#The second parade was definitely longer

[violethursday]

For my first parades, they were pretty fun besides the slight arm pain afterwards from carrying the trombone.

[sleepyhoon]

BAJA BLAST - S.JY

pairing. religious stepbro!jake x fem reader genre. drabble, porn w plot warnings. virgin perv jake, stepcest, religious themes, brief mention of alcoholism & death word count. 3.5k smut tags. degradation, dry humping (i guess…), handjob, jake sucks reader’s tits thru her shirt, p in v for like 30 seconds.

a/n. hmm trying to get into darker themes to expand my genres a bit more … not too sure how i feel abt it yet but it was interesting to explore a new trope! i understand darker tropes aren’t for everyone sooo feel free to skip over if this isn’t for you!! <3

———

“You’re disgusting, and you’re not gonna find a God-fearing husband if you keep parading yourself like a slut.”

Jake pries your legs open a little wider, further situating himself between your thighs as he smears his precum on the core of your panties. He glances up at you when you scoff, knees digging into the mattress as he drags the tip of his cock along your clothed cunt. “What?” he sneers, raising a brow at you.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re getting yourself off between someone else’s legs; you’re the slut,” Jake’s cock twitches in the palm of his hand at your insult, you take a mental note of this, “and, I don’t even want a God-fearing husband, whatever that is.”

“It means a religious husband, genius. None of them probably want you anyway, so the feeling is mutual.”

Degrading as it may be, this is the shit that gets Jake off; certainly not his prude, preacher’s daughter girlfriend who only allows him to kiss her for a few seconds at a time, because anything longer than that could be “too tempting”.

He didn’t hate Chaeyoung in the slightest, but he likely wouldn’t have made all that effort to court her had he known she was saving herself for marriage in every aspect. No lingering touches, no suggestive comments, and certainly no racy photos; the poor boy would’ve been fine with her sitting on his lap every now and then if it meant he’d get to jerk off from the weight of someone on top of him.

Much like Chaeyoung, Jake was on the treacherous path of saving himself for marriage, but even he allowed himself a bit of wiggle room. Saving himself entirely for marriage was beyond unrealistic, but he was willing to at least avoid shoving his dick in someone before there was a ring on his finger if it meant he could get off in other ways.

Jake didn’t have the heart to break up with Chaeyoung just because she wanted to stay pure until marriage, but he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to finally get his dick wet. Besides, breaking up with the preacher’s daughter for seemingly no reason was a bad look, especially considering that Jake was the youth pastor at the same exact church.

Aside from the pastor and his wife, Jake and Chaeyoung were the only couple treated as royalty in their church community. They were seen as devoted followers of Christ whilst showcasing what an appropriate, God-fearing, young, Christian couple should look like. From the outside looking in (or even just looking from his girlfriend’s perspective), they truly did resemble a perfect couple.

How Jake got into jerking off between his step-sister’s thighs was a long story.

His original plan was to keep his distance when he first met you a little over a year ago, a few months before his father was preparing to marry your mother. Jake didn’t take kindly to you at first, bewildered on how such a respectful, faith-driven woman such as your mother could produce a daughter the exact opposite of her. Your outfits were entirely too skimpy, you had a horrible attitude, and you had tattoos. In Jake’s eyes, you were the definition of sin.

And that’s exactly why he felt disgusted with himself when he realized he was desperately attracted to you.

It was horrible, the countless nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you sinking down on his cock and riding him until he passed out. He’s certain his stamina is low and would probably finish in under five minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to dream; and that he does.

Until you showed up to his apartment one Monday morning with a large Baja Blast from Taco Bell and a proposition.

“Taco Bell at ten in the morning, seriously?”

You hadn’t greeted him with a “Good morning!” or “Hey, how are you?” and instead jumped the gun and went straight into, “Hey, you know how my dad died?”

Jake held his front door open, running a hand through his messy, morning hair in confusion as he responded, “Wasn’t it from, like, alcoholism?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, but I meant like… you know that he’s dead, right? Also, Taco Bell serves breakfast, genius.”

“YN, it’s too early for this.” Jake says with a frustrated sigh, prepared to close the door in your face because it’s way too early to deal with your bullshit.

“I’m getting his inheritance from my grandmother, a huge one.”

Jake tried his best at attempting to hide the look of shock on his face. From his knowledge, your grandparents were loaded; practically rolling in money since the moment they were born. Having your father’s inheritance transferred to you was a blessing, Jake didn’t even want to imagine the useless crap you’d waste that money on.

“Congrats, did you come here to rub it in my face?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed and a little defeated knowing you’d need Jake’s help. You felt entirely guilty for even coming to him in the first place, the two of you weren’t close and hardly spoke outside of gatherings, the only reason you showed up to his apartment was because you didn’t have his phone number; only his address you had to scroll in your GPS to find from the one time you drove him home.

“No, I’m not here to brag. I need your help.”

Jake hesitantly opened his door wider, allowing you into his home that you nervously pace around in. “Help with what?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“I don’t get the inheritance until after my grandma dies.”

“YN, are you crazy?! I am not helping you kill your grandmother!”

“What?! Jake, no! God, just let me finish.” An awkward beat of silence passed before you continued, “She says I’m not getting the inheritance unless I get into religion and be involved in church.”

“Yeah, can’t help with that.” Jake took a moment to look you up and down, eyes focusing on the fresh tattoo right under your knee, “You’re gonna need a miracle.”

You followed behind Jake like a helpless puppy as he entered his kitchen, nervously toying with your fingers as you set your drink down on the kitchen counter, “I know we aren’t really close, and that’s partially my fault, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.”

“With what, YN? You haven’t said what you’d need me to do.”

“Just, every so often, tell my family that I’m involved in church and help out. Shit like that.”

Jake chuckled, powering on his Nespresso, “As if that’s gonna work. You know your family goes to church, right? What are they gonna think if they don’t see you there but I’m telling them you showed up? They’d see right through it.”

“They don’t go every Sunday! I’ll just check ahead of time and go with them whenever they do go, and on the days they don’t go you’d be able to cover for me.”

Jake sighed with a shake of his head, reaching into his cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug, “It’s not just Sunday service, YN. They also go to bible study and help plan church events. Your family is very involved in the community.”

“Again, they don’t attend every event, right? I’ll go when they go and you cover when I can’t! And, besides, it’s not like they’re expecting me to go to every single event; as long as they think I’m putting in effort I’ll be fine.”

You seemed proud of yourself and your plan, which only annoyed your step-brother even further, because you clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“What’s in it for me?”

You paused, quirking a brow at Jake, “What do you mean?”

“We barely even know each other and you expect me to do this big favor for you for free? Be realistic.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want…half of the inheritance.”

“Jake, even you know that’s too much.”

Yeah, maybe he was being a little petty, but it was your own fault for asking for a favor like this and not offering him anything in return. He may not know the exact amount of your inheritance, but based on your reaction, it had to be a life changing amount of money; enough to give him a portion of.

“I’d rather not say what the exact amount is,” you start, looking down at your sneakers, “but it’s a lot, and I’m definitely willing to give you a fraction of it if you help me out. Just not half.”

“How much?”

“For you? Fifty-thousand.”

Jake dropped the ceramic mug to the ground, eyes widening as the cup broke and scattered across the kitchen floor. You flinched, jumping back on instinct while he remained frozen in place. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”

You wanted to tell him it’s truly nothing compared to the amount you’d have leftover, and that you’d offer him more if he insisted on it, but fifty-thousand seems to be enough for him. Instead, you nodded, carefully backing into the living room to avoid accidentally stepping on the ceramic shards.

“Does that work?”

It was too late to pretend your offer wasn’t more than he’d been expecting, but still, Jake had no reason to believe you’d hold up to your end of the deal; even if giving him fifty-thousand dollars would hardly make a dent in what you’d be receiving.

Jake shook his head, “I don’t know you, how can I trust you’ll actually give it to me?”

“You can’t just take my word?”

“The only word I take is the word of God.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

Jake continued, “I want a down payment that I can receive now; something so that if you don’t pay me, I still got something out of our agreement.”

Intrigued, and a little frightened, you tilted your head at him, “Money?”

Jake shrugged in response, carefully stepping over the shards of ceramic, “Doesn’t have to be, your mom says you don’t have much of it.”

“I have money!”

Jake rolled his eyes, retrieving a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet, “Right, because your part-time barista job pays so much.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I really don’t know what else to offer you.”

“Better think of something or you’re on your own.”

The sound of ceramic clicking together as Jake cleans filled the silence, leaving you to brainstorm on what he would accept as a down payment offer. Money wasn’t an option, and you didn’t know enough about Jake’s interests to offer him some sort of bribe.

However, Jake is a man. Yes, a religious one, but still a man. If you’re lucky enough, there’s one thing you could offer that no man, not even Jake, would pass up.

“Chaeyoung is saving herself for marriage, right?”

Jake paused, suspiciously glancing at you over his shoulder, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but yes.”

You nodded, “Are you?”

“Again, not your business, but yes.”

“What about loopholes?”

Jake fully turned around this time, narrowing his eyes at you, “YN, where are you going with this?”

You shrugged, defensively raising your hands, “What if I was your loophole? Like, I help you get off however you want without actually having sex, so it won’t count as sinning. And, trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jesus Christ, you seriously wanted the inheritance that bad?

Jake immediately wanted to accept the offer and drag you straight into his room, but he couldn’t; he had to be nonchalant about this or risk you revoking your suggestion.

He faked a look of disgust, a confused, twisted snarl on his face as he responded, “But, you’re my step-sister; isn’t that wrong?”

You shrugged, “I don’t care if you don’t. Plus, we’re adults and we barely even know each other, it’s not like our parents married years ago and we grew up as siblings.”

Fair point, not that Jake needed any further convincing.

“I’m not offering you this again, by the way. You either accept it now or you’ll never get the chance again,” you warn Jake, taking a seat down on the edge of his couch.

After a few long moments of pretending to weigh his options, Jake extended the end of the broomstick in your direction, slowly using the handle of it to lift your skirt. You didn’t react, your eyes following the edge of the broomstick as Jake continued his actions. He lowered his head slightly, confused as to why he couldn’t see your panties, until he realized.

You weren’t wearing any.

He cleared his throat, quickly pulling the broom away before leaning it up against the wall. “Sure, whatever, I guess. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Easiest deal of his life.

Jake made sure you kept to your end of the deal, and maybe took some advantage of it.

The first incident occurred a few weeks after the agreement, when Jake had to cover for you upon missing Sunday service due to you being hungover.

“She was up all night designing flyers for the coat drive next week,” Jake addressed your mother’s concerns, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “she really wanted to come to today’s service, but I told her she should get some rest.”

Your mother clutched her heart, staring up at Jake in complete awe, “YN? My YN?”

Jake nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he responded, “The one and only.”

Your mother was skeptical, tilting her head at her stepson with her brows furrowed, “Just doesn’t sound like something she would do, unless there was something in it for her, of course. You’re not covering for her, are you?”

Jake faked a laugh, “The only thing YN is covered in is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

…And apparently Jake’s cum only a few hours later.

“…Now, guess who’s stuck designing flyers for the coat drive? Me!”

“I told you I would do it, you little brat,” your fist tightens around Jake’s clothed cock and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut at the new, uncomfortable, yet pleasant sensation.

You were slightly off-put and a little humored when Jake showed up to your apartment requesting, “A handjob but I, like, keep my boxers on. Like, just do it through my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather…have your boxers off?”

“Are you nuts? I’m not letting you touch me,” he’d said, unbuttoning his dress pants as he lowered himself on your mattress.

You obliged his request, awkwardly rubbing him through his boxers, watching as his facial expressions changed so quickly and constantly. His brows would furrow then relax, lips would twitch before sinking his teeth in them, all while he tried his best not to finish embarrassingly quick.

Which didn’t work.

Jake was already on the edge of cumming when you lowered your head down to his groin, placing a small peck against the head of his clothed cock, the material sticky and wet from his precum.

His body jolts at the touch, arching off the mattress with swears spewing from his lips as his orgasm washed over him. He shoves his boxers down in record time, grinning to himself when you groan in agony when his cum lands on your cheek.

Had you been literally anyone else, maybe Jake would’ve felt bad that he came so quickly and didn’t have the energy nor interest to give you anything in return; but he didn’t. This was an agreement, and as long as the two of you held to both your ends of the deal, there was nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t owe you anything else.

Surprisingly enough, the arrangements weren’t happening as frequently as Jake hoped they would.

You immersed yourself into the church community, showing up to Sunday Worship and Bible Study as if it were a second nature. Jake should be proud, really, that you’re serious about being devoted; even if it was under the premise of obtaining your father’s inheritance, but he’s pissed.

He waited weeks for you to slip up, intentionally scheduling a Bible Study session or some church fundraiser at a time where he knows you’ll be busy and have no choice to skip, but you show up.

To every fucking event. Until you don’t.

Your younger cousin was getting baptized and you missed it, and if it weren’t for Jake making up some lame excuse and covering for your ass, your mother would’ve gone ballistic on you.

Jake’s happy to cover for you, though, knowing he’d be getting something in return not too long afterwards.

After weeks of feigning, that simple slip up was how Jake found him back between your thighs, pumping his cock along the outline of your cunt through your thin panties.

“Whatever,” you sneer, propping yourself up on your elbows, “marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Jake rolls his eyes, pausing and grateful at the fact that he has a better of your tits. For some godforsaken reason, the air conditioner in your home is always on full blast, and despite assuring your guests that you don’t feel that cold, your body certainly says otherwise; if the way your hardened nippled poke through your shirt is anything to go by.

He licks his lips, pumping his dick a little faster as he leans down and traces his tongue along your clothed nipple. You’re saying something, maybe asking him what he’s doing or to keep going, but he can’t hear you; having you like this is new territory for him, nothing else in the world mattered at this moment.

His saliva stains your t-shirt as he continues, moaning against your chest as he flicks his tongue against your bud. Jake lightly traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to sting before releasing it once again, lapping his tongue against it as if to apologize.

Your hand moves to his hair, giving it a tight grip as Jake moans before shoving your arm away entirely. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch me!”

“But-”

“Wait.”

Fuck, that felt good. It wasn’t much but it felt so fucking good.

He needed more of you, fuck all this waiting for marriage bullshit. He tried his best for as long as he could, and he doesn’t want to fucking wait anymore.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbles, wasting no time in pushing your panties to the side. The sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his mouth water, and Jake swears he can hear a choir of angels singing as he stares down at it in awe.

“Jake, I thought-”

“Fuck that,” Jake is quick to cut you off, already knowing what your next words were, “I don’t wanna wait anymore; show me how.”

“How to what?”

“The one thing you know how to do.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re such an asshole.” You say, but it doesn’t stop you from maneuvering your right hand between your bodies and gripping the base of Jake’s cock, encouraging him to scoot forward as you guide him directly to your hole.

You don’t move him any further, making the choice of letting Jake decide whether he’s serious about this.

He is.

He presses the head of his cock further into you, squeezing his eyes shut as you wrap around him so snug and perfect. He stills his movements, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan.

It’s already too much and he’s not even halfway in. It feels too good, so wet and warm and tight, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck…”, he mumbles into your shoulder, taking note of how none of this barely had an effect on you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him in an oddly sweet tone, “try moving.”

“I can’t, think I’m gonna come if I do.”

“You’ll be fine, just-”

Jake lets out a loud, frustrated groan as he raises his head away from your shoulder, “You wouldn’t fucking get it.”

Jake spent too many countless nights imagining this very scenario, and now that it’s finally happening he can barely even handle it. Everything feels too good and it’s all too much for him to bear.

He pulls his dick out of you entirely, giving himself a few hard pumps as his impending orgasm approaches. It looks almost painful, the way he’s gripping and pumping his cock, how red his tip is, you’re surprised a few tears don’t slip from his eyes when he finally does finish, painting your thighs with his cum as his body trembles.

He rests a shaky hand on your knee, grip on his cock softening as he makes a mess across your panties, thick, white ropes of cum staining your underwear.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbles to himself as he steadies his breathing. He’s never came this hard before, to the point where he feels exhausted and genuinely empty.

“Are you…okay?” You ask, cringing at the sticky feeling between your thighs.

Jake nods slowly, sitting himself up as he tucks his now-softened cock back into his boxers, “Let’s, uh, get cleaned up so we can go.”

His head his spinning as he rises from your bed, a dizzy feeling coming over him as he stands. Fuck, maybe this is why he should’ve waited for marriage.

“Go where?”

“Bible study is starting soon,” he explains, “if we leave now we can stop by Taco Bell beforehand, I need a Baja Blast.”

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

alhaitham and kaveh as 'friends' - full circle

kaveh lying and using ‘his friend’ as a scapegoat for supposedly taking his plans is so um INTERESTING!! given his past references to Alhaitham, and that he was just talked with Alhaitham the scene before, this reads as a direct reference to Alhaitham, meaning that their relationship has come full circle from where we were initially introduced to kaveh

in the archon quest, paimon asks if Alhaitham and kaveh are friends, to which Alhaitham deflects, denoting a negative

but they are denied a friendship status definitively in alhaitham’s story quest where paimon directly asks kaveh if Alhaitham and he are friends, to which kaveh says although they used to be, they aren’t any longer

the game has repeatedly shown that Alhaitham and kaveh possess a deep understanding of each other, only it is their miscommunication and inability to compromise that causes the rift between them. Their character design is based around mirrors, and this ultimately poses the question of whether the two can align their beliefs, whether they can achieve a harmony

overcoming this rift between them begins in a parade of providence, where kaveh’s cycle of self-detriment in his excessive altruism due to his past guilt is particularly focussed on, with alhaitham’s reaction being saddened, and concerned, for kaveh’s mindset – not because his beliefs or philosophies are ‘correct’ over kaveh’s, but because of his belief that kaveh’s mindset negatively impacts him

Alhaitham posits that the issues between them are no longer about the ‘correctness’ of their respective philosophies after looking into sachin’s influence over kaveh’s father, in order to potentially provide kaveh closer, insinuating a more personal reason for the rift between them

It’s after this that a notable shift is seen in their dynamic, with cyno’s second story quest going out of its way to show a flashback in the intimacy of their home, and additionally showing the two voluntarily working together for the first time since their past, abandoned thesis

Their working together demonstrates this harmonisation of not only their personal, scholarly beliefs, but also their reconciliation as people, which can be seen in the two’s closeness, where they previously were separated due to strife – a closeness that is commented on by other characters

In nahida’s birthday event this intimacy is furthered even more, with kaveh wanting mehrak, an important helper companion, to be able to recognise alhaitham’s voice – as of now, this appears to be the only other person, besides himself, whom kaveh has programmed this feature for. Kaveh’s regard for mehrak, established in this scene, then carries over to Alhaitham, demonstrating how kaveh perceives the importance of their bond (i yapped about this more here!)

Going back to kaveh indirectly referring to Alhaitham as his ‘friend’, where this was previously denied, shows a fulfilment Alhaitham and kaveh’s narrative arc :’’’) I am so!?!?! Happy for them well done guys, you got there in the end <3

[gremlingottoosilly]

König x Ballet dancer!Reader?

You passed through years of training. Being accepted into one of the famous ballet schools of Vienna was nothing to snooze about - and you were on track to become yet another nameless swan in the second row. With a shelve life of just about 10 years, your life was set to be a parade of mediocrity from the start. Without a rich sponsor to give you connections and without any of your professors looking at you twice, you exited college with a stable job in the background. Sometimes, accepting scraps being thrown at the main dancers, you knew your place - you ached for dance and beauty, and you got it. This is why a bouquet of blood-red roses sitting heavily in your hands still feels like a dream. The man in front of you is not a normal opera guest. His suit is tailored - not for the sake of showing off the price, but because this man is simply too huge for anything made in-store, no matter how expensive the store is. His suit is tailored professionally and yet, he still looks uncomfortable. A mountain of a man confined into the prison of tight fabric - you tilts your head to the side, wondering what is he doing here. He is wearing a black mask, which is normal for many patrons - especially the older ones, still afraid to die after what happened just a few years ago. You can only see his eyes and you're getting lost in the cold. It reminds you of a mountain snow. Of the white fabric of your dress - and suddenly, you almost feel like breaking your perfect posture. You don't look into the viewer's seats while you're dancing, but you can't shake the feeling that you recognize this heavy stare from somewhere. He was following your every movement while you were on the stage, not caring for the beauty of the front dancer and the elegant movements of your peers. You're painfully average in everything - but his attention never fails to get on you. He is giving you gruff, cut-out compliments. Something about your legs, your hips. Something dirty about the way you look in that tight tutu, and you almost gather the strength to slap him, but then he flashes his credit card, and it feels like a ticket out of mediocrity. Always the second last in the deep row, you never had any fans looking at you like this. With this amount of longing, of depravity. You start getting better roles after he started to show up. You're not sure why and how - he has money, that's for certain, but he definitely doesn't seem like the type to have connections in the industry. If you had to guess, you would see him as working in the military - but no one from Austrian army would have as much influence, not in your country. If you had to guess, this guy is dangerous, and you're almost terrified to see the dark red flash of flowers every time you exit backstage and see him. But, oh, he presses you against the walls and kisses you. But, oh, he can lift you up so easily and force you to grind on his knee in search for pleasure - you have stamina, all dancers have it, and he knows he can go for much longer than with a regular girl. Your affection is bought with compliments and euro bills stuck in your leotard like you're a cheap whore, but you almost feel like a French girl while he is holding you like this. He asks you about retirement. Tells you he would build you a dance studio in his house - something big, with space and perfect light. Give you all the attention you need. You almost feel yourself getting lost in his awkwardness. Little did you know he wasn't really asking.

[avelera]

what would you say are the biggest misconceptions about jayce's and viktor's characters respectively? i see a lot of mischaracterization for both of them, especially jayce, and i wanted to know your thoughts.

Hmm, hard to say because a lot is open to interpretation and I also don't want to rain on people's parades if it's a characterization they enjoy, but two that stick out to me as a couple of my knee-jerk "Who the fuck is this? This isn't Jayce/Viktor!" would be:

"Jayce is Power Hungry" - This one feels incredibly baffling to me. When offered power, Jayce specifically says to Mel, "I never wanted anything to do with politics! You pushed this on me!"

Like, do people just forget that line? Mel then in her character flaw of "always wanting to be the power behind the throne" then initiates one of her most direct and, in my opinion, morally reprehensible instances of manipulation against Jayce by literally whispering in his ear that he can use politics to shape his own destiny. But she includes the fact that he's in danger if he doesn't, and she plays to his male ego by saying others are underestimating him. Game, set, match, she tees up Jayce to pursue power out of self-defense because he was forced into a situation he never wanted, and he buys the bait because he has pretty much no defenses against that kind of power play. (This is, imo, the moment the narrative punishes Mel for the most. First, by Jayce becoming an unreliable puppet she can no longer control and second, when he later breaks up with her over this moment in particular, just at the point where she was feeling vulnerable and seeking comfort from someone she cared for, just as Jayce was vulnerable with her while she was using him, before she eventually fell for him, but I digress.)

Anyway, Jayce is not power hungry. He is very much a victim of circumstance and manipulation and he is clear about that at every step in S1. Yes, he makes use of the power he's given and then a crisis makes it impossible for him to step aside, but once he has a solution for the crisis, he immediately intends to resign. It's maddening to see people characterize him as someone who sought power at any point.

"Viktor is Mean" - I've talked about this one elsewhere, at length, but I see a lot of characterization especially in fic of Viktor being short with Jayce, or whacking him with his cane, or being exasperated him, and genuinely? Footage not fucking found. Not fucking once does Viktor insult Jayce or direct personal comments at him and he has never, ever raised his hand to anyone to harm them.

FFS, even in full villain mode, Viktor's fight with Jayce, the only person he ever engages with in real combat, in the Council Chamber and at the Hexgates is almost entirely dodging and trapping. Even when he grabs Jayce by the throat a couple of times, it's about paralyzing Jayce and stopping him from fighting, basically knocking him out with a chokehold. Viktor is perhaps the least violent person in the entire show, even in his fight scenes when you actually analyze the way he fights defensively and focuses on paralyzing an active opponent.

Look, I understand snark, and I think Viktor has a cutting wit, but it's definitely an instant "nope" for me when I see fics or other fan-takes where Viktor is insulting Jayce repeatedly or in a mean-spirited way, or otherwise raising his hand to others, including the whole idea of him whacking anyone with his cane. It's a squick for me but people are welcome to write whatever they want.

[crescenthistory]

do you write headcanons?? if so, i would love to see your take on how the skittles would react to their s/o walking into a slytherin party looking SMASHING

i do! especially for the skittles, the lomls<3 i have never written for pandora before, but her part came so naturally to me and now i might be in love. so um, thank you for that revelation anon!

characters: barty, evan, regulus, dorcas, pandora

warnings: this will contain implied smut and suggestive material, so mdni please. drinking, hogwarts uni au, slight d/s dynamics if you squint. reader wears skirts/dresses, but no pronouns are used.

how would the skittles react to you entering a party looking your absolute best?

barty

would be by your side in a heart-beat -> no matter where he was in the room when you walked in, the second he spots you, his arm is slung over your shoulders

angles his upper body slightly away from you, though, just enough to look down and truly take in your form

"gorgeous, you shouldn't have"

"thank you"

"no i mean, you shouldn't have, now we have to leave the party before it's even started"

despite wishing to have you all to himself, if you wanted to stay he would be more than happy to of course. he considers it part of the foreplay.

and he would want to show you off 100%

not out of jealousy, but rather pure pride -> i mean look at you

barty doesn't strike me as the type of person who would be jealous over you looking good, it only makes him that much more smug. in fact, i think he would LOVE being able to parade you around, showing the world that this fine specimen is his

if you let him, he would drag you into some corner to properly greet you, making sure to leave marks on your necks where others could see -> again, showing off

will not hold back his flirtatious and even salacious comments throughout the night, especially if there is drinking involved

"you look good enough to eat" with a wolfish grin

"baby you have no idea what you're doing to me"

this man is not opposed to pda, so if you are, you will have to drag him somewhere private regularly, because any visible piece of skin will have his hand and preferably mouth on it the longer you stay, even if you are in the middle of a conversation with someone else

when the night is over, your outfit discarded on the floor and you're both satisfied with celebrating the night, barty would 100% try and put it on himself

especially if it was some miniskirt/minidress number

if he's lucky, you'll grow half as hungry seeing him in the little outfit as he was and pull him back into your grasp

evan

his eyes would find you from the moment you enter the room and would not leave you for even a second

evan is quiet and stoic in his lusting yearning, but that does not mean he is subtle. he's not wolfish with howling like barty would be, but there is something definitively animalistic in how he looks at you

it is a dark kind of look that both consumes and excites you, one where you – knowing him better than almost anyone – can tell exactly what he's feeling

anyone who was trying to converse with him before you entered are now essentially talking to a brick wall. his attention is elsewhere.

he drags his eyes up and down your form, committing the outfit to memory, how it looks against your skin, how it holds your form.

every single detail will be hoarsely whispered in your ear in reverence the second he gets you alone -> you will know exactly what did him in, exactly what you do to him

he's already planning out that interaction breath by breath to keep calm when you waltz up to him

if you take your place in his lap, his arms will be around you in a heartbeat, holding you as close as possible

if you try an tease him by standing above him, he will not hesitate to drag you down to him

feeling his hot skin on yours and seeing his hooded eyes up close would kill any part of you determined on teasing him

you're both in it for the night

regulus

would be absolutely dumbstruck from the moment you enter the room and his eyes lands on you

he had been watching the door anxiously waiting for your arrival, not finding the party nearly as enjoyable as he knew he would once it was filled with your laughter

reg was already imagining a night with you and your beaming smile and perhaps crude jokes, even if they were at his expense, excitement building while waiting for you

exactly what you wanted

when i tell you this man's jaw is on the floor when he catches your figure, all that composition and self-control thrown out the window as his eyes all but ravages you

if he was holding something before he saw you, he is definitively not anymore

after a moment of astounded silence as you just smirk and take in the look on his face, i think his legs would carry him towards you without thinking

his mind only catches up with him when he is close enough to smell your perfume, almost closing his eyes at the comforting scent

"you-" he tries, but sputters over his words, mentally kicking himself – how does the poet not know how to put his feelings into words?

then again, how he feels right now is beyond even the greatest philosopher, that he is certain

"i know baby," you whisper to him before dragging him into a deep kiss

right where you are stood, in the middle of a party with both of your close friends in attendance. a situation that might have otherwise mortified him, but now he can't do anything but groan in gratitude and pull you flush against him by the small of your back

one of his hands gravitates to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling loosely in the strands of hair he finds there

you smile against his mouth at the feeling of him reverent and pliant beneath your touch

this is exactly what you envisioned when you got ready tonight

dorcas

would look you up and down from where she's sitting by the entrance and say coyly "isn't that my skirt, l/n?"

to which you'd of course reply "absolutely. i wanted to return the feeling of seeing me in it. isn't it consuming?"

dorcas is the type to lick her lips and press them together to avoid a smile, but her hungry eyes can't be suppressed

the chase is what dorcas loves the most. there will be no dragging you off to deal with you in private. she will dance around you the whole night, riling you up with her words and actions as much as you're riling her up with your outfit

"all this for me, gorgeous?"

"i will show you exactly how much i love this little outfit of yours"

a hand on your hip with her thumb hooked underneath the hem of your skirt -> not noticeable to anyone as you stand side by side, but it burns embers on your skin

leaning in close to your face with a grin to listen to you talk, eyes anywhere but on yours

leaning in close to your ear, as if she's going to whisper something to you, but instead lightly grazing it with her lips -> or even teeth, if your jewelry allows for it

nails. they're always lightly scratching you wherever she's touching you, not enough to hurt, just the perfect pressure to make you shiver. a promise

you two are never without each other the whole night, doing rounds around the party

except for when a song you two have listened to when in private comes on, and you let your hands trail out of dorcas to walk backwards onto the dance floor and sway your hips to it

you twirl around, looking at her over your shoulder through your hair

dorcas would sweat

it wouldn't take her long to join you out there though, holding your body close to hers as her hands travels all around to truly appreciate your outfit

the world melts away and all you know is just the warmth dorcas provides, the tingling through your veins from alcohol and her attention and her soft lips on yours

luckily, dorcas was ambitious and cunning as per usual, and bribed her dorm mates to sleep elsewhere tonight because that dance floor would be moved upstairs not soon thereafter

pandora

would end up flustering you more in return with how she reacted to your getup than you were able to fluster her with it

i personally often headcanon pandora as ace in some regard, but i also view her as a very observant person who loves to play around with her friends and partners in different capacities

she is amazing with patterns, and when she sees your stunning outfit that reveals more than you normally would dare at a party paired with your sly grin, she understands what game you want to play

and pandora never loses

she would come up to you and greet you sweetly, a hug and a kiss on the cheek -> just barely avoiding your lips, missing them by a mere millimeter and pulling back before you can chase for more

absolute tease

she would drown you in compliment after compliment

specific ones too, she is never one to miss a detail, especially not with you

"those earrings are new, aren't they? you've never worn them around me before, they are absolutely gorgeous. they match your eyes and brings out that lovely smile of yours."

"you noticed?" you would gulp, her own grin just too large and encompassing for your heart to handle

"i notice everything about you, trinket"

oh yes, i think she would layer it on thick with nicknames you might have otherwise grown embarrassed from, but now, paired with the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice, only flusters you more

we're talking trinket, bunny, cookie, honey, beautiful, poppet, crystal, angel, etc.

it is when she adds the my before it that you're truly done for

"you are so gorgeous in this light, my crystal. green really is your colour, i've always known"

you would be the one to grow needy throughout the night, trying to get closer and closer to her, get her hands on you in any way

pandora would just smile wider, knowing she's got you in the palm of her hand - and that means she is the luckiest girl in the room

[ailius-suffers-through-art]

did a redraw of an old piece from an au!

( below is the original. its in bad condition because its sorta been all over the place in the past few years )

but yeah ive been calling it Transcendental Anomalies in my notes so far.

The premise is that Dipper has been having strange dreams after his 19th birthday. Dreams where he finds himself exploring a weird world filled with bizarre rules and horrifying creatures. Oddly enough, he isn't all that scared by the world and takes to figuring out its secrets and enjoying the new experience.

It's constantly raining. Filled with dilapidated buildings. Stairways that crumble and shift under your feet. A 100 step pathway that leads to another dimension. Parts of the world that crumble into the void and are consumed by static. A ballroom dance with shadows.

An upside down clock tower above the void. Endless staircases into the sky and void alike.

Streets crawling with shadows. Black hair leaking out of crevices. Eyes that watch you from holes.

A bus that travels around, taking you god knows where. Tall buildings with elevators. A giant neon red cross always further in the distance. A heavy fog over collapsing buildings. Black torii gates leading to a dark forest. A woman carrying an umbrella whose gaze you must never meet. A parade of tall and lanky men and women twirling down the streets. Gigantic beasts that rise from the void. A library with no top or bottom extending endlessly where bodies fall from the top floors. Festivals of shadows where human flesh and other such things are sold. Red paper lanterns float down the festival lanes and hang from special buildings. A starless night sky that hangs over the world like a black void.

These are only a few of the sights Dipper sees there.

No humans are seen in the world because they are very quickly eaten by the creatures within or they're in hiding. Ghosts and spirits roam the streets. The smart people who visit make sure they dont stay long. The ones who survive dont stay long enough to get found.

At one point, Dipper tries dancing with the blind dancers. This is where we meet our second protagonist, Bill.

Bill decides to come visit the Middle Ground for a while for a vacation from being a menace. While there, he goes to the ballroom to have a hoot and starts talking with one of the blindfolded creatures (in human form since its not the easiest to work around his own triangular anatomy for square dancing).

They swap names and chat as they dance, Bill looking down on the dumb monster as a lower lifeform. Still, he gets curious about what the thing looks like under the blindfold and pulls it up. As one has already guessed, the dance partner was Dipper.

Bill is surprised to find his partner wasn't actually one of the creatures, but puts 2 and 2 together when he sees the birthmark. Unfortunately, he's not great at metaphorical math and just assumes its another demon on vacation. Thinks the guy is pretty dumb for following the rules of this world, but shrugs it off.

They meet several more times in the middle ground, exploring the more dangerous facets of it, until Dipper moves to gravity falls with his sister to take care of his great uncle, and finds he can no longer leave.

as you can probably tell, this au has a LOT and i mean a LOT of inspiration from internet urban legends. if you see something you think is a reference, it most definitely is. i have...... so many gravity falls aus. im still a bit stuck in 2014 gf fandom tumblr. if things dont hold up with the book of bill canon forgive me (I haven't read it yet sadly...) but yeah its a bit trope heavy but i love urban legends and horror stories so i wanted to make a world where all of them can fit together nicely. thats how this came about.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Anniversary challenge.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Prompt: Anniversary | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Eddie Munson Lives, Or Did He?, He Definitely Did Right?, A Glitch in the Matrix, Shifted Timelines, Parallel Universes, Sliding Doors

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks sleepily. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the familiar shape of Steve crossing along the foot of bed, heading towards the window. 

That isn't unusual. If Steve hears a siren, or a dog barking, anything, he crawls out of bed and heads to the window to look. But tonight, Eddie hadn't heard anything. 

"Huh?" Steve responds, from bed, next to Eddie.

Eddie looks again, expecting to see Steve bent over at the waist, looking out the window, but there's nothing there. Instead, Steve's in bed, and has clearly been asleep.

Eddie swallows. Maybe he was dreaming, "Sorry. I think I was dreaming," he says, hoping he can convince himself of that. He looks at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and it's just after three.

Steve chuckles, voice rough with sleep, and pulls the comforter up over his shoulder.

Eddie thinks, weird. 

But then it continues happening. 

All day, he's felt like there's someone just out of his line of sight, and that person seems a whole lot like Steve. Eddie isn't scared, per se. He's unnerved, for sure, but it feels like Steve. Not a ghost or a demon, or anything sinister. 

It's just like a second version of Steve is moving around the house, dancing along his peripheral vision, and Eddie is forced to only observe. 

It's not until later that he realizes the date: March 27th, 2006. 

It's the anniversary of his near death in the Upside Down. That can't be a coincidence. That's the day he was sure he was dying, if not already dead, and then he suddenly wasn't. The bites weren't that bad. All superficial. He barely even needed any medical attention at all.

Dustin had overreacted.

And, yeah, it felt hazy at first, but they all just blamed it on the stress and adrenaline he'd been pumped full of. Blamed it on the near death experience that wasn't actually that near death at all.

And now, he's seeing an echo, a ghost, of someone very much alive. 

There's a glitch in the matrix. 

Like when you see two people, strangers, on public transportation wearing the exact same shirt, sitting one row in front of the other. Only, Eddie's seeing Steve. A different version of Steve.

Eddie does a deep dive on the internet. Decides it's not a glitch in the matrix at all. Instead, he's pretty damn sure he's shifted timelines from the one where he died, to this new one where he didn't, and now they're bleeding together. All these years later.

Steve listens, patiently, and then kisses him on the top of the head, "Honey, I was there. You lived. I promise. 'Twas barely a scratch."

Eddie nods. 

Of course. Of course that's true. 

But he thinks maybe the other outcome was true, too.

Shadow Steve is getting more vibrant, and now Eddie can follow him around the house. Not really able to look at him straight on, but if he keeps the corner of his eye trained in his direction, he can see him for longer stretches.

He's the same, but different. 

Quieter, sadder. More alone. 

And there's no Eddie there. Eddie is 100% sure of that. 

He's gotta do something about this.

Eddie's sitting outside of Nancy's office when she comes out of the door.

"Eddie!" she says, surprised, but happy to see him. He's about to rain all over her parade.

"I'm dead. I'm in the wrong timeline," he says, and her face falls. She reaches out, and puts her hand on his forearm.

"C'mon," she says, and he gets in her car, and looks down at his hands.

"What's going on?" she finally asks.

"I'm seeing Steve, in the house," he explains, and she raises an eyebrow, and he laughs, "Not that Steve. Not my Steve. But he's there, too. He's good," he promises. Because he knows she'll worry.

"Start from the beginning," she urges, and he does. Telling her everything.

"It's just a glitch in the matrix," she assesses, and he shakes his head.

"It's not. It's too frequent. It wasn't a one and done deal. It wasn't a trick of the light, or a shadow. He's there. Just outta my sight. Like he's in a parallel universe."

"And you're sure it's Steve? Not something Upside Down-related?"

"It's Steve. I'm not scared of him. Because it's Steve."

Nancy follows him all the way back to Hawkins, then sits on the bed beside him. 

"Eddie," she says, and he shushes her. Taking her cheeks, forcing her to look in the direction he wants. It doesn't take long.

"There!" Eddie says, and Nancy gasps. 

Fuck. He was kinda hoping he was just losing his mind.

"You can see him?" he asks.

"I can see him. Barely. Out of the corner of my eye. It's definitely Steve."

Eddie sighs, "Told you. What the fuck do I do now?"

Steve can't see him. Eddie can. Nancy can. Robin can. Dustin can.

But, Steve? He just can't.

Nancy thinks it's because it is Steve. The same Steve. Just minding his own business in another timeline, that's now somehow bleeding into theirs. 

"Do you think this is lingering weirdness from the Upside Down?" Eddie asks.

"If it is, we should get El," Dustin suggests, and they all agree.

El takes one look at him, "That is Steve."

"Yes, we're aware," Eddie says, "how do we merge the two?"

"You cannot."

"Can we at least close the damn curtains?" Eddie doesn't want to keep seeing this Steve.

El thinks about that, "Maybe."

She forces Steve to hold her hands, and while reluctant, he's willing. For Eddie.

It's quiet, then Steve says, "Oh, whoa. That's me." Then, "Tingly."

And Shadow Steve fades away. Disappearing, like he'd never been there.

"Is he okay?" Eddie asks. He doesn't want any version of Steve to disappear. 

"Yes. Now you cannot see him. Not gone, just invisible again."

"Out of sight, out of mind?" Eddie asks. 

She nods, "Exactly."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[dyeher]

You should have known this would be boring.

The dress is affectionately (according to your husband) named after you. Elegant but simple and something you’d definitely consider an ‘easy access’ dress with a slit that runs the entire length of your left leg and up to your hip.

You couldn’t wear panties with this dress, and the longer Mitsuya parades you through the dimly lit ballroom and introduces you to his designer friends the more aware you become of the fact that you’re not wearing them. You’re his model tonight. Wearing one of his originals and charming the professionally styled toupees off rich, old bastards.

“I’ll give you anything you want if you do this for me.”

Famous last words.

As it stands the dress does provide easy access. And when you tug Mitsuya into one of the private bathrooms and tell him exactly what you want you don't know which one of you is more thankful for his design.

“Shit,” Mitsuya hisses. He’s trying to go slow, trying to be gentle so the sound of your fucking doesn’t echo in the spacious room. But you’re determined to unravel his control. The heel of your shoe digs into the exposed skin of his ass as you try to draw him closer with your legs.

“Fuck me properly,” you whine. “Need it—please I—”

He cuts you off with a large palm to your mouth. “You’ll take what I give you,” he pants. His suit jacket is sprayed across the marble countertops and Mitsuya has caught the bottom of his dress shirt in between his teeth. The unobstructed view of his cock as it disappears into your tight little pussy leaves him a little delirious.

You try to say something against his hand and Mitsuya gives you a short glare. He thought you’d at least wait until you were home before throwing yourself at him but he can’t exactly blame you when he hadn’t stopped you.

And the way you’d whispered what you wanted in his ear. ‘A baby’ as though it were an expensive handbag that he could simply buy. As though it were something so easily attainable there needn’t be any preamble about it. Flattered by your confidence in his ability to pull through he’d let you drag him—stunned as he was and almost gaping at your satisfied grin—through the crowd and to the second floor where no one would disturb you and proceeded to beg him.

And Mitsuya is a weak man in general. But made even weaker by your nervous fidgeting and doe eyes he’d simply hoisted you onto the counter and proceeded to fuck you. Proceeded to give you exactly what you want. Egged on by your throaty ‘thank yous’ and breathless ‘wanna make you a daddys’ he’d barely restrained himself from hauling you out of the building and taking you home.

And now as he cums for the second time, he takes a shaky steadying breath, preparing himself to pull out and convince you to get back to the party. But the obscene squelch as his cock pulls free and some of his cum dribbles out of your pussy has you both groaning. The sight is enough to have his spent cock twitching.

One more, Mitsuya tells himself. Just one more time and then you’ll return.

@audrinui mwah!

[statementlou]

https://www.tumblr.com/louisupdates/754934426217152513/goodbye-faith-in-the-future-world-tour-272024?source=share

did he or did he not lose fans then?

I will answer this because this anon actually brings a concrete question to the table rather than just "hurhur but you're a larrie??" (tell me you can't actually refute any of our points…). Anyway this post shows the decrease in Louis instagram followers between the screenshots taken directly after the release of Faith in the Future in Nov '22, when he changed his bio to promote that album and the tour tickets, and now, when he changed it again to mention the current release. But I'm putting that response under a cut because I'm tired of the actual POINT of all this nonsense getting lost in a sea of made up things people insist are important:

There is no rational argument you can make to say that Louis has less fans now than he did 2, 4, or 6 years ago. You don't need a spreadsheet of details you need to USE YOUR EYES! He has gone from filling theaters to filling arenas and stadiums. His second album made a higher chart position than his first album. His festival has doubled in size EVERY year of its existence. And for that matter: his insta post engagement numbers remain about the same (despite the fact that older posts should have way MORE likes due to having been there longer, even aside from follower counts.) SO WHO FUCKING CARES ABOUT HIS INSTA FOLLOWER NUMBER???? Serious question: what does the word "fans" mean if these things aren't what matters? ALL of this quibbling about what he should do to make things better and people can't even see that THINGS AREN'T BAD.

Anyway to address the specific question- (con't......)

NO- HE DID NOT LOSE FANS. HE LOST SOME INSTA FOLLOWERS. THESE ARE NOT THE SAME THING. As I said above, literally what does it mean to lose fans if that number change coincides with him having higher sales, more audience members, and higher engagement than ever before? Whatever he lost ISN'T FANS. I wouldn't be surprised if a significant factor was something like a bot purge, but also yes: I'm sure a lot of casuals followed him around the time of his big album release and later unfollowed him. That's extremely normal because that's how casual engagement works, and why the definition of fan really matters. Louis and his team understand this and have referenced it repeatedly, talking about how lucky he is to have *us* specifically, to have the kind of dedicated fanbase he has, to have the KIND of fans he does who will allow him to do what HE wants. @dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram named the issue of depth vs breadth with regard to fans a long time ago, and pointed out why having DEPTH is so much more important. It's like this- artists who are on top 40 radio have more numbers on things like insta follows, and for a time on sales and tickets. But those aren't FANS- they're people with a casual interest. And as soon as that person isn't being forced in their ears 10x a day, those people lose interest and stop supporting them, stop buying stuff and unfollow, and those artists end up doing the 'opener on the jingle ball' circuit rather than their own tours. One Direction as a whole, and Louis maybe most of all or near to at this point, have something MUCH MORE VALUABLE than that- DEPTH FANS. Louis has fans who will support him even if he takes years to release music, or stops parading around with a pretend girlfriend to stay in the headlines at least once a month, or completely changes his image and genre, and that is UNHEARD OF. It's ASTONISHING and worth SO MUCH MORE. And they get that! THAT is why he always bragging about us, why industry people he works with are always so agog about us, why he will do anything for US- not for randos. He is also growing his breadth- and it's OBVIOUSLY WORKING whatever his follower counts are, but that is always going to be secondary to doing things for THE FANDOM because that is his sustainable business model. That is what keeps him onstage and reaching number one. And not coincidentally, the things they do are also working to grow that- much more valuable- commodity. So the fact that that's exactly what these chuckleheads complain about- that he does things that are just fandom facing or serving rather than everything being aimed at recruiting casual fans- does nothing but betray how completely they, unlike Louis and his team, misunderstand the actual drivers of his (actual, existing, happening) success. Luckily for Louis, he and his team rely on their own data harvesting (they do a LOT of it) and growth metrics (they're off the charts) rather than the smug assumptions of random (mostly quite new to this) fans and the few bitter people leading the complaining about everything Louis does.

[wonwhilebeingyoung]

Kyoto Jujutsu High School Headcanons based on the interview with Gege Akutami:

Potential traitors and their reasons to side with Kenjaku (Putting aside Mechamaru, obviously… and thee Aoi Todo, gege said himself he will never do it, respect my man Todo!)

TW: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ANIME ONLYs, don’t read this if you don’t wanna get spoiled ‼️

LIKELY TO BECOME THE SPY/TRAITOR

NORITOSHI KAMO

Reason: Wants to be the head of the clan and get his mother to live with him so he can protect her and give her an easy life.

- I feel like he’s easy to manipulate if he hadn’t had that talk with Itadori during the baseball game. Kenjaku might make a deal about killing Noritoshi’s biological father and make him the head of the clan in a faster way. I think, he will have some second thoughts about it because his classmates/friends will be involved in the scheme but he will push those feelings for them aside and prioritize his mother. But soon, he’ll probably regret it (not his father getting killed, cause he does not gaf, but betraying his friends) when he found out his mom has another family and home where she’s happy at and doesn’t need his protection after all.

KASUMI MIWA

Reason: Lives a poor life and has two younger brothers to sustain.

- It’s gonna be hard cause Miwa my girl is too sweet and kind but… like Noritoshi, Miwa is also easy to manipulate, but will have some second thoughts… although she will hold it for longer time but i feel like she’ll finally do it out of desperation to sustain her family when she can’t rise up the ranks as a jujutsu sorcerer. I feel like her breaking point would involve about her younger brothers getting mistreated for being poor (based in the jujutsu phantom parade). The deal with kenny would come off as… get her into a high ranking position as a jujutsu sorcerer or just give her loads of cash, but yes maybe she’ll regret later on for betraying her friends.

MAI ZENIN

Reason(s): Forced to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer by her own sister & probably(?) will try to persuade her sister into quitting in jujutsu sorcery.

- I have a vision Mai has the strong potential to be a traitor because well, she was literally forced into a life she didn’t want. She was abandoned by her sister, broke the promise and not only that, she was pressured by her family that she needs to be better than Maki. I feel like she’ll side with him out of anger and pettiness towards Maki and it’ll happen if Kenny ever met Mai before she enrolled to Kyoto Jujutsu High. I know for a fact Mai didn’t deeply hate Maki, but she just felt betrayed by her cause of the broken promise. Mai still loves her sister obviously, she’s just too prideful to show it, so she acts strong into letting Maki think that she’s fine without her. Also, don’t forget, not only Maki wanted to become a sorcerer to prove her family wrong and spite them, she did it to give Mai a home where she can feel safe. What if Mai does this in reverse where she will be the one whose gonna protect Maki and make her quit into becoming a Jujutsu sorcerer, but then again, knowing half of Maki’s goal which is to become strong and spite her fam, it will likely cause conflict cause not only Mai is a spy for a curse user, Maki is gonna feel like she’s being brought down by Mai and she’s going to hate herself for making her sister go to the wrong path.

MOMO NISHIMIYA

Reason: Will do it for Mai.

- I haven’t thought about it throughly what will be Momo’s reason… but i think she will do it for Mai cause she definitely cares for her, she literally knows how Mai was mistreated by her own family and how much it affected Mai for being abandoned by her own sister. Based on the second light novel, Momo really dedicated her role as a senior and friend to her juniors. So, i think she will do it for the sake of Mai’s happiness and comfort.

YOSHINOBU GAKUGANJI

Reason(s): Eliminate Yuuji Itadori and Satoru Gojo.

- This man’s face and motives says it all. Stuck up traditionalist (yep) but had some redemption later on during Gojo vs Sukuna sure. But if it was before that, his reasons with siding with kenny is to kill Sukuna’s Vessel and Gojo Satoru. For Gojo, the old fart probably thought that Kenny in Geto’s body is still the real Geto out for revenge against Gojo (that old btch doesn’t know Geto and Gojo’s relationship i fear). He might think they’re on the same side to bring Gojo down but Kenny’s too smart not to fuck up against thee GOJO SATORU, cause that’s gonna be sukuna’s job. Of course, it’ll also be hard for Kenny cause that wasn’t part of HIS plan… he’ll probably find some way to debunk killing his son and Sukuna :3 this sounds messy but it the only reasons i could think of for this old fart.

MEI MEI

Reason: … Money, Duh.

- I put Mei Mei here cause i think she sometimes teaches in Kyoto hence her close ally with Todo or just promotes the sorcerers in general. Mei Mei is a freelance sorcerer, so no zero doubts she will do it for the cash *kaching* 💰 kenny will just pay a higher amount than Gojo and that’s it. Besides, i think she has the greatest asset to be spy, her Cursed technique duh, so yeah most likely she will do it.

UNLIKELY TO BECOME THE SPY/TRAITOR

UTAHIME IORI

Reason: I have no idea.

- YALL!! I’m sorry, I literally cannot see this woman becoming a traitor tbh, she respects herself too much and has high morals. What y’all think Gojo trusted her more than Mei Mei in finding the traitor when he could just bribe Mei Mei into doing it (i don’t ship gojohime im sorry, Utahime’s too good for him… she deserves someone better *shoko).

ARATA NITTA

Reason: I also have no idea.

- If y’all don’t remember him, he’s the blonde first year who thought Todo and Yuuji are actually related, the one who accompanied Todo to save Yuuji from Mahito, the one who got Nobara’s corpse and said to Yuuji it cannot be guaranteed that he’ll effectively heal Nobara (… ha ha, Gege when i catch you Gege). I’m sorry but this dude was introduced so late and we don’t have enough info of him? He’s just a healer who’s willing to help and has the personality and design of a butler. So yeah, idk.

Note: This sounds so messy and might be ooc to other’s point if view, but i got so shocked when Gege addded that information— so, it’s just my insights and headcanons.. i’m sorry ‼️ also, yes kenny is kenjaku’s nickname tee-hee :3

[sophiacloud28]

Vent piece, AU, Rise Leo, Angst

It’s cold in here. Even in pants, sneakers, and a hoodie, the chill of the planetarium still eats at him a little. He’s okay with it, though. It’s not quite enough for brumation, which is the important part. He doesn’t need to completely lose track of everything. He just needs… peace.

And, as he lies across the floor while staring up at the star-covered ceiling, he’s sure he’s found it. He’s certain that, if only for a moment or two, he is finally allowed to rest. Finally able to think of something else than his work, his constant running around, his never-ending parade of personas. Hell, he can almost feel himself drift into nothingness as the light music he hears cradles him to near sleep.

It's always nice, always comfortable, always –

He blinks as he hears rustling. Someone sits in a chair in front of where he’s lying on the floor. And while he wants to call it an accident, his nostrils tell him it's not.

The scent of subtle soap and warm skin. The rustle of pants as legs are crossed and brought apart again. The chair squeaks at the attempt to settle in it, but nervousness is keeping its current occupant from getting comfortable.

He wishes he could say the same. Unfortunately, the cold has a good grip on him and while he’s not brumating, he definitely feels sluggish.

Not that you’ll attack him. You have no way to defend yourself save for a can of pepper spray — the thing smells absolutely vile — and from the presentations he’s seen you give, you don’t have a mean bone in your body, which just… helps.

“Want to stay for the video?”

The thing that impresses him is the way you’ve just… made this look as casual as possible while letting him know several things.

One, you know he’s there. How you caught him when he always takes for the grates the second you have a new group is a mystery — there’s hours, a schedule, and he’s got it all down — but you did. Second, you’ve known for a while. The lack of inflection in your tone indicates experience and redefines your nervousness as one of casual approach. Three, … he just wants to turn his brain off. He wishes he couldn’t understand or care about how an employee knows about his presence and hasn’t called the authorities yet. He knows he could deal with them, certainly if he were a little warmer, but this? This goddamn circus? He’s here to get off work, not…

He sighs. Shuffles. He owes you an answer. He just…

“Knock on the back of my seat for a yes.”

He looks up, away from the stars to you. Your back is facing him, then again he’s in a weird position that puts his head near the seat. He could say nothing, not even knock and watch you squirm. He could crack a joke, say something that might make you laugh or groan as he attempts socializing.

But right now… he just can’t be assed.

He reaches up and knocks against the plastic. You just say thank you and stay there for a bit longer before you get up to rummage for something near the projector. There’s shuffling in the chair you were just seated in before he hears you take off for the doors.

Time for the next group. He wonders if he should stay. If he should do what he usually does and skedaddle before anyone notices there’s a bum on the floor. But when everyone steers clear of the seat, therefore him, he has to wonder what’s going on. What you did to manage it so that, when the lights fade out and he hears rustling, he knows it’s you.

You don’t speak. The video is a speaking one after all. It does make him wonder, though. Even long after the video’s done and he’s left to stare at the stars again, he wonders what just happened and if he should care. He’s not complaining, though, not after getting to finally see the visuals, albeit from an interesting angle.

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It doesn’t stop him from returning, either.

It’s been a week. He’s debated whether or not it’s worth risking his neck, his family’s neck over someone knowing he’s using the planetarium as his way to relax. He’s wondered if he shouldn’t tell the fam, or at least his little brother, to make sure it’s safe.

But that would mean letting everyone know. That would mean having to deal with that mess and he honestly… doesn’t want to.

He's tired. He’s done. His brothers, even his dad, have completely drained him dry of anything he could remotely care about. So he goes without hesitating.

He navigates lunch hour and watches the shift change. He flinches as your loud coworker laughs and jokes, reminding him of himself in the most obnoxious way. So much so that he half-wants to punch them for being so annoying. He waits on the floor instead, though, and is grateful when you join him the second they leave, leaving him to knock on your chair.

This behavior is more befitting his twin. He doesn’t care.

“Sorry for that. For what it's worth, the next group should all be teenagers, so no crying children.”

He knows. Presentation hours are for classes. Field trips. And while you don’t necessarily struggle during them, depending on the class, it can get disgustingly loud. Even when teenagers are involved.

He knocks on the chair again. You laugh a little before sighing, “I’m sorry I have to ask you to go. I am getting a break later on, though. If you want to stick around until then, I’ll be happy to show you some interesting features.”

And the tridactyl hand he’s been using to knock on your seat grips his hoodie as he thinks, debates.

He shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. No matter how innocent you are, the mere knowledge of who he is could ruin your existence and his. He’s not here to make friends.

… But the company is nice.

His hand hesitates for a second longer before he knocks. You then hush him away and he goes to the vent where he watches you work and barely get to breathe when you get two classes back to back. And he quietly lets himself in after all the hubbub, laying on the floor as you sit with a breath into the chair he knocks on.

The fact that it gets him a chuckle almost makes him smile. The fact that hears you tap the seat next to you worries him.

“Come on. Best seat in the house,” you tell him, though, and while it doesn’t convince him, it does make him move, make him join you even as the seat creaks under his weight. It has him making sure that you can’t see his face or his hands as he sits next to you. Not that you seem to care, though, as your eyes are fixed on the ceiling and your hands fiddle with a small contraption you immediately bring forward and click on once he’s there.

The lights turn off. The domed ceiling goes from evening to night, showing the stars. And, with another click, lines start drawing themselves across the artificial sky, connecting the stars into groups and images slowly appear, making him blink.

Constellations. He’s heard you talking about those. But thanks to the light pollution, the most he’s been able to spot are the brightest stars and, if he’s lucky, the Summer Triangle. Now, he’s finally able to see them.

He almost gets up. He doesn’t. The moment feels too sacred to break. You seem to notice the shift, though, as he can hear you smile when you speak.

“This is the Greek one, which was eventually taken over by the Romans. There are more, though. The Babylonians had an incredible star chart they left behind, explaining what they saw and why it was important to them. The Mayans had one also, and it's been suggested that other Central American cultures might have either used the same map or had their own variations to it. The most interesting one, though, is the Asian one. Western influence was scarce, so their system works very differently even today."

… Ah. He gets it, now. It's almost funny, too, and enough to make him smile. Make almost reach out in the hopes that you understand that you either don't need to share or that he's grateful. He can't do either, though. No matter how much the world wants to think that there's space for everyone, the fact that he's underground, that the Hidden City exists tells him otherwise. He can't let himself do anything but speak, and breaking the silence feels like blasphemy.

"… Thank you."

He still does it, though. Not for his sake but yours. You need to know he appreciates it, even if some of it is going completely over his head.

"No problem."

Because it's worth the softness that invades your tone. Even if it requires more effort than he has energy for, the payoff gives him just a little more than he thought he'd be given. And he likes that. God, does he.

"Anything you want to see?"

"The star map without the images?"

Because if this is all it takes to get this to work as you click and the images disappear, then he's more than willing to try.

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

Unfortunately, winter does not seem to agree.

Brumation becomes a problem. His hoodie is no longer enough, but wearing anything else might hinder his movements in the vents. He can't afford to lose the agility, but he knows that, if he's not careful, he might knock out.

Something you seem to notice as well.

Within a month of winter starting, he finds a blanket waiting outside the vent. His careful thanks only get him even more wrapped inside the surprisingly thin yet cozy fleece blanket as you fuss over him while never once looking up as he's asked you to. It doesn't help that every time, you simply smile after he tells you that he's comfortable, tapping a hand against his plastron.

"Good. Wouldn't want you to pass out."

Which only reminds him of what he's doing and how… he's treating this entire relationship.

No doubt you're getting bored. Annoyed, even. Not that you've told him as such and he doubts he'd ever hear you complain, but he doesn't think he's being fair in any way, certainly considering that he's been keeping this up for weeks.

He doesn't hate you. He hopes you know that. It's just… he comes here when everything is just too much. And you pampering him… is just part of it, now.

"Hold?"

"Yeah."

You joining him on the floor between presentations as he buries his face into your side. Him whimpering, trying not to chirp or do anything that would sound remotely strange as he lets you talk about whatever planet has caught your attention or whatever paper you're working on this week. And you chuckling, even laughing sometimes as he does or tries to either give you advice or ignore you. It's all part of the thing that makes him feel a little better, a little stronger by the time he leaves. It's all part of something that makes him feel safe even if he barely says anything.

Because by the time he gets to you, there's nothing left for him to give.

The silence as his eyes burn almost deafens him. He feels you move and almost refuses to let you get away only to realize he's too weak, too slow thanks to the cold to hold onto anything. The cold, the sluggishness he'd fought so hard to find becomes his enemy as you disappear and reappear to help him up and out the doors, your blanket covering him up like a cloak to cover his face. And it's not any better when he steps outside and winter stakes its claim on him and the only thing he can concentrate on is your voice.

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The amount of research you have to ingest in the following hours is insane. You figured something of the sort was going to happen, certainly with how closed off he was being, but you'd hoped to avoid any catastrophe involving your new friend.

Alas, from the way he behaves, you should have called this. From his self-destructive behavior, you should have known that he would drive himself to hypothermia, leaving you to figure out how to sort this mess. And that unfortunately means no more secrets.

… You think it's hypothermia. When you see the green skin and the three-fingered hands, you're no longer sure. Certainly when he's not shivering and the only thing that helps are the red crescents near his eyes and under his blue mask.

Blue mask… Where the hell is he from? And does it matter when this is probably going to ruin your relationship? He thrives on secrets and you… Well, you just ruined a whole lot of that trying to save his life after he broke, didn't you?

Either way, he's safe. He'll be alright in a few hours. He just needs to get to a decent body temperature, which he is safely getting to while bundled up in your bed. He seems to have an internal body temperature, after all, just… one lower than yours.

Part of you worries as you try not to hover. The other knows better and simply keeps you busy with making dinner, and you can't be happier with the meal you chose as you let the pea soup simmer. You work on making something warm to drink along with it, too, hoping that he'll be okay with some Chai.

Then again, after an hour, you wonder if he'll be alright in general as you dare enter the room with the food and drink on a tray.

You can hear him breathing. That's much, much better than earlier. The fact that he doesn't really acknowledge you doesn't surprise you, either. If anything, the fact that he's looking at you as you set the tray down is the biggest anomaly. He doesn't follow you. He has too little energy to even begin caring, which you can't blame him for. So this — this is new. And concerning when he doesn't sit up upon seeing the food.

Guilt? A need to hide? The mask and the fact that you've never seen anything of him until now tell you it's the latter. He might not have had any energy, but he did keep you from something, likely only draining him further. It's why you hadn't fought him when he'd asked for your presence on the floor. He needs it, craves a presence he doesn't have to explain everything to. And you have been for the past three months. Something you find absolutely heartbreaking.

"I made some soup and chai. Hope you like it."

And more heartbreaking still is the way he grabs your wrist as you attempt to leave.

You turn to him. Let him pull at your wrist and have you sit on the edge of the bed. He does not let go, though, instead nearing you and settling against your back, curling up there with his shell to the door.

Even if he didn't refuse your offer of getting on your lap before you sit on your bed so that he can, you know it's for protection. It's not the first time he does it, either, even if it's completely unconscious. He cares. More than he lets you or anyone else know. And you're almost willing to bet that's what's breaking him.

He loves. He's just… so tied up in whatever else he has to do that it's not showing properly.

You carefully, sweetly touch his head, something he welcomes with a stretch of the neck and a quiet whimper. You smile as he relaxes, using your lap as a resting spot, and tears no longer in his eyes. He doesn't sleep, not quite, but he chirps, trills, and nudges your hand if you so much as stop petting him. Like a cat, he refuses to let you go until he's had his fill and you're honestly very much fine with it, certainly when, after enough coaxing, you manage to get him to sit and eat.

In fact, the only thing that bothers you is his phone the second it starts ringing, prompting you to fiddle with his hoodie and collect the phone to see who it is.

Another turtle. This one red and massive. Raph is the name on screen. Doesn't stop you from wanting to throw the phone across the room or shutting it down before you resume feeding and petting the one you know to be a slider.

They're supposed to be tolerant to cold. Resistant to brumation. You wonder how badly he's been worn down for this to happen. You also hate the fact that it's making you feel almost violently protective to the point where you want to lash out at the other turtle for treating your friend like this.

… Maybe you should have taken that call. Just to know his name. Then again, you don't want to ruin the trust between the both of you, no matter how little there is. He is at his weakest and he doesn't need to be tested further.

"You think you're up for a warm bath now that you've eaten?"

Besides, from the nod you feel against your shoulder, you have other ways to communicate with him.

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

He doesn’t fight you. He doesn’t do much of anything, actually, as you scrub him clean. He only blinks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time once you’re done. He only lets you help him out of the bath and halfway back to your room when his hand lets go of yours and he — he looks away as if caught doing something, being somewhere he shouldn’t be.

“Where — where’s my stuff?”

And you realize why very quickly.

“Your clothes are in the bathroom and your phone is in my bedroom.”

“… Did I… get a call?”

“You did. From someone called Raph. I didn’t pick up.”

He’s awake. He’s coherent. His brain has finally caught up.

“… I have to go.”

And his thoughts and words hurt more than you’re comfortable with.

“Go get your clothes, then. I’ll go grab your phone.”

He looks at you with doubt, but turns around and heads back. You enter your bedroom and collect the blue jacketed phone before walking back to the bathroom where the slider is slipping on his hoodie, having already worked through his pants. You set said phone on the sink where he can see it as he works on his shoes next, unsurprised to hear him soon babbling to someone about trackers and getting someone off his ass for something. What surprises you is the tone. It’s animated, filled with a dramatic drawl and flair you had yet to hear from the slider. It’s nothing like you’ve heard, and it makes you realize just why he’s so drained, certainly when you hear “big bro” from his lips.

You cover your mouth. Your eyes burn. He ends the call and leaves your bathroom before anything else can happen, though and, just from the smile that meets you, you know you can’t cry.

“I’m afraid I gotta go. Someone’s breathing down my neck and might break the building if I don’t get going.”

There’s no point in it, after all.

“I’m… sorry I kept you.”

“You’re fine, sweetheart. Things just happen you know?”

“I guess. Do you –?”

“I know my way out. No worries.”

You’ve already lost him.

He gets to your living room where he takes to your window instead of your door. You feel your face hurt as you watch him expertly jump onto the sill.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Will I see you again?”

And it near contorts in pain as you watch his face, his persona break for a second, an instant in which you get your answer.

No. You won’t. You will never ever see the slider again. He’s no longer safe with you, and it has nothing to do with you.

“We’ll see.”

You watch him jump away. You feel your heart break. And you wonder if you could have done anything differently… while knowing there was never another option.

[okikeu]

BIJOUX

SIX. betrayal of the banana

written — 960 words

warning: mentions of drowning

There were two things that Heeseung's friends made fun of him for more than anything else:

1. He was a band kid in high school.

2. He couldn't swim.

The latter was one he had been able to hide for nearly 17 years—if not for Jake and his stupid Sweet Sixteen at the beach, he'd probably still be parading around as a fraud. Sure, he'd always tried to learn, but his legs never moved in tandem with his arms, and within 45 seconds, water would be filling up his lungs.

Yet, Heeseung still found himself at the lake ten minutes down the road from his, Jungwon, and Riki's shared apartment nearly every day. Especially on days like this one, where his heart was weighed down with longing for the one thing he couldn't have:

Bananas.

His local gas station never ran out—never! It was like they always restocked right when Heeseung locked his door on his way out, as if the anticipation in his chest could be heard beating a mile away.

So, without his primary source of happiness, Heeseung returned to his hideaway.

Jake was blowing up his phone that sat abandoned on the rock next to him. The vibrations shook his leg every minute or so, but the orphic view made up for it.

The faint buzz of odd insects littered the grass beneath him, accompanied by birds of all kinds conversing above. Heeseung's attention settled on the soft swoosh of the water, where frogs hopped across lily pads and leaves fell from branches to be whisked away by the relaxed current.

It was beautiful. It was his very own sanctuary, away from all worldly disturbances—

"Stupid fucking brand deal!"

Or not.

Heeseung whipped his head around at the noise, his focus quickly settling on a woman stumbling into the clearing.

She adorned a fancy, businesslike suit that Heeseung had only ever seen on social media, and was very clearly not made for trips to a lake.

Though he felt bad for staring, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman as she ripped off her blazer and threw it somewhere off to the side to be swallowed by the tall grass. As soon as her arms were free, she bent down and grabbed the largest rock in her vicinity, chucking it into the water a second later.

"I hate you Shin Yuna!" She screamed into the vast nothingness behind the glorified pond, her hands cupped around her mouth. "Well, maybe not you but definitely your company!"

The woman picked up another rock to abuse the water surface as another message from Jake came through, this one tipping Heeseung off of the edge and involuntarily forcing him to reply (i.e., shut Jake up).

Easy-to-ignore splashes rippled through the air as Heeseung typed away. As his friend grew more and more desperate for his return, Heeseung decided to leave his haven to this mystery woman and head over to Jake and Sunghoon's place.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Heeseung jumped off the boulder he was resting on. He wanted to sneak past the woman to allow her the same peace he had, but fell short when the woman was no longer there at all.

Heeseung shrugged, continuing on his way. The path of rocks clicked together beneath his soles, and as loud as they were, they still couldn't mask the cacophony emerging from the water behind him.

He hooked his chin over his shoulder just in time to see the sun catch on the woman's bracelet before her arm fell below the water.

Before her arm fell below the water...

Oh, shit, she was drowning.

There were many things Heeseung was prepared for in life; Witnessing someone drown and the gas station running out of bananas were not on that list.

But he couldn't exactly...leave.

Placing his phone on the ground, Heeseung ran into the lake, silently praying that this woman was comically short and was drowning in water that barely reached his waist.

She was not.

Soon enough, Heeseung's feet no longer touched the dirt ground below. He kicked and kicked, his hands doing nothing but trying to reach out to her, until his breath was locked behind a paywall and his calves burned against the freezing lake.

A piece of sunlight cut through the surface of the water, illuminating each individual jewel on her bracelet, one that looked strangely similar to the one Jungwon had claimed from his gym floor.

What mattered more than the diamonds and distant familiarity, however, was the fact that it was clasped so tightly between her fingers. With what Heeseung assumed was the last push he had in him, he clawed his hand through both of their struggling splashes and hooked his knuckles around the jewellery.

He tugged it closer and closer until the woman was under his arm, and before he could drown too, Heeseung found his footing beneath them and pulled them back to the rough shore.

He dropped her immediately, landing on his hands and knees as he coughed out all of the intrusive water taking up space in his throat.

The woman did the same beside him, rolling over as oxygen reclaimed its rightful place in her lungs.

When she fell onto her back once again, Heeseung sat up, ready to put on his best saviour face—

"Fuck you."

"Excuse me?"

But before he could condemn her audacity, her eyes snapped shut and her head lulled to the side.

A name tag was somehow still fully clipped to her belt, so Heeseung flipped it over to at least know the name of the woman he'd—regretfully—saved.

At the bottom of the pink-bordered, laminated employee ID was the printed name: L/N Y/N.

masterlist | prev | next

SYNOPSIS. The fashion industry is difficult, so when the CEO of Korea's finest, luxury fashion brand, Le Désir, loses the most important ambassador of her career, her life is pretty much over. That is, until she finds a face that makes her previous fumble look like a simple marketing scheme.

taglist! @heeheesang

[cheetabites]

☆ ~ meet me on the beach

pairing: coral x district 12!reader summary: daydreaming always brought the possibilities of what you could’ve been. warnings: fem!reader, second person, reader kinda takes lucy gray’s place, jessup and reader friendship, mix of things from the movies and books, not much romance but a little bit a/n: yes guys i’m a coralbaird shipper

when she’d first confronted you in the cattle truck after her and the others had an unwelcoming encounter with your mentor you’d felt an overwhelming desire for her.

it might’ve been your desire for something that’ll keep you from spiraling into the deep dark hole you were in or it could’ve been that you felt it was unfair that such a beautiful tribute would be one you would have to be against soon.

even when she was threatening to kill your mentor you didn’t once interrupt her, obsessed with the bloodthirsty smirk held on her face and the crackling of her knuckles. the only thing that ended up interrupting your adoring gaze was the back of the truck shaking, a chute unceremoniously dumping all of you onto the ground of the monkey enclosure.

-

you had stayed closer to jessup through the hot days and the cold nights, cuddling up together for some sort comfort. even when the brandy girl died and you and the others were heavily chained it didn’t stop you. it also didn’t stop you from taking glances at the captivating redhead that strayed even closer to her district partner.

but the days were growing longer and your bodies weaker; despite your mentor - coriolanus - bringing you food whenever he could. yet whenever you slipped away and deeply thought about it, even though on the surface his intentions seemed genuine, deep down you felt that he was doing this to gain an advantage - for what, you didn’t know.

however, the only capitol citizen that had caught your attention was the muscular but otherwise kind looking boy that had brung a huge bag of sandwiches (meatloaf if you remembered correctly) and plums. you could sense that he was seemingly different than coriolanus, never outwardly bringing the attention of the crowd and broadcasters to show that he was being a good person. only doing it because he wanted to.

you honestly wouldn’t have minded being his tribute rather than coriolanus’.

-

the only way you were coping was by daydreaming. your imagination ran wild with the thought of escaping with the other tributes, with coral. maybe up north, you could find a place and learn to live with what you had together - connecting in a way that you’d wouldn’t have been able to because of the separation of the district borders and the threat looming over all of your heads.

but you knew that wasn’t plausible after seeing the district 10 girl hanging from the crane while you were paraded in a cage during the capitol girl’s funeral. it wasn’t plausible when you heard the bullet shells clang against the arena floor as districts 1 and district 2’s tributes got gunned down after running. it wasn’t plausible because no matter how hard you hoped, you couldn’t develop any more of a platonic or romantic interest in the others because in a few days your hands could be tainted with their blood.

but that logic definitely didn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster when you felt her eyes on you, even when her gaze was predatory. or the blush that would take over your cheeks when she came a bit closer to you than she should’ve - even if she was just passing to grasp one of the offers from the crowd. and it definitely didn’t stop jessup from noticing, your shy smile more than enough of a hint of what you could possibly feel towards her.

“did you really have to lay your feelings for the district 4 girl,” he whispered softly towards you, ignoring your objecting nod, “don’t give me that bullshit, this bite may be deluding my senses but i’m not stupid.”

you fidgeted with your fingers, “i know, with the situation we’re in it’s probably not the best idea to get all love sick. and i know that i just..i don’t know? i can’t stop myself from wanting her, jess.”

he nodded in understanding, “i’m not saying you can’t go for it but..sooner or later one - or both - of you would end up dead.” there was a pause as he considered how to lay down the next words, “plus, she seems very determined to win so i don’t even think she would be open to your feelings..”

your face fell but you knew jessup was right, “yeah, i know. but thank you, for worrying about me. i’m happy that i was stuck with someone as kind as you in this horrible circumstance.”

he laughed with whatever energy his body had left, “yeah but it would be funny if you two did get together. you’d be some sort of star crossed lovers.” a smile appeared on your face as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

although, never knowing that despite your careful whispering, hidden in the dark was the short haired redhead who was shocked at your revelation. if not also a bit smug.

-

the day had finally come, a multitude of dread, fear, and nervousness radiated off of all of you as you were placed on the red markers; just minutes away from the gong ringing. weapons lined up on the cornucopia waiting to be stained with blood.

you knew your plan, despite your mentor’s advice you’d planned to grab one of the weapons before leading jessup to the tunnels. anticipation weighing heavy on your chest as you waited for the gong. and as soon as it sounded you ran as fast as you could into the bloodbath.

initially you dodged most of the others that came for you, only getting a bit knicked before quickly swiping a fair sized combat knife quickly tucking it away before searching for jessup.

once you found him you quickly escaped into the tunnels, running from whoever decided to target you two. the doors were locked but you were able to escape through the small opening at the bottom, just seconds before an axe came down on where your foot rested just moments before. gasping in relief as you heard the displeased banging on the other side.

“hey lumberjack, get in there and get her out,” her voice echoed through the tunnels. “i’m not sticking my head in there, she could be waiting with a brick.”

she scoffed, you could tell she was already impatient with them, “you’re useless.” the tunnel went quiet, and as time stretched on you assumed they were either leaving to hunt some other unfortunate soul or camping outside the door to ambush you once you got out.

averting your attention you gently patted your shoulder, allowing jessup to lean on you after noticing the prominent dark eye bags resting on his face. trying to ignore the adrenaline that felt too good, spiraling through your chest.

-

you didn’t remember falling asleep, and you almost cursed yourself for doing something so stupid until you realized you were temporarily protected by the door closing you in. there was a stir against your shoulder, alerting you that jessup must’ve woken up too.

he definitely looked dehydrated; fatigue shown on his face pairing with what you could remember the occasional twitching coming from him. so hoping to relinquish that, you gently cupped some water from the nearby source, holding it up to his face. barely making it to his chapped lips since he hurriedly slapped your hand down, leaving you a bit confused and scared.

“jessup?” you looked towards him, only to see his dark eyes staring at you. “what’d you do to it?”

you backed away from his intimidating stature, fear coursing to your veins - knowing if he did turn on you, you could either run or use the sharpened knife you held in your boot. “i didn’t do anything!”

sensing how this was going to escalate you dived down to the opening you had gotten through the day prior. not wasting any time in escaping the tunnels as - what you now realized - a rabid jessup hastily chased after you.

you had climbed up one of the elevated pieces of debris, knowing - hopefully - in his haste he’d probably loose his balance. but eventually there wasn’t anywhere else you could escape to.

yet it seemed like you had some outside help, the objects flying overheard now proving of that. another obstacle that jessup would have to face to get to you.

as it booked straight towards him the unreliable drones had broken the bottles open, the water splashing from the impact, making jessup react horribly. not even realizing the tilting of his feet until he’d fell smack down onto a piece of rubble.

you quickly looked down in both shock and horror. and for a moment as you watched you could see jessup’s body release all the energy he had before, it slipping away like the white foam trailing down his chin.

you carefully got down to where he was resting, scared but you knew he couldn’t hurt you anymore. his slow blinking and shallow breaths were the only sign of him being alive, although you knew he was slipping away fast.

“it’s okay jess, you can rest,” your shaky hand gripping onto his, wanting him to at least know he wasn’t going to be alone in his last moments, “how can you dream if you don’t sleep?”

his hand gave a brief squeeze in recognition since his mouth couldn’t do the job for him, him tilting his head to get a better view of you even if it was just for a second.

silence rang as you watched him take his last breaths, shakily sighing before closing his eyes. you pulled out a piece of ripped clothing you stored in your pocket, taking it to the puddle of water to soak it before cleaning his face; wanting him to atleast have one last piece of kindness.

only seconds after would your world spin, a certain redhead ready for your blood.

-

she’d decided that using your momentary vulnerability would be the best to get rid of you, not to mention after hearing your little confession to your district partner she knew you’d (most likely) wouldn’t be willing to hurt her. but underestimating always brought a person down.

you heard them before you saw them. you tucked the makeshift cloth under jessup’s hand before pulling out your combat knife. yet no matter how fast you ran there was always one to stop you in your place; the little one mizzen, the cowboy from 10 and the lumberjack from 7. not to mention the dangerous woman wielding a trident being the most eager.

luckily your speed and the aftermath of the drones crashing against their bodies buyed you enough time to escape. hoping that this would be the last time you’d encounter them like this.

-

you could sense her following you as climbed up the rubble, wanting to get as far away from the winding bodies of the holographic snakes that were out for blood. you only had gotten a safe distance away before she collapsed at your feet, the snakes wrapping around her arms and neck as they sunk their venomous teeth into her skin. a betrayed look on her face. “it’s not fair, it’s not…i couldn’t have killed them all for nothing.”

the feelings you felt so strongly when you first saw her returned. the ultimate defeat you and her both felt in the moment left you with clarity. so you tried your best to grip onto her hands, pulling her up so she rested on you.

even as more snakes came for her you tried to fight them off, pulling at them but stopping when you heard the pathetic whimpers leave her lips; the strong front she held till now disappeared.

“i’m sorry for what i did,” her voice was weak but she fought her hardest to get it out, “for hunting you.”

your eyes crinkled as you listened to her. “i’m sorry that we had such little time with one another and that we never got to experience more together.”

she fought against the venom as she pulled up her head from your chest, “i’m sorry that we couldn’t have gotten together like we both wanted.”

you gently pulled her head so it rested back on your chest, lips skimming across her forehead since it’s the last opportunity to do so. “we can still be together if you just promise to wait for me.” her eyes slipped closed as you whispered the last words, “just wait for me on the beach.”

and as coriolanus watched the other side of the screen, an astounding buzz rang through the room, your profile being the only one that was standing.

-

a/n: the snakes didn’t attack reader cause y’know snow cheated and made sure she’d win :3 (sorry this was so late. i appreciate everyone’s patience!)

[mdhwrites]

Considering you've criticized Owl House for trying to give Amity and Hunter abusive homelives for explaining their antagonistic behaviors initially and praise Amphibia for not trying to give Sasha having bad parents for her behavior, what do you think of how Zuko's redemption on Avatar the Last Airbender? Considering they also do the redeemed person had a terrible homelife with him having an abusive father in Ozai, what did you think of how they did Zuko?

Zuko is AMAZING. The big difference between TOH and Avatar with this arc is easy too: Avatar doesn't use it as an excuse and they don't brush it off. It's merely where everything began for Zuko and changing from that point is HARD.

Zuko always had a choice. He could always give up the quest for the Avatar and live a peaceful life. Even Iroh is pushing this from literally episode 1. It is Zuko's choice to chase the concept of honor that his father and his culture pushed on him. We feel that scar on his face by his determination. We feel the priorities of the fire nation by him constantly trying to prove himself. By trying to go alone to prove he's strong or do what he thinks will bring him honor.

It takes an ENTIRE BOOK for Zuko to start even questioning this stuff. We understand the weight of his decision to cut his hair and try to just live peacefully with Iroh because we saw the struggle he had to even consider giving up the warpath. It's not even easy for him then as he still wants to resort to the old ways and constantly has it reinforced what those old ways cost. The fear it put in people. The pain his culture has brought. It constantly reinforces the question that Zuko eventually has to answer: Is the Fire Nation's definition, and by extension his father's, of honor actually honorable? Is it the definition he wants to live by.

And then arguably we get the most important part of his arc... His 'victory'. He gets that parade back home. He gets everything he has wanted for so long. The only price he has to pay is that he will never have any other definition of honor than the Fire Nation's. And that is no longer a definition he desires and so despite having love, family, stability, etc. like that, he leaves to do good, even if he himself knows that it will be hard because he is so trained and used to being bad.

The length, dedication, questioning and cost of his arc are all deeply compelling. The show doesn't hold back on the fact that he was genuinely a member of the fire nation and what that meant.

Besides their first appearances... When do Amity or Hunter feel like a product of the Isles or their parents? Amity admittedly gets ONE more with Covention but that's it. Both of them very, VERY quickly give up on even the concept of being villains (Hunter at the START of his second major appearance, before anything has coerced him to think otherwise, is already rebelling against Belos teaching by looking into wild magic) and what is the price and actual arc of turning good for them? How difficult is it for them to actually get away from the lessons instilled upon them?

I already mentioned Hunter but Amity first brings up her parents in Understanding Willow where she talks about them controlling her friends and the like... And then immediately embraces Willow back into her fold as if her parents won't care. Two episodes later, she will destroy her ENTIRE friend group that her parents put onto her. Then, her NEXT APPEARANCE after that has her parents make their first proper appearance and... Then Amity, in an episode she's barely in, rejects them outright because Luz is pretty. It's not that she condemns their morals, how they look upon life, etc. like that. It's just "Hey, I'm being selfish too because I want my own friends." Which with how she entirely ignores actually trying to reconnect with Willow for half a season comes across much more like it's purely because Luz was going to die. Either Gus or Willow and she wouldn't give a damn. She'd get to console Luz then! Because Luz is all it took for Amity to change, it came easily, and it's all she cares about afterwards.

She NEVER loses it like Zuko does during the first part of Avatar's finale because Zuko actually cares about something. He is going to push back on them because he didn't change for Aang or Katara, he changed for himself. He is still the same person with that diehard fire in him that isn't gone just because he's a good guy now.

Hunter has a lot similar complaints but with much more of the severe need to address his moral issues. After all... How many witches did Hunter murder as the Golden Guard? Or led to their execution? It makes Amity's active choice to bully Willow for YEARS when she didn't need to seem almost quaint but both facts are swept under the rug just as easily. It's why one could claim the Golden Guard is not the same character as Hunter because they both require severely contexts to FUNCTION.

But we cannot do that. Hunter did take away people's rights. He did hunt them down. He was a member of the Emperor's Coven. He held its beliefs as fact... And we never see them question those beliefs. The closest is Hollow Mind where he spends the entire time telling Luz she's wrong, even as facts are presented in his face until proof that Belos will kill him is presented to him. At which point, the decision isn't "I don't believe in your ideals and regime, I'm going to rebel" like Zuko's but instead "Oh fuck, I'm going to DIE if I don't turn good." In fact, it's the opposite case for Zuko because the boy was effectively guaranteed to live a cushy life if he DIDN'T turn good.

And so once again, we have another turn to good that happens too easily, too quickly and mostly selfishly AT BEST. Even when Hunter fights of Belos' possession, it's all about how it's nice to have friends and have fun rather than, you know, it being wrong to persecute an entire class of people just because you don't like them. In neither case do the characters act like they've actually changed or learned anything. They were just flipped to good and that's that.

I also might not be so butthurt about it if not for the amount of TIME this stuff takes and how TOH itself takes itself so seriously so often. It obviously wants to have these arcs be a good deal and is willing to spend an exorbitant amount of time on them, to the point where they start causing Luz to not have time to spend with characters like King or Eda, and yet they're also not exploring anything. They're not saying anything. It's just... There. On the most shallow level.

So yeah, if I haven't made it clear: I don't dislike the trope of bad parents leading to bad children who are eventually redeemed (in general, I think there are VERY few tropes that are inherently bad). There's a lot that can be done with it and it is a good explanation for how a young person can be so angry. You just, you know, actually have to do something with it instead of using only the surface level elements and expecting to be rewarded for it. Worse yet if you try to pretend that it took literally agency from the character when they clearly weren't actually that indoctrinated to have a lack of free will or so much fear as to not consider any other option.

And no, I don't blame the shortening. By Eclipse Lake for Hunter, and WELL before S1 even finished for Amity, both characters were obviously already 80% of the way to good people, if not already there for Amity. The show just had no patience and no willingness to explore its own concept and that ALWAYS sucks. It's the worst part of the writing for My Adventures With Superman too. *sigh*

So yeah, don't scapegoat, actually explore your concepts and don't erase your characters during their redemptions. Then maybe you can try to claim to have a character as good as Zuko.

======+++++======

Grain of salt here: Some of this is second hand because honestly, a rewatch of Avatar doesn't sound like a bad idea. It's been a while to put it mildly BUT just the structure of Zuko's arc is infinitely better than how most people do redemption arcs honestly so I think the thoughts still stand despite that.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[odessa-castle]

For the 500 words thing, apologies if it's longer than 500, feel free to cut off wherever

At last, Ravengard raises his arm. Astarion turns to the side out of reflex, shielding his face with his hand. All these years, Cazador sneers in his head, and still you cannot muzzle that mouth of yours. Must I do it for you?

Ravengard doesn’t strike him. He brings his hand nearer to Astarion’s face, the tips of his fingers an inch away from one of Astarion’s stray curls. “Perhaps I have been foolish,” he says. The heat is back in his voice, but it’s contained, simmering below the surface. “I was too quick to assign fault to Wyll himself for his conduct. But the source of this sickness – this madness – comes not from within him, but within you.”

Dread curls in Astarion’s gut.

“I should have known from the moment you were paraded in front of me,” Ravengard continues. His hateful eyes rake up and down Astarion’s body. “Yours is a dangerous beauty.”

A familiar, flat buzz builds in Astarion’s ears. He remembers that Ravengard had – not seemed immune to Astarion’s particular appeal, that night. The thought produced no sickening lurch in him then. Well, nothing beyond the usual, at least. It does now. Each passing second crawls across his skin. He feels himself begin to step halfway out of his body.

Ravengard’s fingers brush that loose curl of hair now, toying with it. “I can see how Wyll might have been…so taken in.”

Astarion slaps Ravengard’s hand away before his mind catches up with him. He – gods. He’s not permitted to refuse this. Not under any circumstances. Cazador would flay him open for it. For all he knows, Ravengard might do the same. He searches, desperately, for some trace of Wyll in his father, the smallest scrap of that man he’s come to – to admire. To –

“Whatever you’re thinking, whatever you’re imagining right now –” he begins. He stops. Swallows. “It would be rape. No amount of coin could change that.”

And at that, Ravengard retreats. He inhales sharply, shaking his head as though to clear it. “No, I – no.” He props his clenched fist on the table, refuses to meet Astarion’s gaze. “I would not do such a thing.”

Astarion doesn’t know which of them he’s trying to convince. He’s not inclined to salve Ravengard’s conscience, either way. He affects an air of aloof dignity, studying his nails, but can’t fully ignore the tremors in his hand.

Oh boy. This is arguably Ulder’s lowest moment in NLTS thus far — “arguably” because, well, that whole thing where he banishes Wyll, but there were principles behind his decision there. Not the right ones, and despite what he might have been telling himself, not the only and/or most merciful choice he could make under the circumstances! But Ulder’s treatment of Astarion here is pretty skin-crawling! Yes, Ulder backs off once Astarion makes it clear that he doesn't consent, but it says a lot about how Ulder views Astarion that Ulder...assumes Astarion's body is for sale under these circumstances. This isn't the most violent objectification Astarion experiences over the course of NLTS (that would be Chapter 14), but it's still violating.

I spent a while thinking about whether I wanted the scene between Ulder and Astarion to take this particular turn, because while NLTS doesn't paint the most flattering picture of Ulder, I've never wanted him to come across as beyond any hope of redemption in the way that, say, Cazador is. Ulder is abusing his power here in a way he doesn't recognize until it's pointed out to him, because well, a lot of men in power (and I will say men here specifically because irl this behavior is very much a Patriarchy Thing, and the dynamics of masculinity are a significant part of NLTS) don’t question the social rules that prop them up in the first place.

And Ulder is definitely trying to put Astarion in his place here. A prostitute doesn’t get to weigh in on how a duke treats his heir, or how a father treats his son. Astarion is, at the end of the day, a thing to be bought and sold, and Ulder is concerned that Wyll doesn’t recognize this obvious truth.

To Ulder’s (perhaps limited) credit, he’s genuinely ashamed of his behavior here, and ultimately takes Astarion’s point to heart that he’s grown distant from his son — the same way his own father grew distant from him. But as a lot of people pointed out, “I would not do such a thing” is a lot more about Ulder's self-image than it is about Astarion's personhood. This commenter summed up the scene so well:

It’s giving Promising Young Woman. It’s giving a man whose image of himself is more important than whether he does fucking anything to be like that image. It’s giving “if you needed someone to fucking spell it out for you, you absolutely fucking WOULD have done such a thing.”

And yeah -- if Astarion hadn't spoken up (and he was taking a huge gamble by even doing so in the first place), Ulder likely wouldn't have stopped. And it's real fucked up that preventing his own rape ends up falling on Astarion's shoulders here. I think this is also the first time in NLTS that Astarion directly acknowledges, either to himself or others, that what happens to him on a regular basis is, in fact, rape. He's just that used to not even thinking about his own capacity to consent, or that his consent is a thing that matters and needs to be asked for. In a way, the fact that Astarion says no to Ulder here makes it all the more meaningful that he says yes to Wyll later in the chapter; he is, in that moment, genuinely declaring what he wants.

A fair number of folks said that this scene had them worried, and well, that's what I was going for. The threat to Astarion is real here, and it's not quite the same experience of threat that he constantly lives under with Cazador. Cazador is a flagrantly immoral sadist. Ulder thinks that everything he's doing here is morally justifiable, until Astarion tells him as bluntly as possible that it isn't. There's a certain kind of danger that comes about when people in power assume that they are just people, and that their actions must therefore also be just. A lot of evil comes from people who think they're doing good.