#This is probably against the lore BUT it made me laugh a little so it's worth it

[worldyea]

from an art request on tweeter

[lorelune]

hi lore! for your game, oliver aiku + oil stains!

ohhhh bitti tempt me TEMPT ME!!

oliver + oil stains

(minors dni // situationship reader x oliver)

you awaken to a warm hand running up and down your spine. lingering a little too low for your sleeping body to ignore any longer, you crack an eye open. gold bathes the bedroom, cascades over rumpled sheets.

the hand drifts to the base of your neck, squeezing there.

"good morning," oliver hums. "i can tell your awake."

shifting, you groan into your pillow. even tilting your hips just a little... hurts.

"let me sleep." you kick at his legs weakly. "i deserve it."

"oh?" he sounds pleased. "why's that?"

"you broke me. my bones hurt. let me rest."

"i made your bones hurt? wow, maybe i should pat myself on the back."

"you're the worst."

and yet, you're tucked in his bed.

you're not sure... when this started. for the longest time, oliver (politely) kicked you out after your hookups. he has practice, or at the very least a workout, every morning, and having you linger disrupted his routine. that was the excuse, anyway, but you always understood that he was more than likely telling you to scram because that's his preference following a hookup regardless.

you can't blame him; you didn't then.

but, at some point, you started staying the night.

the first time, he fucked you so well and long and stupid, that you were barely lucid by the end of it. you fell asleep against your will and by the time you were roused, you had still felt loopy and out of it. you came to with oliver rather gently cleaning up between your thighs. he told you to use to the restroom and then come back and crash. there was a spare toothbrush in the bathroom for you.

it's weird, oliver really got more attentive after that.

now... this is a thing. you stay the night, like you're his partner and not the his favorite random fuck.

(it's weird too because you know oliver used to have others in his bed besides than you. you can't say for certain if that has changed.)

"i am, aren't i?" oliver laughs, good-natured. his voice is rough and ragged from the night before. it's unfairly hot and you hate the fact that your probably-still-puffy cunt flutters around nothing with the sound. fucker. "maybe a few more minutes then, as a penance."

you hum, burying your face back into his pillow. you are tired.

oliver settles behind you. it's his preferred position. you can feel that he's damp, which means he somehow snuck out for his morning practice without waking you. it's a considerable amount of effort and thought to show you. it makes your guts twist.

"what were you wearing last night?" oliver asks, breath warm against your ear.

"lingerie," you remind him with a huff. "you tore it off me, remember?"

"oh, i did, didn't i?" oliver sounds far too pleased with himself.

"you better pay me back for it."

"sure, sure. but, i didn't mean that. i meant on your lips."

"my... lips?" it takes you a moment to recall.

you were wearing some pretty makeup. the kind the smudges out under your eyes when you get teary from the insane way in which oliver undoes you. the unholy things which he can do with his cock usually make you cry, at least a little. you've noticed he likes when you look fucked out, smudgy and satisfied by the end.

"lip oil." you tell him. it was a new brand for you, the shade a lighter than you normally wear. juicy and a little more natural looking.

"is that different than lip gloss?"

"somewhat. it's a little more... slippery, shinier."

oliver taps his fingers next to your head, you feel it against the pillow even with your eyes closed.

"'think it stains?"

that makes you rise, just enough to prop yourself up and look down at the pillow you've been glued to.

sure enough, streaked across the pillow case is half-formed prints of your lips. dappled in pink, smeared against the cotton. from when oliver had you on your tummy, fucking into your from behind, pinning you to the bed with a hand braced on the back of your neck.

you flush; you can't help it.

"i can wash that it for you—" you barely keep yourself up on your elbows. you want to bury yourself in the sheets and hide.

oliver doesn't let you. he guides you by the jaw to look back him.

he's... so smitten. so satisfied and smug and fucking smitten. the smile he wears is so intensely pleased with himself as his thumb runs under your eyes, undoubtedly over your still smudged makeup.

"no need." he presses over your bottom lip. "i'm thinking about framing it, what do you think?"

"oliver—!" you groan, and before you can admonish him anymore for teasing you in your state, he kisses you.

it's different than it was in the beginning. those first moments of intimacy were meant to serve a function. extinguish those shared, carnal urges that begged to be satiated. there was passion there, of course, oliver is a good lover even when he isn't dedicated or all that caring about the other person.

but now?

oliver kisses you like a lover. his head tilts just right and he cradles your jaw to follow his rhythm. he delves into you with a nip and a swipe of his tongue over your lips. you're helpless to this version of him, the version he has started to grow into. you moan against his mouth, leaning back, craning your neck for more—

he breaks from you, only to mouth at your neck.

"get your extra sleep." oliver tugs you closer by the hips. "i'll make breakfast when you wake up."

"i'll need to shower." you're a particular brand of filthy given oliver's treatment of you and your sex. you've been dripping him for the past six hours.

oliver clicks his tongue, "aw, without me?"

"i didn't say that."

"aren't you sweet."

"keep that tone up and it will be without you."

oliver laughs. he seems content regardless of your thorns. you think he likes them, actually. you're showing more of yourself to him, more sharp edges and less manicured rounded bits. it feels natural as your entanglement continues to change form.

and for better or for worse, you like showing yourself to him. you like seeing him too. the exchange is still comfortable and you'll enjoy it while you can.

(even if you can feel the fleeting nature of it transmuting, albeit slowly, into something richer. the type of feeling that can fill your chest guiltlessly.)

for now, you give him a kindness. you crane your neck back to press a kiss to his stubble and revel in the rubble of contentment that echoes from his chest. he presses into you, arms tightening around your waist—

like he really, really wants you there.

[teojira]

Just a thought! Godzilla who tolerates human and mothera who absolutely adores the human and wants to keep it like a little pet is so funny to me

[I want a baby. We are two titans.] [Headcanons]

Summary: Mothra has a soft spot for you and Gojira takes it upon himself to see you, a human. He will not fall victim to your charms.

Word count: 700+

Pronouns: Gender neutral!

Warnings: None that I can possibly think of! Do lmk if I need to though!

A/N: First Goji and Mothra request!! Thank you so much!! I hope these are okay anon! Kinda made it to where it's the set up lore for this request bc that's where my brain took me lmao.

You're not particularly of note, you're nothing, sorry to say it special. No secret heritage, no secret connection to Monarch before meeting the moth titan, but when you find yourself face to face with her, you feel calm and safe.

She's radiating warmth and comfort and quietly as she can squeaks at you, trying to bid you closer to her.

A bad idea really, extremely bad idea but she just looks so soft and loving, so you walk up to her and gently rest a hand on her head, running your fingers through her fuzz.

It's clear She's very sweet on you, she can't always be by your side, having to do her duties as the queen of monsters but she will visit, she also somehow knows where you are at all times.

After the first encounter, Monarch realized they could use you to help locate her so you now have a decent cushy life as the Mothra whisperer among the two twins, the Ziyis.

Dr. Chen is absolutely fascinated to hear about your connection to Mothra, she's one of your main friends in the company who comes to visit you often.

Mothra never lingers for long, but she comes by to visit and rests with you awhile, allowing you to pet and climb on her if you wish, though she makes panicked noises if you accidental stumble, she doesn't really have alot of arm to catch you so girl is NERVOUS.

You're her little human, she'd hate to see you get hurt, regardless if she knows she can fix it.

Goji knows where Mothra is going, to see a human, and he's very against, trying to growl and grunt his point of view to Mothra, but she will have none of it. He rolls his eyes and thumps his tail, trying to emphasize that it is a bad idea and it'll get her hurt.

Mothra has never listened to a man and will not do so now, so she continues her visits with you, coming to him smelling of human.

At this point, he's gonna come see you himself, Mothra is beautiful, caring and a more peaceful titan.

Goji is not, which is why he has no issues with breaching the water next to the Monarch base and coming to find you.

He does take SOME care to not needlessly destroy everything around him, staying in the water and just standing there menacingly as fuck, everyone freaks the fuck out until Mothra follows him, resting on his back, her appendages wrapped gently on Gojis scales.

That's when they figure to send you out, neither Kaiju are attacking, but they know very clearly of Mothra's soft spot for you, so it's a insurance that she'd step in against her husband if he goes rouge.

So they send you out, you humming a village song that Dr.Chen taught you, alerting Mothra of your presence.

She flaps her wings excitedly, leaving her spot on Goji to get to you, her wings enclose the two of you, her way of giving you a hug.

Goji grumbles but gets closer, moving to lay his chest on the ground so he can get a good look at you.

You're so, squishy looking, kinda stupid looking as well, with your big eyes trained on him in fear.

He brings his snout closer, his breath making your hair blow around your face.

Mothra let's out a noise, probably a warning to her King to not do anything stupid.

You can see his visibly roll his fucking eyes at her and then he trains his eyes on yours, directly making eye contact.

He then exhales, the gust of wind knocking you over from the force, he laughs. He honest to god LAUGHS AT YOU.

You can't help but laugh back, from nerves and the fact that he seems so eerily human in this instant.

Mothra slaps him with one of her arms, shaking her head at him, speaking in a language you're sure only exists between them.

Goji uses the tip of his tail to give you something to prop yourself up against, you didn't scream of fear, he hasn't been shot at yet, he figures you're alright, for a human.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Lost With You

Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Summary: getting caught in a storm with your sweet boyfriend

Warning: FLUFF, kissing, swearing probably, gn but use of 'sweetheart'

700ish words

A/N: little gif drabble, not proofread all mistakes are my own

You had set out for a hunt in Minnesota earlier in the morning. Sam was out of commission due to hurting his leg on the last hunt, so that left you and Dean to deal with the latest pop up of werewolves alone. Even though you hated seeing Sam hurt, you'd be lying if you said you minded the alone time you were getting with your boyfriend. You loved the long drives with Dean; it felt freeing being with him, windows rolled down blasting music.

At this point the sun had long since set and you had been driving most of the day, aside from the occasional food or gas stop. You had hoped to make it to the motel and get some shut eye before scoping out the town in the morning. Driving down a stretch of backroads, everything was going as planned until the sky suddenly decided to unleash the most intense rainstorm you had ever seen. The sky darkend even more and the droplets pelted the windshield so hard you couldn't hear the radio anymore.

"Son of a bitch, the bottom really dropped out didn't it," Dean said clicking on the brights, not that it helped.

After a few minutes of struggling to see the road and losing the reception on the GPS, Dean pulled over onto the side of the road. As good of a driver as he was, he knew when to throw in the towel. Right now he couldn't see more that two feet in front of the car, had no idea where he was going, and he was not willing to put you or his car in danger for the sake of making it to the motel.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while" he turned to you.

"Where even are we?", you asked pulling out you phone to see if you had any reception. To no avail.

"Honestly I have no idea" he said with a humorless laugh "But get comfy, I don't think it's clearing up anytime soon". He turned and reached over the seat, digging into one of the duffel bags and pulling out a few lore books.

Turning back, he tossed one to you before resting his back against the door and started flipping through his book.

After about a half and hour of reading, you started to lose focus. You were tired physically and tired of researching. Your eyes drifted up to your boyfriend, you couldn't help but admire how he looked right now. It was pitch black outside, but the glow of the dashboard lights illuminated the side of his face, bringing out all of the contours of his face, the curve of his lips, the soft freckles on the bridge of his nose. You loved him so much and it was moments like this that made you realize that all the more. Moments like this where you were able to make the best out of the worst situations; together.

You're definitely staring and now he's looking at you. "What?", he asks wondering why you're staring at him with a peaceful smile on your lips.

"What?" you echo softly, sounding dazed and tried.

"You're staring" a teasing smirk graces his face but he can tell you're still lost in thought.

For another moment you look into his eyes, losing all sense of reality and you can't help but reach over and cup his cheek. There's a brief look of confusion the crosses his face before he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch.

"You ok?" he asks eyes still closed before opening them to gauge your reaction.

"Sometimes I love you so much it overwhelms me."

You said it so genuinely that Dean was taken aback. He didn't really know how to respond to that and if he thought about the weight of your words it would probably make him cry. Before he could think about it, he was reaching for you.

"C'mer," he said tossing his book into the floorboard and pulling you to lay between his legs with your head over his heart.

You sighed contentedly, nuzzling you face into the warm flannel lining of his jacket.

"I love you too, sweetheart", he said pulling his spare jacket over you and rubbing his hand up and down your back.

He looked down at you and could see that you were teetering on the edge of falling asleep. "Let's just stay here for tonight", the rain was still coming down heavy and he was pretty sure he was too tired to find his way to the motel.

"Ok," your voice was muffled by how your face was hidden in his shirt.

Dean smiled down at you and felt sleep tugging at him too. He settled back against the door, feet propped up on the bench seat with you laying on him, and thought that, in the grand scheme of it all, there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right here. Lost with you.

[pretzel-box]

Hello :D can I make a request? I want a Sebastian x Fem!Reader (Y/n is a prisoner here) where Y/n finds a friendly little Squiddle and takes them with her. Sebastian and Y/n act like parents to that little Squiddle XD

Tags: Established Relationship, adopting a Squiddle, might not be lore accurate Squiddle description, lots of fluff

Words: 1,7k

“SEBASTIAN!” you screamed, crawling through the cramped vent as quickly as you could, panic evident in your voice. The metal walls echoed with the frantic sound of your limbs scrambling against the sides. Sebastian glanced up from the file he was reading, his expression blank at first, but then he heard the aggressive thud of your limbs against the metal, a sound so loud and desperate it made him pause.

He shrugged, dismissing it as another of your dramatic entrances, and returned to the file he was holding. He'd gotten used to your flair for the theatrical, especially in this godforsaken place.

“SEBASTIAN!!” Your voice came again, even louder this time. It didn’t take long for you to come bursting out of the vent, hair in a wild tangle and eyes wide with fear, looking like you’d just seen a ghost. You didn’t bother standing up; instead, you lay there, half out of the vent, panting heavily as you stared up at your boyfriend.

Sebastian chuckled, still amused by your frantic state. He shut the file with a swift motion, a smirk playing on his lips. “Sup, my starfish,” he greeted lazily, leaning back in his chair. “What's got you all riled up this time? Did a wall dweller nibble on you again?” He chuckled at his own joke, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

“THERE IS SOMETHING SQUISHY ON MY LEG!” you screamed, your voice filled with genuine panic. You stared at him with wide, pleading eyes. “TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!”

Sebastian's smirk widened as he slowly got up from his comfy pose in the corner of the shop, taking his sweet time just to tease you. "Something squishy, you say? Well, that's new," he drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe it's a new type of wall dweller, hmm?"

Sebastian sighed dramatically, leaning back to view you in another perspective and crossing his arms over his chest. "Something squishy… he repeats, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. "What, maybe you stepped on some jelly or something?"

"Sebastian, this isn't funny!" you snapped, voice hitching with fear as you waved your leg around, trying to shake off whatever was clinging to it. “Just help me, okay?!”

He laughed again but finally knelt beside you, his curiosity piqued. “Alright, alright, let’s see what’s got you so worked up,” he said, reaching for your leg. His fingers moved carefully, prying away the tiny creature that was latched onto you.

As soon as he got a good look at it, his teasing grin softened into one of genuine surprise. "Well, would you look at that," he murmured. "It's just a baby Squiddle." The small, black, squid-like creature squirmed in his hand, its tiny body wriggling and writhing. Its eyes were wide, and every few moments it made a bizarre, creepy face—likely an attempt to be intimidating, but it just came off as awkwardly endearing.

You blinked, staring at the small creature, your panic beginning to ebb away. “A… a baby Squiddle?” you repeated, half in disbelief. “That’s what was on my leg?”

Sebastian chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, looks like it must have gotten separated from its group and found you instead. Probably thought you were a safe place to cling to.” He gently held the baby Squiddle closer, its eyes continuing to shift into odd, creepy faces. “Poor little guy’s just scared out of its wits.”

You sat up slowly, peering at the tiny creature now cradled in Sebastian’s hands. “It’s… kinda cute,” you admitted, your fear giving way to a hesitant smile. “In a weird, creepy sort of way.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, amused. “Cute, huh? That’s a new one. Most people would have just flicked it off and run away screaming.”

You nudged him playfully with your elbow. “Well, I was *this* close to doing that, too, if you hadn’t noticed.” But then your expression softened as you looked back at the Squiddle. “But… I mean, look at it. It’s just a baby. We can’t just toss it back out there.”

Sebastian's smile widened, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. "So, what do you want to do with it? Should I toss it back outside, or should I put it up for sale in the shop...?"

You nodded, more confident now. “No. I mean, it’s lost, and it’s scared. We can’t just leave it out there to fend for itself. Besides,” you added with a small smile, “I think it’s already taken a liking to me.”

Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, if that’s what you want then we can adopt it,” he said. “Looks like we’re adopting a Squiddle.”

You grinned, reaching out to gently stroke the top of the baby Squiddle’s head. It made another creepy face, but you just laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Welcome to the family, little guy,” you said softly.

Sebastian watched you with a fond smile, his earlier amusement replaced by a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. “You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “you’ve got a good heart, starfish. Most people would’ve just freaked out and tried to stomp the poor thing. But not you.”

You blushed, looking away shyly. “Well, I guess I’m just a sucker for things that need a little love,” you murmured.

Sebastian leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And that’s why I love you,” he whispered, his voice warm and sincere. “Now, come on. Let’s find a nice little spot for our new friend, and maybe figure out what Squiddles eat.”

You laughed, getting to your feet with the baby Squiddle still cradled in Sebastian’s hands. “Sounds like a plan,” you said, your smile wide and bright. “Looks like we’ve got a new adventure ahead of us.”

Ever since the baby Squiddle had made its home with you and Sebastian, the shop had become a little less gloomy and a lot more chaotic. The tiny, black, squid-like creature had instantly latched onto you—quite literally. It had taken a solid half-hour of convincing for Sebastian to help pry its sticky little tentacles from your leg when you'd first burst into the shop, panicked and breathless. But now, it was hard to imagine life without the little fellow.

The baby Squiddle, who you'd affectionately named Inky, seemed to have taken a liking to the shop, always finding new places to hide and new ways to amuse itself. Today, it was curled up in a corner of the shop on top of a pile of discarded maps, its many eyes blinking curiously at the two of you.

Sebastian chuckled as he watched you attempt to balance a bowl of water in one hand and a rag in the other. “You know, if you keep pampering it like that, it’s going to get spoiled,” he teased, his voice warm with affection. He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, a rare smile playing at his lips.

“Oh, hush,” you replied, rolling your eyes but smiling back. “It’s just a baby. Besides, someone has to make sure it doesn’t get dehydrated.”

As if understanding, Inky gave a small, delighted chirp and wriggled its little tentacles, reaching out to you as you approached. It had learned quickly that you were the softer of the two, always ready with a gentle touch and a kind word. You knelt beside it, dipping the rag into the bowl and gently dabbing it over the Squiddle's glossy skin. Inky let out a series of soft, happy gurgles, its many eyes closing in contentment.

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile wider at the sight. “You’re gonna turn that thing into a diva,” he said, though his voice was soft, almost fond.

You glanced up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “Says the one who spoils it with all the attention,” you shot back, gently booping Inky on what you thought might be its nose—or some kind of equivalent.

Inky made a face that could only be described as a tiny, squid-like attempt at a grin, one of its eyes squinting up at Sebastian. He snorted, shaking his head. “Okay, okay, maybe I do have a soft spot,” he admitted. “But can you blame me? Look at those faces.”

“Faces?” You laughed, giving Inky another gentle pat. “We still don’t know what most of those are for. But, you’re right; it’s hard to resist.”

Sebastian pushed off the wall and crossed the room, crouching down beside you. He reached out a hand, and Inky immediately curled a couple of tentacles around his fingers, tugging playfully. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I never thought I’d end up…here. With you, and…a baby Squiddle of all things.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Life is strange that way,” you said softly. “But…I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Sebastian wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice a low murmur. “Me neither.”

Inky made another soft chirping noise, and you both laughed, the sound filling the small shop. It was a moment of pure, untainted happiness—a rare commodity in the depths of the facility.

“Looks like someone’s getting sleepy,” you observed, watching as Inky’s eyes began to droop. You gently shifted it onto a more comfortable spot on the maps, creating a little nest for it. “There you go, little one.”

As Inky settled down, its eyes closing completely, Sebastian reached over and brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You’re really good with it, you know,” he said quietly.

You looked up at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. “Well, I guess I’ve had some practice,” you replied with a grin. “Can’t say I’ve ever had to take care of a baby Squiddle before, though.”

He chuckled. “First time for everything.”

You both sat there for a while, watching as Inky fell into a peaceful sleep. It was a rare moment of tranquility in an otherwise chaotic place. Sebastian squeezed your shoulder gently. “We’re…we’re doing alright, aren’t we?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

You turned to him, your smile soft. “Yeah, Sebastian,” you said. “We’re doing just fine.”

And in that moment, with Inky snoozing contentedly between you and Sebastian’s arm wrapped securely around you, it felt like the truth. You had found something good here—something worth holding onto. And no matter what came next, you knew you’d face it together, as a family.

[cuubism]

I REALLLLLLLLLLLLLYYYY LOVE YOUR BELOVED PROFESSOR DREAM FIC!!!!!!!! PEOPLE TEND TO FORGET THAT!!! EVEN IN CANON!!!! HES FULL OF LOVE!!!! AND PASSION!!! AND HE CARES SO MUCH IT LITERALLY DOOMS HIM!!!!! AND IF ONLY HES BEING GIVEN A MUCH MORE KINDER CIRCUMSTANCES!! HE WOULD BEHAVES EXACTLY LIKE YOUR FIC!!! I FEEL SO CRAZT!!!! PLEASE NEVER DIE I LOVE YPUR WORKS SO MUCH!!!

I've grown quite fond of him myself 🥺 @five-and-dimes and I discussed him at length and created more lore for him. It was determined that Dream's earnest whimsy probably got him bullied a lot when he was younger. Not since he met Hob though.... it's probably a coincidence 🤷‍♀️ surely everyone just realized the error of their ways and decided to grow up and be kinder! Dream knew it would happen some day :)

-

Dream is still reeling as he reaches the cafe where he's meant to get afternoon coffee with Hob. He feels a bit shaky, but happy. Joyful. In disbelief.

When Cori had cornered him after class, Dream had been sure he was going to shove him up against a wall, or throw his books on the ground, or any of the other number of things he seemed to get satisfaction out of doing. He'd clutched his books tight, bracing himself.

Instead, Cori had, with halting, uncomfortable words, apologized to him. Actually apologized! Dream had been wary at first, sure it was just another way to hurt his feelings--he's been called gullible many times and he knows there's truth to it--but Cori hadn't taken it back, or suddenly turned on him again like he had every other time Dream had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed genuine.

It was what Dream had always wanted, what he had always hoped for, so decided to take it and just pray that Cori wouldn't change his mind again in the future. Or trip him as he walked away.

He didn't, though. And as Dream left to walk to his next class, he couldn't help but feel victorious. He knew he would get through to him eventually! He'd always known that eventually people would grow out of their juvenile pranks and learn to treat others better. And finally it was starting to happen.

None of the other usual suspects bothered him that day, either. Nobody tried to trip him, or snickered when he said something overly sentimental in class. It was like overnight the world had woken up and decided to better itself. It was magical.

So he's still shaking a bit when he sits down across from Hob, who's already gotten him his mocha latte. When he doesn't say anything at first, just takes several long sips of his drink, Hob nudges his leg under the table.

"Everything alright?"

"Cori," Dream says, "apologized to me."

He must have milk foam on his lip, for Hob reaches across the table to wipe it away with his thumb, lingering on the corner of Dream's mouth. "Did he?"

Dream nods. "It- it did not seem to be a joke. Hob, I think he actually learned."

Hob smiles sweetly. "That's great, honey."

"Nobody tripped me today," Dream muses. "Or made fun of what I said in class. I cannot believe it. I knew that eventually people would grow up and learn how to treat others kindly, but it's startling to see it happen in real time."

"They must have learned from your example," Hob says. He takes Dream's hand on the table and starts playing idly with his fingers. Hob is very touchy-feely with him, always holding his hand, or playing with his fingers like they're a fidget toy, or petting his hair while they're lying in bed together. Dream found it strange at first. He was used to others he had attempted to date wanting to rough him up a little. When he questioned it, they would say, with a laugh, you're just too sheltered. Dream didn't think he was, particularly, he just didn't understand wanting to push someone around. At least not without finding out if they even liked it.

When Dream mentioned it, Hob had said, with a grimace, that Dream's kindness could be misinterpreted as innocence, and it made people want to 'corrupt him.' Dream didn't get it, but there were a lot of things he 'didn't get', at least according to other people. In any case, Hob didn't do that, because he knew Dream didn't like it, so Dream is content now. And he has Hob to at least attempt to interpret other people's odd behavior for him.

"I hope it sticks," he says, worriedly. "I would hate for Cori and the others to backslide now that they're finally making progress."

"Oh, don't worry," Hob says, bringing Dream's hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. He looks at Dream over their joined hands, gaze absolutely sure, a look that never fails to make Dream shiver pleasantly when it's directed at him. "I think it'll stick."

[riki-riks-chick]

hihi 🙋🏻‍♀️

this may seem like an odd request but ill try my best to explain it 😭 have you ever watched jennifers body? Could you please write reader with a personality like Jennifer Check with a Heeseung boyfriend? like not related to the initial lore but more of a just overly confident hot girl who everyone wants but can’t have, with her gloomy tall boyfriend?

sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭

Sunshine And Rain ┃L.HS

antisocial!heeseung x overlyconfident!reader

heeseung is a bit of a loser and feels he's not cool enough for his popular girlfriend

fluff! small kisses, self-doubt, reassurance, yn loves her loser bf, grumpyxsunshine trope kinda

wdct: 2k

ty for the request i kinda like this one 💚

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Third Person POV~

Nights in Hongdae were always some of the best. You could walk around in whatever skimpy clothes you dared to put on, and no one would question it. You could also drink your ass off without any worries because it's the weekend and you don't have to get up for work the next morning.

Your friends invited you out, telling you all about how you guys could have so much fun if everyone brought their boyfriend to make sure you guys were safe the whole night.

You were especially excited because you had finally convinced your boyfriend to go out with you. He wasn't thrilled of course, but you promised not to force him to be social, and he agreed.

You're currently at the second club of the night and its 10pm. Heeseung has probably only had a few drinks, but you're well over tipsy.

You were sitting at the bar together, though Heeseung was hardly paying attention to you, and some man came up to you.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing?..." He smiled and you rolled your eyes. "Sorry, I'm taken. Sorry for you though, I'm not sorry I'm taken.." You respond cockily and the man scoffs. "I don't see a boyfriend around."

"He's right here." You gesture towards Heeseung who's to your right, turning to stare at the man attempting to court you, his hand is resting lightly on your waist. "Yeah, like this loser is your boyfriend. What are you a hooker? Do you sleep with losers like him for cash?"

Heeseung's hand tightens against your hips before he pulls back, standing up from his chair. "If I were you, I'd walk away." His voice was low, and deep. You'd always get excited whenever he got jealous or protective.

The man clearly wasn't taking you or Heeseung seriously because he scoffed out a laugh, taking another sip from his drink. "Listen, sweetheart... I'm not convinced by whatever this is that you and this boring fellow are up to.. Come home with me and I'll show you a real good time.."

Heeseung sighs against your ear, grabbing the man by the collar as you grab his wrist, simply shaking your head. You then push Heeseung behind you, glaring at the man. "Listen here... You're the real fucking loser and if you don't take your dumb ass away from me in the next five seconds, I'll find your facebook page and tell your wife that you like to spend time trying to fuck other people's girlfriends." You speak straight up and forward, making the man's eyes widen. "Wife? I don't have a wife!"

"Says the ring on your finger. Now fuck off." You then grabbed Heeseung's hand, pulling him towards the dance floor, your drink clutched in your right hand. He made sure to grab your clutch when you started tugging on his arm.

"Baby.. You know I don't like dancing.. It's too crowded.." Heeseung speaks into your ear, making sure you can hear him over the bass of the loud music. You simply pull him closer, taking another sip of your cosmo. "Hee, baby.. That's the fun part. You get an excuse to be pressed against me in public without anyone noticing or caring."

He simply chuckled at your slurred explanation, spinning you around so he could pull your back to his chest. He held your hips gently, swaying you against him. "I don't deserve you.."

"Oh shut up, if I wasn't dating you I'd be with some perverted asshole who only wants to fuck me." You reassure, reaching back to place your hand on his nape, making him rest his head against your shoulder.

"Why didn't you wear the outfit I picked out for you?" You finally question and Heeseung chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. "The shirt was too brightly colored, and the pants were uncomfortable.." He mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he nuzzles against your neck. "Baby.. The shirt was light blue. That's not bright. You need to wear something other than black for once."

"I like the clothes I wear." He responds, and you can tell there's a pout in his voice. You simply smile, ruffling his hair. "If you like it, so do I.."

The night continues on as Heeseung continues to follow you and your friends around Hongdae. He's been mostly silent tonight except for his small conversations with you. On occasion he exchanged a few words with your best friend's boyfriend, only because he'd met him before and felt it would be rude to ignore someone he knew.

Once it hit midnight, you decided to part from your friends, not wanting to overwhelm Heeseung too much.

He took you to a convenience store to get you some water, and a hangover drink before simply just walking with you. Pretty street lights illuminating the streets, nicely colored signs all around you. Your hand is in his and he's smiling at you. Nights out are always so much better when he's with you.

There are a few stragglers walking around and Heeseung can tell that all eyes are on you as you walk by.

You've been dating for almost two years now, and he feels like he should be used to it, but he doesn't like that he never has you to himself. And it's not your fault because you're naturally outgoing and confident, it has nothing to do with how pretty you are. He's extremely lucky to be with not just the prettiest girl, but the most lovely and caring girl as well.

You've always been genuine with Heeseung, defending him whenever anyone tried to question why such an outgoing girl was with such an introverted guy. He fell harder each time you explained that his social life didn't matter as long as you were apart of it.

And now he's watching you walk confidently, heels sounding delightfully against the pavement. He doesn't even know how you're still wearing heels when you've been walking and dancing in them for hours now.

He's pulled from his thoughts when he feels you stop walking. "Heeseung... Do you wanna hang out in this cafe for a little while? It's been awhile since we've been to this cafe together.."

He couldn't say no to you if he tried, so he nodded, opening the door for you and letting you walk in. Even though it had been a long time since the two of you had been here, he still knew your order by heart. He ordered for the both of you before leading you to a quiet booth in the corner. He let you sit down before sliding in beside you.

"Did you have fun tonight?..." He questioned, wanting to start a conversation with you after being mostly silent. "I did.. But I was worried about you.." You reply, glancing up at him. He raises an eyebrow. "Why? I've been okay.."

"I feel bad dragging you around with me sometimes.. I know you don't really like clubbing.. Plus all the guys that approach me. I don't like when people disrespect you." You take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently as he smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "Baby, you don't have to feel bad. I'd do anything for you, you know.. It doesn't bother me when other guys try to talk to you.. You're a very wonderful woman, and I can't blame them.."

You smile at his words, giving him a kiss. "You're always so sweet, Heeseung... But really, I promise that next weekend I won't go clubbing.. It'll just be us. Okay?" He nods, caressing your cheek. "Okay then, we'll do that."

The two of you spend the next hour in the cafe, talking and laughing together. When you finally get up to leave, the barista stopped you. "Hey, could I get your number?"

You simply scoffed, grabbing Heeseung's hand before leaving the cafe. Heeseung was slightly shocked. Usually you'd come up with some cocky response to turn guys down, but you simply walked away.

You were quiet afterwards, and Heeseung didn't know what to say. You stayed silent until the two of you finally got back home.

You kicked your heels off at the door, dropping your coat, which Heeseung gladly picked up for you.

"Heeseung, I'm gonna shower.. Do you wanna join?" You asked, glancing back at him as he followed you towards your bedroom. He simply nodded, setting your coat on the dresser, his own following.

You disappeared into the bathroom, taking off your makeup while Heeseung set out some clothes for the two of you to wear after showering.

He then joined you in the bathroom, turning on the shower before pulling his shirt over his head.

He then moved to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You smiled, finishing taking off your makeup before washing your face.

Heeseung's hands were already working on unzipping your skirt, tugging it past your hips to let it hit the floor. He then pulled your shirt over your head, dropping it as he turned you around to face him, pressing his lips softly against yours.

You kissed back, sliding your hands up his sides as he cupped your jaw, tugging you closer.

Eventually he pulled away, kissing your forehead. You finished undressing before stepping into the shower. The water was warm and you already felt so much relief from the slight headache you had.

Heeseung pressed you against the wall, catching you completely by surprise as you stared up at him. "What?..."

"What's the matter? You're never this quiet.." He mumbles, his tone filled with worry. You simply sigh, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "I'm fine. I'm just tired." Your excuse is definitely not going unnoticed by Heeseung, he shakes his head, cupping your cheek. "Are you upset with me?.. I'm sorry if it's embarrassing having people talk about you because of me.." He asks, saying the words with no expression.

"Heeseung, I'm not embarrassed of you. And I'm definitely not upset with you. Stop saying nonsense." You speak firmly, gripping his wrist as he nodded. "Okay.. I'm sorry." He apologizes, smiling weakly as he pulls away.

You tug him back by his hips, staring up at him. "Now you seem upset... Hee, baby.. You know that I love you no matter what others think. Right?"

He nods, though the motion seems hesitant, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "If it makes you feel better, I won't force you into coming with me anymore.." You suggest, but he shakes his head. "I enjoy being with you, I just wish I wasn't such a loser.. That way people would think that you have a cool boyfriend.. Someone who's not afraid to have fun or socialize.."

His words make you scoff. You cup his cheeks, pulling him closer so he was only a few inches away. You kissed his forehead before pulling back to stare into his eyes. "Lee Heeseung.. I don't give a fuck about what others think.. I only care about you. And I like that you're a little boring at times, it's a good contrast for me.. You're like the rain to my sunshine.. You're perfect and nothing will ever change that.."

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ive never seen Jennifer's Body so I hope I displayed yn's personality right 🫣

[twistedinthreads]

Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake. 

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.” 

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength. 

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her. 

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars. 

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip. 

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper. 

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette. 

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer. 

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now. 

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe. 

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.” 

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric. 

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it. 

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands. 

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake. 

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.” 

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.” 

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately. 

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters. 

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently. 

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes. 

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized. 

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough. 

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness. 

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible. 

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things. 

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm. 

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form. 

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain. 

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix. 

[airbendertendou]

NOTHING TO SEE! ♥︎ saiki kusuo

synopsis : you need to meet your tutor-of-sorts, but bring along your babysitting duties

cw : soichi , knowing junji ito lore isnt needed! , possibly ooc , mention of eating scorpions! , lowercase intended , name used instead of yn

“get down from there right now!” a clatter is heard as a bundle of nails fall to the floor. letting out a sigh, you pinch the bridge of your nose before looking up. “i don’t have time for this today, soichi. are you coming with me or not?”

pink hair is easy enough to spot as your grip on the eleven year old’s wrist tightens. soichi giggles to himself, muttering things you’re glad you don’t hear. you grit your teeth, smiling tensely at your classmate. “i’m so sorry about this.”

as always, saiki kusuo stays silent. he looks from you to the child attached to your arm and blinks. you make soichi sit beside the wall, scooting into the booth beside him as you place your bag on the floor.

you clear your throat, “last minute babysitting duties. his brother is studying for college, so i’m their last resort.” you watch soichi from the corner of your eye — he’s making faces on the window at everyone who passes by. “he listens… fairly well.”

the table goes silent as you bring your school books out. saiki glances at the child again, blinking at soichi's glare. a waitress stops by your table, flinching at every gag soichi releases — he's not a fan of sweets. you smile awkwardly again, letting out a small laugh and apologizing profousely.

"why do i go out in public with you."

as always, you tend to speak your thoughts. saiki flinches at the echo, watching as you scowl at soichi. the kid grins, mouth full of nails as he wiggles in his seat. you sigh, looking back to saiki, "i'm surprised your other friends aren't here. they usually go wherever you go."

"i managed to ditch them." saiki reads through his text book, not meeting your gaze. "for now. they'll probably show up soon."

a squeaking sound interrupts the silence. soichi is taking his pointer finger and dragging it harshly down the window. when he sees both of your eyes on him, he grins. "hehehehe—"

"soichi," you frown, but keep your voice soft, "remember your promise?"

the boy's smile falls, eyes squinting as he pouts. "behave and i'll get a treat."

"not just a treat!" you dig through your bag again, the crinkle of a wrapper hitting saiki's ears. soichi sits up straight, eyes widening and brightening. "your favorite treat."

a lollipop is in your hand, the orange color gleaming in the lights. saiki doesn't hide his disgust at the sight of it ; soichi can't hide his excitement. there's a scorpion in the candy, seemingly still twitching around the stick.

saiki takes a sip of his drink, "disgusting."

soichi hisses at the pink haired boy, “i’ll curse you! may you always find watermelon seeds in your soup!” curling against you cutely, he bats his widened eyes, looking at the lollipop before back at you. "how nice of you to bring me a treat, name!"

"an hour or two of quiet, that's all i ask."

the eleven year old agrees, seemingly purring as he lays his head on your shoulder. you let out a sigh, relaxing at his subdued state. you grin saiki's way, "it's safe to study now! so, i'm confused on this part—"

saiki is in disbelief of what he hears. the child may be calm, but his mind is running and yelling, going in circles with topics. you pop up sometimes — soichi's nicest thoughts are always about you. soichi narrows his eyes at the pink boy — there's a slew of threats and curses heading his way.

"he listens to me the most," you speak up. saiki looks to you and your gentle, caring smile. "that's why his family hired me. i just think i'm nice and he appreciates it."

that could be true. it was shown in your toughts and soichi's. your kindess and the way you listened to the boy ; the way he melted into your side and trusted you.

it made saiki kusuo feel a little warmer than usual.

——♥︎—— soichi is so so silly <3 i hope i got his character close to what it is ]: based on me watching my nephew <<3

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[wrathofrats]

Day 19: confessions - mist and aether talking about dews transition. Aether thinks she hates him, she doesn’t, and they talk about their feelings

It helps to read this piece and some of the stuff in #wrath’s ghost lore before hand, but it’s not necessary. Just know aether did dews transition.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows as always for this month <3

Warnings for small talks of mortality, it’s kinda angsty but I made it better so.

“How did you-“

“Dewdrop” aether interrupted.

Mist sat under one of the old concrete arches that decorated the back of an abandoned chapel. One of the little ones that primo had used before the clergy grew out of it. Let sit to gather vines and moss. Leaves decorated the pillars, the walkway was full of cracks and so overgrown that it was almost hard to follow.

There was a sense of tranquility in the chaos. The fresh smell of plants and old water that had seeped into the grooves of the concrete made mist feel at ease, nothing to order her around, nothing to remind her of the strict order she was to follow when in front of the other siblings.

“He’s such a snitch” mist snorted. She patted the ground next to her, motioning for aether to join her.

“He told me what happened” aether sighed, leaning back against the structure. He jumped slightly at the cool feeling on his back, before settling in completely.

“How much?”

“Said you went off on him. That you were upset he actually changed his element”

Mist cringed. She brought her knees tight to her chest as dewdrops jacket now felt shameful around her shoulders. Part of her almost wanted to just get up and walk away to avoid the confrontation. She knew dew probably told aether what she said about him, that she had partially blamed him. Words spat in the heat of the moment begging dew just to look at her.

“He told me what you said”

“I’m sure aethers real pleased with his work this time” mist bit

“If omega of all ghouls can fuck up did you really expect me to trust aether?”

“Aether I-“ mist choked. She cringed remembering her own words, bitter tasting in her mouth now that the target of her anger sat next to her.

“Don’t, I understand why you’re upset,” he sighed. The air felt thick around them, a heavy cold that encapsulated them both as the sun went down.

“Yeah but I’m not upset with you”

Mist doesn’t know who she’s upset with if she’s being honest. Maybe herself for feeling betrayed even if dew didn’t pick pride over an animalistic fate like she did. Maybe papa for letting her choose her own reality of not transitioning. Maybe whatever sick divine being cursed them to be like this. None of her feelings seem correct. She couldn’t pick an answer on what’s appropriate to feel about this even if she tried.

“No one seems to be. I kinda hoped you were the one to actually see through this bullshit " Aether threw his head back to rest against the wall, staring up at the dark patches of algae on the top of the arch.

“What do you mean? No one should be mad at you aeth”

“I did that to him, I ruined him”

“You saved him.” Mist turned to face him, a concerned look on her face. A gust of wind cut against the tears in her eyes, making her realize that she had once again started crying.

“He’s not himself anymore mist, so does it even matter?”

Aether sighed, chewing his lip in frustration. The lingering light of the sunset cast a cold shadow on him making him shiver as he moved to stand up.

“He’s more himself than he ever was” mist practically whispered. She gave him a pleading look, motioning him to continue to sit with her.

���He won’t even look at you mist”

“But that’s always been dew. He’s had a fiery personality since he was summoned. I could’ve used his favorite cup and he would’ve ignored me for hours over it”

Aether stopped to stare at her, a puzzled look in his eye.

“I would give anything for him to just talk to me, but that’s my fault anyways. He’s always been a volatile bundle of emotions, it’s just fitting he now has the element to match” she laughed.

There was a rare crack in her pride that made her feel solemn. Asking if she herself made the right decision to stay a water ghoul. The choice between staying true to herself and succumbing to a natural fate or potentially becoming a botched version of herself that was barely mist anymore.

Dew was thriving. He had his scars and sudden outbursts that weren’t exactly there before, but he was happy, and that’s all mist needed to care about.

“I just don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself” aether mumbled, sitting closer to mist while she wrapped the small jacket around his shoulders.

“You will. One day you’ll see how bright his smile has gotten and you’ll realize it was worth it.”

[animentality]

Sorry, I am laughing a little at the Astarion fans who keep insisting Astarion was basically a baby when he became a vampire.

A baby who was a magistrate that was apparently so unpopular that he got his ass beat by a group of people mostly known for being nice.

Like. Come on now. I know elves live for a long time and all, but if you can run a court of law...I think you're an adult.

I also want to point out something that annoys me. So as we all know, fantasy as a genre is more racist than most genres.

Mostly because white people love fantasy racism, for some reason, idk what it could be...

Anyway, the Gur in DND lore are Roma inspired, as they're nomadic, their original lore describes them as "diviners" and "soothsayers," they're described as "dusky" skinned, and they're often the victims of racism.

So Astarion is racist against the Gur.

Yeah, they did beat his ass.

But like.

He's still racist.

Yeah, Gandrel is white passing and the Gur you meet later aren't dark skinned, but.

Leaves a weird taste in my mouth when white people sob over how Astarion was "just a baby" when I strongly suspect the original lore reason for Astarion getting beat up is because he probably passed some racist ass law, and the Gur were getting just revenge.

And also making the Gur white because the original DND lore is outdated and offensive doesn't totally negate the awkwardness of this.

Like many things in BG3, it's mentioned once, and then never comes up again.

I guess it would've made Astarion discourse even nastier, if he was portrayed as being more consistently racist.

But truthfully?

Don't know why they didn't do it. It's not like white people, who are the primary audience of BG3, would defend Astarion's behavior any less if he was more consistently racist.

edit: I'm sorry, I also forgot that he's racist to other species in the games too, including tieflings, since he approves of racist comments you make about them at the grove.

so Astarion is consistently racist and his fans totally ignore this. but water is wet.

I just think the gur thing is worse because of the historical background of the gur in DND. at least tieflings are a fantasy race.

[anotheroceanid]

Oh my gods thank you for answering me I'm about to sleep so I'll annoy you more tomorrow if you keep answering my asks, Kronos thoughts on Percy? Just because of the Rhea dress up series I'm now starting on your ask blog

Don’t worry, it’s nice talking ✌️

Hm… okay, but as I said, Titans can be creepy. (this can be considered a bit darker than the previous snippets, and it gets a bit of titan lore from WTHB, but nothing that counts as an spoiler)

You know these old guys who will look at you and tell you that you look just like their deceased wives? That was Kronos. But at a much younger age, Percy thought it was super normal being compared to a long-recluse titaness.

See, everything was happening so fast ever since he got to camp, that never once he reflected much on the “you look like your grandma” talks. He thought it meant in a “she sided with the Olympians too, now they’re not even on speaking terms with her anymore”, and coming from the guy who ate his kids, Percy wasn’t paying much attention.

Years later, it definitely snapped to him.

Probably talking to one of the other elder titans, he’d come to realise how much Kronos used to really compare him to his former wife. Even in the way he spoke to Percy. Weird. Weird. Weeeeird.

The thing is: after a millennia or two living on Tartarus (and worse, without a body), you don’t end up well. Kronos, all his siblings would confirme, was never in a good place… mentally speaking.

Their father detested him more than he detested anyone else, and in the meanwhile Ouranos worshiped the ground Rhea walked on. And Kronos had a huge, huuuuge crush on her ever since… ever. No need to say that Ouranos was 100% against it, that was his little girl, his favourite, the jewel of his world, one good thing about having kids is that one of these kids were Rhea.

But Rhea liked Kronos too, when he was just that silly guy that made her laugh, so she hoped eventually Ouranos would soften a bit to this potential relationship. Well, it never happened. The whole thing with the coup went on. Rhea could’ve told his father that her mother and brothers were conspiring against him, but turned out she liked Kronos more than she liked their father.

Kronos was very smug about it.

About the time the coup happened, some of the titans were already married. Tethys and Oceanus had a lot of kids already, Hyperion and Theia had Helios and Selene already, and it was just a matter of time before Koios and Phoebe started having kids too. Krios was trying to woo his violent sea lady and Iapetus was doing just alright as a bachelor (until Clymene was born, but that’s an entirely different story), and the other titanesses were still in their “Boys??? Ew!!!” era. So, Rhea and Kronos got together. Everyone knew it’d happen. Happy ending, right?

Nope. As stated before, Kronos never been in a nice mental state. But Rhea loved him very much, and thought Kronos’ turmoil was just a matter of time (yes, a pun) and that he’d be fine sooner than later and would like have kids just as much as Hyperion but a little less than Oceanos (she didn’t want to have that many kids).

Then, she got pregnant. And he ate the baby. Then again. Then again. Then again. Well, we all know the story about how it got to the rock.

But Kronos… not so much. Maybe something deep (as Tartarus) down, he felt bad about it. Maybe he did want to have kids. Maybe he even liked the kids that he had. He made a joke about his daughters’ future weddings on the day Helios got married to Oceanos’ eldest girl, Perseus, who was Kronos’ favourite niece. He spoke about them like they were sitting just beside him, not in the bottom of his stomach. That was terrible. Rhea cried a lot.

So everything to say: Kronos is not very aware of reality as it is. He’s a terrible person (titan, whatever), but he’s also a very confused one. So at the sight of Percy, he didn’t see Percy… At least, not all times. Usually, he’d see Rhea playing in a younger, boyish figure. Sometimes, he’d see his enemy. And sometimes, it’d mix. And if Rhea was a bit wilder, well, he wasn’t exactly the same either, so whatever.

And if if Rhea had loved him more than she loved her father once, maybe it could work again, right?

But Luke didn’t want to cooperate with this part of his plan. Thankfully.

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

o yea. i saw u reblogged rock & midnight. how r they in ur rewrite ? :3

Glad you asked!

For simple fun things, Midnight is huge because I like the giant badgers. Rock is also gay.

I'll put Midnight in the second post. You've hit Lore Jackpot.

For the more complex things... Let's start with Rock. A bit of Rock's dialog from PO3 intrigued me and I never quite let it go.

I know it was probably meant as a "ooughh immortality is awful" line but... What if it isn't?

What if he actually was cursed? Why else would a being that feels like this... Feel like this? This isn't an emotionless immortal creature rejecting Jayfeather out of coldness, this is a repressed, traumatized creature rejecting Jayfeather because he is seeing a newborn baby and a rotten corpse at the same time. He doesn't have access to Starclan, he cannot stay friends with Jayfeather after he inevitably dies. It'll only hurt. Also, there are heavy implications if not outright statements that Rock used to be a normal cat! He's even mentioned in Night Whispers to be scarred. (Look I know that the 2007 book that mentions 3 tribes and mentions that Rock's kin used to live around the lake isn't canon anymore but... Who cares. Its better worldbuilding than what we've got now.)

So... What could cause immortality like this?

I began to brainstorm, and decided it was a real tragedy. Something awful happened, something a certain young tom should have learned a lesson from... And didn't.

It was a gloomy day around the lakeside when a young couple, a gray and white tom named Rock who to swim and his new mate, a pure brown tom named Bug who loved to try herbs on wounds, to heal them. The two had been racing each other down the lakeside, laughing and playing, rushing through the autumn leaves and exploding out of the piles the had accumulated.

Bug, the more adventurous of the 2, had found a small opening. The scent of running water had made his curiosity burn. Rock nervously followed him, reminding him that they needed to get home at some point soon. Rock's mother, Falcon, had recently had 3 kits, and he needed to go and watch over them for her and his father, so they could hunt together.

Bug urged him on. "Come on Rocky!" He mewed, his eyes widening when it echoed. "This place is too cool to not explore a LITTLE! What if we can't find it again? Besides, we can bring back something for them all when we leave."

Rock couldn't argue with that! He leapt down after Bug, their tails twined together as they looked around. Rock's thick, fluffy fur was keeping him warm, though Bug, with his short fur, needed to huddle against his mate to keep warmer in the cold tunnels.

The tunnels did not seem to run deep, but soon enough Rock and Bug found themselves navigating using only their whiskers and tentative pawsteps. The tunnel took a sharp turn suddenly, enough that Rock nearly bumped his nose into the wall!

Bug laughed, and the wonderful, soft sound echoed. But... Soon after, another sound would very faintly echo through the tunnels.

Thunder.

"Oh, jeez, I didn't know it would rain. We should probably get back now."

How easy that sounded... The two toms rushed through the tunnels, their hearts beginning to pound as water filled the narrow rocky halls, Rock himself slipped over his own paws, landing into the water, the freezing water soaking into his thick fur immediately and chilling him to the bone.

"Rocky!" Bug had cried, but the water was picking up speed, dragging Rock down, deeper into the tunnel. Above, a hole in the ground had worn away, pouring more rainwater into the tunnels and providing a light.

The last thing Bug saw of Rock was his eyes glazed with terror as he slid away into the darkness, crying out for Bug...

Bug had kept going, managing to find another tunnel that lead straight outside into... Bright sunlight? Bug was soaked to bone, he had heard the crashing thunder just seconds ago...

Falcon stood outside the tunnel entrance, a deep glare on her face. "Where have you been?! It's been 2 days! And where is Rock?!"

"B... Bug? ... Where's Rock...?"

A few days later, Bug gathered himself, and would fling himself into the tunnels once more, the floor of them was as dry and bare as bleached bone. Not a single sign of the rain that had washed his lover away...

Bug searched, deeper and deeper, down the tunnel he could have sworn did not stretch that long.... Into a coldness that he swears he could feel in his very soul.

Down, at the very bottom chamber, lit by a shimmering white mossy rock, is Rock's body. His fur isn't soft anymore, it's cold and wet. His eyes, unblinking, stare into nothing. Bug begins to weep as the mossy rock that isn't a mossy rock sits up, striding over.

"I am sorry for your loss." A large, fluffy, pure white molly speaks. Her glossy fur shimmers, and her eyes, black as night, give nothing away. "It was his time."

"What do you mean 'it was his time'? He had a family! He has little siblings! His mother and father are broken hearted!"

"Everything has a time. It cannot be rewritten. Your time will come. Everything that has happened, is happening, will happen." She spoke without tone, her hollow voice echoing through the chamber. “I am time's keeper. The god of time. I have seen all that there is and has been and was. All is as it should be, as it ever was, as it always will be. Move forward, like time has, and you will be happy once more.”

Bug unsheathes his claws, he stares down at Rock, his sweet Rock, who had never harmed another cat in his life, had only ever been kind... Why him? Why not some other awful cat to drown this way in this awful place? "No." Is all he says, as he leaps at the ethereal molly, slashing her throat. Sparkling blue blood covers Bug, the molly doesn't even so much as flinch.

"You will regret this, little one. Time needs a keeper. It will never be your time. You cannot change what has been written."

The god of Time dies, and Bug finds himself lifted into the air. All at once he sees what has been, could be, should be, will be, and is. His fur begins to streak gray from the stress and strain, his eyes turning pure white. He rushes to Rock, crying out softly for him to wake up, that he has power over time, there must be a way to fix this... To turn back time....

But the molly had told him already. He is the god of Time, not its warden.

He repeats his beloved's name to not lose his mind. He cannot leave the tunnels. Time stretches on and he realizes what the old god had meant. He ages, seasons pass. Heat and ice and rain and young cats and sticks and crying parents and terrible storms and so, so much emptiness.

He repeats Rock's name to remember it. His lover's bones long since crumbled to dust and to nothing. Over and over, and over.

Without seeing him, a tiny gray tabby picks up the stick he guards, the very last one. He senses the cat in front of him, and says hello without fear. The kitten, Jaykitpawfeather states his current name, not yet aware of how it will change. He asks for the name of the god of Time.

In an old, creaking voice, he stammers out the only name he can remember.

[gabriel-xander]

I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 3

[Scaramouce x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

{Also on Quotev, Ao3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 3: Farewell From Snezhnaya

“Don’t forget to change your clothes to something lighter as you get close to Liyue.”

“[L/n]-”

“Try not to move around the ship too much, you don’t want to get seasick so quickly and so often.”

“[L/n].”

“Stay hydrated, too! You’ll get thirsty faster since it’s pretty warm in Liyue.”

“[L/-”

“A-And don’t get in unnecessary trouble! I don’t want you to-”

“-[Y/n]!”

Kazuki grabs your hands from where they were nervously tugging at the collar of your uniform. He was one of the few who have yet to board the ship since Childe has yet to actually arrive.

You’re nervous about letting Kazuki go. He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, joined at the hip since the age of 7. It’s not so much the fact that you’re scared to let him go, or scared that he might get hurt or-Archons forbid-die in Liyue. Kazuki is a strong fighter blessed with a Pyro Vision and is a skilled fighter with a claymore. He's more than capable of taking care of himself.

It’s just…

Kazuki is your person.

You two didn’t have your masks on at the moment, but not having it made you feel exposed and it caused you to look away from him.

“‘M gonna miss you, Nao.” You admit quietly.

The brunette smiles and pulls you close for a hug, “I’m going to miss you too, [Y/n]. I’ll try to send letters as often as I can, I promise.”

“You better,” You reply, clutching the fabric of his coat, “Or else I’ll go to Liyue myself to kick your ass.”

“Aw, just for me? Am I just that special to you, [Y/n]?”

“Shut up, Nao. I’d trade you for a sip of water.”

You two pull away from each other with a laugh, beginning to feel a little better about the departure.

You shiver when a particularly strong breeze rises up, but that shiver was from a sudden tension rather than the cold as your stomach drops to your feet. You immediately summon your claymore (You don’t remember what it was called, Nao had gifted it to you. Prototype… Archi? Archaic? Something like that) and hold it above your head just in time to clash against-

“CHILDE?!”

Childe used his Hydro to create dual blades that clashed against yours. He uses the leverage to push himself back, dissolving the weapons and creating a polearm instead. You send your claymore back into the aether and jump to the right when Childe throws the spear at you.

The spear dissolves and some of it gets on you, making you colder than you would’ve liked. Childe stands away, summoning his bow oh so casually.

“Lord Childe!”

“Yes, [Y/n]?”

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Permission granted!”

“What the fuck, dude?!!”

Childe laughs at you, doubling over while you just look at him confused. You’re literally just trying to exist but this ginger man really said fuck that noise.

“With all due respect, I don’t stand a chance against you,” You grin to mask your anxiety, “You’d kill me in a second.”

“Don’t talk like that! Not all battles’ purposes are who wins and who loses. In this case, the experience is most definitely the most important part.”

“?? Yeah, that’s cool and all but I still ain’t tryna fight you, Childe,” You wave your hands frantically as you start sputtering, “Pff-Uh-And anyway! Don’t you have a boat to board in like, right now??”

Childe laughs again and walks towards you, letting his bow disappear back into the aether. You sense the tension has left his body, so he’s probably not planning to attack but you stay on guard anyway.

The ginger stops right in front of you and pats your shoulder, “You have such a bright personality, [Y/n]! I definitely like this easy going side of you more than the facade you have for your boss. It’s refreshing to see someone as honest as you in a place like this.”

You clench your fists by your side and look away. You don’t want to be chummy or friends with anyone from the Fatui. Kazuki is the only exception for obvious reasons… You can’t allow Childe to be another exception as well.

“You’re also strong, [Y/n]. I can already see so much potential in you, and that’s not a bad thing. You can’t let someone like Scaramouche scare you into hiding that potential away. Only you can decide if you’ll use it for good or evil,” Childe smiles softly, “You’re a soft soul, don’t let the world or anyone else turn you into something you’re not.”

Your heart races from his words, praying to the Archons that he won’t be the cause of your sudden change of heart. It’s not as if you convinced yourself that you needed to be a cold bitch to survive…. but you convinced yourself that you needed to be a cold bitch to survive.

“Why are you telling me this?” You finally get the courage to look the Harbinger in the eyes, “You don’t even know me.”

But as kind as Childe is being to you (right now), his words alone can’t suddenly make all your problems go away.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I’d like to!” Childe laughs and pats your back, “You’re the only interesting person here! Honestly, it’s a shame I didn’t get a second meeting with you sooner.”

You sigh with exasperation. Childe is a type of person who goes after what interests him and stops at nothing until he’s satisfied. You suppose your potential friendship falls under that category.

“This is damaging to my reputation,” You say without any real bite to it.

“Reputation?”

“Yeah, of being a loner.”

Childe cocks his head to the side, humming quietly in thought as he crosses his arms.

“My Lord,” Kazuki (poor boy was third wheeling the whole time) steps up from behind you, “I got word that we have maybe a few minutes to board the ship before it leaves. It won’t wait for us any longer.”

Childe pouts ever so slightly, "Didn't I tell you to call me 'Liege' instead?"

You turn around and throw your arms around Kazuki’s neck, not caring for professionalism at the exact moment. You feel his arms go around your waist, squeezing you lightly for one last hug.

“You behave,” You mutter, “Don’t go picking fights. and don’t do drugs.”

“Yes, mom.” He groans.

“Ugh, don’t call me mom. You’ve seen me naked too many times to call me that,” You joked, but did you really?

“Mommy?”

“No.”

You went to pull away, but Kazuki squeezes you again. Your face morphs into embarrassment, not used to Kazuki showing you more affection than you show him. You pat his back and chuckle.

"Hey, come on. Don't get soft on me," You grin, "This is uh… ah-hahaha, 'is kind of embarrassing."

"Sh. Let me have this. Haa man… I wish I didn't have to go."

"Why do you have to go? You're not even his direct subordinate."

"Oh, that's because Kuzuzushi is my hype-man!" Childe says with a smile.

Kazuki pulls away with a heavy sigh, "It's Kazuki, My Liege."

"Wait-what do you mean he's your hype-man?" You ask quickly.

The brunette deadpans, "Are you only bringing me along to… hype you up??"

"Yeah! Isn't that great?"

HOOOOOONNKKK!!!

The boat's horn sounds loudly as the walkway is dropped, separating the ship from the docks.

Childe takes your hand and puts something on your palm. You don't get to see it since he moves your fingers to close it to a fist. He keeps that hand into his, smiling warmly while leaning his face close to yours.

It would've given you butterflies if you weren't consciously aware that this man was dangerous and has killed people before. Of course as always, the light never reaches his eyes no matter how sincere his smile was.

"Remember, [Y/n]. It's your life, and you get to decide how you use your own strength and power," Childe says with conviction, "Don't let people like Scaramouche scare you from being who you are. I look forward to seeing the type of person you decide to become when we meet again."

"I… Childe-"

"-My Liege, they're leaving without us! We have to go now!"

"Right! Let's go Kazuki!"

"It's Ka-actually, you got it right."

Letting go of your hand, the Harbinger and the agent run to the docks. Kazuki and Childe use their Visions to propel themselves into the air. Childe's Hydro almost immediately freezes due to the Snezhnayan weather. You see the ginger subtly lean towards Kazuki when they grab onto the side of the boat. Most likely because of Kazuki's Pyro Vision.

"Hype me up, Kazuki!" You hear the ginger say as he climbs up the side.

"Uhhh-FUCK IT UP, MY LIEGE!!"

"WOOHOOOO!!"

…

Boys will be boys, you suppose.

You look down at your hand to see what Childe had put there. You widen your eyes when you see it's one of his red earrings. You snap your head up to find Childe. He was already on the boat, safe and sound. You jog to the docks to get a closer look at the ginger who was watching you.

Sure enough, Childe was missing his right earring, the left one dangling from his ear almost mockingly.

You can't see the expression he's making, but from his energetic waving, you (correctly) assume he's grinning like an idiot. Kazuki was next to him, giving you the forbidden finger.

Fucker.

You're the only loser left on the dock, but you don't care. You watch them leave until you can't see people on the ship anymore, feeling a little warm from standing in the cold for so long.

That's probably a bad sign.

----

"Why the hell are you late?"

"I almost died of hypothermia."

"Well, cut it out. We have things to do," Scaramouche frowns as he walks past you, "I gave you the favor of seeing off your comrades before they left. But now break time's over, you're back on the clock."

You hate this. You roll your eyes behind your mask and follow him out the office.

"Do you remember where that camp was located? The one the Treasure Hoarders are hiding at?"

"Yes, My Lord. Would you like me to prepare departure for today?"

"Yeah, but don't bring anyone else. It'll just be you and me. Everyone else is just incompete-... What the hell is that."

You frown while tilting your head to the side, "Sir?"

"That's Tartaglia's earring."

That's right, you had put on the earring on your right ear on your way to your boss' office. You had pierced ears, but upon joining the Fatui, you stopped wearing accessories in case it got in the way.

You don't know what came over you. Scaramouche's hand had suddenly come up to your vision, reaching towards the right of your head. You took a step back, your hand coming up to block him with your wrist.

"..."

"..."

Scaramouche was staring at you with surprised eyes, and you look back with the same expression.

"I… Please, don't touch that, My Lord." You take another step back and lower your head, your hand dropping to your side, "You don't know where it's been."

You're dead.

You're dead.

You're still alive.

But you're so dead.

The Balladeer rolls his eyes with a scoff, continuing his walk, "I liked you better before you met Tartaglia."

Alsnxnchakjslsm????

"We're leaving in an hour, [L/n]. If you're not ready, I might actually kill you this time."

"Yes, My Lord."

ARGH!

WHY IS HE THE WAY HE IS??

[spiteful-studios]

PLEASE- I just wanted to get some love from these two boiz- and all I got was a target on mah bootiful forehead-

HOW DARE YOU-

I'm just kidding, what is the lore of this? What made you target our foreheads? 😊

if it makes you feel any better, i happen to be the CEO of having a massive dome so you're in great company—

anyways explanation under the cut !!

the reason we decided to go with something as innocuous as your forehead to pick on you for is for a.) inclusivity and b.) time appropriate discrimination. its important to remember that the game takes place in the seventies in the united states. the social environment for the school would be a lot different than the social environment that we would see in a more modern high school; namely, one of the things we discussed pretty early on in our discussion of worldbuilding for our dating sim was how we were going to tackle the discrimination that one would probably experience in a high school at this time. i know we do have some players who may not be as familiar with united states politics around this time, but the civil rights act, which banned segregation in public spaces, was passed in the mid-sixties ( be nice to me its been like ten years since ive studied american history ) so depending on when we think glass hearts takes place in the seventies, we might be fresh off segregation. and there are other factors to consider, such as how racism looks in southern states versus northern states and how that would translate to an academic setting, nevermind the sexism you may face if you're afab or visibly queer. so that brought the question: do we ignore period appropriate discrimination?

if i can get personal for a second— im bipoc and i love the sixties and seventies for their aesthetic, the vernacular, it just so happens that i really like it. but im someone who grew up with a lot of discrimination around videogames. its frustrating, for example, to play a game with an all-white cast where the self-insert main character is a little petite white girl when i am, in fact, a plus-sized black woman. Or playing games in which the only people of color i see are complete stereotypes rather than actual characters. i was pretty upfront with my partner that i didnt want to us to create a game that isolated people of color the way that i felt isolated growing up. so, blatantly putting anything discriminatory against anyone was not on the table for either of us. it would have been period appropriate, sure, but it wouldnt have been a fun experience no matter what avenue we went down with it. but i also felt like it was . . . weird not to have any reference to the discriminatory nature of a school environment at that time ?? i kind of struggle to put it into words necessarily, but it feels reductive to just not include anything about the discriminatory nature of schools at that time for people in vulnerable populations ?? like, for example, homophobia is not so insignificant that i can just write it out of a time period and we are none the wiser. while i would love to live in a world where homophobia doesnt exist it is just unrealistic, and writing around it diminishes opportunities to show characters growing from prejudice views, or explain struggles that some audiences ( like myself and my partner, for example ) can really resonate with. so that brings us back to the main question: how do we write discrimination without actively discriminating against anyone ??

the forehead bit.

it was kind of a joke that meg and i spitballed when we were in the early phases of writing the script ( specifically lou tenant making that forehead joke early in the game. the way meg read that out had me dying laughing when we were in the early stages ) that just stuck, but it really worked out to accomplish what we were trying to accomplish !! because the forehead bit is annoying. we can write it in ways that make it easy to play it off for laughs and make it something that we can all giggle about, but the constant repetition gives this impression that certain characters are judging you off a character that the main character cannot control or change, or that they're poking fun of a feature that is unique to you. if you want to read into it in a more serious light like meg and i are more prone to do with the media that we consume, then the forehead joke can be seen as a microaggression and expanded upon. but for people who are not interested in that, they can just laugh, groan, or roll their eyes and move on with the story. its also such a specific insult that there's minimal risk of retraumatizing anyone with that comment, and it still harkens back to the microaggressions you may face based on your sexuality, ethnicity, race, etc. we didnt want to isolate any particular audience by making anything more specific than that— anyone can have a big forehead regardless of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, etc.

so, in short because i rambled a lot in this response, it basically serves as environmental storytelling to write discrimination without writing discrimination. whether we were successful is entirely at the digression of the audience; i just know that meg and i have been trying to make a game that we would enjoy playing, and that was what we decided would be the most effective avenue to tackle that issue.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Museum- Gallagher & Sunday's daughter!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: June 10th, 2024

Description: Hello I just got an idea, what if the reader, who is sunday's young daughter, and is normally very shy, made friends with Gallagher's kid, the reader had been out with her mother due to Sunday being busy for the day when they first met, and the reader starts to view Gallagher as an uncle overtime (ngl Gallagher just makes me think of an uncle, is that just me?)

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. Gallagher's son is adopted, not important but I think it's the only thing that makes sense lore wise.

Part: 1 2 3 4

Word count: 1 743

Back to directory

“Can we see daddy yet?” Y/n whined, digging her feet into the ground so she could swing around her mother’s arm.

Her mother smiled fondly, still dragging her daughter along. She felt a little bad for the soles of the girl’s shoes, but they didn’t last long anyways. Y/n was growing so fast she’d probably need a new pair next week anyways. 

Sunday was always surprised when pictures of Y/n getting her height marked against the wall came in every month, no matter how little of a change it was.

“Not yet,” her mother assured. “Why don’t we go check out the moment of Sol? You can learn some fun facts for when you go back to school.”

“Okay!”

Y/n dashed forward, still holding onto her mother’s hand and pulling her along.

They left the golden hour and appeared in the moment of sol. Y/n, who had never been here before– that she remembered– was quickly entranced by the sparkly building of the museum. Her mother laughed as she started wandering off towards one of the hallways.

The large sign above it read “The Watchmaker”.

“Mommy, I want to go-”

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Hurry, hurry, hurry!” A frantic voice called, the sound of someone jumping on the marble floors echoed off the walls.

Turning around the mother daughter duo found a little boy jumping up and down, pointing at the same hall they were about to go down. A gruff looking man, presumably the boy’s father, made his way down the hall at a leisurely place.

“Calm down bud, it’s not going anywhere.”

Without turning around, the little boy started walking backwards, and before anyone realized what was happening he knocked into Y/n.

He wasn’t going fast enough to topple her, but she yelped in pain as he kicked her leg. Her arm jerked up, elbowing him under the chin and making him bite his tongue. Whining in pain, he stuck his tongue out and checked it for blood.

“Sorry,” he apologized, though it was muffled as his tongue hung out of his mouth.

“Oops,” the boy's father said, coming up behind him. “Are you both okay?”

He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, and the boy looked up at him. The man frowned a bit, noticing the teeth dents on his son's tongue, and sighed before turning back to Y/n. Her mother had crouched down to check her leg, even though she didn’t think she’d find anything.

“No bruise,” her mother assured, patting her leg and standing up.

“That’s good. Bud, tongue in your mouth. I know it hurts but we’re in public.”

“It stiiings,” the boy whined, not putting his tongue back in his mouth.

“I’ll get you ice cream, now, tongue in your mouth. Please.” He turned to Y/n’s mom. “Really sorry about that, he doesn’t always watch where he’s going.”

“It’s no worry.” She extended a hand and introduced herself, “and this is Y/n.”

The girl gave a small wave from behind her mother.

“Gallagher, and this is my son…” He looked down, finding his son sticking his tongue out again and going cross-eyed trying to see why it hurt. Gallagher pinched his son's ear, making the boy yelp and close his mouth. “How about I buy you two ice-cream as an apology for all this.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Y/n’s mom assured. “It’s just part of being a kid.”

“Please, I insist.”

“Really it’s-” Y/n tugged sharply on her mother’s sleeve, and the woman crouched down she she could whisper in her ear. Her mother sighed, a fond smile on her face as she shook her head. “Besides,” gallagher spoke again, “it seems like we’re looking at the same exhibit anyways.”

He gestured at the exhibit hall they were still standing in front of.

Before Y/n’s mom could propose an alternative, Gallagher’s son spoke again.

“Dad, ice-cream.”

The boy stuck his tongue out again, a warning.

“Alright, alright,” he laughed.

“I can pay for us,” Y/n’s mother said as the four of them headed towards the little food court.

It was roped off from the rest of the museum, and you weren’t allowed to bring food out to preserve the exhibits.

“Alright, why don’t you two get us a seat?”

Y/n gave a tentative nod, letting go of her mom and looking around for an empty seat.

“There’s one,” Gallagher’s son said, grabbing her hand and pulling her off towards it.

The two parents watched them settle down before getting in line at the snack stall.

“Have we met before?” Y/n’s mom asked, turning away from watching her daughter listen to the young boy sitting beside her.

Gallagher shrugged, almost a bit too fast. Like he was waiting for that question.

“Maybe, I’m part of the bloodhound family.” He lowered his voice, “I was also at your wedding to Mr. Sunday.”

That caught her off guard, and she turned back to the kids. Gallagher’s son was still doing most of the talking, loud enough she could barely make out they were talking about exhibits, but Y/n seemed to be pitching in.

“Thank you for not saying that too loud.”

“No problem.”

The line moved up, letting them order.

When they returned to the table, Gallagher’s son was relaying a story about the Watchmaker that had Y/n completely invested. It was something about a hidden region of the dreamscape and a dragon that-

“Alright bud, ice-cream’s here. But since your tongue seems better, I guess I can-”

“No!”

The boy practically lunged across the table, ramming his knee into the bench. He yelped in pain and sat back down, trying to rub away the tingling sensation while Gallagher just sighed and set the ice-cream in front of him.

“It is a miracle you haven’t broken something.”

“I broke my arm once,” Y/n mumbled, poking at her treat, “it hurt.”

“Really?! That’s so cool, how’d you break it.”

“I fell out of a tree… I wanted to see the baby birds.”

“I’ve never seen a real bird. There aren’t any here on Penacony. Have you seen the origami birds?”

“No,” Y/n shook her head, then took a bite of her treat.

“There’s a bunch in the golden hour, I can show you sometime if you’d like?”

Y/n looked up at her mom.

“It won’t be in the next few days, but I can give Mr. Gallagher my number and we can arrange something.”

“Aww, why not?”

“I’m going to see my daddy,” Y/n’s entire demeanor brightened up. “He’s busy with work, and mommy and I don’t live here anymore, so I don't see him a lot.”

“Your dad’s a pretty cool guy, I work with him sometimes.”

“My daddy is super cool,” Y/n giggled.

Gallagher’s son gasped all of a sudden, startling everyone. “We should invite big bro Misha!”

Gallagher smiled fondly. “We can do that.”

---

“We meet again!” Gallagher greeted, waving as his son ran ahead to greet Y/n.

Y/n’s mother smiled brightly and looked down to Y/n who had tucked herself behind her skirt but was speaking softly with the boy.

“So we do. Thank you, again, for taking her out. I’m sorry I can’t join you but, parenting stuff, you know how it is.”

Gallagher nodded. “Absolutely.” He turned to Y/n, grabbing his son by the collar to pull him back and give her space. “Hey, ready to go?”

She gave a small nod, then looked up at her mother for confirmation. When she got a nod of approval, she slowly stepped away from her and looked up at Gallagher. Y/n almost seemed to be trying to make herself look bigger, the wings by her ears fluffed up and the ones around her waist hovered over her body, more intimidating or just less afraid.

“Can I hold your hand?” She asked, in a steady voice.

“Sure,” he smiled, holding a hand out.

Y/n took it cautiously, still a little unsure but her wings settled down.

“Hey dad, I wanna hold your hand too!”

“I have two hands,” he laughed. “Now let’s get going, Misha’s gonna meet us by the Clockie statue.”

“Bye mommy,” Y/n called back, waving over her shoulder.”

“Bye angel!”

The three left the entry point of golden hour and headed towards the Clockie statue.

Y/n held tightly to Gallagher’s hand while his son quickly let go and moved around to her side. She shrunk into him a bit more, and the boy seemed to pick up on it and backed off a little though he still continued talking animatedly. He was telling her all about this Misha they were going to meet.

They stopped for a quick snack, “dreamlight” mixed sweets, and took a quick detour because Misha was running late.

There was a small fountain they sat on the edge of while they ate, and Gallagher’s son pointed out all the coins along the bottom. He tried counting them, but someone else tossed another coin in and the ripple caused him to lose count.

Y/n and Gallagher laughed at his annoyance, and Gallagher was forced to haul him by the collar of his shirt when he went to lunge at the Pepeshi. They quickly rushed off when the Pepeshi looked up.

Circling back towards the Clockie statue, Gallagher’s son quickly spotted the boy they’d been waiting for.

“Misha!” He yelled, waving wildly as he bounded down the stairs.

Caught up in the boy’s excitement, Y/n tried to follow his pace but missed a step and landed on the ledge of the next. She felt her heart lurch in her body as a strangled squeal escaped her throat as she felt nothing solid under her foot.

Before she could fall, a strong grip grabbed her arm and hauled her back.

She stared wide eyed at the Clockie statue ahead, and the two boys by the bench were none the wiser. Gallagher loosened his grip on her arm and moved to crouch in front of her.

“You okay?” Y/n blinked a few times before making a noise of affirmation. Gallagher brushed her outfit off and gave her a comforting smile. “Good. Let’s take our time on the stairs, ya?”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking the hand he offered and slowly descending the last few stairs.

“Hey, Y/n! Come meet Misha!”