated, god what a good fucking character.

here’s some stuff !!!!

praline is very charismatic, which is surprising because she’s not particularly nice. she’s just very extroverted and has this weird ability to captivate people with her weirdness. it’s cause she’s very finicky and out of the blue with conversations, if you bring up something she doesn’t wanna talk about or give her a boring answer, she’ll change the topic without even acknowledging it. she likes making conversation with strangers and asking them questions about their life and then telling them their name is stupid and whatnot, but she’s a pretty girl and she’s smiling and she looks genuine so people usually don’t know what to think.

she has middle aged man humor and i think that’s part of the reason she can’t get along with people her own age. she likes hardly know her jokes. it’s ironic to get a laugh out of older people but she genuinely finds it entertaining. she just finds weird childish and out of date things funny.

i’ve mentioned this on other platforms but praline got held back in school when she was very little because she had numerous developmental delays (due to parental neglect). she couldn’t read when she was supposed to, among other things. and even as she grew up, she had a lot of learning difficulties when it came to math and english. she was really good at science though.

a big problem for her is she’s very volatile, and can get aggressive at the drop of a hat when she feels rejected because she doesn’t know how else to express herself appropriately. if she feels rejected in any way, she can very easily reject the person back and want nothing to do with them. you do have to be very conscious of what you say and how you act around her because if you don’t know how she reacts to things, there’s a chance she can have an outburst. stat definitely understands her best and honestly it’s not very hard to keep her calm when you just listen to her. she’s also very smart and she can tell when someone thinks negatively of her, and that can set her off.

along with the last one, she’s very attention seeking. she seeks a lot of praise but since she doesn’t really get that normally due to a lot of her offputting behavior, she usually resorts to searching for negative attention. as an example, she used to hang out with older boys who were a bad influence a lot, even those who might hurt her, just so sledge could come save her if something happened and get mad at her for it. we all know how that stuff went bc he’s stupid (he is stupid and did not scold her nor offer her support) but she still does similar things sometimes currently, just to a much lesser degree.

[sgiandubh]

La passante de la Place des Vosges/ The Passerby of the Place des Vosges: in praise of Caitríona Balfe

I have recently discussed, in as much detail as possible without becoming completely boring, S's memoir Waypoints. It is, no doubt, an interesting strategic step, aiming to buy much needed time and respite from unwanted fan attention.

But if there is a memoir I would probably read in a very different, almost sentimental way, that would be hers, not his.

We have an enticing idea of the way she writes, with this lesser known essay published by the totemic NYT just a day shy of her birthday, in 2017: The First Time I Left Home (and Fell in Love), which you can read online right here - https://shorturl.at/uTX12. It is a short, dense piece with a deeply personal, even sentimental, view of Paris in autumn and spring. Something very unusual for the feisty, secretive, almost paranoid C we all know and love (admit it, you do: fair's fair). It immediately grabbed both my attention and highlighter.

Writing about Paris, especially from an Anglo-Saxon/American perspective, is a very tricky affair. So much has been said and done, from Janet Flanner's priceless Letters from Paris and Paris Journal, to Anais Nin, to Edmund White, to Hemingway, to Orwell - just to name the ones that immediately come to mind. In this particular case, we'd be dealing with a nice PR fine tuning detail, with a relatively short lifespan, aiming perhaps to reach a more sophisticated demographic than Twitter banter or a three minutes long Q&A about the current season's antics. But a wonderful detail, nevertheless.

The year is 1998. A young 19-year old Irish model wannabe just landed in the chaotic brouhaha of Roissy Airport and the first contact is brutal, language being a considerable barrier. But before that, we are treated to a masterful bistrot snapshot, with a cheeky, self-deprecating sense of humor. I mean how perfect is this?

Quite a contrast to the dream version back home:

Touché. All the moody young Frenchmen are named Pierre, C. All. Of. Them. As for watching far too many French films, there's always been something very Nouvelle Vague about you, Jeanne Moreau and Jules et Jim & all that, and I have to say this is what I found immediately endearing. I am not talking about Claire Fraser: it is you, emphatically you. The kind of impeccably dressed woman one can find pretending to read Le Monde at Le Café de Flore's terrace in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The kind of self-evident, celestial creature whose high heels are never heard on any pavement (what is your secret?). Late Jane Birkin didn't even come close, C., mark me. However, red lipstick stains look way better on the rim of a nervously half drunk cup of noisette coffee: but then, that is me.

It was not at all like that, of course, but then something happened just across the street from the Saint-Eustache church, at Quigley's Point, a long gone Irish pub I vaguely remember. Circa 1998, our own boisterous squad used to play darts and get plastered on cheap draft beer and that undignified, syrupy manzana Basque liqueur (idiots, I am telling you, but it was very cheap) at The Bombardier, on the Place du Panthéon, just across the Seine:

Thick brogue, a quick laugh, kind eyes and blonde hair. An interesting combo, for sure. No further comment except well, this is very personal, isn't it? You've said it yourself: sometimes (fun fact: always) the really important people have nothing to do with fantasies. But we know, C, we know.

And then, suddenly, it all falls into place: Stendhal would talk about a crystallization moment. It is that split-second when everything becomes very clear. A pact of sorts occurs and all barriers are lifted. For C, it happened in one of the perfect places of this planet, spare perhaps the Piazza del Campo, in Siena:

No doubt, by tomorrow evening at the latest, I will be crucified by Mordor, but this made me think of that - different setting and context, same type of seminal moment. Draw your own conclusions:

(SRH, Waypoints, Day Four: The Hard Road)

Important things happen, too, Place du Panthéon and this moved me to bits, even if this was not a happy ending. So shamelessly glad it wasn't, by the way:

For (and forgive me for ineptly tinkering with your words) "It’s true, you never forget your first love". And for that man on that random pavement in LA, that will always be you, passerby of the Place des Vosges. The wonder you are, despite anything else: it is perfectly irrelevant.

Jacques Brel says it best, in what is almost a prayer:

[spectrumgarden]

Okay so I've never really joined the whole "small talk" argument that's been happening increasingly over the last years because I tend to just not agree with anyone I see discuss it. Like no I dont think people who use it are evil or making things hard on purpose, I also dont think it makes them lesser, ... I Also dont think that someone who refuses to use it / cant use it is automatically worse and will not make friends.

Importantly i also dont think everyone can learn it. I should know because I spent multiple years with professionals trying to teach me how to have a conversation At All and I still am actually nowhere near what would be expected at my age group. (Most recent reports usually go something like "makes slight improvements in having a two sided conversation" - because I can say nothing, or I can ramble on and then not react to your answer. The rest? Struggle time, to this day, in every aspect) No matter how many intricate guides you write, if I fail at the basic concept of a conversational structure very frequently then I will not succeed at small talk either. And additionally I also genuinely can not tell what might be too personal for this other person.

A lot of these people who get upset when people say "I cant do small talk because I'm autistic and I cant learn it, I tried and failed" and go "of course you can!", just sort of like. Ignore that a lot of the developmental delay in conversation and / or (nonverbal) language never closes up for many of us, the way a lot of us generally never reach the developmental level of our peers (in some areas). and it's not because we have not seen enough complex flow charts or not practiced enough. when so many of us literally spend so much additional time of our youth sitting in front of whiteboards and workbooks and such, being explained over and over how to talk to someone at all. I am 22 and after years of explicit teaching I still have to ask for verbal confirmation and explanation of any nonverbal cues that I think were used by my conversational partner, but do not know what they mean. Which is pretty much all of them. And I probably miss a lot of them existing at all. You can scream "just practice until you can recognize the other persons little cues on if they want to deepen or end this" until you turn blue but it will not actually make me accomplish it if the fucking people who've been spending their whole life teaching it didnt make me figure it out. On account of, you know, the developmental delay.

Sure some people can learn! That's why they try to teach us after all! Cause it has been successful! But generally stop with this shit of "everyone can learn this you're just choosing not to!"

I will never be rude to someone for engaging in small talk, I will obviously fail at their attempts to engage me in some, which usually makes them stop trying (thank god). But I will not tolerate others talking shit about it that is uncalled for (implying malice from every user, making fun of people who seem to crave it, ...).

But I also do not care to learn it anymore at this point? It's no goal of mine. I have made multiple friends, most non autistic, without ever using small talk. Including in adulthood. We simply skipped that stage. We went from "hi!" "Hi!" Immediately to "heres when it went wrong in my life (humorous but still often dark / personal). Also these are my political opinions. Sure I want to hear about the girl you dated for years in excruciating detail. Let me retell you the plot of this old indie movie you will never watch for 20 minutes and why I enjoy it. Let's go to a concert together after talking slightly in depth like this twice". Is this the way that you creep everyone out in everyone's friendship acquisition theory I've been seeing? Sure! It's been working perfectly fine, enough of the times for me, though.

Will this work in like a work environment or something? Most likely not, which is why I generally plan to keep to myself. Does this mean I still confuse every stranger who approaches me trying to small talk? Sure. that's why I'm still fucking disabled. But I have created meaningful relationships as an adult without small talk. I have genuinely tried learning in many ways and failed. And I'm done apologizing for that, either you take me with my inability to small talk or you wont.