#BUT ALSO it happens so often it straight up feels like it's intentional

[cathodic-clairvoyant]

Oh hi there transfem discussing her experience in the trans community i just had a quick question about your post

What does tme mean?

Oh okay i see i understand, thank you.

What does transmisogyny mean?

Ah I see, I get it.

What's a trans woman?

Oof scary. One last question.

What's a woman?

Thank you for being my own personal google (not like you had anything better to do right?) and derailing the point of your post for my own personal education. I will now add nothing of value to this post in return. Bye bye!

[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[twinkling-moonlillie]

Hawks Headcanons

A/N: I am currently obsessed with Hawks (if you couldn't tell) and writing for him is fun. I made these headcanons while procrastinating on my midterm paper a few days ago-

Warnings: Some NSFW content; MDNI. Some angst too

Starting things off with an angsty bang, Hawks has a bad habit of plucking his feathers when he is stressed out. It’s never too often and it’s never to a critical extent, but it does occur. Birds often do this as a form of coping with negative feelings, so perhaps he does this after a brutal mission. 

Like many other people, I firmly believe that Keigo has a thing for shiny or interesting looking objects. Again, it’s not to an obsessive extent, but he does have a good eye for pretty trinkets. Especially ones he thinks will look good on you. 

I don’t think Hawks is a good cook. There, I said it. This man barely has time for himself, do you really think he has time to devote to cooking? Do you really think that the Commission taught him to cook? Fuck no. He sticks to quick take out purely out of necessity. 

They say that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and this is absolutely true with Keigo. He would love the little lunches and dinners you make for him while he is at work! He gobbles it up like a turkey. He swears that your food is the best thing he has ever had; he literally moans when the aroma hits his nostrils. 

I forget which fic I read this from (I will link if I find it), but I adore the headcanon of Hawk’s taking rut suppressant pills. I just think it makes so much sense since it aligns with his work-centric life and his lack of a wife (we aren’t talking about when you are married to him, obviously). They are probably similar to birth control pills where they stop the rut from happening 5% of the time. 

Even without his rut happening, Keigo still has a huge breeding kink. Can you blame him though? He just thinks that you'll look gorgeous with his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. 

*whispers* he also has the equipment to match

He has definitely accidentally run into a window from imagining you with a cute lil baby bump. 

He can get a little whiny and needy about wanting to devour your pussy. He will straight up beg you on his hands and knees. Please say yes to him. 

The songs Angel with a Shotgun and Mr Blue Sky fit him so well. Fight me on this. 

Also the song Hey Look Ma, I made it

I just imagine happy birb listening to Mr. Blue Sky after meeting you.

Intentional or not, his wings flap and rustle during sex. 

On the topic of his wings, I don’t think they are as sensitive as we all wish they were. It’s not like he’s gonna start moaning and whimpering when random fans touch his wings (he canonical doesn’t) HOWEVER, it does feel nice when you massage and gently comb your fingertips through them. I’m thinking that it’s similar to hair?? Or maybe his wings are ticklish?? But only in the right context?? 

You are the only person he really trusts to take care of his wings

Keigo loves holding you in his arms and taking you on night flights. The stars always seem brighter when they are reflected in your eyes (at least, Keigo thinks so…). You even have your own set of aviator goggles to wear during these dates.

One of his favorite things is when he DOESN’T have morning patrol and can snuggle you until at least 10 in the morning. Although it may be longer because his sleep debt is so huge. There is just something so satisfying and peaceful with having you close enough to hear your heartbeat. 

His biggest dream is being able to have a family with you in a quaint little house. His life, your life…they aren’t constantly in danger and he can sleep in with you, make you breakfast (it’s only a little burnt), wrap his wings around you. 

Keigo is extremely possessive of, not only you, but the life you created together. He is very sensitive towards things that threaten the small slice of normalcy he has, eliciting a sense of hypervigilance and territorialism. 

His mental state isn’t the best from the culmination of trauma he experiences, leading him to commit psychic cannibalism on himself. He represses all of these negative feelings in order to perform to the best of his ability and be the good lap dog for the Hero Commission. 

Needs therapy.

It’s established that he has some form of echolocation through his feathers. So…hear me out…just to make sure you are safe 24/7, Keigo gives you one of his smaller feathers. I’m not going to rant because I might make this into a small oneshot/drabble later

[iceunhie]

JEALOUSY IS A FICKLE THING...

ft. al-haitham, ayato, wriothesley, lyney

warnings : gender neutral, jealousy, mentions of suggestive content on wriothesley's part, established relationship, you are wriothesley's spouse. erm slight dark content but it's okay it isn't implied, we need more men like them in the world

mhie's notes : i used the wheel randomizer for this i hope everyone's proud i write for anyone other than scara ijbol

al-haitham’s jealousy is muted; quiet and hardly noticeable, often non-existent unless you have the fortune of knowing him deeply enough (kaveh). make no mistake, al-haitham trusts you, he simply doesn’t trust those that make moves on you when he was clearly right there. when some bothersome person disrupts you both on a simple date, which is already a clear red warning sign, for the acting grand sage hardly has any time to spare; naturally, his reaction would be to put a complete stop to any and all the flirty remarks towards you with a flat tone.

it’s not the content of the words that make the person making a move on you leave, but the slight menacing edge to al-haitham’s voice, a sign that if they do intend to cross the line more than necessary, he won’t just be using his words.

most would back off after a simple talking-to, but in the case that person doesn’t cease their advance, you can best bet your lover is steering you away immediately. dendro archon forbid they touch you or make you uncomfortable in the slightest, though, or else al-haitham has no qualms contacting the matra or taking matters in his own hands, but this scenario hardly happens often, given his seamless ability to get to the heart of the conflict and uprooting it so that no problems arise.

he’d most likely opt to diffuse the situation by straight-up telling any admirer of yours that you were taken and most definitely not up for grabs.

“they are my lover. since you’re clearly crossing their preferred boundaries and seem ignorant of the fact, i’d advise you to stop making them feel any more uncomfortable.”

though it’s truly difficult to get al-haitham jealous due to the excellent control of his emotions, tempered by his rational thinking, the most you can see of it is how he seems to stay closer to you than usual and the simple but firm link of your fingers as you both continue on your days.

(but if you notice him putting a subtle hand on your waist as you both walk, do try not to comment on it, will you?)

for ayato… er, why have you even bothered? if one even has the nerve to flirt and court the yashiro commissioner’s own partner, then that’d make you either not inazuman, or simply an idiot. it’s no exaggeration, but a simple fact. ayato is by no means a jealous man, but he doesn’t like seeing those not worthy of you hover around you with such impure and unwelcome intentions, so he tells ayaka and thoma, but really, he just wants to call the shuumatsuban on any who dares to even look at you the wrong way.

he bides his time well, approaching your admirer with a genial smile and elegant composure and indulges in small talk, but there’s a chill in the air and the looming feeling of doom as well as his smile that seems to see through any and all actions. its terrifying, really.

it also doesn’t help that he’d be extremely touchy in these moments, seeking to link arms with you and yes, even going as far as to rest his head on your shoulder, a clear indication of exactly how close you two really are. after you introduce him as your lover, at this point, it’s likely that the person making a move on you would back off and run away immediately, for how could they even dare to compete when it’s the yashiro commissioner himself who they’re facing?

he’d gloat silently afterwards in the comfort of his own quarters though, the sight of your admirer cowering like a dog getting cornered by a wolf, ah, truly satisfying. though thoma would eventually tell him to tone down the ‘borderline evil chuckling.’

“my love, have you been well? hm? the change of topic? ah, well, as the saying goes; ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ yes? no need to think about those that’ll only bother you. now, come here, there’s a new hotpot ingredient i’d like you to try… haha, relax, it isn’t dango this time.”

another one with a terrifying reputation and terrifying influence to make even the most daring of your admirers quake in their boots. wriothesley is amused - he gets that there’s hardly any window for romance in such a dreary place like the fortress, but even going as far as to court the duke of meropide’s own spouse? really funny, honestly.

but after the initial wave of amusement, he does take this time to immediately show off his status as your husband, showing off the matching wedding rings and even having the well-deserved nerve to smile and continue on rambling about your marriage, which is clearly a very happy one, judging by the way he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek while maintaining clear eye contact towards the person.

you’d have to wrangle in your husband when you both sleep tonight though, because wriothesley has made it his personal mission for any and all those who wish to covet you to show them that you were his spouse, and no other held your heart or your affections. when morning rises the next day, you promptly leave with a very visible bruise on your neck, and an especially relaxed and happy duke at your heels. most would look away in embarrassment, including your admirers, so that’s that.

“hah, that'll show any of those who have way too much time on their hands to lay their hands off my spouse. what? too brutal? well, sweetheart, what did you expect?”

oh my god lyney. haiz this enigmatic magician… magicians are all about masterfully weaving lies and illusions in order to perform to the top standard, and it's no surprise lyney also uses such methods when dealing with any and all annoyances in your relationship. he can be perfectly fine on the outside, but he has always been good with keeping his more sinister and less than socially acceptable side in check.

in fact, chances are he’d probably charm away your admirer with his own tricks; a wink their way and honeyed suave words to ease their love-struck heart and in seconds your admirer is up and away, promising to leave.

this often gets you disgruntled and in awe of his ‘performance,’ but lyney will always stave off your complaints or questions with a rainbow rose or some other fancy trick of his up his sleeve and guide you away, person courting you forgotten. all according to plan….

in all honesty, lyney isn't as composed about it as he seems. lynette can see it at a glance after you two have separated after the encounter. it shows in the way he broods silently for some time, preferring to divert the attention of such a sore subject away and going about endlessly about what new gifts he might give you or what seat was best for viewing, read: what seat was closest to him, for that matter. her brother was truly such a pain in the neck, and lynette does thank you for making him happy, but really, at this rate, you'd drive him insane by how much sway you hold over him.

“and just a trick of the light here and-! ta-da! a rainbow rose, symbolizing just how much i do adore you, way more than any other! …so don't try to pay attention to them, okay? after all, you've already caught this magician’s eye and heart~”

he can still be pouty and extremely clingy after the encounter though, which carries on whenever he performs any of his shows, where lyney always, always makes one of his acts feature you, be it a simple guess your card trick or his favorite, the one act where he leads you to land up on stage and give him a kiss based on the card’s instructions, it's all to show just how wrong anyone else other than him would make you as elated as lyney does.

@ MHIIEEE 2023 : do not copy, repost or plagiarize my work.

btw can you tell i had fun writing for al-haitham despite the fact that i have never even been remotely interested in him in the entirety of the game

[rey-jake-therapist]

Sauron, Galadriel and touch

Each time we see Sauron hug someone, touch their arms or their hair, put his arms around their shoulders etc. it's never gratuitous. He always has an agenda. He does that to manipulate them in a way or another, or to steal them something. He isn't a touchy type of guy, really.. I think he probably dislikes it, most of the time.

In Elendil's case, he probably didn't just pickpocket him but used some magic trick as well, because there's no way Elendil wouldn't have noticed. Not to mention that the dagger literally disappeared from Halbrand's hands up until he gave it back to Galadriel. Anyway, he still hugged Elendil to distract him from what was happening. There was not a bit of sincerity in that move.

Later, he put his hand on the smith's shoulder in an attempt to convince him to take him at his service. It was meant to be a reassuring gesture : "trust me bro, I'm the best !"

In this case, it was slightly different :

Sauron did that to steal Tamar's guild crest, so the intention was similar to when he hugged Elendil. But this time, he didn't do it discreetly. We know now that even as Halbrand (so not in full possession of the powers he had as Annatar), he was able to make his blood look red; so he could have easily projected the image of the guild's crest on Tamar's tunique, to make him think it was still there.

But see, Tamar offended him. He recalled him that Galadriel would probably never want him (though not because he was a "low man", but because he was the very evil she sought to destroy), and Sauron didn't like that. So what he did was provoking Tamar by stealing his crest in plain sight, so Tamar would follow him and give him the excuse he waited for, to do that :

We can also count that as touching, I guess ? But tell me again that Sauron wasn't interested in Galadriel romantically... It makes total sense for him to lose his shit because some man implied he wasn't good enough for her, right...

(I'll later write another meta about the few times that Sauron loses control. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's hot terrifying).

In season 2, I think we saw him touch Mirdania twice, and maybe once for Celebrimbor ? Though I can't find a gif of Sauron touching him except when he grabbed him at the end, so I'm not sure about that.

I've already discussed several times, including today, how Mirdania was a stand-in for Galadriel, so I won't go back to that here. Sauron doesn't feel any affection for Mirdania: wether he touches her hair and hand to manipulate her, or because she reminds him of Galadriel, or most likely, for both, it is, again, not gratuitous and not genuine.

And as for being touched... Oh boy, he doesn't like that at all. His reaction is most of the time him pulling a disgusted "how dare you touching me, you miserable worm ?" face.

This scene in particular was hilarious in this regard. He was very upset by Celebrimbor's refusal to forge rings for men, and Celebrimbor unwillingly added to the offence by giving him a condescending pat on the arm. Sauron probably had a hard time refraining the urge to murder Celebrimbor on the spot, here.

The Galadriel Case

Her case is special, as usual. Until episode 8, Sauron never touches her without her consent : after they arrive in Numenor, he invites it, but doesn't force it on her. it's supposed to be a "friendly" handshake symbolizing peace and a mean to give her Finrod's dagger back, but, well, hmm...

It's just straight out flirting. The way he looks straight into her eyes while pulling her to him, his weird conception of personal space... I can't NOT tag @apoloadonisandnarcissus 's thread about the Freudian symbolism in Haladriel interactions... It's worth reading. There was nothing friendly/platonic in his behavior, but, again... no unnecessary touching here.

Galadriel remains equally guarded towards him, even after she spends time with him and considers him as a "friend". As Sauron in episode 3, she only invites it, on the boat that takes them to the Southlands.

Even when she gives him back his pouch, in the forge, she does it in a way that her fingers barely touch his.

When she finds him wounded, she touches him where he's wounded, to check how serious it is. She could take his hand to comfort him, but.... Nope.

And yet, she's not usually that guarded with her friends, those with whom she shares a (truly) platonic relationship with, as we can see with Elrond and Arondir.

It's definitely not because she doesn't trust Halbrand/Sauron. She does, or she wouldn't be that heartbroken over him in season 2. No, I think she keeps him at arm's length because what she feels for him is not platonic at all, and she wants to keep her feelings in check. Keeping her distance with him (physically) is the way for her to do that, or so she thinks.

Now, back to Sauron. While during all season 1 he was never touchy with Galadriel, in episode 8, he suddenly is.

Not only that but he's also very flirtatious, like... more than usual.

Galadriel seems surprised with this unsolicited touching, and iffy, because she doesn't trust him anymore. She has just asked one of her fellow Elves to look in the catacombs of Eregion for everything they had about the Southlands and their royal lineage; after she heard Celebrimbor talk about "power over flesh" and seen Sauron enthusiastically offer his aid to the smith, she starts suspecting that Halbrand may be not who he claims to be.

Coincidence ? I think not. Even if she remained discreet, Sauron probably felt that something was off. He's very observant, and he knows her mind. If she changed of attitude with him, if she seemed even a little bit wary of him, there's no doubt he noticed it.

He certainly planned to tell her the truth about him very soon, at that point, but he also wants the rings to be forged so he could show her what they'd do with them. So this, imho, is Sauron buying time. He knows she's attracted to him, he may even know she's in love with him... I think he's trying to breach her defenses, here.

Did he succeed, even for the few weeks that separated this scene from the Sauron revelation ? That, we don't know. I'd say probably not, because just before the Elf brought her the records she asked for, she doesn't look like someone who trusts him again.

But then she's still in denial about him even after he admits he isn't the king of the Southlands, going as far as claiming he convinced Miriel to go help the Southlands, while it was her idea entirely... So who knows what happened during these three weeks. It's also possible she didn't suspect him to be Sauron, of all people. And anyways, she loves him. She definitely hoped till he revealed himself that he had a good explanation for everything.

Yesterday I published this post very late, and it's only this morning that I realized I omitted to mention a couple of other very important touches... Stupid me.

How could I forget the chin grab ?

We're in full "unsolicited touching" territory here. Personal boundaries be damned ! The chin grab has several connotations here : it's coded as romantic, but it's also an act of dominance and control, though there's no brutality at all in his gesture. Sauron wants Galadriel to look at him, aka to face the truth : he's still the man she loves, but he's also the monster she hates. They both coexist, in him, hence why the claims that "Halbrand never existed" or "Galadriel loved Halbrand but doesn't love Sauron" are both nonsenses and a complete misunderstanding of the season 1 finals. Galadriel knows who he is in this scene, and yet she's tempted.

The act of grabbing the chin is in itself controlling/dominating, but there's also tenderness : he's gentle, he caresses her cheek almost shyly; he wants her trust for Halbrand back, not her fear of Sauron. He wants to show her that she's loved, but you can feel that if she asked him to take his hand off her, he would back off.

Finally, this post ends with Sauron taking Galadriel's hands into his, with her holding Finrod's dagger.

You know, what he did with Morgoth's crown in season 2, binding her to him through a forced blood oath ? He wanted to do almost exactly that in season 1 already, and that's what this scene implies. Except in this scenario, Galadriel would have been ok with it: it would haven't been a metaphorical rape, but the closest to a consensual sex scene we'd have gotten in this show, if they had followed this route.

I'm not saying I wanted this, just to be clear: Galadriel was tempted to join Sauron in this scene, but it would have been a major breach to the LOTR lore if she had. "Touching the darkness", in Finrod's and Galadriel's minds, was never about embracing it wholeheartedly. It was precisely where Galadriel and Sauron's visions diverge. She knows it will never be the way. She knows she'd end up being a tyrant if she succombed to the temptation, and that's why she rejected it, and Sauron with it.

[loud-mouth-loser]

not him - 2

summary: marc has had his eye on you for a while now. he's seen your interactions with steven and has held himself back from taking you for himself, but what happens after he finally makes a move?

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: more angst

cw: pining (really intense pining), jealousy, miscommunication, mentions of past kiss.

wc: 2.7k

part one

[author's note is at the end of the chapter to avoid chapter spoilers!]

---

Marc’s POV

It’s your laugh, that soothing, sweet sound – so inviting that he wants it to soak right into his skin. When he hears it, he holds it close to him, making sure he doesn’t miss a single note. Letting it replay in his head until the next time he sees you. 

Marc has never considered himself a funny guy – or hadn’t for a while. He never had a reason to joke around, a reason to smile or laugh, but then there was you.

So now he tries his best to incite that laughter, if only for a mere taste of your sweetness.

He’s equally addicted to that view. The sight of soft lips parting into a bright smile, your shoulders shaking with each stilted breath, your eyes glistening with unerupted joy; a bliss that he’s craved to know since the day his brother passed. And it’s genuine. 

Everything about you is genuine. 

Then, when you come down from the laughter, you look up at him with a ghost of a giggle still thrumming in the air, still tugging at the corner of your mouth. He can’t help but stare back, wishing this moment could last forever. 

It’s just you and him, nursing sweating bottles of beer on his ratty old couch, the TV running quietly in the background as you unconsciously lean closer as the night progresses. He plunges into that gaze wrapped in innocent moments and admiration, a look that whispers unspoken sentiments and unattainable promises. 

You are looking at him, yes, but you also see him. 

He feels it wrap around him, a warmth that reminds him he’s worth being around, that you want to be there with him. It sparks a revelation within himself that if he could make you laugh, or even look at him the way you do, maybe…being him is ok. 

And maybe he wants to stay.   

But then there’s that smile – no, not your usual amused grin or the bashful one he attempts to lure out whenever he gains enough confidence to tell you how pretty you look – the cherry-red lie that’s specially curated for Steven. 

It’s a mask you use to preserve your friendship, to convince the oblivious man that you’re happy for him even when your side of the bond is crumbling, struggling to stand up straight. 

The first time Marc saw that smile was from the reflection in his apartment. 

He usually doesn’t stir or interfere while Steven is fronting, unless there’s an emergency of course, but there was a pang of energy that woke him up. And now he’s wondering if it was you. 

He watched broodily from the fish tank; jaw clenched tight as Steven sat in front of you holding your hands in his. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he can’t help the ire burning low in his chest as he watches you position yourself closer to Steven, eager to hear what he has to say. 

Marc’s eyes drift from your hopeful face to your joined hands. 

He wonders how that feels: to hold your smaller hands in his, to squeeze them just so as to remind him that you’re real and there with him, to feel you squeeze back and run the soft pads of your fingers over his callouses. 

Your softness smoothing over his jagged ends. 

You like it – the touch. Steven’s touch.

He can see it. 

But you’ve always liked it when Steven gives you physical affection, even if it was all platonic. You’d lean into him, practically craving it, eagerly presenting yourself to his hand. And he’d give it to you, merely enjoying the closeness you offer him – nothing more. 

Your eyes are wide, and you lean in, listening intently, but at the same time, you’re not hearing a thing. Marc can see that you’re lost in Steven, a feeling he’s often had around you. 

The giddy comfort you felt from his touch instantly dissolves as he continues to speak, “And we kissed…” You lean back from him, quickly covering your reaction with a blank expression. Marc can see right through it. 

Needless to say, Marc also isn’t too happy hearing about Steven’s escapades with his estranged wife; He’s always been protective of Layla, but now more than ever. Layla had once been his rock, keeping him grounded as life attempted to sweep him away. She was the only person he trusted for a while, the only one he could lean on and hold whenever he wanted to give up. 

Because of that, he left. 

Too much of a great thing can only lead to a horrible ending. 

Right?

He convinced himself he did it because he didn’t want her to get involved in his life of violence, of his life as an avatar. She was always getting dragged into business that wasn’t hers, used as bait to lure him out of the shadows, and Khonshu was starting to hint at making her his next avatar. 

That is a reason, a sound reason, but he can admit now that that wasn’t the main reason. At some point, Marc realized could never love her the way she wanted him to.

When he first felt it, he couldn’t shake it. He was forced to face it until it utterly consumed his thoughts, until he could taste it hanging from each word, turning every whisper into a sour void. He felt unworthy of her affections and ashamed that he continued to take and take, drinking in every last drop of warmth she could supply. Anything to numb that looming darkness that threatens to drag him under the bloody viscous waves of his past. 

And all he could give in return was surface-level words and cool kisses. Guilt dripped from his embrace and soaked against her soft skin, and he knew he had to pull away. 

Steven, the lovesick puppy, was completely oblivious to what he was inviting her back into: danger, violence, and an unspoken truth.

Marc should be jealous that his wife and alter are continuing to fraternize behind his back, or angry that Steven went against his wishes and welcomed her back into his life, but he’s not. Mostly, he’s nervous to face what he wasn’t strong enough to do, scared that he’ll continue to push it away until it swallows him whole. 

Then there’s you.

Your eyes are glassy and empty as you nod robotically as Steven rambles, lost in his own words. “...the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.” Your hands attempt to retreat from his and Steven doesn’t notice, but he does. 

The audacity of Steven to talk about this stuff to your face astounds him. How can a man who shares his body be so clueless? So stupid to not see what’s right in front of him, offering herself for any ounce of attention he shows.

“I love her.” 

And there he sees your heart shatter. 

“That’s great, Steven. I’m so happy for you.”

—

All he can do is stare back, eyes taking in your swollen lips and wrinkled clothes. Your bodies breathe together, catching a breath as you process what just happened. There’s a voice in the back of his head urging him to pull you back in, to drink the ambrosia of your lips until you melt against him and beg for more, while he still has the chance. But he knows that if he were to move the spell would be broken.

And he was right.

When the stare breaks so does the moment. You clumsily slip off of his lap and sit back on your side of the couch. His hand hovers over your figure as you move away from him, a ghost of the touch he once had on you, desperate to stop you from leaving him. Fingers grip painfully into his palms as they curl into a fist of frustration and loss.

You both sit there for a second. It’s easier to think when your bodies are pressed against each other. When you aren’t tempted to lean in for one more kiss.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to get this far. 

Ever since meeting you, he’s tried his best to keep his distance, to watch you pine for Steven from afar as he harbored his own longing for you. Marc never believed he deserved it, you, always taking three steps back before he could touch a perfect thing. Before he could ruin what was already breaking. 

He’s supposed to be detached from real life, from anything outside of his work. He’s convinced himself that he was okay with letting you go, even promising Steven he would give him complete control of the body once he was done with Khonshu. But now he doesn’t think he can. He can’t leave you.

Marc finally builds the courage to look over at you. 

Your eyes are closed, not squeezed shut, just closed. The soft glow of the TV pools over your body. You could probably feel his eyes on you so you begin to talk. 

“I’m confused.”

“Confused.” He repeats with a soft nod, letting the word settle in his mind.

He doesn’t know what else to say. Of course, you’re confused, this whole night has been a series of bold actions and heated words. One second you’re having a pity party at your crush’s flat and the next you’re crawling on top of his alter. You still haven’t had time to really go through your emotions.

“You like me…” You finally look at him, brows furrowed as you navigate through your thoughts.

“I do.”

“And I like Steven…” He frowns at that but nods. You both know it, that’s how you ended up here in the first place. “..And Steven likes Layla, but you’re still…married?”

He sighs, “It’s been over for months, sweetheart.”

“Well, aren’t we a group of lovers?” You joke. 

Neither one of you laughs.

Deep brown eyes meet yours, “I meant what I said. Steven is blind if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

“I-I don’t know where to go from here.”

He places his hand on top of yours. And you let him. 

“Stay…” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, didn’t mean to say anything at all, but when he’s with you, he feels out of control. 

He sees the little furrow of your brows as you digest the implications of his suggestion. Stay and forget about the consequences. Stay and pretend it's just us. Stay and let me love you.  

“Marc –” 

He interrupts you before you can finish your thought. 

“For tonight.” He just isn’t sure he’d be able to take what you were about to say. If you could stay like this, even for one more night, just you and him and the memory of that embrace, he thinks, maybe he’ll be okay. Even if you leave him in the morning. Even if you run away from what could have been. “It’ll be easier to understand after a night of rest.” 

You stare solemnly at the edge of the couch, “Yeah.” For a moment he holds some hope that he’ll be able to hold you tonight and sleep like everything is right in the world. But then you gently slip your hand out from under his. “I should probably go though.” His palm burns. You push yourself off the couch in search of your discarded jacket and shoes.

“You can crash here,” He feels desperate. You’re slipping from his hands and he’s frantically grasping at the evading warmth. “It’s late and there’s more than enough space in this flat.” He wants to reach out again but he’s afraid you’ll reject his touch this time.

“Steven has work tomorrow morning.” You say sheepishly as you slip an arm into your jacket. Of course, you’d know Steven’s schedule. “He needs to wake up early…and it would be awkward to find me on the couch.” As if he’d let you sleep anywhere but in his arms.

“Ok, but I should walk you home.”

You tug at the bottom of your coat, flattening it onto your body. “It’s fine,” You look back at him, hovering by the door, “Really, I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss how you’ve switched from talking about the situation to yourself.

He murmurs your name, not knowing what he can say to make you stay.

“Marc.” You echo back, voice soft and – tired. “I guess I’ll see you later.” 

—

“Whot was that?”

Steven didn’t wake up for work the next day. In fact, he didn’t ‘wake up’ at all. Marc did. He woke up around 1 pm with a throbbing headache and a loud, berating British man yelling at him from the inside out. 

After you left, he sat there in silence and moped, hoping you’d stop in the middle of your commute home and realize you wanted to come back to him. You didn’t. Once he received the ‘got home safe.’ text from you, he decided to drink whatever was left in the fridge before passing out. He’s regretting it now.

“Steven, please.” He presses a hand over his forehead, trying to soothe the ache as he blearily stares at the mess of empty bottles from last night. “Not right now.”

“Not right now?! You snogged my best friend!”

“Oh, come on.” Marc tugs on a shirt before making his way to the bathroom. In the small cheap mirror, Steven stares right back at him, a disgruntled glare burning right into his skin, “You weren’t going to do it.” That makes him blush. 

“If–If I had known…”

Marc tries to ignore him, splashing some cool water on his face to wake himself up. How can Steven even complain about it when – “Wait – how did you even find out?”

“I saw her…” He says uneasily, “pulling away.”

Marc groans into the towel as he dries off, “You were there? How much did you see?” 

“It’s not like I planned for it! I’m not a perve or anything, I was just…pushed to the front all of a sudden!” Shit, he must’ve gotten too excited. “I tried to leave as soon as I got there.”

“For the record, I wasn’t planning on any of that happening either.” 

“Why would you do it then? You’re going to confuse her.”

“Confuse her? Steven,” He shakes his head, “She’s obviously in love with you and you still wave whatever weird relationship you have with my wife in her face.”

“Well, hold on a minute–”

“Go back to sleep, Steven.” Marc walks over to the couch, longingly staring at the spot he was in last night. “I gotta clean up.”

–

Your POV

Your hands nervously fiddle with your phone, opening, closing, and reopening your messaging app. You stare at the text you sent last night:

‘got home safe.’

You actually got home 15 minutes before sending the text, but he doesn’t need to know it took you that long to type out 3 words. It’s crazy, you tell yourself, how many texts you drafted, edited, and deleted before hitting send. What if he doesn’t want to hear from you again? What if Steven gets it instead of him? What if he thinks you’re being clingy just because you shared one kiss? One, blissful, enamoring, show-stopping, kiss?

He hasn’t answered it yet. 

Read 1:56 am

Which is fine. You’re fine. It’s only 3 pm and Steven is probably still at work, so he hasn’t had a chance to text you back. It’s fine.

You hate the way your heart skips a beat when a typing bubble comes up. Fuck, did he see your pathetic attempts to text him earlier? You quickly exit the app, not wanting to expose yourself if he sends the text and you immediately ‘read’ it. The phone vibrates abruptly in your hand as a banner drops from the top of your screen.

‘Hey 🤠! –’ Already from the emoji use you can tell it’s Steven, ‘–Wanna meet up for tea ~4:30? Let’s go t…’

You let out a sigh. You know you shouldn’t feel disappointed. Steven is your best friend and you love hanging out with him, but there’s this anticipating giddiness when you think about Marc. The feeling you used to have about Steven…

It’s crazy how one kiss can flip your life so completely. Not just that, but how fast you went from mourning the chance of one relationship to melting into the development of another.

You open up the conversation. You really should talk to him. 

‘okay 🫡 i’ll meet you there'

---

a/n: sorry this took so long (literal months). i had half of this written for a while and was so sure i'd get it done within a few weeks, but then I let it sit in my drive until I picked it up TODAY and finished it lmao.

so most of this chapter delves into marc's thoughts before and during what happened in the first part, some of steven's thoughts + the aftermath of the kiss. i know a lot of ppl wanted a confrontation between the reader and steven, but I didn't want to rush into it when we don't even know how marc really feels ab the reader :3

i thought it would be interesting if steven found out about the kiss through marc (and I also didn't know how to write out the reader admitting it to him) bc that's how marc found out ab steven breaking the readers heart. i also wanted to explore how the reader is grappling with her feelings towards the two guys!

i def want to write more, but I can't promise when the next part will be out. I'm a notoriously inconsistent and SLOW writer, so bare with me. thank you for all the support on my angsty journey and I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

[skelesunderthetale]

First kiss? How? 💕

Sans (Undertale) Sans wouldn't be the one making the first move, that's for sure. You'd have to be the one initiating or at least give him a sign that you would want to try out kissing. He's a bit romantic without even trying, so it'd be after a dinner date. It didn't need to be classy, you like him for his simplicity. If it had been a while since you guys were together, you would've been thinking about it for a while and would feel a bit relieved. But if it hasn't been a while, he would be surprised by your boldness. It'd be a soft smooch on the mouth. Red (Underfell) More straight forward, and it would happen not long after meeting if there was immediate flirting. If it's more of a slow burn, it would happen a short bit after getting together for real. After that, he's definitely not letting you go, he's very clingy sometimes and probably more than you. Probably annoying about it too, but tells you he's just teasing with a smirk on his face (he's not, he's hurt if you reject him). Blue (Underswap) Romance lord. Literally thinks it's wrong to kiss before dating, only hand holding allowed. If you meet him at a party or a bar, try to flirt and things go hot too quickly, he'll be the one to reject you. If you're his type (probably, I mean he doesn't have very high standards), he'll ask you out for a date the week after, he's a very busy skeleman! If you think you can kiss him after the first date, well... you guys aren't really there yet. He's very patient about it, and should be too if you want him that bad. After all this courtship, you find out he was worth the wait. Dream (Dreamtale) Another one that you'll need to make the first move for. It's not that he's shy, but that he feels like it's not his thing to do stuff like that. Add a bit of hyperselfconsciousness and awkwardness, and you have him when it comes to physical intimacy and romantic feelings. He can feel if you have good intentions or not, and if your heart is pure enough something between you two COULD happen. You also need his trust, and have to convince him that he can let himself loose more often. Nightmare (Dreamtale) Just like Dream, it's not that he's shy. For him it's because he just really hates it. If you want a chance at it, you have to take him by surprise, which isn't easy to start with. Also, you need to have a good friendship already or a nice enough relationship if you don't want him to rip you apart (and not in any of the possible good ways, I promise you). He's not gonna just blush and look away like in a cute comic, he's not a tsundere or whatever, Nightmare will stare into your soul until you apologise. Good luck guys! Ink (___tale) Ink thinks it's just a fun thing, if he knows you enough. Ask him and he'd probably do it, not directly on the mouth though. Of course he knows the meaning, and would ask you if you realise he's not really the type of guy you should consider as a future lover, but if you're sure that there's no other feelings involved, he's fine. But like... why do that though? Is it because you're curious about how a skeleton with an actual mouth feels like? Error (Errortale) Ouch, very hard to do that in general. He's a bit more easy to fall in love with than Ink or Nightmare, but he's still not the lovey-dovey guy from your dreams, and he knows that, and it irritates him. Even if he finds interest in you, or even loves you, it's hard for him to fight his phobia and fears. You need to be patient, and let him come to you first. Killer (Something New) Another one that doesn't really wait up on things like courting or relationship stages. You like him? What the hell but damn he likes you too so let's go! He has close to no experience, and it's messy, the kiss and your face after... because his tears are definitely tainting it. He knows you're a freak anyway, so he doesn't try to avoid that. Author note: I just wanted to give something during my winter break. A lot happened since my last post. I wrote something for Dust but Tumblr doesn't like it.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

meeting him at the pub

(cw: age gap)

I don’t know how it happened, how I ended up chatting to the tall metalhead at the pub. But I was meeting my friends there like every other Wednesday and when I got drinks from the bar, a dark, friendly voice piped up. “Hey, nice shirt.” My head whips to the side, looking for the person who gave me the compliment.

Right there at the table, sitting alone, a huge, tall guy with long dark hair. Tattoos adorned the big strong arms distracting from his bandshirt, I think it’s from Dark Tranquility. The drawings span to his hands ending at the knuckles, that moved as he grabbed the bottle of beer standing right in front of him.

My eyes close in on his face, a ruggedly handsome one. A nose that seems to have been broken at least twice. Lips formed into a friendly smile. Serious eyes looking straight at me, eyes that had seen some shit, but the laugh lines around them speak of a man who rather likes to laugh. He also looks a bit older than me.

I almost stumble over my own feet, halting for a moment to look which shirt I’m wearing today. It’s my Death shirt, the one with the Symbolic Album art. I look back up at him, smiling. “Thanks!” I continue my trip to the bar, a pep in my step.

When I walk back with the drinks in my hand, I shoot another friendly look in his direction. One that he answers with a nod and tipping his beer in my direction. And I totally blush at the little friendly gesture. I sit down with my friends handing them their beers, but I can’t help my eyes finding their way back to him every so often, to see what he’s doing.

He’s just chilling alone, at his table, drinking his beer, looking at the TV where some kind of soccer game was being shown, playing with his phone from time to time. It is so fucking tiny in his huge ass hands. And half the time I look in his direction, his gaze is already on me. Which is making me nervous. Not because it’s creepy or anything in that sense, but because he’s attractive. Oh my, ruggedly handsome, seeming like a gentle giant, while the way he’s sitting and observing everything around him is telling a different story.

“Just go fucking talk to him.” My friend sitting to my right grins at me. I shrug. “I don’t know.” They roll their eyes. “Just do it, you little chickenshit.” I throw up my hands. “Fine, fine, okay.” I snatch up my beer and hesitatingly make my way to his table.

He’s already looking at me, sitting up straight, as I approach him and ask with a shy smile on my face: “Can I sit here?” I point at the stool across from him. He seems a bit surprised, but he nods. “Sure, take a seat.”

I sit down and then a moment of silence falls over us where we just look at each other. The corner of his mouth is tilted up, a half-smirk making his face even more handsome, a few strands of hair falling over his left eye and cheek. He seems a little bit tense and I suddenly feel a little bit self-conscious. We just look at each other. And I can’t stop looking at him.

“So, you like Death too, huh?”, I ask him, and then I hear how that sounded. “The band, I mean.”, I clarify laughing. He joins in, a dark manly chuckle falling from his lips, and I can see his shoulders drop down a bit. Seeming a little more relaxed.

“I do.”, he answers. “Actually, one of my favourite bands.” His voice is a bit higher than I would have anticipated from such a big guy, he has a nice timbre and some kind of accent when speaking English, that he’s trying to mask.

“Understandably so.”, I say, going on a rant about my favourite bands. He just looks at me, stunlocked. His mouth slightly open. His eyes scanning my face, dropping down every so often. I don’t stop talking and he listens, nodding along.

“I also like Lorna Shore a lot, do you know them?”, I want to know. He shakes his head, still intently listening while only speaking every so often. “They’re a symphonic deathcore band, and my god, their music just blows you away.” He chuckles again. “And they’re in town next week, but I don’t have anybody to go to the concert with me.”, I say, turning down the corners of my mouth.

“I could accompany you.”, he chimes in which shuts me up. A friendly offer. But the way he’s looking at me is making it feel like so much more.

“Really? You would do that?”, I ask surprised.

He shrugs one of his shoulders, looking to his fingers that fiddle with the label on the beer bottle. “Yeah sure, I can be your company for that evening.”

I close my mouth and think about it for a moment. “Of course, that would be… very nice of you.” Great, I’m so eloquent when it comes to flirting with men. Especially older, tall metalheads. But the way he’s still fidgeting with the beer bottle, I think he’s having a hard time as well. Which makes his offer so much more surprising. But I’m not mad at it. Not at fucking all.

I clear my throat. “Maybe I can get the tickets and you can get the drinks?”, I suggest. I wouldn’t want this to seem like I wanted to mooch off him.

He hesitates for a bit, but then nods. “Sure.” I nod as well and drink some of my beer. So that’s that, huh?

“So, what do you do? For a living?”, I ask him. He halts for a second, and I add: “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.” I tilt my head and push my cheek into my propped-up hand.

A smile forms on his lips, as he looks to the side for just a moment, but his eyes find their way back to me. “You’re a nosy one, huh?” which makes me hide my face in my hands looking at him through my splayed fingers, but he only laughs at my gesture.

“I’m actually a soldier, a mercenary. I’m currently on leave.”, he explains. My eyes widen at his words.

“Really? Damn okay.” That explains the aura around him that I couldn't pinpoint before. “So like, what’s your specialty or however this is called in the military?”, I ask, still being nosy.

His lips curl into a confident smile, his whole demeanor changing a bit. “I’m an insertion specialist.” And the way he says that makes my skin tingle, my jaw dropping down a bit. Because the tone in his voice makes me think about a certain kind of insertion. The ‘drop your clothes, get naked together’-kind.

He laughs again as he sees the expression on my face. “Get your mind out the gutter.”, he jokes.

“Huh, I didn’t say anything.”, I defend myself, weakly, holding up my hands in defense. He pulls up his eyebrows, donning a knowing smile and leaning back.

“M-hm.”, he says and his fingers wander to his lips, stroking over them absent-mindedly. “I specialize in breaking down doors and getting people out of whatever situation they’re caught in.” How he says it makes me smile, because he says it so non-chalantly, but I can see the pride behind his words.

A little silence falls over us again, but instead of being uncomfortable we just sit in it and look at each other. He drags his hand through his hair, his fingers threading through the brown strands. And I’m so normal about this. My god, why does he have to be so attractive?

“How old are you?”, he asks me, his eyes searching my face like I’d have it written on there. The first question he asked me this evening.

“I’m 25. And you?”, I return the question. He winces a bit, but he answers: “I’m 41.” I nod and sip on my beer. Well, I already assumed that he’s older than me, so I’m not really surprised by the age gap.

“I’m old enough to be your dad.”, he says and takes a sip from his beer. My eyes are glued to his lips, the way the bottle rests against them. Then he swallows and I follow the motion as the liquid flows down his throat.

I arch a brow. “No, you’re not.”

He tilts his head to his side, a little smile forming on his lips. “Well, maybe if I started early, I could be.” His eyes dart to me, for just a moment.

The other brow joins the one already sitting at my hairline. “Did you start early?”, I ask him.

His smile gets wider while he slowly shakes his head. “No.” He takes another sip and leans back a bit.

“So, not actually old enough to be my dad.”, I conclude the conversation, a grin turning up the corners of my mouth. “I’m gonna get another drink, you want one as well?”

He looks at me, his eyes boring into me. I see the little twinkle in them, but he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I got to get home.”, he finally says, the expression on his face turning apologetic.

I hide my disappointment behind a charming smile. “Okay, no worries.”, I tell him.

He leans forward, coming a little bit closer, and I stand my ground, even as his scent hits my nostrils, and I have to damp down the excitement flooding my veins. He’s smirking at me now and raises his hand until his finger makes contact with my nose. He just booped my nose. “Tell you what though. Let’s exchange numbers and then we’ll see if you’re still up to going to a concert with me when you’re sober.”

I laugh a bit and pull out my phone from my pocket. “Okay, deal.” But his words also make me think. “Don’t you trust my judgement?”, I ask him as I hand him the device which looks ridiculously small in his hands.

He grins while tapping on the screen. “I do, but I don’t trust myself when I stare into the face of a beautiful woman.” He looks at me again and hands me back the phone, getting up. And he gets taller and taller and taller. I mean, I saw that he’s freaking huge when he was sitting down. But my god, he’s more than a foot taller than me. I have to put my head back to be able to look up at him.

“A beautiful woman, huh?”, I repeat his words back to him, ignoring the way this sentiment makes me feel.

“Aye.”, he says leaning down a bit. “Good night then.” He presses a small, almost chaste kiss onto the top of my head, while at the same time grabbing his leatherjacket. He puts the worn piece of clothing on and heads in the direction of the door.

I look down and see the new contact in my phone. His number, but instead of his name the little crown emoji sits on the top of the page. “Wait, what’s your name?”, I yell after him.

He turns around again, the long hair whipping over his shoulder, grazing over the worn leather. A grin lights up his face. “König, you know, like ‘king’ in German.”, he explains. He raises his hand again and waves goodbye, then he’s out the door.

He’s gone, but he’s still on my mind the rest of the evening while spending time at the pub, on my way home, as I’m getting ready to finally sleep. Especially the little forehead kiss lives in my mind rent-free.

When I wake up again in the morning, I contemplate what to do while I get myself a coffee. Finally, I gather my courage and shoot him a text.

metalhead!König has me in a chokehold, so this was veeeery self-indulgent. i hope you still like it <3more to come soon, because i can't wait to go to a concert with him :')

part 2 or more stuff in the Masterlist

[cr-aspec-fest]

CR Aspec Fest - Info & FAQs!

The Critical Role Aspec Fest is a month-long fanwork fest (with a prompt for each week) celebrating aromantic-spectrum and asexual-spectrum experiences!

Schedule and Prompts

WEEK 1 (Feb 1st-7th): Aro-spec

WEEK 2 (Feb 8th-14th): Ace-spec

WEEK 3 (Feb 15th-21st): Unconventional relationships

WEEK 4 (Feb 22nd-28th): Free week! Whatever your heart desires.

FAQs

(if something isn't answered here, please feel free to send an ask or message!)

Can I make something about a character being demisexual or demiromantic or (insert other label)? Can I make something about a character who's straight?

Absolutely - please do! Aspec is a very broad umbrella term, and this event is all about celebrating a variety of experiences that aren't well-represented in media. If it feels right to you, go for it. I'm not going to exclude any works from the fest just because they aren't relatable to me.

What types of fanworks can I make for the fest?

Anything! Be that fanfiction, fanart, meta, gifsets, edits etc. - everything is welcome! If you're writing fanfiction, you're encouraged to post to the AO3 collection here.

Which Critical Role characters can I make fanworks about?

Anyone in anything they've streamed - so the main campaigns, EXUs, Candela Obscura, Daggerheart or other oneshots!

Do I need to be aspec to join?

Definitely not, as long as you're coming in with the mindset of being respectful of our experiences. For one, I'm aromantic but not ace-spec - so making works about ace-spec experiences is naturally going to be more difficult for me, but entirely doable with a little bit of research! I think it's a great way to learn about others.

Why February? Why a whole month?

Yes, there are plenty of aspec weeks hosted in other fandoms, which are great and the inspiration for this event! But personally, I am both slow and busy, so making just one thing per week is much more achievable for me. I chose February because Aromantic Awareness Week is the week after Valentine's day, and this fest was originally going to take place during that time. I'm also unaware of any other fandom events happening in February (although please let me know otherwise, just for my own interest!). The fact that February splits so nicely into 4 whole weeks is an added bonus!

Would you like people to share around the existence of this fest?

(Okay, maybe this one's a bit of a cheat.) Yes please! Even if you don't plan on taking part, getting eyes on the existence of this event would be wonderful. This is the first fandom event I've ever hosted, and I don't have a huge platform among fic writers, who are likely the largest contingent of nerds (lovingly) who'd be interested in taking part in an event like this.

Other Rules

Please don't bash any ships or headcanons you don't like! Part of the fun of fandom is seeing the broad range of possible interpretations, and I'd always rather foster a sense of community rather than opposition.

Suggestive, NSFW and whump content is fully allowed, but must be tagged correctly for whatever platform you're posting on.

Fanworks should be focused on aspec experiences or characters, but other topics or characters can totally be included, and these experiences don't have to be super clear or well-labelled in-text (gods know that real-life experiences are often opaque and confusing) - it's your intention that matters. This is up to your discretion, really. As with the rule of thumb for AO3 tagging - if someone was viewing this for aspec content, would they be disappointed? If so, you can always rework it, or post it outside of this fest.

This account will be reblogging every fanwork made for the fest - just remember to tag us, and use the #CRAspecFest tag! If you don't have a tumblr account and want a post about your work to be included, send a message.

There'll be more posts on this account with ideas for how to approach the prompts, plus reminders at the start of each week, tagged #CRAspecFestPosts. All submission reblogs will be tagged #CRAspecFestWorks.

[xo-hoon]

an eye for an eye — p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: revenge, angst, smut, fluff

synopsis: Sunghoon nurtured a profound animosity towards his childhood friend, Lee Heeseung, blaming him for his sister's death. To Sunghoon, his sister was the only person who had genuinely loved him, making Heeseung's perceived betrayal unforgivable. This deep resentment sparked an intense desire for revenge, driving Sunghoon to extreme measures to achieve it. But to what extent would he go to find satisfaction in his vengeance against Lee Heeseung? Would his plans unfold smoothly, or would everything take an unexpected turn, throwing his schemes into something he didn’t expect.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: swearing, kidnapping (kinda), possessive hoon, mentions of death, fake marriage, depression, fist fighting, minor bleeding, hoon has detachment issues. (typographical errors)

an eye for an eye: last part - masterlist

Sunghoon woke up with the feeling of his wife’s figure laying on his chest. You really looked angelic while sleeping.

He couldn’t help but to stroke your cheek and feel the softness of your lips. He wished to see this sight every morning for the rest of his life. That way, even if it was cloudy outside, he’d always wake up with his own brand of sunshine. He wrapped you in his arms and basked in your warmth. He vowed to never let you slip away from him.

He would do everything to tie you to him forever. And for that to happen, he needed to take action.

He gave you a tender kiss on the forehead before getting up to take a shower and prepare himself for the day. Upon leaving the room, he went straight to the garden where he suspected his father was.

“Dad,” He called. From his newspaper, her father glanced up at him.

“Good morning, son. Sit down. Do you need anything?” Sunghoon sat down in front of him.

“I’m thinking of taking my wife on a belated honeymoon trip.”

His forehead creased. “Where are you planning on going?”

“Japan. I also wanted to visit Grandma and Grandpa.” They had never been close to him, but they knew your family. “I’d be grateful if your secretary could arrange everything for me and my wife.”

He folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. “Why does this seem sudden? What about the farm? I’m getting old, Sunghoon. I can’t manage everything anymore.”

“We have good people here, Dad. They are all hardworking and trustworthy. My manager could take over, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” His father fell silent for a moment, deep in thought over what he had just said. “Alright, I understand. When are you going back home?”

Sunghoon shrugged. “I don’t know. As long as possible?” His father’s lips twitched and his eyes filled with profound curiosity.

“Why do I feel like you’re planning to live there? Is there a problem, Sunghoon?”

Yes, there is. Sunghoon laughed. “Nothing, Dad. Anyway, we can’t stay there for long. I just wanted a little vacation with my wife.” He leaned back and looked at his father intently.

“Fine. But make sure to call here often. I’ll get my secretary to arrange everything. I’ll also have him come here to get both your passports.”

“Okay, Dad. Thank you.” He said and stood up after bidding farewell. Sunghoon breathed a sigh of relief. His father agreed. And hopefully, everything would go as smoothly as this.

—

You’ve noticed that your husband has been exceptionally busy these past few days. You already knew he was hard working, workaholic, even. But it’s quite different these days as if he’s constantly chasing after something. Today, he left with his father because they said they had someone to talk to.

You glanced at the oven timer, signaling that the cream cheese garlic bread you made is cooked. Once you checked and saw that they were golden brown, you grabbed the mittens to take the baking tray out.

“Wow, that looks delicious, Y/n.” Aunt Chul said as she just entered the kitchen. You smiled at her.

“I won’t be modest, Auntie. It is really delicious.” You giggled, placing the tray on the table. She chuckled.

“Really? Let me have a taste then.”

“Sure! But let’s wait for it to cool down for a bit,” You said as you removed the mittens and took the tongs to carefully transfer the bread onto the basket lined with wax paper.

“Oh! I’ll make us something to drink, Dear. What would you like?”

“I’ll have some green tea, please.” You requested.

“Sure, just a moment.” She began boiling the water and fetched the cups while you were arranging the bread in the basket, making it look presentable. Shortly after, you and the woman enjoyed the bread and tea together.

“This is so good, Dear!” Aunt Chul happily commented after the first bite. You nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it really is. I wonder who made it?”

The woman chuckled lightly. “No joke, Dear. It really is delicious. The cream cheese garlic bread I’ve had before didn’t taste like this. Sunghoon is really lucky to have someone like you, Dear. I hope you know that.” You were speechless at her words.

“I remember, Sohyun and Sunghoon used to love eating you baked good back then. They were the ones tasting and critiquing your creations.” Your smile faded as you recalled the past.

“I felt that they grew tired of tasting my breads back then. Especially Sunghoon.” You whispered softly.

“Oh, Dear! I doubt that,” The woman said with a chuckle and shook he head. “Didn’t Sunghoon always insist on tasting even the burnt ones?”

Yes, you could vividly remember that. Every batch you baked, whether perfectly made or not, Sunghoon always tasted them. He would praise them if they were delicious and cheer you on to do better next time if they weren’t. He was always there for you, ready to make you smile and feel good. He was your everything backthen. While you couldn’t do anything for him. You sighed.

“Yes, he’s a good guy…” You said softly just above whisper.

“What was that, dear?” The elderly woman asked. You glanced at her and gave a small smile.

“Nothing, Auntie.”

She took another bite of the bread and savored it like a child. “This is really delicious, Dear. I’ll miss this when you’re in Japan.”

You paused mid-bite upon hearing her words. “What? Japan?” You asked, confused.

“Yes, Japan. Didn’t Sunghoon tell you? You’re leaving tomorrow to go to Japan. Your husband has already arranged for your things to be packed,” She explained. Your jaw might have dropped at Aunt Chul’s news. Japan? Leaving? Tomorrow? You had no idea of what she was talking about. You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket.

“Heeseung…” You murmured as you saw the registered number. Quickly excusing yourself from Aunt Chul, you hurried upstairs to your room to answer the call.

“Heeseung?”

“What’s this I hear about you and Sunghoon leaving?”

He asked sternly. You paced back and forth in the room, feeling like a cat about to give birth, anxious and unsettled.

“I don’t know! Aunt Chul just mentioned it to me just now. I had no idea. Sunghoon hasn’t said anything about us leaving.”

You stopped in your tracks and pulled at your hair, feeling frustrated. What was he thinking?

“He’s freaking insane! You need to come home now, Y/n. We need to talk about this,”

He insisted.

“But—”

“If you won’t come here, I’ll come there.”

He said sharply. You took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”

You quickly left the mansion, being careful not to be seen by anyone. You also didn’t ask the driver to take you to avoid anyone from knowing where you were going. Upon arriving at your house, Heeseung form immediately greeted you. His face was serious.

“Let’s talk inside.” He said, leading the way.

—

Sunghoon and his father was greeted by Aunt Chul once they entered the mansion. “Would you like to two like to have snacks or rest first?” She asked.

“I’ll rest for a bit. I’ll come down later for dinner,” Mr. Park replied, heading up to his room.

“And you, son?” The woman turned to him. Sunghoon smiled at her.

“I’ll go rest first, Auntie.”

“Is that so? Y/n baked cream cheese garlic bread,” She added making him chuckle at her obvious teasing.

“I’ll go see her first, Auntie,” He replied.

“Oh, yes. That’s right.” She quickly agreed. “Go on, she’s in your room. She went up there after we ate earlier.” She gently nudged him.

“Hurry up now.” He chuckled at the woman’s gesture. He was near the stairs when she called him.

“I’m glad you hear your laughter again, son.” She said sincerely. He smiled back at her.

“Me too, Auntie.”

He went up to their room. However. It was dark inside, and you weren’t there. The windows were open, and the curtains swayed gently with the breeze. He wondered and checked the bathroom as well, but you weren’t there either. He went downstairs to find Aunt Chul.

“Auntie, have you seen Y/n?” He asked. She furrowed her brow.

“Isn’t she in your room?” He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, I just came from the garden, she wasn’t there either. Did you check the study? Other rooms?”

“Not yet,” He sighed. “Wait, maybe she went to her brother? Your wife had someone calling her from her phone earlier.”

Your phone? He recalled Heeseung visiting the bakery. He felt knot in his stomach. The fear he felt when he woke up and found the woman was not by his side returned.

“I’ll be out for a while,” He said and rushed to his car, got in, and drove away.

—

“I have talked to a friend who’s willing to lend us the money we need. If you’re still worried about that bastard’s check, I’ll go top the bank tomorrow and—”

“It’s not that simple, Hee,” You whispered. You were both on the sofa in your living room, having a serious conversation. You felt a chill at what your brother wanted to happen.

“What do you mean?” You sighed and looked straight at him. “Do you think Sunghoon would just agree to that?” He wasn’t able to respond. “He wouldn’t, Heeseung.”

Heeseung ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and leaned back on the sofa. “Then I think it would be better if you took some time away from him,” He suggested.

You shook your head. “I think it would only make things worse if I did that.”

“Then what do you think would work?” You couldn’t answer. None of your plans had worked. Reconciling the father and son. Gradually avoiding your husband. None of it happened.

“Look, y/n. I just want you safe. I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s why I’m doing this,” He said, holding your hand. “I’ll face Sunghoon myself. I’m the reason for all of this.”

You gave him a sad smile. “Liar.” He paused. “We both know who’s really at fault for all of this.”

He tightened his grip on your hand.“Y/n, I don’t want you thinking like that.”

You sighed. “Let me handle this, Hee. Let me leaver with Sunghoon to Japan, and there I’ll figure some things out.”

His eyes narrowed and he let go of your hand. “Are you seriously telling me that you’re really going with him?”

You looked down. “Honestly, I’m still hesitant about it. I’ll try to convince him later not to leave. But if he insists, maybe it’s better if I go with him for now.” You pleaded with him to understand. “I just can’t leave him.”

He stood up abruptly, clenching his fists.

“No.” It was a firm command. “You stay out of this. I’ll confront that piece of shit right now, and I’ll resolve this mess with him.”

“I’m here, Heeseung,” You and your brother almost simultaneously turned towards a cold and low voice. You gaped as you saw Sunghoon there.

He looked at you. “We’re going home, Y/n.” He was about to reach out to you but your brother’s large figure blocked his way as he stood up.

“Over my dead body.” You grabbed his arm.

“Hee, don’t start.”

“He was the one who started all of this!” Heeseung exclaimed. “And for what? Revenge? Only children would think of—” You gasped as Sunghoon lunged forward and delivered a punch at your brother’s face.

Heeseung slumped to the floor due to the impact. Your eyes widen as you saw Heeseung’s lip split open. You rushed to him and hurriedly wiped the blood from the corner of his lips. He stood up, his eyes glaring with retaliation for the punch he received from Sunghoon.

“Stop it!” You shouted, trying to intervene to break them up. When they didn’t budge, you raised your voice louder. “Enough!”

That seemed to snap them out of it, reminding them of your presence. Both men were panting heavily, and you could feel the tension thick in the air around them. You faced your brother. “We’re leaving. I’m going with him.”

He grabbed your arm. “No!”

“Please,” Your voice trembled in plea. Reluctantly, he let go and gave Sunghoon a sharp look. You called a helper and instructed them to bring a first aid kit. “Treat your wounds, Hee. Take care.” You hugged him.

You felt your husband tug on you. “Let’s go,” He whispered. He guided you out of the house towards his car. Heeseung didn’t follow, which you were thankful for. Upon reaching the car, Sunghoon spoke.

“Don’t try to run away from me like that.” He looked at you intently. He seemed to claim all the good looks in the world because even in dim light, he still looked godly… whit a bruised lip. You reached for his face.

“You have a bruise. Let’s hurry home so we can treat that,” You said.

He grasped your hand. “Answer me. Tell me you won’t run away from me.” His intense gaze made you feel like you were burning. You nodded slightly in response.

“Say it, damn it!”

“Sunghoon, I...” He held both sides of your face and gently forced you to meet his eyes.

“Is it really that hard? To be tied to me? To stay with me and remain by my side?” Your lips parted as you saw the desperation on Sunghoon’s face, as if his life depended on you staying.

“I promise I won’t hurt you. I won’t. I can’t”

“But you’re hurting my brother. And because of that, you’re also hurting me.” You don’t have the right to complain. You deserved the pain. But your brother?

He let go and sniffed the air. “Okay. You want me to stop hating on your brother? I can do that. I’ll do it for you.” He looked at you with a longing look. “You also said I should forgive my father? Fine, I’ll do that too.” You couldn’t speak. What was he trying to do to you? He reached out and held your palm, then clasped your hands.

“If I do all that, will you stay by my side? Will you promise not to leave me? Will you stay with me forever?”

“I realized that I was blinded by anger. Sohyun wouldn’t want me to blame the man she loved forever.” Joy enveloped your heart. It felt so good to hear your husband’s words. You never expected that he would be willing to do everything just to keep you by his side. That he’s finally ready to set his anger aside. But there’s one thing he didn’t know. And Sunghoon would hate you more if you keep it hidden from him much longer. You should have confessed earlier.

How will he believe you now? Even if you tell him that you love him…

Your eyes stung with tears. You shook your head. “No… You don’t understand.”

Sunghoon lifted your face with a finger, wiping your tear that traced a path down your cheek. “What do I not understand?” He asked, his voice soft yet urgent. “What is it, Y/n?”

You could only shake your head, your tears falling relentlessly. Sunghoon enveloped you in a warm embrace, offering you solace in the cold, dark night.

“Please, Y/n,” He murmured, his voice trembling with emotions. “Just promise me that you won’t run away. That we’ll always be together. That’s all I want to hear. Please.”

You continued to sob into his chest. Truth be told, you wanted the same thing—to be together forever, to be happy in each other’s arms. But that was impossible. It was never going to happen. You sniffled and gathered all your courage. Gently, you pushed him away from you. You shut your eyes tightly before looking straight into his eyes.

“It wasn’t my brother’s fault that Sohyun died. It was mine.” Your throat ached, and the words seemed to resist coming out. “It was only right that I pay for what I did. So it’s not fair that you blamed Heeseung for what happened…”

You saw Sunghoon’s expression change. “What are you talking about, y/n?” This isn’t your fault.”

You stood firm You knew you had to stick to the truth, no matter how painful. “It was all my idea. It was my decision that led to Sohyun’s death. I can’t let Heeseung suffer for something he didn’t do.”

A mixed of shock and confusion crossed Sunghoon’s face. “It wasn’t Heeseung’s fault that your sister is no longer with us. It was my fault. The anniversary surprise, the candle lit dinner—” You gulped, and tears streamed down your cheeks again. “Those were all my idea.” You roughly wiped away the tears, but no matter what you did, they kept falling.

“If I hadn’t suggested all that, Sohyun would still be here. You wouldn’t be left alone. Everything would be okay.” Your chest tightened as you confessed everything to him. “Sunghoon… I… I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You could barely breathe from crying, and through it all, Sunghoon just stood there in front of you. This must be it. He must be hating you now and cursing you to death. You wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly told you to rot in hell. You turned away to head back to your house. You had your answers. You didn’t need to leave because Sunghoon wouldn’t want you anywhere with him anymore.

You calmed yourself and dried the tears to see your way, but a tight hug from behind stopped you in your tracks. The embrace was so firm, you could barely breathe. You cried even harder. Sunghoon turned you around and you buried your face in his chest.

‘I’m so sorry. I never thought it would all end in an accident.”

He comforted you. “Heeseung’s surprise for my sister was your idea. That’s all it was. You and Heeseung didn’t mean her any harm. Both of you just wanted to make her happy.” You pulled away slightly and looked up at him. There wasn’t a trace of hatred on his face.

“Aren’t you going to yell at me? Sohyun died because of me.” At that, you started crying again. He sighed and tried to calm you down.

“Weren’t you listening? To be honest, ever since you came back to in to my life, my anger had gradually disappeared. I think I used what happened as an excuse to keep you by my side. I could never hate you.”

“But—” He silenced you with a kiss.

“I’m sure my sister is happy up there. I know that because I felt like she’s watching over me from there. Sohyun never wanted me to live a miserable life.” He gently stroked your hair.

“She once told me that I should stop shutting myself from the world. And when she died, it felt like my anger was the only thing keeping me alive. Until I saw you again. You were so bright that I wanted to put everything behind me. And I remembered that my sister told me I always needed to stay in the light.” He carefully caressed your cheek. After a very long time, you saw the man you loved once again.

“And you are my light, Y/n. you’re my very own brand of sunshine. The moment I saw you again, I felt alive. You complete the happy days I once had.”

If this was a dream, you wished to be a princess who had slept for a long time. And if possible, you hoped never to wake up. If this was real, why did it seem so unbelievable? You had expected a mad beast with eyes full of hate, not a handsome prince with eyes filled with love.

Oh God. Is this real?

“Yes, Y/n. This is real.” You hadn’t realized that you voiced your question out.

“But, Sunghoon. I know how much Sohyun’s death affected you. I don’t want you to hide that from me just because you promised not to hurt me. Whatever makes you feel better—”

“It’s true that my sister’s death nearly killed me. But you…” He paused, searching for the right words.

“The thought of another person I love frightened the hell out of me. If I lose you, I know I won’t be able survive.”

You embraced him tightly. “I won’t leave you.”

“Do you really accept me as your husband, Y/n? Are you ready to be with me for always? Will you love me too?” He looked deep into your eyes.

You wanted to say yes. You wanted to tell him that you already loved him. That you have loved him for a long time. Your gaze shifted towards your house, where you saw your brother watching the both of you. He nodded, as if giving you the encouragement to do what you truly wanted. Slowly, a smile spread across your face. You looked up to Sunghoon, who was gazing at you with complete love. Tears pooled in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy.

“I love you, Park Sunghoon.” You finally managed to say. “I’ve always loved you. Even when our paths separated, that love never faded. I still love you.” Sunghoon let put a breath, his eyes closing briefly.

He hugged you tight and kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me.”

You returned the warm embrace to your husband. “I still feel guilty about Sohyun,” you sighed.

“Stop it,” He scolded you gently. “She loves us, and I know she wants us to be happy. There’s nothing to worry about now, baby.” Right. Sohyun had been a kind and loving sister top Sunghoon. She treated you like a sibling too. She genuinely loved your brother. She wouldn’t want anyone of you to be sad.

Under the moonlight, you promised to love the man you promised to be with for a lifetime with all your heart. You would give him the light he needed and all the love you could offer. You would be together for an eternity. And it would start now.

“I love you so much. Y/n.” You heard him whisper. You tightened your hug on Sunghoon even more.

“I love you.”

It was supposed to be rainy afternoon according to the weather report last night. But the weather seemed to be cooperating with them because not a single dark cloud marred the sky. You wondered how it would feel to live in a world where there was no sadness and pain; where only the warmth of love and happiness enveloped you.

Then you realized that in this world, one need all those sufferings to appreciate the beauty of life. You should face your fears and endure trials to become a better person. You smiled as you looked back and saw your husband leaning against the tree where you were taking shelter.

Sunghoon is a great example of someone consumed by darkness, yet learning to return to the colorful world. Well, all of you went through some tough times, but you believed it was Sunghoon who suffered the most. You approached him, locking eyes. You sucked in your breath. He still looked dark and powerful, but that was just because of his striking physical appearance. The dark aura that used to surround him was gone.

“We need to get going, you know?” You reminded with a smile.

He held your waist and pulled you closer to him. “I know, baby. I was just doing some reminiscing.”

“Like when you tripped here while we were chasing after Sohyun and Heeseung?” you teased him. The corners of his lips lifted in to a smile.

“Very funny.” You grinned and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“So… Shall we go to Sohyun’s grave?” Before, his expression darkened whenever he remembered his sister, not it didn’t. He maintained a light demeanor. It was Sohyun’s death anniversary, and you planned to visit with your brother, Heeseung. The feud between the two men had been resolved.

“Yeah, I think we should go now. I want to catch Heeseung being dramatic.”

You wrinkled your nose. “How mean.” Sunghoon just grinned and kissed you quickly on the lips. You both started walking towards his car.

“You know what? My visits to my sister will be different now,” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“Before, whenever I would visit her, I always said I would seek revenge on those responsible for her loss.” He tightened his grip on your hand. “But today would be different because you’re with me, and Heeseung and I are okay. I used to visit her with a heavy heart, but this time, I would face her with a smile.”

“And she must be smiling back at you,” You said happily.

“I know.” Sunghoon stopped walking and looked at you with lovingly.

“Thank you. Thank you for being my light, y/n.” You were momentarily taken aback but quickly returned the smile to your lips.

“I always got you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 2: What The Fuck Did I Just Read?

So I don't mean literally 'what did I read'. I know and understand the plot, and while I probably didn't pick up on all the references and cape theme stuff Wildbow was going for, it was established a while ago that I wouldn't. And I may not have understood every scene and character the way may intended, but sincerely, fuck his intent, it sometimes sucks.

What I mean by this is -

I heard a lot about Worm before I read it. "Grimdark" "Depressing" "Optimistic" (Yes, someone actually called Worm an Optimistic Work which is... a take), "Bleak" "A Deconstruction" "A Love Letter To The Superhero Genre" "A Takedown of the Superhero Genre" "Just A Fucking Story" "The Greatest Piece Of Superhero Media Ever" and god knows what else.

I didn't hear anyone call worm a Reconstruction until I was partway into the Work, when I also discovered TV tropes calls it that which is... well, we'll get into that.

And I heard Wildbow called "A Hack" "A Nihilist" "A Guy Who Lets His Problems With Authority Get Ahead Of Him" (Or something to that effect" "An Amazing Writer" "A God Amongst Men" (Okay, not really on that last one, but I have made jokes about Wildbow having cultists or the 'Church of Wildbow' for a reason, because some people are really fucking out here acting like he's just... way better than he is, imo. Like, beyond just the degree of just subjective opinion. Not that I think Wildbow deliberately fostered such a mentality... probably)

So. What the fuck did I just read? What is Worm?

Well I am comfortable in saying that Worm is Grim, Bleak, Depressing. A lot of really bad shit happens without neat narrative resolution, there's a lot of hurt and not a lot of comfort. Taylor's life mostly gets worse, and most other people's lives mostly get worse. There's not a lot of unambiguous victories, even the ones that are straight up victories come at hilariously lopsided costs, the whole damn world is slowly collapsing, and everyone in authority is largely either complicit, incompetent, overwhelmed, corrupt, or useless. Almost nobody is just straight up heroic, and those who are usually die (in often pointless ways) or get treated as incredibly naïve by the narrative. Often both. Worm often feels pretty hopeless, and even the hope is pretty fragile and strained, when it's there.

Is Worm dark? Is it Grimdark? Well... that's trickier. There are a hell of a lot of dark implications of Worm, a lot of dark stuff that is hinted at, or insisted is there by the writer (*cough* *Cough*) but in terms of the actual darkness onscreen... depending on how one defines 'Grimdark' - how reliant are they on the conventional 4chan inspired definition or if they've expanded their understanding of the word and so on - it could qualify, but... *equivocating hand gesture*. I am reasonably comfortable that Worm itself never really quite qualifies as grimdark. The darkness on the screen is not really enough, and really, under the narrowest of 4chan definitions, it probably isn't even grim. Though I would say that there's a point where the 4chan Noble/Grim Bright/Dark four quadrant approach becomes a useless category of analysis.

I think in most cases people who call Worm grimdark are either parroting other people, lack adequate terminology to really describe what they mean (because Worm is rather hard to put a box around) or have very low standards for 'grimdark'. But I don't think everyone is talking out of their ass, because like I said, there's a lot of really dark implications of Worm. Some likely intended by Wildbow, some the result of probably oversights by him or didn't really quite grasp certain things and just kinda... threw stuff out there without following through. (Not that I blame him, Worm was huge and not every single detail needed to be followed through on, but still. Happens). Worm's entire universe and setting runs on people rather consistently making the decisions that make shit worse.

Like in 90% of the cases, each individual person's decision to make shit worse makes sense from their perspective and understanding their psyches, but it does strain credulity a little, and make it hard to say the story isn't kinda grimdark when almost every decision almost everyone makes makes things worse.

But... technically, I think Worm manages to skate by being grimdark. Sometimes just barely, but just barely can be enough.

I don't think it's particularly controversial to call Worm 'A Deconstruction' or to say that Worm deconstructs elements of the superhero genre. Does Worm Reconstruct... well, yes. It does the deconstructing thing (exploring how so many common elements of the superhero genre don't make a lot of sense) and then it does the reconstructing thing (putting them back together and designing the physics and rules of the universe so they kind of do make more sense).

But I would say that calling Worm a 'Reconstruction' is false advertising. Not because it isn't, but when most people hear the word Deconstruction, they expect a kind of depressing, bleak, grim, sometimes dark, etc story. Reconstructions are thus expected to be more upbeat and optimistic and bright. I don't think this is just me. To be fair, this doesn't have to be true. A deconstructed slasher flick would probably be fairly upbeat and bright, and a reconstructed slasher flick would... probably not be those things. But I think the general implications of the words remain true.

Telling someone Worm is a Reconstruction of the Superhero Genre, before they read it, without a lot of qualifiers, would, I think, be pretty deceptive. Accurate, but deceptive. It is possible to be misleading while being totally accurate, after all.

One thing I hear a lot about is how much more 'realistic' Worm is compared to other superhero media. Without being a deep aficionado about superhero media, I honestly can't say if this is true, but I can say that, as of itself, Worm is not what I would call realistic. Leaving aside the way Wildbow puts his thumb on the scale of 'everyone makes decisions that make shit worse' across the board, there's the fact that every element of the underlying rules of the universe are deliberately, and sometimes quite obviously, contrived to create the necessary parameters for the story he wants. Which is fine, that's perfectly fine worldbuilding and writing, but it's not 'realistic'.

He covers his ass with PtV, using it as an excuse for a lot of shit, but uh... that's still covering his ass, it's still obvious plot device is obvious. Not the worst thing the world, and I've seen much worse handlings of obvious plot device is obvious, but... man, sometimes with his worst WoGs, Wildbow really would have benefited from just admitting it was a plot hole and he made a mistake or he didn't consider something or that 'you know what, yes, it's unlikely that no one shot Jack Slash in the face during his entire career pre-Bonesaw's modifications, but it happened' (i.e. the Cauldron gun social engineering WoG is just so goddamn dumb. Less in of itself and more how it fits to everything else. String enough of his WoGs together and the whole damn setting starts to fall apart)

Things like the CUI, and the Gesellschaft and the way Africa and South America are written speak to the profound lack of realism and the contrived way that the Wormverse got constructed. The Gesellschaft is a perfectly fine plot device to have in a story - a reference and use of the way Nazi and Nazi-created and Nazi-descended and Nazi-related villains and villain organizations are a common trope in superhero comics - but it's not really all that realistic as presented. Wildbow has rather repeatedly insisted that it is, but uh... no, he's wrong. (He has admitted that his handling of South America and Africa weren't great, and to be fair, most of what we know of both could just be filtered through Taylor's own distinctly American Teenager view of the world, and to be more fair, developing entire continents that aren't even close to being in-focus for the story is a tall ask for anyone). But like, Worm isn't realistic. The way Shards work was deliberately contrived to have his intended outcome. Endbringers too. Cauldron. The backstories of characters and organizations show the way they were bent that way to achieve the outcome he wanted. And again, I don't really have a problem with elements of a story being constructed to achieve the intended outcome. People who get too focused on the worldbuilding will sometimes write themselves into a hole where the needs of the story and the needs of the Worldbuilding conflict. Wildbow almost always picked the story. It can be frustrating for people trying to isolate the elements of the world to write fanfics or analyze the world for like, versus fights or whatever, but... I don't blame the author for that. (Though his inability to just admit that he picked story over worldbuilding and instead keeps pulling a WoG out of the ether to cover his ass is... not great) To be fair, I don't think Wildbow has ever called his work 'More Realistic than Other Superhero Media'. I don't think he set out to create some hyperrealistic superhero story. And the word 'Realistic' is tossed around a lot without really clarifying what someone means. I honestly don't really call things realistic that often for that reason.

The problem here isn't Worm, or Wildbow, but some of his fans. Like I said, there's a reason why I joke about a 'Church of Wildbow.' There's people who have said that Worm has 'ruined' other superhero media for them and to those people... I mean, ruined is subjective, and like I've said repeatedly, I'm not really into superhero media, but like, deconstructing and even reconstructing the Superhero genre is not new? DC and Marvel and a lot of smaller presses have been doing that since like, the 90s? At least? I've already address how Worm doesn't seem particularly realistic to me. I think in some cases, what they may mean is that Worm is more cohesive. It's one single story told by one guy with one clear vision. Comic books in particular can experience all sorts of tonal and narrative whiplash between runs, as writers change, as artists change, as executive meddling can interfere. And that's pretty true. (*sings* We don't talk about Waaard oh-no-no).

But I also feel like if Worm really did ruin all other superhero media for you... maybe you weren't actually that into superhero media? Even if you've read a lot of it, maybe Superhero media wasn't actually for you? Just maybe?

Now, this all brings us back to the question that started this: What the Fuck did I just Read? And the disappointing answer is that... putting a box around Worm is really fucking hard. It doesn't really fit into a nice, simple, easy, pithy descriptor. Not one that doesn't mislead. I mean, Worm is grim, bleak and depressing, but it is more than that. Worm is... Worm a lot of things.

I think honestly the closest thing to a nice, succicnt, easy way to describe Worm is this one:

I don't know if Wildbow was the one to use this to describe Worm first, or if a Fan did or what, but... yeah. That's Worm.

That's what the fuck I just read.

(I did hope to go into 'Who the Hell is Worm For' question here, but uh... this is pretty long as it is, so we'll leave that off for later.)

[kachowden]

Hii! I just saw your Loren art work and HE. IS.SO. CUTEEE!!! 💖💖 the pink collar around his neck is 😍😍 but it made me think of a funny scenario (most likely one where reader knows about his obsession with them and uses it to their advantage)

It was a huge game for the college team. Almost everyone and their grand mama came to see it! Two rival teams competing against each other, both known for their long streaks of winning, and not only that! Loren’s darling is on the sidelines cheering him on! (You are probably just watching the game bored out of your mind cuz the coach FORCED you to be there *saying it’ll give them a higher chance of winning*) unfortunately though Loren’s team seems to be losing by a couple points. The stands are restless and the other teams stands even started mocking the players! With Loren’s coach yelling and hollering he suddenly got an idea.

Coach: OY! Number 13’s (girlfriend/boyfriend)! Get over here!

Surprised at the sudden call over you quickly walked over to him. “What-“ “-no time for Lilly gagging! I need you to give number 13 a pep talk! Some type of motivation! You hear me!? I ain’t gonna let these assholes win!!” He cut you off and told you what to do. Thinking for a minute as he pushed you to where Loren was taking a break on the bench, a thought popped up. You sighed and stood in front of him, he looked up to you in with that cute gaze and a sad smile. “Hey (y/n), I know this ain’t look too good but I bet we can still turn this around!” He tried to stay positive (as positive as you can get when making a fool of your self in front of your crush). You just lowered yourself to his eye level and started talking.

(Y/n): don’t worry bout that, don’t worry about what already happened. Just focus on what you do next. Cuz like you said you still have time to turn it around. *you grabbed the back of his neck and leaned into his ear, whispering* if you do manage to win,I’ll celebrate with you-give you a reward. I’ll do things so VILE to you that it’ll make the devil blush~ *giving him a smirk and a kiss on the cheek you left him on the bench*

Meanwhile the other team:”We are destroying those fools!” “They can’t keep up with us!” “That trophy is—wait do y’all hear boss music??”

Long story short Loren’s team won, the other team had most of their players end up in the hospital and he didn’t leave your apartment for almost 3 days after. (He also couldn’t walk properly for a whole week and had to wear more “covering” clothes for a while) —💖💖 anon

I almost feel like I don’t need to write anything at this point! The scenario is too good too pass up though.

——————————

Loren was frustrated. You could see it from where you sat on the teams bench. Technically, you weren’t supposed to be sat their, as it was reserved for the team and all, but the coach had made an exception for you on account of Loren’s-….crush. Or whatever it was. You didn’t know and you didn’t care.

But you had to admit, seeing that look on his face was a little upsetting. The guy had been sweet to you. A little overbearing, but sweet. And you found it a bit hard to deny the butterflies in your stomach whenever he looked so eager for praise or attention from you.

You weren’t stupid. Loren had made his intentions very clear after the first few meetings. “My lucky charm” he so often said. You found that almost laughable, what with how unlucky you often seemed to be.

That felt all the more true when you watched Loren let out a frustrated sigh, his helmet being roughly pulled from his head as the coach called a time out.

You watched, in a somewhat flattered manner, as narrowed brown eyes found their place on you, and subsequently widened in shock and awe. A wide smile broke onto the star players face as he made a beeline straight towards you.

You stood up once he came to a stop infront of the bench you occupied, and handed him his water bottle.

Loren’s tan cheeks flushed darkly, though you weren’t ignorant enough to assume it was from sweat with the way he was staring at you.

It was intense enough to make your heart beat just a little faster.

He panted after a quick sip, trying to catch his breath and not sound more pathetic than he felt.

“What-“ a deep breath “what’re you doing here? I thought you had a test tomorrow?”

Loren didn’t do much to hide how happy he was seeing you. Though the embarrassment of his previous play seemed to quickly settle in when he realized you had been watching him flounder about on the field.

You gave a soft huff and folded your arms. “Yeah-, well.” You glanced to the side, a bit shyly. You weren’t embarrassed. Only a little actually. Maybe a lot. “I finished early and decided to come see the game. A friend of mine told me it was a big deal or something so I figured I’d might as well.” Actually you knew the whole time. And you skipped studying. The real reason you showed up was because you felt guilty after seeing his face when you first rejected the offer.

God it payed to be pretty didn’t it?

Loren’s smile became all the wider at your answer. Though you spotted what seemed like mirth dancing in his eyes, before he shook his head of the cold water he sprayed onto it and looked deeply at you.

“Well I’m glad you came. Though, I wish you hadn’t see us getting our asses kicked out there..”

Jesus that kicked puppy look was killing you. You imagined he probably felt the brunt of his teams failure. Since he was the captain and all. You felt a bit bad for the guy.

“….”

You bit your lip softly.

Am I really about to do this?

If there was one thing you learned about Loren, Is he was driven by motivation. And nothing got him more motivated than you. He was more like a dog than people realized.

With only a few minutes left in the game, you decided it was a now or never situation. Besides, it wasn’t the worse case scenario.

You didn’t mine the idea actually.

With quick resolve you gripped the front of Loren’s jersey with one hand, yanked him down to your height and gripped the hair on the back of his neck firmly with the other, earning a startled grunt from the burly player who looked at you with wide glazed over eyes.

The way he was staring at you was borderline…..

Whatever that wasn’t important right now.

“Loren. I don’t know why the fuck your playing like shit right now.” Your heart ached at the borderline whimper that poured from the poor brunettes chest, “But I know damn well you can kick this shitty little teams ass.”

Loren’s breath cought in his throat for a moment, and he stared deeply in your eyes as if searching for any hint that you didn’t believe what you just said. But when he found nothing he swallowed thickly with a raging flush.

“(Y/n)…”

Time to real him in.

With a heavy exhale you furrowed your brows and gripped tighter on to his shirt.

“If you make a come back and win this game…”

“I’ll give you a kiss.”

.

.

.

Somehow the deafening roar of the two teams crowds faded instantly into white noise. The bright lights of the night poles buzzed dully in your ears as Loren’s brown eyes burned so hard into you, you swore you’d go blind.

“On the lips?”

“On the lips.”

You watched as this 6’6 hunk of man slid onto his knees in front of you, and you forced yourself not to whip around in embarrassment at the sight and the possibly of a dozen eyes watching you.

Loren breathed deeply, pushing his head into your stomach softly, like a dog asking to be pet, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers through is soft wet hair.

He shuddered, and shakily exhaled. “Promise?” He begged this wasn’t a cruel joke. Something you were going to hang over head.

“Promise.”

Holy fuck

You’d never seen a guy bolt up like that before. With nimble feet he grabbed your hand and placed a gentle kiss on the pads of your fingers, like a promise of what was to come, before turning around and marching onto the field, helmet now securely placed on his head.

The aura he had was intense. Like he was officially in the game for the first time that night. And it seemed both teams realized this, with the way their shoulders tensed and the audience grew more frenzied.

It was over before the enemy could even blink, and the sound of cheers that followed was deafening.

You could feel yourself smile a bit at the sight of Loren’s teammates crowding around him excitedly, like kids who just won a new toy.

He laughed loudly, though quickly jerked away from their hold and ran to you.

He was out of breath when he reached you, and the furious red on his cheeks was very telling. In fact, you were pretty sure the sweat and heavy breathing wasn’t from the game he just played.

Guess you had to commit now huh?

Loren’s gaze was nothing short of eager and desperate, and the way he licked his lips, seemingly unconsciously made the whole thing seem much more vulgar than it actually was.

It was just a kiss right? Probably barely even a peck.

You should’ve known that Loren was gonna get as much out of that single kiss as he could though.

With quick confirmation from you, Loren’s large rough hands took careful hold of your face. He already looked ruined from just touching you, though that may have been the post game sweat.

Time slowed briefly, and before you knew it you felt a heavy breath on your lips, where the star players hovered for a moment before finally pressing down.

It was soft at first. Gentle. His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer amongst the screams and roars of the fans who watched in awe.

Some angry. Most charmed by the romantic display.

Though when Loren’s other hand slid to your lower back, and his foot inched forward to press further into you, causing you trip, the noises faded out again.

Because Loren didn’t stop kissing you. Even when you’d fallen and your mouth popped open to gasp slightly, and his arms caught your head and cradled it tenderly and possessively, he continued to kiss you. Deeply, passionately, and above all else desperately.

What was supposed to be a pretty and simple kiss quickly turned into a make out, Loren’s hands groping at varying parts of your body but never breaking away. Your hands subsequently finding themselves tangled in his spiky soft hair.

At the sound of a low groan pouring from Loren’s lips you snapped out of it and pushed him away, though he resisted for a moment before remembering where he was.

Lifting himself up, he didn’t appear the least bit embarrassed by the public display as he hovered over you on the dewey grass field.

He looked almost frustrated at the interruption if anything.

The sky was dark above him, and the faint artificial lights glowed around you in his eyes. Though you could’ve argued similarly.

He almost looked angelic. If it hadn’t been for the look in his eyes and the odd firmness on your thigh.

Your embarrassment reached its peak when the coach blew his whistle at the two of you.

“Alright Ortega quite snoggin and get your puebescent ass over here! We still gotta wash up and go over the game! ”

Fuck you wanted to crawl in a hole and die so badly. At least your team won the game right?

It was best you didn’t know the only reason they had been losing in the first place was because a certain wonder boy was pouting over your previous rejection.

[moodymisty]

Request: Guilliman / fem!reader and some sexy size difference 👀 trying to navigate the logistics of taking a primarch are either kinky or a nightmare 💫

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: The logistics of fucking a primarch or even just doing pretty much anything nsfw or not is a nightmare. I decided to add in a little Guilliman pampering in this one, since it kinda worked out. Enjoy.

Relationships: Guilliman/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Oral(male receiving), Size difference, Porn without plot

Guilliman feels warm- almost overwhelmingly so - as you lay against his side.

He’s still asleep, the sun has just barely started to rise and as of yet he’s allowed himself some reprieve, if only for a little while. His ability to do this, just lay down even if only for a little bit, is such a rare treat.

In this warmth however it’s a bit too hot for you; Terra is beginning to heat up and the massive primarch’s body temp is a bit stifling. You don’t have any blankets on the bed, and while you lay in your thin and airy nightdress, Guilliman wears a thin pair of trousers and nothing else.

He looks so peaceful when he sleeps; the wrinkles on his face soften just a bit, now that his brow isn’t permanently hard set. It's a habit of his and sometimes you joke that his face will stick that way forever at this rate, and you'll either get told to shush, or he'll joke back that perhaps it already has.

His chest raises and lowers with his slow breaths, and for a moment you almost wish that the galaxy wasn't the way it was, so you could enjoy this more often. You’re also nearly tempted to climb onto his chest, until you look downward towards his legs that run far past your own.

With one leg out straight, Guilliman has the other one partly bent to the side, and through the thin fabric of his trousers you can clearly see that he’s half hard.

It’s something that just happens, you know, but it still makes your mouth water and piques your interest. Going back to sleep suddenly seems a bit less interesting now. No one has come to retrieve Guilliman either, be it one of his legion or one of his fellow primarchs, so you suppose there's time.

Painstakingly slow you pull away from his side, sliding downward until you make it to his hips. You consider crawling over his one leg to sit between them, but you’re too worried it would wake him up early and ruin this. Then again, it's entirely possible he's waking up or already is, and is simply letting you feel like you're being sneaky. You don't doubt the primarch is far more keen than baseline humans, even in his sleep. Then again while him being a light sleeper would make sense given his duties, he rarely allows himself sleep to begin with unless he's sure there's nothing to be done, so in these moments he takes solace in being not only safe, but uninterrupted; Knocking out like a light.

Your hands oh so gently grasp the top of his trousers and pull downward, watching his face turned to his left side as he sleeps. He doesn’t flinch surprisingly, and you’re able to gently grasp his cock with one hand and pull it over top of his waistband without waking him.

After you succeed in doing it, you swiftly realize that what you had in mind might have more logistical problems than you had thought in the height of your growing arousal.

In the moments you've managed to steal with him, those time are few and your relationship is new, it sometimes took hours before he managed to slip over half of his cock into you. With your mouth, you now have to try and fit at least some of him into your mouth without choking. A tall order, as Guilliman's tall stature has more than caused him to be proportional.

You are nothing if not persistent however, and accidentally choking yourself is more than worth the satisfaction of gifting something Guilliman rarely experiences.

leaning forward your lips softly brush over the tip of his cock, watching his face intently. He only shifts slightly, and so your lips part and you slowly try to take as much into your mouth as you can while one hand wraps around the base of his shaft, and your other hand keeps you from falling right over.

You don't get much farther than that, as once your head begins to slowly bob, he groans as he rouses from sleep; Blurry eyes blinking open.

“What…?”

His eyes focus and watches you lay at his hips, hand around his cock. He watches you struggle to take him into your mouth, spit pooling in the corner of your lips. One droplet trickles down your chin slowly.

“You never cease to surprise me,” He says tiredly, gravely voice laced with sleep and the just barely audible hint of arousal.

Any other time you might’ve attempted this Guilliman would have surely refused, not wishing to inconvenience you or waste time he needed to use elsewhere. He was a busy man, and he often time disallowed himself so many things for the sake of efficiency. As much as he might want to, he wasn't allowed to be selfish; As well as not knowing how to ask for such a thing in the first place.

But now, he’s been so worn out by the past few weeks that he finds himself victim to you curious games, and for once allows himself to be on the receiving end of your affection.

Your lips slide farther down his shaft and the tip of his cock presses against the soft palette at the back of your throat, causing it to tighten as you try to avoid gagging. Guilliman groans at the feeling but raises a hand towards you.

“Careful, I,” His voice hitches as your lips pull back slightly. “Don’t choke.”

You heed his warning but only slightly, still treading the line between taking as much of him into your mouth as you possibly can, and not choking. Occasionally your eyes flick upward to see his still sleepy expression change as your tongue and lips glide along his cock- the wrinkles on his face for once not exaggerating with anger or irritation. He's watching you so intently that it's almost embarrassing, but to see him unravel is worth the feeling of your face and neck feeling like they're on fire.

You hear Guilliman uncharacteristically swear into the quiet room, the only other noises being the sound of blankets rustling and the wet noise of slopping spit. The sun is just barely spilling into the room, you can see the beginnings of sunrays pooling on the bed and Guilliman's skin.

The primarch as far as you know has never been at the receiving end of things like this, so you seek to please him no matter the difficulty of the size difference. Your jaw hurts and your mouth waters from how full it is, but your body feels hot and stomach tight. You'd slip one of your hands downward to rub your clit if one wasn't holding you upright, and the other wrapped around the base of Guilliman's cock that you couldn't fit into your mouth. So it throbs begging, cunt clenching around nothing as you briefly imagine the cock in your mouth being stuffed inside of your cunt instead.

Later, perhaps.

With a groan Guilliman lets his head fall back, throwing his weight and making the bed shake. It accidentally bounces your head in his cock for just a moment and barely tickles the back of your throat, a feeling that makes the primarch have to prevent his hips from thrusting upward to chase the feeling even at the cost of you choking. He feels the vibration from your throat as you moan, trying to relax your jaw as your hand touches what of him you can’t fit. You swallow some spit mixed with precum that's pooled in the back of your throat, and the movement makes him noticeably jump.

You can feel he close, his cock twitches in your mouth and when you hear him mumble near incoherently in some sort of attempt to perhaps warn you, you prepare yourself as he fills your mouth only moments later.

The shaky, pleased groan is something you’d love to hear more of, and you already have a million and one ideas on how to do this again as you swallow his cum. In an embarrassing thought you realize just how much he has, it's a struggle to swallow it all at first and prevent it leaking down your throat.

He leans up on an elbow to look at you, his pupils still wide and face noticeably red. His lips are slightly parted as he pants from exertion but not the kind he's used to, brow furrowing once again.

“You will be the death of me, you know,”

He says as you pull your mouth of his cock fully and rub your sore jaw. You stretch it wide and wince at the ache, knowing it will hurt for a decent while now. You still smirk at him anyways and wipe the spit away from the corners of your lips.

“Is that better or worse than dying in battle?” Guilliman doesn’t answer, and you can see his mouth shift as he tries to hide his emotions.

“Come here.” He leans forward and grips your hip before gently tugging, emphasizing his words. When you don't move right away, he leans fully upright and grasps your waist, easily moving you with no effort on his part. Your difference in size can be quite advantageous to him, in that regard.

“Let me return the favor.”

[specific-dreamer]

my baby, my baby (you’re my baby)

Summary: darry visits his dad and rants. he also cries. </3

Darrel loves each of his kids (and stray kids) equally. No matter how hard Steve tries to pry it out of him, he does not have a favorite.

He loved when Johnny came over for dinner and he’s able to convince the kid to spend the night, he loves when Soda and Steve came home with new stories about their day at the rodeo, he loved when he came home from work and Ponyboy would rush to tell him about the book he’d just finished, he loved attending Ace’s recitals, and he loved when Dally comes over just to sit in their company when he could’ve been causing a ruckus around town instead.

He is, however, a little more partial to his first born than the others. No hard feelings, he still loves his other kids, but Darrel Junior was his first child; the reason he’s the father he was a father, so he’s always going to have a soft spot for him no matter what he does.

Besides, it doesn’t hurt that Junior is the only one who visits him and Karen on a normal basis. Darrel huffs to himself has he sits on top of his grave. Since dying, he’s somehow gained an internal watch, so he knows it’s 3:47pm exactly; when Junior visits it’s usually around 4pm.

Junior’s early today though, Darrel thinks to himself hearing footsteps approaching. There’s not much else he can do but wait for Darry who bends in front of Karen’s grave and leaves her a flower first. If he were alive, Darrel’s heart might’ve clenched. Karen’ll be sorry he missed Darry, but she’s watching over the other boys right now; it’s alright though, Darrel will fill her in when she gets back.

Darry’s head was bent too low for him to get a good look at first, but now that he’s turned towards Darrel’s grave he can see the tears streaming down his face. If he still needed oxygen, he’s sure his breath would’ve caught.

“Hi, Dad,” Darry’s says taking a seat on the ground. Darrel can’t help but notice he’s got his knees pulled to him like he’s trying to protect himself.

He frowns and pulls himself to join Darry on the ground. Hey, kiddo. What’s the matter? He knows Darry can’t hear him, he learnt that the hard way a while ago now, it still brings him a little bit of comfort though.

Darry sniffs. “I don’t know how you and Mama did it.”

Did what?

Darry gestures in the air, “This parenting shit- stuff, I meant stuff, sorry.” Darrel laughs a little; his baby’s twenty years old and still apologizing for cussing.

If he’s honest, Darrel isn’t even sure how he did it. It was in large part thanks to Karen, of course, she kept him steady whenever he floundered. Junior also helped too, though. He doesn’t like to throw the word around, but for all intent and purposes, Darry was a perfect first child.

“The other night,” Darry continues. “I guess Ponyboy had a nightmare or something, I don’t know, but I heard him asking Soda why I hated him.” His voice breaks at the end and Darrel is forced to watch as Junior sobs into his arms.

It’s futile he knows, but after a moment of watching he hugs Darry anyway. Almost as if he could actually feel the hug, Darry stiffens before looking up and staring straight through Darrel. Spooky, he thinks.

“I don’t hate him, I promise.”

I know you don’t.

“I love him a lot, but it’s like he purposely grates my nerves. He knows I’m stretched thin and it’s like he’s trying to see how long until I snap. And that’s not fair! I don’t know how to be a parent, I don’t how to raise a fourteen year old!”

Darrel isn’t sure when it happened, but a flip was switched as Junior started to rant angrily. He doesn’t leave the cemetery too often, but when he did he noticed the two often riled each other up; it was never one sided. He can’t exactly correct Darry though so he hums instead.

“Daddy, you know when you first, um,” he winces. “left, Pony didn’t talk for a week. Okay, that’s fine, I can handle that, but he stopped eating too. I tell him, ‘Pony you have to eat something, you can only go so long without eating before you die from starvation.’ And I kid you not the only thing he says to me that entire week was ‘You’re not dad, Darrel, you can’t tell me what to do’. I never said I was! I just didn’t want him to die too, is that so bad?”

Darrel blinks. That was a lot, and he’s not really sure where to start processing it. He sighs airlessly, It’s not bad. You were worried about him and had his best interests at heart I get it. Is he eating now at least?

Just as fast as it came, the anger seems to leave Darry all once as he lies back on the grass with his hands over his face. “I don’t even know if he eating for real, yet. I’m not home enough to know; I eat my breakfast in the dark, go to work, come home when everyone’s asleep, eat dinner in the dark, go to bed, rinse and repeat.”

Darrel winces. Even he didn’t work those kind of hours and could’ve handled them. Darrel liked his solitude every now and then, but not Darry. No, not his Junior; his Junior is a people’s person through and through, there’s a reason he won boy of his year.

Rubbing Darry’s ankle he says, I know you’re working your ass off, but I’m real proud of you, baby. I know it don’t look it now, but it will all pay off.

There’s a pause, and if he wants he could trick himself into believing his boy heard him, before Darry says something so quietly Darrel has to strain to hear. “I know it’s wrong, and I try not to, but sometimes I wish I let them get taken. I love them, really I do! But Soda wants to drop out of school and Pony hates me and he thinks I hate him back, and don’t even get me started on Dallas— I don’t think there’s a been a weekend where we haven’t haven’t argued or he hasn’t been in jail. I’m trying my best, but I keep screwing up and that’s not fair on them.”

He breaks into sobs again, this time so strong his whole body shakes. Darrel can’t even do anything to comfort him, his stupid ghost body isn’t corporeal. The best thing he can do is stroke Darry’s hair and hope he knows his daddy is here for him. He hates seeing his kids cry and he’s never been more angry that he’s dead.

Between sobs Darry says, “I wanna leave. So I can’t mess anything else up.”

No, sir. You’ll get the hang of things soon enough, it’s a new adjustment and y’all’ve just gotta find your footing. I know it’s hard, but y’all will find it.

“I’m not gonna,” Darry protests. His baby is red in the face and breathing real hard, but Darrel is thankful is eyes are finally starting to dry. “I want to leave but I don’t want to leave them.”

So, what are you gonna do, Junior?

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I wish you were here, you’d know what to do.”

Darrel winces. Actually now-

“Well, never mind. You wouldn’t be dumb enough to get in this situation to begin with.”

Harsh, but he’s probably right. Darrel watches as the gears turn in Junior’s head. He loves all his kids equally, yes. But Darry’s always been his favorite to watch because when he isn’t focused he wears every emotion on his face. He can see exactly when Darrys made his mind up long before he stands up and dusts off his pants.

“You drive a hard bargain, but fine I’ll stay.” Darrel barks out a laugh as Darry checks his watch. It’s 6:29pm, he’s been here for nearly three hours. “Shit, I said I’d make dinner.” Somehow, when Darry looks up he’s staring Darrel in the eyes. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you later.”

Alright, stay tough out there. I love you, kiddo.

Darry’s eyes widen a minuscule amount and he grins as he ducks his head. “Yeah, I love you too, daddy.”

[bloodiedrogue]

your heart's a mess

pairing: loki laufeyson x female reader contains: 18+ sexual content, cunnilingus, mentions of rough sex/toxic relationship. also, unedited. wc: 964. note: this is a little treat for the sluts and the sluts only. y'all know who you are, merry christmas ya filthy animals. <3

Loki kneads her flesh with heavy hands. Hungry fingers poking and prodding and prying —the sheer force of which he pushes her thighs apart making her heavily breathe. 

It’s like music to his ears —that simple puff of air. It’s sound spurring him further; threatening to tear what little resolve he last left to pieces. Only to leave the ill-intentions of ruin behind his mind’s eye. The sights of wanton moans and twitching nerves taking shape in his thoughts while his hands explore.

Gripping her calves, he sees her lips part to create another breath, the lack of weight compared to the first making his brows pinch together and his hands get more rough, wanting more. 

“You’re being rather quiet for someone who was just ruthlessly bragging about their ability to keep quiet.”

As he speaks, his voice takes on a gravelly hum. The almost ragged tone reverberating straight from his chest onto the skin of her knee as he takes a quick bite —teeth sinking through the wicked grin that pulls across his face when she huffs out a laugh. 

“Well, you’re being distracting.”

“Am I?” 

In addition to his tease, he runs his mouth up her leg with a smirk, allowing his tongue to languidly slip out between each open-mouthed kiss. The mere taste of her causing a sound of approval to release. 

It makes her smile. A big, toothy grin that steals the breath from his lungs, prompting him to bite her hip to suppress the feeling. To distract him from the ache that spreads throughout his chest, threatening to undo all the work he’s done to block it out. 

“You’re being awfully gentle tonight.”

As expected, he feigns the obvious, pretending as if the uncharacteristic way he touches her is the result of exhaustion rather than desire. 

“Bit sore,” he ends up telling her, using the excuse of mistreatment and injury to cover up the fact that he merely wants to touch her. To hold and caress and memorize. To take his time shaping her to his every whim. 

“Rough job?”

“Somewhat.”

Her brow quirks up in time with the hand that slips down to caress his face in response. The simple gesture —soft and warm— making him nod and pull away, knowing that if he doesn’t he’ll only offer more mercy.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Instead of replying, he merely nips her hip, offering his usual brusqueness. The instant shift from gentle to rough making her knowingly hum, expecting as much, considering it’s how he always is —pushy, aggressive, impatient. All the things a lover shouldn’t be, and yet, she seems to know just how to bear the brunt of such qualities, taking them in stride. Enjoyment, even.

Which is a thought that truthfully scares him when he focuses too hard on it, realizing how little he deserves to earn such reactions after using only the parts of her he finds amusing. If anything, he deserves to be denied these pleasures he often seeks out —barred eternally for even thinking of harming something so fragile. 

And yet, each time he creates those blooming marks across her skin, carelessly leaving them in places where everyone can see, she hardly bats an eye. Instead, she just lets him pour the heat of all the fury that sits within his gut out onto her flesh like it’s nothing. Like it’s something she truly wants.

It completely vexes him. Not because he isn’t used to women fawning in response to his abuse, but because the more it happens, the more guilty he feels, watching her reduce herself to nothing more than a casket of flesh he continually retires his rage into.

It makes him want to stop, sometimes. To truly feel the texture of her skin, whole and unharmed. Healed and nurtured rather than beaten and broken. 

So, tonight, he does. Slowly forcing himself to hold back the urge to inflict as he remaps every dip and curve. Foolishly allowing himself to take on the kind of reverence he knows he should not be bestowed.  

Taking his time, he starts by lapping the apex of her thighs before he shifts the fabric of her underwear down for easy access, revelling in the sight. Releasing an approving hum, he then presses careful kisses to the edge of her entrance, feeling her arch instead of round. The obvious desire for more only spurring him further as latches onto her clit to suck. 

And at first, it feels odd to move so leisurely —to slow things down and simply feel as his tongue runs careful patterns over the bundle of nerves. Given their usual routine, it seems wrong to not already be buried inside her, taking what’s his in a matter one would definitely describe as brutal. 

Yet, despite all that, he somehow finds peace —silence— as if the sudden taste of both her melting on his tongue and the discovery that he’s capable of violent restraint in the name of worship erases the anger and resentment. Every minuscule flicker of displeasure wafting away with the sound of her gentle voice calling his name; begging for more. Something he’s offering over with protest in the form of wandering hands that pull her further into wanting lips. The position of his hands acting as a tether, holding her down with every squirm each time he curls his tongue or applies more pressure.

Against his mouth, he can hear those wanton moans he imagined not too long ago paired alongside the twitching nerves. The sound, making his own throat well up with an undeniable longing as moves his hand to spread her further, prodding her centre with the base of his nose as he begins to bury himself within her, embracing praise instead of condemnation. 

[gallusrostromegalus]

So how much are you willing to talk about Ulquiorra?

I will talk so much about him. There are so many things wrong with that man, but to make a brief list of his most notable features:

He's dumb as hell.

I say that with tremendous sympathetic affection. Ulquiorra barely thinks. It's easy for him to do nothing and go nowhere. He eats chocolate in the middle of the night in the dark. When he gets access to a garden, he often just stands around in it. He's often waiting for things to happen.

He just LOOKS smart compared to nearly everyone else in the fic because he doesn't have much to say, so he's not constantly opening his mouth to jam his foot down it.

Consequently, Ulquiorra starts off having little to no initiative of his own. Stuff just happens to him. Some of that is because he is colossally depressed, but he's depressed because the idea that he has control over his circumstances has straight up not occured to him.

The first person he meets that shows him that "You can just do whatever you want, forever" and the boundless joy it is to be a creature of free will is, unfortunately, Aizen. And Aizen left off the key corollary "-EVERYONE is allowed to do whatever they want, forever. We are all equal in God's dead, empty eye sockets."

So Ulquiorra wanders around trying out this "doing stuff" thing without any concept of ethics.

I realize I am infantilizing this character, but I am doing so in a twilight zone "hey, wouldn't it be fucked up to watch a fully anatomically functional person who is able to speak and blow stuff up with his mind go through the emotional development steps of a toddler?", because I think that's a fun high-concept premise to explore with him. Yeah, what if a toddler could speak articulately and also destroy you? How would he act? How does he feel, learning to have feelings?

It'd probably suck for him and everyone around him, and make him very easy to manipulate, for one thing.

So I don't think Ulquiorra is evil, because evil takes intent. He is dangerous to be in the general proximity of, though

Like a horse

lose

in a hospital!

I love that sketch as much as the next person but if an IRL horse got loose in a hospital it would be bedlam, but the horse would be mostly confused and probably willing to follow around the first person who looked like they knew what they were doing.

You know, like how Ulquiorra follows Aizen around because that's the first guy he's met who THINKS he knows what he's doing, and is good at convincing others he knows what he's doing!

So Ulquiorra's entire first character arc is being exposed to more and more people and realizing he does have control over his life, and that he can take actions, and that those actions have consequences.

Like being emotionally devastated by a teenage girl because he was an asshole to her and she's willing to scream at him about it.

Hm.

Consequences hurt.

He lives through the Las Noches arc, and decides to follow his own star!

He follows it right through a portal that was not meant for him and now he's sort of trapped in somewhere he's really, really, really, really, REALLY not supposed to be.

But it's a beautiful place

And nobody is forcing him to do anything.

And for a long time, he just stands out in the garden, waiting for something.

But then

Ulquiorra experiences a novel pair of emotions that he's recently learned from his new...

Orihime is too mad at him for him to call her a friend.

-but he did learn the names and therefore the experience of two new emotions from her: boredom, and it's natural remedy: curiosity.

So Ulquiorra's second character arc is him learning how to be himself without anyone telling him who he is and what he ought to be.

He's travelling up Maslow's hierarchy with the inscrutable but unstoppable instinctual drive of a salmon returning to its spawning ground.

This has lead to an important discovery on my part: Ulquiorra is terrific for comedy because he is the ULTIMATE straight man to everyone else's nonsense, because he's immune to nearly all nonsense.

He doesn't have societal taboos to be hung up on, nor any sense of what is "normal", so the sole thing he geta hung up on is a lack of internal consistency in others, meaning he can slip between straight man to the absurdist at the drop of a single scathing observation. Yet, he retains a sort of understated dignity that compels people to try to earn his respect.

Hence, I'm having fun turning him loose on the most absurd, internally inconsistent and frankly, insane batch of characters in the series:

The Royal Guard.

:)