#although this is not how he was seen at the time

[muqingslover]

[ i might not be the biggest Sylus stan out there but the amount of times I've seen him being portrayed as some dark novel alpha daddy is actually outrageous. So, I'm here to give y'all Sylus fans what I believe would be more accurate. ]

What it means to be loved by Sylus

This man would never raise his hand towards his partner. He waited centuries to have you by his side, the very person who taught him how to love, how to live and not just survive. How could he even consider intentionally hurting you?

Sylus is someone who takes care of everything he considers his.

If your feet are aching then he will happily carry you in one arm while the other hand holds your high heels. In fact, if he could, he'd carry you everywhere if it meant always having you in his arms.

Being Sylus' partner means being treated like royalty. If you want something then it's yours. And not only that, it's always the best of the best.

He genuinely enjoys being able to provide for you and watching you live comfortably gives him the best feeling in the world.

Although he is a tease, he wouldn't use hurtful words on purpose and if he noticed something he said upset you he'd always apologize. He's a prideful man, but he will always choose you over everything else, including himself.

Even in his playful remarks about how 'you love him too much to leave', he silently hopes you will reassure him that that's true. He prays, to whoever will listen to an old dragon's pleas, that you keep wanting and needing him by your side as much as he needs you by his.

Being loved by Sylus means being cared for as if you're made out of glass when no one is looking, most of the times not even you. How his knuckles will gently brush the skin of your bare back before moving towards your cheek, his fingers caressing your face while he silent relishes the feeling of you sound asleep next to him. Those small, simple moments are to him the most precious ones.

His sweet heart is so incredibly worried every time you feel under the weather. His large hands would hold your face as if you'd shatter if he wasn't careful as he softly asked you to talk to him. The sight of your tears is enough to make him feel as if he's being ripped apart and he truly hopes you know he's there for you, forever and always.

Learning about what you enjoy so he can be a part of it even if it doesn't fit him at all is all worth it as long as you keep smiling for him. At him.

Sylus is a romantic and gentle partner. He is for those who want to be pampered and reassured that they'll always be the only one for him regardless of eventual fights or time without contact.

[littlefallenrebel]

hm hmm something something cat shifter Simon.

Cat shifter!Simon who's this huge maine-coon, with rough and messy fur, scarred and missing some patches here and there, and with possibly the grumpiest face you've ever seen. His left ear is torn and tail little crooked. Quite frankly, he looks like you just picked him up from the trashcan. Which might as well be close to what happened.

The first time you bring him home, he's just ignoring you for the most time. Claims the lonely armchair in the living room corner and hisses at you from there when you try to offer him food. Swats at you whenever you try to assess his messy fur. Gleaming eyes following your every movement when you busy yourself in the kitchen or watch the telly in the living room.

Cat shifter!Simon who even after a few weeks doesn't let you close, so you stop pestering him. If he won't let you come to him, you'll have to let him come to you.

And surprisingly enough... that seems to work. Slowly, yes, but after some weeks you start to notice how he no longer just glares at you from some corner, now sitting in the kitchen when you cook, loafing on the same couch with you during evenings. He still gives you the side eye when you try to pet him, but the hissing and swatting has lessened.

Eventually Simon starts to follow you around the house more. Always watching what you do. You start to hear the impatient scratching on the bathroom door whenever you shower, often followed by a low mrow.

He even claims a spot at the far corner of your bed, to your surprise. Although, you have more than once gotten jumpscared awake when this big lump of fur has hopped on top of your chest in the middle of the night (he's just happily kneading your chest).

A few months in you start to question though how some of your things seem to deplete quicker than usual. You'd come home from work and your leftovers from the other day were gone. Maybe you just ate them already?

Same with your body wash and shampoos when you headed to shower. Did you really use that big of an amount much these days?

(Meanwhile Simon's fur is looking shinier and smells suspiciously like strawberries and meadow. And was he always that chonky?)

[bloatedandalone04]

Pretty, Red & Lace

Summary: You and Rafe have spent the last three Valentine’s Days together, and this year is no different. Except for the fact that this time, you’re spending it together as husband and wife, and you both plan to make it the best one yet.

Word Count: 2.7k | THANK YOU FOR 5.7K FOLLOWERS !

Warnings: smut ofc, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, spanking cause it’s rafe, dirty talk, swearing, fingering, multiple orgasms.

The last four years have been the best of your life by far, and you knew that the longer you were with Rafe, they would only continue to get better and better. 

You met Rafe during your second year of University, and while he wasn’t a student like you were, you somehow managed to run into each other while you were out getting coffee and he was out trying to find something for his youngest sister’s birthday. 

Although you were already running late for your class, you let him buy you your coffee, then let him convince you to spend the day with him instead of attending your boring four hour long lecture.

It was safe to say that you didn’t need much convincing at all. He was young, attractive, and he bought you your coffee and a bagel. How could you say no? 

After you got into his truck and spent a good two hours helping him pick out something for his sister, you gave him your number and told him to call you sometime, and he ended up calling you the next morning. 

One breakfast date later, you were head over heels for him, and the rest is history. 

Now, four years later, you had long since graduated, moved in with Rafe, and began starting your life together. In August of last year, he proposed to you in the cutest way imaginable, and around November of the same year, you were married. 

For your first Valentine’s Day as husband and wife, Rafe went all out. Well, more than he usually did. He booked the most expensive and nicest resort he could find, and put in a reservation for a whole week. He planned to spoil the ever living fuck out of you, once again, more than he usually does. 

After a fancy and rather expensive dinner at one of the many restaurants the resort has, Rafe took you back to the massive suite, where he loosened a few buttons on his shirt and kissed you for a good ten minutes. You stayed behind while he went off to go get more champagne, and you decided now was a great time to strip out of your dress and put on one of the many lingerie sets you brought with you. 

The one you chose was a pretty shade of red, Rafe’s favorite color, and you felt giddy as you slipped into it, knowing he would lose his fucking mind over you and probably forget all about opening whatever bubbly drink he brings back with him. 

When you heard the door open again a few minutes later and saw him walk in with a bottle of pink champagne, you grinned to yourself as you moved towards the big bed he’d already fucked you in more than once since you checked in yesterday morning. 

The bottle nearly slipped from his hand when he saw you, his eyes instantly darkening as he took in your barely covered form. The lacy bra did practically nothing to cover your breasts, let alone your nipples since they could be seen through the thin fabric. The matching thong also did nothing to cover your ass, which was perfect since Rafe’s had a thing for that part of you ever since you got together. In fact, it was the first thing he noticed about you while he was standing behind you in the line at the coffee shop you met at, and he shamelessly told you that on your first date. 

Your stunning features and sweet yet sarcastic personality were what had drawn him in though.

As the door closed behind him, you leaned against one of the four posts of the bed, crossing one leg over the other as you lifted your hand and waved your fingers at him. “Hi, baby,” 

Rafe’s eyes roamed over your nearly naked body, taking in every inch of skin showing through the red lace. He was already hard as he gazed down at the length of your thighs, and the small piece of fabric that barely hid your core from him. “Hi, gorgeous,” he said back, setting the bottle down on the table near the door to be forgotten about until he had his fill of you. “Fuck, baby, you look stunning. My stunning, sexy, perfect wife.” he mumbled, and when he reached you, he gently grabbed your chin in between his fingers and guided your mouth to his in a deep kiss. 

You moaned against his lips, kissing him back as his hands wrapped around your waist. “Just wanted to wear something nice for you,” you whispered when you pulled back, and both yours and his lips were glistening with each other’s saliva. “I know how much you love red, and when I saw this the other day, I couldn’t help myself.”  

Rafe groaned as you pressed your body right up against him, and he looked down at your cleavage that was flush against his chest. His hands slide down to your hips as he pulls you impossibly closer, his thumbs teasing the lining of your thong. “You look fucking hot,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to your shoulder. 

You weren’t surprised when his hands slid further down to your ass and squeezed firmly, but you were a little caught off guard when Rafe spun you around and pushed you down gently onto your stomach on the bed. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbled, taking in the sight of you bent over the end of the king sized bed, your barely covered ass on full display to his greedy eyes as he moved towards you. His fingers traced the thin line of the thong that emerged from your soft skin, and then he wrapped it around his index and middle fingers and pulled on it so it was pressed right up against your core. 

You whined and writhed on your stomach, your eyes wide in excitement and anticipation as his other hand slid up the length of your spine. He leaned over you and placed open-mouthed kisses along the nape of your neck as you whimpered, and your clit throbbed against the flimsy lace that was quickly beginning to dampen. 

Rafe finally loosened his grip on the material before he stepped back, his fingers hooking into the sides of the thong as he slowly pulled it down your legs. “Mmm, you’re even pretty back here,” he whispered, guiding the useless piece of fabric around your ankles before he tossed it aside. “Such a pretty pussy.”

You whimpered softly as the cool air of the room hit your exposed core, and you were already so wet for him. “Rafe,” you whined, knowing he was probably going to take his time and really try to drag it out tonight, and while that thought only added to your excitement, you also weren’t sure how much longer you could go without his mouth on you. “I need you. Please…”

Rafe smirked down at you before his hand lightly slapped your ass, making your body jolt forward as you gasped. He grinned, trailing his fingers along your inner thighs as he knelt down on the floor behind you. “Shh, baby, I’ve got you,” he murmured, leaning in to press soft kisses all over your reddening skin, “You know I always take care of you.”

His fingers part your slick folds, and he hums at the wetness that instantly coated his digits. He circles your clit with his thumb, applying barely any pressure at all and teasing you further, making you whine some more.

“Please,” you begged again, desperate for something, anything at this point. “I need you, baby, please? I’m so wet for you, Rae. I need you so badly. Taste me, give me your fingers, fuck me, anything. Please.”

He lets out a deep laugh before finally giving in, and he slips two of his fingers inside you. “Like that, baby?” he rasps, pumping his index and middle fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. Rafe’s thumb went back to circling your clit as he worked you open with his fingers, and his eyes stayed fixated on the way your arousal dripped down his hand. “Fuck, you are wet, huh?” he teased, stretching out your tight walls as best as he could before he pulled his fingers out. 

You lift your head and look over your shoulder, watching with parted lips as he brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean of you. Then he leaned in and licked a stripe up your folds, parting them with his tongue. 

“Oh…fuck yes,” you gasped, your head falling forward once again as he ate you out from behind. You buried your face in the sheets as you subtly wiggled back against him, silently encouraging him to full on devour you. “God, yes, Rae, your mouth is so good. You’re so good to me.” 

Rafe hummed against you, sending delicious vibrations through your core. His mouth moved to your clit, where he sucked and flicked at it with his tongue while he pushed his two fingers back inside you. “Mm, you taste so fucking good,” he praised, gently tugging on your puffy clit with his teeth as he fucked his fingers in and out of you faster. 

Your cry of pleasure was music to his ears, and his cock throbbed almost painfully in his boxers. You were so hot, so drunk off the feeling of his mouth and fingers, Rafe would never get tired of hearing the sweet, sexy sounds you only made for him. 

“I can feel you getting tighter,” he murmured, putting a little more effort into the thrusts of his hand as he felt you clench tightly around his fingers. “Let me taste you, baby. Cum all over my face.”

Your legs started to shake as you fisted the sheets in your hands, your moans growing louder as you got closer and closer. “Rafe, fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop, baby, fuck,” you begged, and the knot that had been building up inside you tightened with every passing second until you let out a soft scream into the sheets as you came. 

Rafe worked you through your high, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of you as he licked and lapped at your dripping pussy. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed, pulling away from you once your trembles became less intense. His lips and chin were glistening from your release, and he waited until you were a quivering mess draped over the end of the bed before he pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean again. “You okay, sweet girl?” 

You nodded slowly, your legs still shaking as you stayed on your stomach. “I’m good,” you answered, lifting your hand in a thumbs up that earned you another deep laugh. “You’re way too good at that, Rafe. Like, stupidly good at it, you know that?”

“Well, when you have a pussy that’s as perfect as yours, it’s hard to hold back,” he replied, rubbing his palm over the red handprint he’d left on your skin before he gripped your hips and rolled you onto your back. Your hair was messy now, your makeup was a little smudged, and one of your bra straps was off your shoulder, but you were still the prettiest thing Rafe had ever seen. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby.”

You were still a little breathless as you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he unbuttoned his shirt, kicked off his slacks, and pushed his boxers down his legs. His cock was rock hard and already leaking for you as it brushed against his abs, and you bit down on your lip as he crawled on top of you. 

His big hands wrapped around your biceps and moved you a bit further up the bed until your head was just below the pillows, and then he reached around you for the clasp of your bra. He slid the straps down your arms and let it join the rest of the clothing that was scattered around the floor, and his hands were instantly on your newly exposed skin. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he muttered, his thumbs and index fingers gently rolling your nipples until they pebbled under his touch. “Want me to fuck you now, baby? Are you ready for me?”

You nodded quickly, spreading your thighs for him to settle in between them, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Yes,” you answered, draping your arms around his shoulders as he guided the tip of his cock towards your entrance. 

When he thrusts forward and sinks into you, a moan of relief leaves both yours and his mouth as he bottoms out inside you. “Oh fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he slowly pulled back, only to push deep inside you once again. “So tight and wet for me.”

Rafe leaned in and kissed you, his tongue brushing against yours as he fucked you a little harder, making you moan against his mouth. You wrapped your arms tighter around his shoulders and hiked your thighs up higher around his waist as he rocked into you, the increasing intensity of his thrusts making you feel light headed. 

Your hand runs over his prickly hair, his decision to buzz all his hair off before this trip turning out to be a fucking great one, because he looked hot as hell. “Oh, my God, you feel so fucking good,” you whined against his lips as he held you in place for his thrusts.

He broke the kiss and looked down at you, watching the way your tits bounced gently with every thrust. “Yeah, you like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you? Love it when I fuck you hard, huh?” 

You nodded at his words, your eyes barely open as you looked up at him. “Mmhmm, I love it,” you agreed, making the corners of his lips turn upwards before he leaned back down and kissed you again. 

One big hand stayed planted on your hip while he braced his other one beside your head, using the leverage to be able to fuck you a little harder and deeper. His hips hit yours over and over again, the slick sound of your bodies coming together echoing around the room and mixing with your needy whines and his deep grunts. 

“Fuck, your pussy’s so good,” he moaned against your mouth, becoming equally as drunk off you as you were with him. A breathless laugh escaped your lips when his hands slid under you to grip your ass again, and he lifted you slightly to meet his thrusts. “I’m gonna cum soon…fuck, you feel too good.”

He pressed his forehead against yours as you moaned loudly, your own orgasm not far away either as he fucked you so good. Your hands moved to his face, your fingers brushing along his jaw as you felt your body begin to tense up again. “I love you,” you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut as your back arched, and a few seconds later, you came for the second time.

Rafe groaned, burying his face against your neck as he felt your warmth flood around him, and he quickened his pace. “I love you,” he said back, pressing firm kisses to your shoulder before he let out a deep, guttural moan as he came inside you. He continued to thrust shallowly, ensuring not a drop escaped you, before he finally stilled. “Fuck. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

You laughed when he rolled onto his side, making his softening cock slip out of you, and when he lifted his arm, you crawled towards him. He laced his fingers with yours and brought your hand up to his mouth, where he pressed multiple kisses to your engagement ring and wedding band. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” you said back, snuggling against his chest as you both tried to regain control over your breathing. 

And, like you predicted, once Rafe had his fill of you, he wandered back over to where he left the bottle of the now warm champagne, and you spent the rest of the night sipping on it in between hated make out sessions.

-

Happy Valentine’s Day ❤️ @broosterradley @rafesbabycakes @kartoonzking @rafesdreamgal @bxresford

[thatoneautisticshark]

You asked for... Asks (I don't know how to properly word this) a while back, I have one for you. Idk if you still want it but-

You did oral fixation!Ghost with Price but... Maybe Price is tired one day? Needs a nap, not in the mood, ect, so what does he do? I mean, he's got a pair of rowdy Sargents who are more than willing to help Simon out.

Doesn't matter if you write it or not, just wanted to say I really like your work! <3 u buby grill

This is absolutely a fabulous idea, I adore it. And yes I am adoring getting asks. So I give you technically the next part. Aka Baby boy Simon gets the spoiling he deserves

Simon sat curled up on the couch of his captain, in one of Price's oversized shirts, just resting, not asleep but not fully awake.

Everything was a bit much, all the paperwork and missions, he just needed a relax, to drop the reins and be ordered gently. And preferably have something in his mouth.

Unfortunately Price was just not up for it today, not in the headspace to Dom. Which was annoying but it was what it was. Simon wasn't gonna be a dick and push boundaries.

He was just curled on the couch, while Price was out looking for Gaz. Gaz had accidentally walked in on them twice and knew of their arrangement, and considering some things he had said, they reckoned he'd want to be involved.

Although Simon couldn't imagine the awkward convo that was going down. Because he doubted Price would just say “Hey Garrick, do you want your lieutenant sucking your dick? Cause he is wanting to sub, but I'm not in the mood.” As funny as it would be.

Simon blinked as he received a text, picking up his phone, to look at the message from Price.“Do you want Soap too? Gaz knows he has the hots for you”

He had to re-read it several times before answering. He knew he should say no, not turn the team into even more of a fuck group then it was becoming. But the thought of those hands in his hair, that Scottish voice praising him, had him sending a thumbs up.

It took maybe five minutes for the door to open and the three men to enter. Price at the front, the two sergeants at the back, and Soap paused, staring at Simon, and it took a minute for him to realise it was because soap had never seen his face.

“Bloody ‘ell LT, ye right Bonnie” and Simon immediately knew his face was flushing from the giggle from Gaz as the sergeants sat on the couch.

It took a minute of awkward silence before Gaz broke it. “Soo.. uh the cap said you're needing some stress relief?...And uh.. you have an.. oral fixation right?”

Simon nodded, having forgot how awkward first arrangements and sex discussions were, it having been years and years since anything was awkward with him and Price.

“Uhm… yeah.. just like …. Subbing …” He trailed off awkwardly. Rubbing the back off his neck, really wishing he had the mask to cover his flaming face.

Soap looked like he won the lottery, with a big grin. “So you like subbing? Like soft or hard Dom. Also are you a brat or like a soft sub” Well at least Soap knew actual terms that gave Simon some hope.

Price cut in before he could answer “He is very much a soft sub, very sweet. Gentle orders get him going, he likes having things in his mouth and praise.”

Simon flushed again, nodding, but was grateful he didn't have to actually say it himself.

Soap nodded. “Okay, easy done. Gaz, you want his mouth on you?”

The man in question nodded, as Soap moved to sit on the floor, before patting his lap for Simon to sit on.

He could already feel the pleasant buzz of dropping into subspace, the way he wanted to follow the ask without question, dropping and crawling to Soap's lap.

The Scot let his hands wander a minute before settling on the Brits hips. “Jesus I've dreamed o’ this, Ghost.”

Gaz sat on the couch, Simon on soaps' lap between his legs. His dark skin was slightly tinted pink, with his eyes eager.

Meanwhile, Price sat back on his bed, looking over the top of his book, at his boy being spoiled. He could already see the tension leaving Simons body.

Simon let his head be tilted up by Gaz, looking at at him through his lashes. “Oh Jesus. Price wasn't kidding, you are beautiful like this.” He murmured, stroking Simons cheeks. “Yeah, you just need to drop the reins a bit? Be cared for like the sweet boy you are.”

Simon gave a soft hum, almost a moan. He was a sweet boy, and deserved this. All stress, and thoughts of his paperwork slowly drifted away, leaving him settled in soaps' lap, and having Gaz’s thumb gently pushed into his mouth.

He sucked on it, hollowing his cheeks, licking the finger tip, prompting a swear from the man above him. Gaz groaned “Bloody hell, Ghost. Can't wait to get those soft lips around my cock”

The finger in Simon's mouth pulled away, as Gaz fumbled his belt undone. When he whined, Soap slipped on of his own rough fingers in, resting it on the tongue.

“Needy aren't you bon?” he murmered slipping his spare hand under the soft shirt, Ghosting fingers over the nipples peaking in the cold.

Simon moaned around the digit in his mouth, letting his head fall against the thigh of Gaz.

Gaz immediately, gently tugged his head up by the hair. “Your mouth all ready for this cock, baby?” He cooed, stroking himself, spreading the precum around the tip, before placing it on his Lieutenants tongue.

He was clearly being super careful, unsure of Simons ability, and that just wouldn't do. Simon moved forward, his nose burying in the soft curls at the base, as it hit the back of his throat. He heard the punched out breath from below him, and Gaz’s breathy swear as his head flopped against the couch.

But barely noticed, already so deep. His one track mind was simply on the warm weight in his mouth, the girth stretching his lips wonderfully, his gag reflex trying to react to the intrusion as he bobbed his head.

The hand on his hips gripped tighter, and he registered Soaps' hips bucking and grinding against his arse with soft moans. Gaz hands were still tugging his hair wonderfully.

He barely registered his vision getting fuzzy and black at the edges, until Price's voice from his bed rang out “Get him to breathe Gaz. He isn't breathing”

He heard an ever so slightly panicked squeak from the man above before his head was gently pulled back by the hair.

Soaps hands moving from his hips to tap his cheek. “Breathe Bonnie.”He coughed slightly, tears streaming his cheeks from gagging.

When he looked up, he met the worried deep brown eyes of Gaz. “You solid?”

Simon nodded, slightly moaning “Solid. We can keep going.” He dove back down, sucking Gaz's balls, using his hand to jerk the length while letting his throat rest a second.

Soaps hips slowly began moving against his arse again, as Gaz pulled him back down to the cock, nearing completion.

“Such a good fucking boy. You take my dick like you were made for it love.” Simons moan around the dick was the undoing of Gaz. The younger man tried to tug Simon off, because you don't just cum down a man's throat with no warning.

But Simon shook his head as Gaz tensed and came.

He pulled off with a vulgar pop, tilting his head back and kissing Soap, watching the mans face as he drank down Gaz's cum.

The hips against his arse stuttered as Soap rutted to completion, burying his face in Simon's shoulder with a moan.

Simon barely registered being picked up and moved to the bed, cleaned up and tucked in. When he really came too, and he was on Prices chest, Gaz's arm across them, and Soaps head on his thigh, he decided this was the best place to be.

[mistyresolve]

| Valentines Day - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Reader

Word Count - 1.7K

Summary - What a valentines with Simon might look like.

Tags/Warnings - Established relations, Mentions of the narsty and some heavy petting, interrupted

A/N - welp...it was supposed to be a valentines post but uhhh...I got busy

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

You and Simon had a routine for the mornings. There was an unspoken agreement that the first person to get out of bed was to make breakfast. Since you were both early risers, it was usually a 50/50 chance that you’d be the one making breakfast. Although, you liked it more when Simon cooked. He would die if you told the rest of the 141, but he was a good cook. It was never anything fancy or over the top, but everything he made was delicious. His go-to was the regular bacon, eggs, and toast. He made your eggs just how you liked them—Crispy around the edges and the yolk runny enough to dip your toast into it.    

The clock on your bedside table read 07:17. It was later than you usually woke up, but you and Simon were up late the night before. An “early Valentine's gift,” he had said, before he took you into the bedroom and worshiped your body. Made you a quivering mess beneath him.  

Looking at his sleeping form, you could tell he put his all into it. Into you. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile from your mouth as you brushed his hair back from his face. It was the longest you’d ever seen it, curling at the tips of his ears and furling down his neck. There was no real reason for him to follow the mandatory military cut since no one ever saw it. Although, he claimed he preferred it short because it was more comfortable underneath the mask. 

He looked so calm when he was asleep. Younger even. The worries and stresses that drew lines between his brows didn’t follow him into sleep. Not tonight, anyway. However, no amount of rest would ever be able to erase the dark shadows under his eyes, a permanent mark of exhaustion.        

You slid out from his embrace with utmost care to not stir him awake. He huffed a sigh and shoved his now-empty hand underneath the pillow, subconsciously searching for a new source of warmth, but he didn't wake. You tip-toed into the ensuite, clicking the door shut behind you to quiet the noises of you getting ready for the day. You had a quick shower, washing away the remnants of last night, albeit reluctantly. 

By the time you entered the room again, Simon was sitting over the edge of the bed. Still half asleep and only managing to keep one eye open. He must have opened the curtains at some point because the room was now basking in the morning light. The sunlight climbed up the bed and warmed the sheets. 

“Good morning,” you said as you made your way to stand in front of him. He immediately reached out for you, pulling you between his legs and letting his face rest on your chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and cradled his head into you. With nimble fingers, you combed into his hair. He breathed deeply, groaning, inhaling your fresh, clean scent. 

You stayed like that for a while. Long enough to think he fell back asleep like this, with his arms wrapped around you. You scratched playfully at his scalp to get his attention, “What are you wanting for breakfast?”   

He looked up at you with bleary eyes and shook his head, “I’ll cook this morning. It’s valentines.”      

You leaned back to get a better look at him. “I got up first, and you’ve already given me my gift.”

“Mhm,” he straightened and came to life at the hint of a dispute, “That wasn’t all I was intending to give you.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “I’m serious–” 

He stood and put a hand over your mouth to keep you from arguing further, “I’m serious.”

You pulled your head from his grasp. “Okay,” you said, searching for a compromise he would accept. “What if you make the food and I make the coffee?” 

He played with the still-wet strands of your hair, twirling it around his finger and letting it fall into a curl, “Hmm, sure.” 

You padded after him into the kitchen, oogling his bare, muscled back all the way. Noting the symmetrical red lines that were etched into his back. Something akin to pride burned in your chest, and you bit your lip to keep a smile from spreading across your face. 

You press a single button on the coffee machine and let it run. Then, you sit at the island and watch as Simon starts breakfast. 

He moved with the same grace he did with everything. Every move was thoughtful and calculated, even for something as simple as cracking an egg. 

A devious idea popped into your head. You weren’t that hungry for food.       

“I love it when you moan,” you sighed, pretending the statement was innocent. 

He froze at the stove before spinning on a heel to look at you. His eyes were wide with shock and confusion, “Pardon me?” he said incredulously. 

“You know when my legs are wrapped around your waist, and you're pounding into me,” you slid off the chair and walked around the island, his dark eyes following you, “When you say the dirtiest thing to me, and I tighten around you.”

His graze flashed from you to the stove, then back to you, and narrowed, “What are you doing?”

You took a step forward, locked your fingers behind your back, and pushed your chest up towards him. “I can stop,” you said, tilting your head up to him. He was so tall, and you loved it. If you could climb this man like a tree, you would. 

You could practically see his resolve disintegrating, and he fought to keep his eyes drifting from yours. 

With fingers chilled from the morning air, you slid them up this barren skin. The corded muscle of his abs tightened under your touch, and he tried to cover up his surprise with a chuckle. Only it came out more nervous than he had intended it to. 

He responded to your advances with an enthusiasm that knocked your breath from your lungs. He had his fingers wrapped around the back of your knees, making a noise to signal you to jump up. He gracefully placed you on the island and nestled his hips between yours. With an experimental roll of your hips, you felt his arousal.  

His mouth slanted over yours, and he pulled the hair at the base of your neck to maneuver your head how he needed to. He nipped at your bottom lip before working his way down your neck. You sighed in bliss at the feel of him.   

Behind him, a familiar smell of char wafted from the pan. You were so engrossed in each other that you missed the first few signs of burning food. At the same time, you looked over his shoulder as flames from the propane stove started to lick up the side of the pan. 

Faster than you’d ever seen him move, he was flicking on the fan above the stove and pulling the pan from the heat. You were jumping off the counter and rushing to open the patio door for him. Without a doubt, you were going to brag to everyone who would listen, the scary calm demeanour with which he placed the pan on the concrete stairs.  

He straightened and stared down at the pan. His face was unreadable, and his hands resting on his waist was a comedic scene. He was still shirtless, and his shorts sat low enough on his hips that you could see the waistband of his briefs underneath. 

“Baby,” you said slowly, trying to hide the humour. You walk to stand in front of him and obscure the view on the pan.  “It’s okay. I didn’t really want eggs anyway.”  

The pan had followed you and been by your side throughout your college days. It had been the only pan you had for years after. A go-to. It made perfectly crispy chicken and the most incredible sauces. 

“It’s okay,” you patted his chest and pressed a chaste kiss to one of the myriad scars that scattered across his skin. “We’ve got leftovers." You couldn’t help but smile at him. 

As you reach the fridge, the tips of his ears turn bright red—a telltale sign of embarrassment, rare as it is. You pause, your suspicions rising at his reaction. “What?” 

He just shook his head and pursed his mouth, gesturing with his hand for you to open the fridge. 

Confused, you slowly opened the door, the light from inside flipping on. 

A bouquet. A very large bouquet that took up half of the bottom shelf. You noticed he must have had to shift the shelves above it to fit it in there without damaging any stems or petals. It was a breathtaking arrangement of white and light purple flowers and an assortment of greenery.

”Simon,” you whispered in awe, reaching for the vase.

”I-uhh,” he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, “Yesterday was the only time I could pick it up. But I wanted to have something to give you today, so the florist told me to find a fridge to put them in to keep them as fresh as possible. I was going to give them to you after breakfast was done. " He jerked his chin to the patio. Well, it is done. I done it to death, actually.” 

You set them out on the island, and the sun crawling across the marble made the colours pop. You clamped your mouth shut, realizing you were gapping. You had never received such a large bouquet before. Spinning the vase to fully examine the flowers, you found the card nestled into the greenery.  

A little card, and all he had written on it was ‘Simon’

Not ‘Love, Simon’ or ‘Happy Valentin’s’. 

Just ‘Simon’

You turned back to him and grabbed his face before diving in for one last kiss, “My god, I love you.” 

Masterlist

A/N - Happy late valentines

[partiallysame]

OK OK OKK JUUSTT LISTEN TO ME ON THIS ONE PLEAASEEEE. what about price's lil missus (or mister, we're gender inclusive here!) getting captured by makarov and being held for ransom. NEED to see this in your writing

No you’re so right Price’s lil missus can also be his lil mister. His lil love his lil dove. Not sure if I’ve used pronouns other than the term missus but we are inclusive here (also it’s on my list to write more male reader too)

Ok ok ok I think when the boys first moved in Simon was appalled at the lack of security. He immediately put in alarms on the doors and a tracker on your car (with your concern although he would’ve even if you said no. Safety is not an option). You had turned the beep on the front door off bc that’s annoying to hear everytime you open it buttttt if the door was ever left open for too long Simon would get an alert in his phone. Usually just you leaving it open when doing something in the yard or grabbing something from your car buttt this time he got the notification and checked the cameras to see you being carried kicking and screaming into a suv. Suddenly they’re in a military humvee tracking the car on traffic cameras. Price cursing himself bc he kept you a secret for a reason. Covert ops meant a covert personal life was the safest option.

While you were Price’s sweet dove you were anything but docile he simply wouldn’t leave you alone for work without knowing you could protect yourself. Makarov was not expecting the sweet lil thing his men grabbed to somehow get a knife into two of his men. But you know, gun pressed to your head helps everyone calm down. So you found yourself tied up in a dark room. The idiot Russian barely had a moment to take the ransom photo before he heard the gunshots outside. The door was exploded open (not their first idea but the fastest). On the way to you they had to discuss how to handle the situation bc they always did their best to make sure civilians weren’t harmed in this situation but now it’s you. It’s the sweet love of their lives. They wanted to rescue you without adding more trauma than already caused. Before the dust settles from the door you saw Johnny full tac gear. A uniform you’ve only ever seen in photos. Emerging behind him was Kyle and a man in a skeleton mask. Johnny found your gaze, his hand motioned over his own eyes, signaling you to close yours. You did and the room got so unbelievably loud. Eyes shut tight, you felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting and carrying you from the room and the noise. When the ringing in your ears stopped enough you could hear your husband’s voice trying to coax you to open your eyes. His hands working to untie you, too scared to bring a knife near you to just cut the restraints off. When you finally opened your eyes, he watched your body untense. Body falling into his only to feel more arms wrap around you from the back. Sobs falling from you and the men around you. Not so big tough when it comes to your life. You looked down and could see the skeleton mask resting on the floor. “Spooky mask Simon.” Your lil quip brought a small smile to their faces. You were ok. You were safe and still yourself. As they guided you to the humvee you tried to turn to look at where you were being held hostage “no nope nope eyes forward sweetheart” just because you were forced to experience some of their job didn’t mean they wanted you to see all of it. They had been chasing makarov for so long but his mistake of coming after Prices lil wife caused him a bullet (or 4) to the head

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Hello again wonderful person of the Internet!

Thank you for answering my previous question! But I have came to you for another one.

So I’ve seen a little bit of dialogue from Ford, but how does he speak? Like what is his speaking mannerisms? Is it all gibberish? Does he stutter? Does he repeat words?

Keep on making your art and being awesome! :)

~ Question asked from the Tiniest Cyclops ~

Hello, hello again, tiny cyclops in my inbox!

As I mentioned in this post where I go a bit more in depth on Ford's brain injury, Ford suffers from aphasia! Which is basically the loss of one's ability to express language and communicate, while not losing the ability to understand it. But I'm sure you already knew this; and if not, the more you know!

How does he speak? It really depends when you were to go up and talk to him in the timeline. His speech mannerisms the few following years right after his head trauma is very different from how he speaks now in canon! He's had 30 years to recover, after all.

Ford's speech right after his injury was practically non-exitstent. He was smacked in the face with all of the textbook definition symptoms of aphasia, ramped up to 100.

Speaking in short or incomplete sentences.

Speaking in sentences that don't make sense.

Substituting one word for another or one sound for another.

Speak unrecognizable words.

Have difficulty finding words.

Conversations with him back then were not "gibberish" per se, but more so just... slow. And frustrating for everyone involved, although no one could ever be more frustrated than Ford himself. I mean, can you imagine? He could barely say anything without monumental effort, and whatever meager words he managed to squeeze out of his throat were lackluster, to say the least. Every part of his speech were hindered: grammar, pronunciation, heck, even the tone, volume and rythm of his speech didn't always come out correctly.

Due to how recent his brain injury was, there was also the added physical impairments to his speech. The muscles involved in producing speech were weakened, affecting Ford's control and clarity of his words (this is also called: dysarthria).

From an outsider's perspective, listening to him would have felt a little like listening to an extremely corrupted audio file, or a faulty record player. He would often take long pauses in the middle of his words; his words sometimes blended into one another; and his sentences were short, and simple. I think this quote from this website explains it best.

"Speech may be 'telegraphic' omitting small words such as 'the'. So, 'tomorrow I'm going to the pub with my wife for our anniversary', may be expressed as 'tomorrow...pub... wife... anniversary'. This requires the listener to accurately piece the message together."

So, yeah! As you can imagine, speaking for him was extremely hard. Often times, the townfolk he tried to speak to didn't have the patience to stick around while he finished a sentence, and gradually even Ford lost patience with himself, so he just. Gave up. Which was why he used to be much quieter in the beginning, lurking around town wordlessly, not even really bothering even when someone tried to initiate conversation with him. For a genius who once prided himself so much of his eloquence, losing that ability was a huge blow for him.

How fast one recovers from aphasia really depends on the severity of the injury. It can either take up to a few hours, days, maybe even weeks to fully reover with no long term repercussions, or the symptoms can last months, even years to shake off, and occasionally it's a lifelong condition. Ford, due to the severity of his injury, drew the short end of the stick, and was stuck with the lingering aftereffects of aphasia pretty much forever.

BUT, he evenutally managed to find the will to speak again! At some point during his 30 years of recovery, he decided that he'll figure this shit out himself, goddamnit, he was a scientist. He outsmarted a demon! He didn't have time to be depressed, he needed to relearn how to SPEAK!! (fuck yeah, determination, baby).

And learn he did. Very painfully, very gradually, Ford became basically his own speech therapist for a few decades and relearned everything his body and brain forgot. And although the results aren't perfect- he still stutters, he still gets stuck on words and he still stumbles over them- considering the fact that he had no professional treatment from a clinic or doctor available, it was good enough.

Now he won't shut up! (lovingly)

[leonastarry]

{ 16 } Troublemaker ✧. ┊    s.jinwoo x fem!reader

Jinwoo never thought he would encounter a day like today.

He had fought countless monsters, faced the strongest avengers, and even stood on the edge of life and death many times. But nothing had prepared him for the current situation:

A four-year-old child, chubby cheeks, messy hair, big, sparkling eyes… was sitting on the sofa in his house.

And that child was you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It all started from an unknown hell gate. While Jinwoo and you were fighting monsters, out of carelessness, an orc shot his magic at you and you were hit. Jinwoo immediately ordered Beru and Igris to go to you, while he went to kill them all.

He quickly turned around and asked Igris about your condition. Igris hesitated. Jinwoo's eyes darkened, but before he could say anything, a childish voice interrupted him.

At Igris' feet, a child poked his head out, wearing loose clothes, looking at him with curious eyes.

"Jinwoo?" You blinked, your childish voice rang out.

Jinwoo was stunned. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Wait… Don't tell me…"

You puffed up in frustration. "Don't laugh at me!"

Jinwoo swallowed back the laughter that was rising in his throat. Taking care of a baby was hard enough, but taking care of you—a super naughty baby version—was definitely worse.

"Dang…"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After bringing you home, Jinwoo discovered a terrifying truth.

You had too much energy.

Jinwoo quickly realized that babysitting was not easy. You were an extremely mischievous child, and although your memories seemed to be intact, your personality was exactly like that of a real child.

You ran around everywhere, climbing on chairs, rummaging through cabinets, and even trying to get into the refrigerator to find cakes. Jinwoo thought about summoning Beru to help, but then he realized that would only make things… more chaotic.

Jinwoo sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can you sit still for a bit?"

You pouted, placing your hands on your hips. "No! I want to play!"

Jinwoo felt a not-so-light headache.

"Jinwoo oppa! I'm hungry!" You exclaimed, holding your stomach.

He sighed, rummaging through the fridge for something easy for kids to eat. Finally, Jinwoo placed a small cake on the table.

"Here, eat slowly."

But you didn't seem to want to eat slowly. You took a big bite, your eyes shining. "So delicious!"

Jinwoo watched you eat, smiling slightly. In this brief moment, he felt that you were really… cute. But just as he was about to enjoy this quiet—

"Done! I want to play more!"

Jinwoo rubbed his temples.

"Haiz…"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

While Jinwoo was racking his brain trying to figure out how to get you to take a nap, you came up with a new idea.

You looked around the room, your mischievous gaze falling on Jinwoo's three loyal bodyguards: Beru, Igris, and Bellion.

A mischievous smile appeared on your lips.

_____________

Fifteen minutes later.

_____________

"M-My Liege…" Beru’s voice trembled as he looked down at the pale pink princess dress he had just been forced to wear.

Beside him, Igris kept his cool expression, but he couldn’t hide his embarrassment as he wore a pink headband with a giant bow on his head.

The most pitiful one was Bellion—Jinwoo’s most dignified general—wearing a sparkling tutu, holding a small doll in his hand.

Jinwoo almost dropped his teacup when he saw the scene before him.

You—in the form of a four-year-old child—were sitting in the middle of the living room, calling yourself ‘Princess’, and forcing Jinwoo’s three strongest guards to attend the ‘Princess Tea Party’.

"Sit down! The Princess commands!"

Beru, Igris, and Bellion looked at each other helplessly, then reluctantly sat down on the tiny chairs you had arranged.

Jinwoo felt his soul leave his body.

He had seen Beru crush his enemies in battle, Igris confront the strongest enemies, and Bellion lead a mighty army.

But today… they were sitting holding plastic cups of tea, wearing princess dresses, and pretending to drink tea with a four-year-old child.

This scene, he would definitely never forget.

"Jinwoo oppa! You have to join too!" You suddenly called out to him.

Jinwoo immediately shook his head. "No way."

But then you looked at him with sparkling eyes, pouting your lips, and mumbled, "Don't you love me?"

Jinwoo's heart stopped.

He sighed, then reluctantly sat down next to you.

Immediately, you placed a plastic crown on Jinwoo's head, then clapped your hands happily. "You're the Prince now! You have to pour tea for the Princess!"

Jinwoo looked at the pink plastic cup of tea in front of him, then looked at his three pitiful bodyguards.

He never thought he would fall into this situation.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After almost an hour of pretending to drink tea and talking about 'noble' things like 'who's the most beautiful princess' (you forced everyone to choose you), Jinwoo finally managed to coax you into taking a nap.

Beru, Igris, and Bellion immediately took off their decorations, each with a different expression:

Beru: "I…I feel like my honor has been severely damaged, My Liege!"

Igris: "…I've never been through such a difficult battle before."

Bellion: "…Please forget about this."

Jinwoo laughed.

He looked at you—who was curled up in the blanket, sleeping soundly with an innocent face—and gently patted your head.

Even though today was a bit chaotic, seeing you so happy, he felt…it wasn't so bad.

Anyway, maybe one day, you'll come back as an adult, and he'll tell this story to tease you for the rest of your life.

Jinwoo smiled.

Today was truly a memorable day.

Maybe I wouldn't be able to write in 2 months

[randomthefox]

Absolutely my favorite cutscene in the entire game. There's so much to MICRO ANALYZE about it! My favorite thing to do ^^

Why Shadow. You look like you've seen a ghost.

The way he looks at her when he recognizes it's her. It's just so perfect. He's in total disbelief. It has been twenty years since ShTH, twenty years since he moved on from all that pain and trauma. And now she's back, staring him in the face. He doesn't know HOW to feel about it.

The way he fucking BACKS AWAY FROM HER when she runs up to hug him! He isn't HAPPY about this reunion, he's SCARED of it. Scared that it's perhaps some kind of trick that he shouldn't trust as really happening. Scared of letting down his emotional barriers and accepting it as a real event, and being hurt by that vulnerability. Scared of losing her all over again. The way they conveyed his emotional state of mind via his expressions and body language is SUPERB.

This could have been SO EASY to fuck up. It would have been so easy for them to have some trite bullshit hokey reunion where Shadow goes "Maria ='D " and tearfully embraces her, oh pinch me this must be a dream! (You know, like what they did in fucking Archie)

Golly, you know, if you were to tell me that the person who wrote this piece of trash garbage stupid idiot comic book was also the same person who wrote Shadow Generations, I would be forced to conclude that you didn't know what the fuck you were talking about. Because it couldn't be more clear that the HACK FRAUD MORON who wrote this stupid comic clearly didn't have anything to do with the creative decisions that went into this video game literally whatsoever at all.

anyway....

"Huh, well, she hasn't tried to stab me yet, so I guess this isn't some kind of Sonic Omens boss fight hallucination..."

You can see Shadow starting to accept that this is really happening at the very least, although his emotions are clearly still very mixed up about it.

Once again, absolutely perfect reaction. The way his pupils fucking dilate at the sight of Gerald. And again he steps back. His feelings are probably very similar to how he reacted upon seeing Maria, but probably some extra emotional conflict thrown in because of the whole "Gerald brainwashed me and tried to turn me into an instrument of revenge to destroy the world" as well. Imagine the last thing your father ever did was try to stab you to death with a knife, and then all of a sudden you were thrown back in time to the first time he ever changed your diapers. It'd probably give you some fucked up internal emotional conflict.

Let's focus on the look on Shadow's face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This threw him for a loop for sure, he doesn't know how to feel. He's disoriented. But then

he locks in.

Shadow ain't no dummy. He's been paying attention to all the levels up until this point. Hell he just ran into Black Doom earlier. Obviously this is some time travel shenanigans. What's great about this is that it's all internalized, this is just his inner monologue. It provides insight into what his thought process is at every other time too. We so rarely are given telepathic insight into the characters internal thoughts like this. Shadow is having this kind of inner problem recognition to problem solving analysis all the time, we just aren't usually privy to it.

He goes from looking at Biblically Accurate Black Doom in the sky, to glancing towards Maria when she starts talking to him, then glancing away from her as he tries to think about how he should respond. He doesn't want to tell the truth just yet. He doesn't want to let on about how he's really feeling. Perhaps he's trying to think back about what he was like back when living on the ARK, and get back into that kind of personality? Or perhaps he doesn't particularly care, and has just shifted into Mission Mode moreso than anything else.

Hehe, I love his little gestures. "I'm fine. *waves his hands around like a power ranger* we'll ALL be FINE!" He's so animated. You can really tell how much he's off his game because of this encounter. I'm inclined to think he's trying too hard and laying it on too thick because he's putting on a bit of a performance right here for Maria's sake. Which is why Gerald is able to get a hunch that maybe this isn't HIS Shadow after all.

Best cutscene in the game, I fucking love it.

[itsshawtyfellas]

Hear me out: squid game edition

I've seen on tik tok and pinterest a lot of people saying 'hear me out' on the finest man of the entire south Korea which makes me believe this 'hear me out' has lost its meaning, so I'm gonna do a list full of my favorite underrated characters of squid game that no one talks about enough.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

N°6: That one math teacher from s1.

This man absolutely slayed his minutes of screen time and we have to admit he was smart as hell but unfortunately he was gone too soon (if he looked at me like that he would die looking a slurped caprisun)

N°5: The square masked officer

He was given 2 minutes of screen time and he served and ate. I don't know if this if just me but I hope he makes a bigger appearance in the third season because I feel like he has some potential (help me lord he's fine as hell)

N°4: Park Gyeong-Seok

Let's be real here, he did soooo good on episode 7, he literally went off and acted like he was in call of duty or something. He's honestly a great character and I got so sad they killed him because I want him to go back to his daughter (MY SHAYLA) but I also have a theory that N°11 (No-eul) was the one who went to shoot him but didn't actually kill him, this since we didn't see him die (he's so pookie I want him in my bed)

N°3: Choi Woo-Seok

My baby did nothing but serve face for the entirety of s2 (LMAO) but I honestly love him so much, he's such a cool and funny character, although i found slightly annoying how much trust he put onto captain Park but i can't blame him since Jun-ho also believes him but I hope they get to find that island in s3. (That fuckass chain of his makes him finer oof)

N°2: Deok-Su

BEFORE YOU COME AT ME LISTENNNN, OKAY? We can't lie and say he was the worst character because he WASN'T. Was he fucked in the head? Yes. Would he slay if he was alive during s2? Absolutely. This mf went INSANE during the bathroom fight and during lights out and although he wasn't the best with the brains, he definitely was one hell of a fighter. I don't think anyone in s2 would stand a chance if he was still alive (he's pretty fucking hot too I'd honestly let him destroy my insides)

N°1: Seong Gi-Hun

How tf is he the MAIN CHARACTER but also underrated??? He's quite literally one of the best characters in the entire show but I'm so disappointed at how much trust he puts on people (frontman) but that only shows how much kindness he has in heart, I mean, after watching over 600 people die, losing both his best friends (RIP MY SHAYLAS) and also losing contact with his daughter??? This man deserves the best therapist in the world. I also will NEVER forgive Netflix for cutting off his fluffy hair and for taking away his smile. (He's so pookie and this pic is making me feral I want him to look at me like that when he sees me laying naked on the table as he waits for dinner)

Anyway, this was a brief opinion on these characters and I know there's so much more I could say but I feel lazy and I can't remember half of the events of s1 but feel free to share your thoughts!! Like, repost and comment if you can I love you babes🫶🏽

[casedeviant]

“ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓. ” ﹙ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐒. & 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ﹚ ⫘⫘⫘⫘ 私は主人をとても愛しています 2.7k wc

˖ ࣪ ִ𖤐 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 ⌖ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𓋰 ╭ 18+ ╮ dom top male reader & sub bottom cloud strife. dark content; noncon to dubcon, forced penetration, impact play, sexual harassment, angry sex, yandere themes. explicit sexual content; pervert! cloud, anal sex, dry humping, caught masturbating, voyeurism, scent kink, master & slave - set non-specific time period, squirting.

cloud strife was the type pervert you wouldn’t even think about comparing debonair wealth to. he was more filthy; more obscene than any sleazy little thing you had encountered. he was furtive, but not deliberate. he was artless, but not reliable. and most importantly, he definitely was not as innocent as he made himself out to be.

although, the act of perceiving oneself as such did have you play right into his trap on occasion - that still never compelled you to lay a finger on the boy, though. it was for his own good and your responsibility as his master.

yes, cloud knew what he was doing to you - for attention, like the little tart he was. he has a soft spot for you! the only master he has ever had that treated him well like a decent human being, over how slaves are expected to act. 

but he wasn’t special. he was a slave. slaves will always be denied such privileges. so, why did you grant him such leniency over the other ones?

it’s hard to tell when the only thing mediating the two of you was status. soiling a slave would mean ruining your own reputation in society. you’d be seen as the same, or worse, than what cloud merely believes is human nature.

when you grant someone such comfort, they take it for granted.

but every single time you catch him sullying your belongings - in the chamber when he is told to change your bedding, on the balcony where your smoking piston lay bare with lingering evidence of your hairs wrapped around the railing - the shockproof glass atwixt it all, cracks every single time you’re not supposed to catch him.

the smell of opium alone gets him riled up; you had to find another slave to replace his spot because he got a boner just from replacing the old poppy in your smoke with new poppy. it was an irritating experience, nonetheless, but you reassured him that feeling such a way in the presence of potent drugs was normal human reaction.

but was it really? if other people around you had to contain it, why couldn’t he? his intolerance to such things has nothing to do with you.

so, let’s recall perception number one: he was furtive, but not deliberate.

cloud was good at hiding his behaviour from the other servants of the household. he never let anything get noticed if it meant it could get him severely reprimanded, or worse, sold off. but he purposely let whorey, trollopy actions slip whenever he noticed you paid heed; you didn’t even need to look at what he was doing for him to know that you knew.

perception number two: he was artless, but not reliable.

profusely apologising for his actions were practically part of his every conversation with you. a minor slipup that didn’t even involve anything scandalous of such, let his tongue roll into his cheek and tears brim on his waterline. but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it again. he always did something new and undiscoverable that tested forbearance. but every single time he did justify his actions, you knew he meant it.

final, concluding perception number three: he wasn’t innocent. he never was. your desire for him was just as unmatched as it was for the burning lust he had for you. but you learnt from the books, that rationality was something slaves were never properly educated on. they only learnt through repeated abuse by those who took care of them. your abuse, on the other hand, was more absent than cause. everyone loved you because of this, not just slaves.

you settled upon a rather rash decision after thinking about that boy too much and his moronically petite expression he’d make whenever you did raise your voice at him. well, that’s how cloud would see it anyways - you never really did yell at him. it was more just…educating him on his wrongdoings, whether that ended up with you dragging him out of where he caused trouble, by the golden strands of his head.

that was beside the point.

so why is it, that in this very moment, when you catch cloud in your personal chambers, sprawled out on your silken bed, ass airborne, back impossibly arched, fingers wrapped around the head of his cock, and the scent lingering on your pillow where his face is mushed into, that all you can do is feel esurient?

you should be angry, furious, even, catching a slave doing something so disgraceful? that deserves a whipping.

but your patience chattered, and you shamelessly felt yourself finally wanting to do so many perverted things to him; it was out of anger that you felt this way about him, not because he was sullying your belongings, but because he finally won.

you wanted to violate his body with your cock in ways he had never even imagined before. you wanted to take him raw, without any form of preparation, his come and blood from the insertion of your dick, as a form of lube. you figured he’d be the type to enjoy a little pain, because in the end, that always turned into pleasure for him.

masochistic bastard.

all that hatred went straight to your cock, and you found yourself staring at his ministrations until he came all over the sheets. the pathetic little whimpers that dodged his lips with ease, were more tolerable than hearing him cry out your name; little pleas’ of “m-master, oh master [name]- it f-feels so good!” and sudden peaks of realisation that he needed more than just his fingers rimming the tight muscle of his asshole.

this was the first time you had watched him through to the end; all those other times you tried to spare your sanity. but this time, it was nowhere to be seen

“i came so much… i better clean this up before the master retires tonight.”

and when cloud spins around, as happy as glee, his expression, as well as his heart, sinks to his feet. the sheets he had stripped from your bed, fall to the ground, as well as his knees, already preparing some coherent apology in his head that only forces his lips to open in a babble.

standing at the now open entrance of your chambers, your hardened penis protrudes against the material of your night gown - as clear as the moonlit sky. there was no point trying to hide what he had caused; the difference wasn’t confidence, but a lack of care in the moment right now. you were going to make sure that cloud knew how heavy your balls were and that they needed to be taken care of of a release.

“m-master… w-wha- what are you doing back so early?”

like a deer caught in car headlights.

“hmm… well, you know…” the hum swirls around in your chest as you cross your arms over yourself, leaning casually against the curtains that hung against the rich mahogany of your chambers.

“i was just wondering what all that noise was, and here i found a little puppy pleasuring himself right in front of his masters eyes so barefacedly.”

cloud was flummoxed, those consuetudinal tears already drooling like a wet piece of paper, down his rosy cheeks. he was already a frightened mess, more so than usual, given your own heightened state. he was terrified.

the boy held his tongue as you sauntered over to him, the starkness of your thighs peeking through the slit of where your gown was tied together around your waist. he had never seen masters thick, well-defined legs before… and as expected, it made his own cock jump in newfound excitement.

you lean over, and thats when cloud frontlessly looks down your gown at where it slipped off your shoulder as you ripped the sheets from his grasp. the brief glimpse of your virile chest sends his mind into a complete and utter frenzy.

“cloud, tell me. what is this?”

he was lost in thought, and the sound of your textured voice shakes him back to reality. you stare at him with your mouth frowning, eyes filled with an unfamiliar craze that practically killed him. his pupils dilate, and he gasps, crying and moving to cling himself against your leg.

m-masters legs… are so soft. is what he can only think about at this moment. you and your fucking legs. not that he masturbated to the scent of you, of course. because apparently that didn’t matter to him.

you let out a spent sigh, head dropping backward as you breathe in the air above you. cloud continues rubbing his cheek against your calf, running his fingers a little too high up your thighs, and grinding his erection against your feet.

and in that moment, you realised no one was responsible for what was about to happen to this poor boy.

when you look down at him, smiling, and running your fingers through his hair, that expression is quickly replaced with a composed one when you tightly grip his roots. he writhes and kicks and screams and begs for you to let go of him, but he quickly finds himself thrown onto the same bed he was just soiling before.

you tear some of the sheets in half, wrapping a ribbon around his arms which were stationed behind his back. the part where he specifically dirtied, you made sure to stuff his head and nose into it completely, onto the mattress below.

asphyxiated by the damp material, cloud’s struggling gets weaker as you hold him there, his whines muffled. you proceed to pull down his pants, bare bottom on display for you as you bend his back further with your spare hand, pressing down on his shoulder blades. his legs wiggle and you make sure to sit on them before lifting him up by the thighs with both hands now, inspecting his hole.

cloud gasps, his eyes growing red and face saturating in purple hues from the previous lack of oxygen. all he can do is take deep breaths before screaming.

“M-MASTER!!”

his ugly cries, how amusing. you chuckle.

with his hole mere inches from your face, your long nails glide lightly around the tight ring of muscle, watching it shrink and relax with each teasing touch. you do this a few times to try and part it, feeling defeat when it caves back in on itself.

feeling for his dick, your hand instantly is smeared with his pre as you pop the flat of your thumb over his urethra hole.

it finally sinks in to cloud that your assaults are firm and intentional when you throw him back down to the bed in his previous position, face pressed into the dirtied silk. you hold him firm as you partly shrug off your robe, leaving it to hang just barely over your chest and one part of your collarbone. you push the long and untidy strands of your hair over your forehead in a maniacal laugh, now realising what sort of position you were in with him.

“fucking hell.” you mutter, jaw taut and eyes dangerously wild.

you then proceed to place one foot just below and to the side of his head, as your knee comes down beside one of his thighs. your hand is still holding his head firmly into the cushioning material below, and your other one gives a few pumps of your cock before rubbing it between his ass.

when you do this, cloud shivers, and you can physically see his hole wiggle in excitement from it. the warmth your shaft provided for just a brief moment, made him push back against you despite oxygen leaving his stupid head.

and without waiting, you lined your cock up with his hole, pushing in.

“ugh- shit… why are you so tight?” as if you didn’t know the reason for that, but if he acted like a slut around you, what stopped him from acting like one around his previous masters?

that thought alone, made you even angrier.

as you push more of yourself into him, spots of blood begin to surface, leaving a circle around your shaft to connect the two of you.

cloud’s toes curl and he heaves out grotesque grunts below. now realising you had held him down too long, you drag his head up by the hair as his back flushes against you, sheathing all of your meat inside of him.

his facial expression looks like he’s on the verge of passing out, no doubt. without any type of preparation and jumping straight into the punishment, cloud feels sick for how good it burns.

his insides cauterise with your cock, leaving a bump just below his navel. when he tries to look down to his leaking cock, you squeeze him by the cheeks, bringing his face back up to eye level, facing a mirror the blonde forgot was there half an hour ago.

he could see your glare shadowing behind him and your nose inhaling the sweat of his neck. the darkness of the room didn’t help how he felt either, and intensified that even more.

“don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted, cloud. you won against your master; a fair match indeed. so now, i shall give you your reward that you have craved for.” you hush to him in a condescending tone before moving your hips back, and slamming forward into him.

cloud’s unable to speak from this motion, his mouth lolling open which invites you to stick your fingers inside his mouth. drool instantly soaks your fingers as you place his tongue between the sides of your index and middle finger, his eyes rolling back into his head as you set a rough pace on his ass.

with every push and pull of your hips, you could feel his insides hold onto you for dear life, begging not to be tattered and mangled. yet, the sensation has you completely lost as you tear his ass open with your cock.

it’s messy, it’s bloody, it doesn’t look nice, but cloud’s leaking cock may say otherwise.

when you angle your hips up into him, his legs shake and he squirts strings of hot come into the air. it sprays all over the mirror in front of the two of you, and cloud collapses against your chest.

“after all that, you came so quickly.” disappointment lingered in your tone and cloud looked up at you, half of his face buried into the sheets. his hands were still tied behind his back, so he couldn’t do much but take whatever you gave him.

and then something unexpected happened.

for a moment, cloud swears dreaming when you place a soft kiss against his temple, looking down at him thoughtfully with your cock on tall, proud, and on standby.

tears of joy fill his eyes and he grins, giggling hysterically. you grimace when he does this, the snot and drool covering his face serving as a tool of unattractiveness. but he doesn’t care, he did finally get what he wanted.

“t-thank you- master. heh, thank you so much! hehe…hehehe. thank you for being so kind to me. i-i love you so much, master!”

your mouth then frowns and your eyebrows raise for a moment when you watch him thank you with full admiration in his eyes.

fucking disgusting.

all you can do after that is roll your eyes, remembering how this thing started in the first place.

you bring a hand down to his cheek, smacking the scorching skin roughly and turning him over onto his back. cloud invitingly opens his legs for you, his cock hard again and his hole ready for more action despite a stinging sensation still coming from that area.

“p-please… fill me up, master… i need your cock.”

he motions himself back and forth that catches your tip against his abused hole. and when you allow him to slither his ass over your tip, you just sit there on your heels, watching in raw amusement.

“you’re a strange little creature, aren’t you?”

now discarding all of your gown, leaving you completely naked, cloud can’t help but stare.

“enjoying the view?”

cloud whines, and you swear his invisible tail wags below him. you then let out a sigh, calmer than how you felt at the beginning of this mess.

it was going to be a very, very long night.

[alwaysless]

Fellow William analyst, greetings! I hope you are well, I hope you don't mind a question/ask.

I am curious about your thoughts on the lack of reaction we see of Will at the "one life" reveal at the dinner scene, if you haven't already shared your thoughts before! We know Annabel wasn't shocked, but what about Will?

It took me longer to answer than I thought, sorry

I'm not sure I can say anything new, but yes, it's pretty damn suspicious. The composition of the frame stylized as broken glass, makes it easy to draw Will with everyone, and a frame later we see him with other panicking students, so RnF didn't show his reaction quite intentionally.

But I also want to talk about his behavior further. In the next episode, Will doesn't behave the way you expect him to. Given his weak-willed personality, it seems like he should be scared and overwhelmed by the prospect of a survival game (like Morella for example) but he's confused at best, and moreover, confused by everyone else's reactions. He even tries to justify the deans, basically gaslighting the rest of the students.

Will is not afraid, but he does not understand why others are. I have only two possible explanations: either he knew, or he just doesn't care, just like Annabel. Or maybe both.

Maybe he has played these games before. Maybe he doesn't plan to fight for a second life (at least not in Nevermore, again just like Annabel). Maybe because he is somehow connected with the academic staff with all his doll aesthetic, there is no second life for him in general, he just works there. There are many options, but here I would prefer to focus on his parallels with Annabel - two characters whose reactions we don't see in this frame.

This is actually not the only scene where they are absent, contrary to common sense. In episode 6 we see the merit board for the first time. Most of the names on it are blurred, but some can be distinguished. Among them are Lenore, Annabel, Duke, Morella, Ada, Prospero and Will. All of them, except Annabel and Will, are present in the room at this moment.

I wouldn't have paid much attention to this scene if it weren't for Prospero. Why is he there? He doesn't speak a single line, and we haven't been introduced to him as a character yet. His presence here is useless. So maybe the idea really was for all the characters whose names were visible on the board to be in the scene(or at least have already been introduced, like Annabel).

So what about Will? My main problem with shapeshifter characters is that they can be anyone, anywhere, at any point in the story. Especially if they can also create their own copies. He could have already been introduced and we just didn't notice.

Now let's talk about the games these kids love to play so much. We know that Annabel is a talented chess player, and Montresor constantly uses card game slang. But did you know that it was William Wilson from Poe's original story who was a cardsharper? I just think it's such an interesting detail. Nevermore`s Will has never been seen like this, but considering how much of a board game aesthetic this webtoon has, I think it's important to note this.

And finally, there is a similarity that also makes them very different: both Annabel and Will have ribbons as an essential symbol, but it has a completely opposite meaning for each of them. For Annabel, the ribbons are a symbol of madness, fear, and perhaps her golden cage. It appears in her hallucinations after Lenore's fake death, as well as when Ada shows her her main fear.

Will, on the other hand? The ribbons are his weapon. He uses them to tangle other people. Curious, although his spectre is obviously a marionette, he doesn't have a control bar for strings, he controls the strings himself (not always successful but still).

No matter how weak-willed Will is, he's the only one in Annabel's group who isn't influenced by her. She blackmails Montresor, Prospero respects her as a leader and friend, Ada admires and envies her. But she doesn't have anything on Will. In the chess allegory, he will obviously be a pawn (and I`ll write a whole post about it, I swear), but not Annabel's pawn. I have an idea that sooner or later, Montresor will think of using Will to find dirt on Annabel in revenge. After all, given their spectre abilities, it's easier for them to find out lenabel's secret.

So, let's summarize what we found. Absolutely nothing. This post turned out to be longer than I had planned, because I was a little carried away, but I hope you found something interesting for yourself in this stream of thoughts.

Here, take funny little Will everyone. He deserves to be noticed.

[devoursjohnlock]

Thanks for the tag, @belladonnaxy (and question @themysterioushelen!). To my mind, the best metas on the "funny gravestones" are those that focus on deciphering the riddle associated with Eurus's song. I think the first of these was this one by writemeastoryofsolitude, who sketches out Sherlock's solution to the riddle and, importantly, notes that Sherlock adds new words to reach that solution.

The jist is this: Sherlock lists all the numbers on the gravestones, which include birth dates, death dates, and ages. In some cases, he breaks the numbers down into smaller ones, like turning "1818" to 1, 8, and 18.

The song consists of four verses of 32 words each. Sherlock numbers the words in each verse from 1 to 32, and matches his list of gravestone numbers to words from the entire song. Any given number may have come from any one of the four verses, so there are four possible word choices for each number.

There are already problems with his method at this point, because the numbers on the gravestones are only partially visible, *and* Sherlock may have broken the larger numbers down incorrectly, *and* he may have chosen the wrong word among the four possibilities for each number. Regardless: he next rearranges the words pulled from the song to match the order of the gravestones, although again... it's unclear that he should know what the proper order is. He seems to have read them randomly to begin with.

Now, about the extra words: Sherlock's method provides the following words to work with, based on four gravestones:

I am lost help me brother Save my life Before my doom I am My soul seek my room

However, Sherlock's actual solution is:

I am lost. Help me, brother Save my life before my doom I am lost without your love Save my soul. Seek my room

To arrive at the solution, he has added: lost without your love save, which are actually pretty prominent in the visualization:

But it took a few months before impossibleleaf pointed out here that the addition of new words suggests that there was a fifth gravestone, with the numbers 1, 2, 3, 8, and 28 in some combination. As a possible solution, impossibleleaf suggested that the gravestone date might be 2/8/12, age 38 – Sherlock's own "funny" gravestone. This is a compelling theory, but according to Arwel's TRF gravestone (see the very bottom of the image below), Sherlock's birth date is January 6, 1977, making him 35 at the time of his death. Still, it's correct that Sherlock needed 1, 2, 3, 8, and 28 to complete the puzzle. Perhaps someone can come up with another plausible gravestone for them.

In summary... this is a terrible way to create a cipher and the solution is highly implausible, but that's not the point. Functionally, it does what it's supposed to — gets a note to Sherlock saying "I am lost without your love," "Save my soul," and "Seek my room". It does this while being TFP-level melodramatic and fake. It may also present a puzzle: examine Sherlock's own method closely and find the missing gravestone, by extrapolating from four knowns to a fifth unknown. If nothing else, that is tantalizing.

In terms of canonical/Doylean connections, because that's how the game is played, there are quite a few reference points, some of which have been discussed elsewhere. Here are the main ones:

First, in Shoscombe Old Place, Holmes and Watson spend a dark night searching with a lantern among headstones "ranging from a very ancient one, which appeared to be Saxon, in the centre, through a long line of Norman Hugos and Odos, until we reached the Sir William and Sir Denis Falder of the eighteenth century." Naturally, they're looking for a fresh body, rather than an old one. This is the closest physical match for the "funny gravestones" scene in TFP.

Second, the code itself works on the same principle as the book code used by Porlock in The Valley of Fear; we've seen this before in Sherlock, in the A to Z code used in TBB.

Third, "funny dates" are a recurring problem that Sherlockians grapple with all the time; the Sherlock Holmes stories are generally back-dated by at least a few years, and sometimes cannot be reconciled at all. Wisteria Lodge is perhaps the best example, as it was written to have taken place while Sherlock Holmes was dead. But a relevant problem for TFP is that The Final Problem (story, published 1893) begins with Watson never having heard of Moriarty and ending with Moriarty dead and not famous, while The Valley of Fear (published 1914) features a living Moriarty and a Watson who describes him as famous. Presumably, this is why Moriarty appears in TFP, via questionably dated flashbacks/videos. The line "Be not afraid to walk in the shade" in Eurus's song is likely also a reference to The Valley of Fear, whose title is borrowed from a line in Psalm 23: "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for thou art with me."

Fourth, phrases in Eurus's song recall The Musgrave Ritual, ("sixteen by six," "my steps, five by seven," "nine by nineteen," "under we go"), which is unsurprising given that the scene takes place at the nonsensical "Musgrave Hall," but they (intentionally) recall the actual ritual very poorly. In the original, the "steps" were always square ("North by ten and by ten, east by five and by five, south by two and by two, west by one and by one, and so under"), though they do, of course, lead to a sort of grave. The offset numbers given in the song actually reminded me a bit of the signs/countersigns used in A Study in Scarlet ("nine to seven"/"seven to five"). Because I enjoy pain, I tried applying Sherlock's method to the numbers given in the song itself, and ended up with "Oh who will save me? Nobody." So that's fun. (This is unlikely to be intentional; you can also solve it for "Steps walk back over the hill," for example.)

Fifth, the appearance of a "beech tree" in the song seems to be a nod to The Copper Beeches. I wrote about possible connections between TFP and that story (with Granada as an intermediary) here.

Sixth, the third verse of the song ends with the phrase "inside, brother mine, let Death make a room," which recalls Culverton Smith's "favourite room"—the morgue—and I think is also a nod to Doyle's poem The Inner Room, in which he describes his own personal hall of mirrors.

I'll stop there, before this gets completely out of hand, lol. Thanks for tagging me on this; I've missed it. ;)

Musgrave, huh? The funny graves… what are you doing there Arwel?!?

[umbrellajam]

Robin: Need a hand? Batman: Somehow, I don't recall ever listing punning as part of the job description. Robin: Stay or go? Corrosive Man: What'll it be, Bat? Wanna play rock, paper, acid? Batman: Please. Base beats acid every time. Nightwing: Did you hear that? Robin: Yeah… Next he'll be dueling stand-up with the Joker. Nightwing: That's not funny. Give him a break, already. He's been through a lot. Robin: We've all been through a lot, big brother. - Gotham Knights #33

the Bane siblings arc is so funny even before Bane turns up. Bruce is so relatively light, punning back at his Robin and generally riding the high of re-embracing his family and allies after the Murderer/Fugitive arc.

meanwhile Tim still has some reservations about just letting the whole thing go after everything Bruce pulled. very fun and satisfying to see a little lingering back and forth between Dick and Tim here, a bit of a coda to their argument in GK 26 (my beloved),

but not a serious one, as we've seen that they, at least, have clearly made up. "big brother" aaaaahhhh, help 🥰 we so rarely get Tim actually labeling his relationships with the Bats as familial - even with Dick, though that one is the strongest and most clear-cut.

I find it so interesting that Dick is the one who uses the brother label with Tim more often - although of course it's still not very often, and frequently couched in "like a brother" or "closest thing I have to a brother" terms, Bat emotional constipation etc. etc. - but it's still more often than Tim uses it toward Dick, I'm pretty sure?

so you have Dick, who lost his last "closest thing I have to a brother" in Jason, though they never knew each other well enough or got close enough to actually use those terms. so you'd think he might be reluctant to use that label - but nope, he started talking about Tim as family as early as Prodigal.

meanwhile Tim has parasocially hero-worshipped both Dick Grayson and Robin since he was a very small child, even before he knew they were the same person. even after becoming Robin, jumping at every chance to work together, getting to know Dick as a person, going through Prodigal, Contagion, Legacy, Cataclysm, NML, Joker's Last Laugh, M/F, spending holidays together, becoming so close....how could Tim just casually refer to Dick as his brother? it had to have taken so much build up for Tim to feel like he even remotely had the right - and yet, barely a year of real time after this in Robin #120, Tim is still certain that if he ever quit Robin, Dick (and Bruce) wouldn't be in his life at all, even out of costume. just. aaaaahhhh

definitely related to that last reblog, but these moments of emotionally reserved characters acknowledging a relationship out loud are so much more satisfying for how rare they are, how hard-earned, and how much is going on under the surface.

[acidiccherry]

What I want to know is whether everyone at the company now knows that Helena slept with Mark S, or if only Milchick does.

It's very unlike Helena to let herself be filmed in such a compromising situation, and with an innie, of all things (whom she sees as subhuman). But also, why wouldn’t she know they’re being monitored the entire time...

And if she told Milchick about it, why? Sure, they seemed friendly the few times they met before and after her severance, but they weren’t THAT close.

As of now, I think that only Milchick (among higher-ups) knows. Kier knows how he got the information, but he got it.

What I find strange is that Milchick should know that the elevator hall cameras pick up sound very well, as we've seen while Helena was reviewing the footage (while drooling over Mark) (ok not really drooling but you get the point).

I mean, for sure he caught Mark in the elevator to intimidate him, he invaded his personal space with nowhere to go and kept his voice low for that reason, but maybe he did that so no one else could hear him also? Is he 100% sure that they can not be heard? 'Cause that shit's recording right now.

From the meeting of Helena, Natalie and Drummond I've gathered that not only Jame but them also don't know about the sex.

So that leaves us with this number of people knowing about that: Helena, Mark, Dylan, Irving (bless his soul, I couldn't not include him in this list) and Milchick. That's all. And we can cross out Mark and Irving for obvious reasons. And again, I don't think it's Dylan 'cause that would be totally not-Dylan'y of him.

And oh yeah, Helena and Milkshake are definitely not in such terms to chitchat about their love interests, laying in bed with a pink blanket swinging their legs in the air and giggling while writing things down in their diaries (although THAT would be one hell of a scene). I see no reason for Helena to confess to anyone at all, let alone Milchick.

So to conclude I think that she never shared that information with anyone and kept it to herself.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I saw your one post about Yuu getting super powers. I don't think it's very likely as well. I think it's largely thanks to western storytelling expectations and tropes for the western audience.

In a lot of western YA or Middle Grade books, the protagonist in a fantasy series will start off as ordinary, standing out and never fitting in. It turns out that they are indeed special and powerful in their own right. Think Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Clary Fray, and the list goes on and on.

There are also times when the protagonist is forced to change forms literally to become more powerful. For example, Feyre from ACOTAR starts out as a simple human. But then, she is killed off, and then is brought back to life as a High Fae. Same goes for Bella from Twilight where she dies during childbirth to a demon spawn, and then she is transformed into a vampire.

Western audiences are expecting something similar to happen. But, it's not very likely due to "main character" and individualism not being as much of a thing in East Asia. I've never seen as many stories like that from Japan as I have from the west out of all of my years of being a manga/anime fan.

Although, having said that, Yuu is still something to be desired writing wise. I still wish that Yuu had more of an impact on the plot and had more personality than a tuna can. I don't expect them to be a fully fledged character on par with the rest of the cast. Even other otome and JRPG self inserts like Persona 5 I feel are better written than them, because they matter more and the dialogue choices impact the game more. They are the main character. Act like it!

[Referencing this post!]

There's certain genres of animanga that have those power fantasy/wish fulfillment tropes that we see in western media. A big one that comes to mind are fantasy isekais where the main character tends to be a weirdo or a loner that's actually super powerful/smart and quickly amasses a group of doting anime girls to fawn over him (although now isekai is much more diversified as a genre). It's definitely not just something exclusive to western media, although I will say maybe it's more prevalent in the west (again, due to differences in cultural values).

I feel like we need to remember that Twst is ultimately Japanese media, so it will most likely default to Japanese storytelling conventions and trends, not western ones. While it's fine to wish for a different version of events or to dislike the current version, we should be careful to not let personal frustrations turn into demands to cater to those wishes.

I will say that I've noticed the localization attempts to give Yuu more... character? Many of Yuu's dialogue options are written to be more sarcastic than they originally were. The JP dialogue options are much more neutral. Here are some examples from book 1 alone:

After fighting some mob students in the cafeteria, Yuu has "Even though we were just told to not get into fights" and "I thought we were done for..." as options. In EN, Yuu's options are, "What happened to 'no more incidents'?" and "I guess this is my life now. *Sigh*". You can see how Yuu reads as sassier or more fed up in the latter, even if the same overall message is conveyed.

When seeing Jack for the first time, Yuu's Japanese options are "He has dog ears!?" and "A muscular guy with dog ears is a new sight". In EN, the top option is basically the same, but the second option becomes "Muscly dog man, sure why not."

Other dialogue options change entirely. For example, when Leona threatens to claim a tooth as retribution for Yuu stepping on his tail, our options are, "EEEEEH!!" and "H-He's going to hit us!" EN's options become much more humorous, with Yuu either claiming "Please! I don't have dental insurance!" or "I can't afford to pay anything!"

These are just a few examples, and not even all of the dialogue options in book 1 that exemplify what I’m talking about. I hope that this helps illustrate what I mean!

I think it can be argued that Yuu does have an impact on the plot, but the way the story is written doesn’t grant them much agency. There are points where Yuu makes decisions of their own volition but then the story never commits to letting them be entirely independent. For example, a lot of players like book 3 because they feel it is when Yuu is the most involved in the story. They make the decision to make a deal with Azul, and then they contribute to figuring out a way to outwit him—but then in later books, Yuu basically stands there doing nothing (lookin’ at you specifically, book 5). Yuu also doesn’t get to spend a lot of alone time with the characters to actually… I don’t know, influence their change and growth? Their activity and involvement is just wildly inconsistent. I have my own gripes with how Yuu is written and proposed my own ideas for how I would change them. If you’re interested in reading that, the post is here.

It might not be the best to compare Yuu to otome and JRPG self inserts 💦 In otomes (or general dating sims; I’d like to be inclusive of my non-women audience), romance is the primary objective. Of course the self-insert player character will be the center of the story and the one that the other characters will revolve around. JRPGs are typically console games; they have more bandwidth to go bigger and be more ambitious with their stories + gameplay than your average visual novel style mobile gacha game. (I specify “average” because I know there are now open world and 3D style gacha games.) The story of every game is also different and might call for different kinds of main characters to most effectively tell us its tale. Having an active main character isn’t needed for every story, and nor does having an active character automatically make a story better.

I’ve noticed that we commonly conflate the terms “main character” and “protagonist”, especially when it comes to Yuu. To clarify, the “main character” is the one whose perspective the story is primarily told (ie our POV character). A “protagonist” is who the story is actually about, the person who drives the story forward. “Protagonists” are the ones facing challenges and undergoing significant change in the story. A “main character” and a “protagonist” may be the same person, but they could also be separate people.

Yuu may be the “main character” in the sense that we see the story mainly through them (as someone who is brand new to Twisted Wonderland, much like the player is). This makes Yuu an excellent sponge and prompter for lore and explanations to be dropped on us. However, I don’t think that Yuu is also a “protagonist” for most of the game. I would say that the protagonists are the main cast of NRC students, especially the OB boys. These are the characters the story truly centers on, and this is reflected across events and vignettes as well. Yuu appears in very few vignettes and is often a footnote conveniently dragged along on events. So much of Twst’s content revolves around the boys, their relationships to one another, and how they develop and better themselves. Does Yuu play a part in that, no matter how minor? Yes. Does Yuu also form friendships with these boys? Also yes. But this is not the bulk of game content, nor what most of the conflicts or solutions focus on. So 💦 Yuu definitely “acts like a main character” (ie being the lens we view the story through), but doesn’t “act like a protagonist” (ie is active in the story and pushes it forward, is the one that significantly changes, etc).