#and i love them both. but joining up those backstories now

[notasapleasure]

Sjdjdjff wow, so many details about Cassian that had already supposedly been established (his birth-father's death on Carida etc) that I'd forgotten about, and I'm looking at his Wookiepedia page for details Andor supposedly gives about him and imagining the editors having to be like

I'm. Really going to have to come down on the side of the folks who are like 'wow cool two guys called Cassian Andor who look like That existed simultaneously in the SW universe at the same time with totally different personalities and backstories!'

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Rain Confessions

Summary: A dance in the rain at Jackson's last day of the summer celebration leads to you and Joel finding out something surprising about the both of you after you sneaked off to have some alone time.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Rating: E

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: falling in love, a whole lot of backstory nobody asked for, implied past SA, age gap (around 15-20 years), fluff, baby fever, smut (semi public sex, unprotected sex) accidental breeding kink (?), pregnancy surprise at the end

A/N: This is my entry for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! I had so many ideas for this challenge, but this is it (for now lol)

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If you had learned anything about the community of Jackson since arriving here almost two years ago, it was that the people would always find a reason to have a town celebration. 

It was foreign to you at first, celebrating the first summer harvest a week after you arrived. Seeing everyone in the middle of town, celebrating while music was played by some towns people on their instruments. Children playing with wide smiles, safe from all the horrors that laid behind the walls of this tiny town. So much food everyone wouldn’t have to cook for days. 

Dancing. 

Happy people. 

You had a full blown panic attack the first time you had attended a town celebration, overwhelmed from how… normal everything seemed now. Almost like it had been before the outbreak happened. 

You only had little memory of how it was before. You had just turned 20, moved to another state, far away from all of your family for a job you were excited for, but would never get to work in. 

You had been shot on outbreak day, waking up almost a month later in a make shift hospital in what would later become the Dallas QZ. You remembered being told how lucky you were that an officer had brought you in in all that chaos. There would be many times after you had healed and been released, that you asked yourself if you really had been that lucky. The question about why you survived, being a constant thought inside your head. 

Whatever had happened to you had fucked with your memory, leaving you with big gaps about your life before you woke up in the hospital. 

You had stayed in Dallas until the QZ fell, leaving with a group of what you thought back then were friends. You had worked with those people, those men, for many years at the QZ. They had never given any indication about not being decent people. You trusted them.

Trust that you clearly had misplaced. 

You would learn in the following years that they had only taken you with them so they had something to offer to whomever could help them survive. 

It would take years for you to finally escape from them, kill all of them, leaving you with nothing but the clothes on your body stumbling through the deserted lands of what you would learn was Wyoming until a group of people found you. 

You had asked them to kill you, tired of life. 

But they had taken you in. Maria saw something in you that day. 

You became a part of Jackson. Working in the greenhouse every day because as it turned out, you had a green thump.

Yet you were still keeping to yourself. 

The years of abuse you had endured, did not make it easy to trust new people. You only had little friends. Lauren, who worked with you at the greenhouse, and Tommy who made it close to impossible not to be friends with. Maria who became like a big sister to you. 

You weren’t looking to meet more people, let alone find something more than just friendship until Joel Miller stepped into your life. 

You had been pared with him on your monthly patrol, something every citizen of Jackson had been tasked at least once per month, not even knowing he had joined the community, or knowing that he was Tommy’s brother.

He was quiet, reserved, cold, but only to the people who were to scared to look past the facade he put on. 

It was like you could see right through him, the way he was masking the pain he carried with him all day. Maybe because you had been doing the same thing. 

The first patrol you went on together left you drenched to your bones, surprised by rainfall, making you sick for a whole week after with Joel being the only one who would check on you. 

Something you didn’t understand at that time, because you did not know the man. 

You still weren’t sure who made the first move of spending some more time together. It seemed to just… happen. Eating together at the Tipsy Bison after he came back from his job at Patrol. Him visiting you in the greenhouse when he found himself lonely, telling you about his complicated relationship with Ellie at the moment. 

You spending time at his place to teach Ellie how to bake, because she had been nagging you for weeks to do so. 

He never pushed, always listened to whatever you had to say, both of you opening up to each other about what you had went through before getting to Jackson. 

He had held you after you talked about the years you had been in captivity, vowing to never let anyone ever lay a hand on you. 

It was after the first baking lesson, Ellie long gone to bed, that you found yourself in Joel’s arms for the first time, his body on top of yours, his cock filling you slowly, while he whispered words of praise against your ear. 

Yet it would take another couple of months for the two of you to admit that you had feelings for one another, oblivious to what everyone around you saw with their eyes closed. 

There hadn’t been some grand gesture like in the movies. 

It had been a normal night where you felt a little restless and decided to walk towards the stables to wait for Joel to come back from patrol. The way his face lit up when he saw you as he rode through the gates, taking you by surprise even though your face was a mirror image of his. He had wrapped his arms around you and whispered how much he missed you before he kissed you softly, the world around you disappearing when he admitted to you that he’s been in love with you for a while now. 

You had moved into his house the week after.

And now you were in your shared bedroom, getting into clean clothes while Joel sat on the bed, looking at you with warm eyes. 

„We could just stay in? Have some time for ourselves while everyone is busy celebrating the last day of summer?“ He asked and you smiled softly, putting your pants on, while his eyes continued to undress you. 

„And do what?“ You asked. 

„I can think of a thing or two. I’d start with getting you out of this jeans again,“ he winked and you smiled shyly at the way he looked at you. 

You hope he would forever look at you like that. 

„You know your brother would come looking for us. We promised we would be there. And Ellie asked you to come too,“ you reminded him and he sighed. 

Things between him and Ellie were still hard, but she was slowly coming around. There would be a small art installation from the school at the town square and Ellie had drawn a couple of paintings she was excited to show off. 

Joel got up from the bed and walked over to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

„You gonna let me dance with you?“ He asked and you sighed, pulling your arms up and crossing your hands behind his neck, looking up at him. He was smiling softly at you and you were pretty sure you would never be able to love another person like you loved Joel Miller.

„Always,“ you smiled before you got on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. 

You were watching Joel and Ellie from afar, both of them standing in front of a painting she did from a landscape across town square that was currently filled with people. Ellie had told you that it was the mountain view she had woken up to for an entire week while she was sick on the road, Joel taking care of her until she felt better to continue their travels on their way to find Tommy here in Jackson. 

Joel was visibly struggling to keep the tears at bay as you saw Ellie explain it to him before they hesitantly hugged each other. 

You were sitting under one of the tents that had been put up earlier today, the sky not looking like it would be dry outside much longer. Yet it was warm enough to only wear a T-shirt.

„You think they gonna be okay?“ Tommy asked, sitting down next to you, little Elijah in his arms. Maria had given birth not too long ago to a mini version of Tommy much to her delight. She waved at you from next to the grill, and you waved back before you reached your hand out to Elijah who took your finger with a squeal. 

„I think so. She’s beginning to understand why he did what he did. And he’s understanding why she’s so upset. They miss each other,“ you said and Tommy nodded. 

„I would have done the same if it was my kid,“ Tommy said and you nodded. 

„Yeah. Me too,“ you smiled at Elijah who now was trying to suck on your finger, making you chuckle. 

„Are your parents not feeding you enough, little man?“ You said with a grin. 

Without answering he proceeded to pull your finger in his mouth, making you giggle. 

„Maria just fed him twenty minutes ago. He’s just ravenous,“ Tommy rolled his eyes.

He turned his head when he heard Maria call for him. 

„Can you take him for a moment? My wife calls,“ he asked. With a smile you nodded, opening your arms for the little boy to be placed against your chest, kissing his forehead while he still sucked on your finger. 

„Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?“ You hummed with a small smile as he snuggled against you. When you looked up you found Joel’s eyes locked on you from across the little square and you felt your cheeks warming at the look he was giving you. 

In the past couple of weeks you had the recurring dream about having a baby on your own, a mini version of Joel. You dreamed of watching him with a tiny baby on his chest. You dreamed of your own little family. 

Elijah used this moment to nibble on your knuckles, making your eyes widen before you looked down at the little guy again. 

„You really are hungry huh?“ You laughed.

„He’s teething,“ Maria said, smiling down at you with a plate of food in her hands, Tommy following behind her.

„You gonna eat some spare rips next summer, huh?“ You teased, tickling the babies side, making him giggle. 

„He sure will be,“ Tommy said proudly, before he took Elijah back. 

Music started to play from the band that had formed earlier this year from the town and you could see Tommy smirk. 

„I think you had an admirer,“ he winked before you turned around and found Joel walking towards you. When he was close he held one hand out which you took. 

„You promised me a dance,“ he said and you couldn’t help but smile. 

„I did, didn’t I?“ You said before you let him guide you towards the middle of the square were people had already gathered to dance. 

The band was playing a song you did not recognise. It was a slow song for a change, Joel and you having danced to two songs before laughing loudly at the way you just could not manage to not stumble over your own feet. 

But now you were in his arms, your cheek against his chest as he slowly swayed you to the beat, his lips against the top of your head while he murmured the words to the song. 

You took a deep breath of his familiar earthy scent that always felt like coming home. 

It was then that you felt the first drops of rain. Feeling his arms tighten around you he cursed quietly as it began to rain, the sky opening up, drenching you within seconds, your clothes clinging to your body. 

The normal reaction would be to seek shelter from the rain, just like the people around you who quickly ran towards the tents that had been put up. 

But you looked up at Joel who was already looking at you, his hair clinging to his face, drops of water falling from his nose down on you.

The band was still playing, the song changing to a distinct version of Purple Rain, making the people who were now in the tents laugh, but you just smiled, letting Joel twirl you on the improvised dance floor before you came to rest against his chest again, both of you laughing. 

You danced for a couple more minutes, before he kissed you deeply, holding you close against him.

„Get a room!“ You heard Tommy yell and you smiled against Joel’s lips, before you took his hand and led him away from the town square.

He had you crowded against the wall outside of the greenhouse as soon as you rounded the building, his lips on yours, his hands rounding your face. 

The greenhouse was closer, your house being on the other side of town. 

It was still raining, the both of you under the small and apparently leaking roof that was above the outside work station, just out of view from the building. You could still hear the people down the street celebrating when he picked you up to sit you down on the work table, your legs parting so he could step between them. 

„We should get out of these clothes,“ you mumbled against his lips, your fingers working on opening his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He sucked your bottom lip between his. 

„We should,“ he agreed, before he pulled your shirt over your head, growling softly before his head lowered between your tits, pushing your bra down, sucking your nipple into his mouth. 

„Shit….“ You moaned, your hands pushing into his hair, your eyes dropping close. 

There was a tiny part of you, that knew it would be a better idea to get back home and out of these clothes, but you wanted Joel so badly, right now. 

„Love these perfect tits,“ he hummed, playfully biting into the soft skin above your left breast. 

„Joel please… Just….“ You pulled his head up so he was looking at you, your eyes wide and needy. 

„You want me to fuck you? Right here? Again?“ He asked and you nodded, memories of all the times he had you right here while the people were working inside, filling your mind, a shudder running down your spine. 

„Sure is gonna be fun to get you out of these drenched jeans,“ he joked and you chuckled before you jumped from the table.

It was a little struggle, the wet denim clinging to your legs like a second skin, but after a little bit of Joel’s help, you had them down to your ankles and Joel kissed you softly. 

„Turn around,“ he hummed and you did, your hands on the edge of the table while you heard Joel’s belt unbuckle, followed from an annoyed huff that let you turn your head over your shoulder to find him too struggling to get his jeans off, making you smile to yourself until you saw him free his cock, his pants just so pushed down to get it out. 

He looked at you with a bashful smile, before he took a step closer, his big hands moving over your ass. 

„Gotta make this quick so I can get you home and out of those clothes,“ he said, before he wrapped one hand around his cock and lined himself up. 

„This okay?“ He asked. He always did, every single time, needing to hear you consent after you told him about how you had been treated in the past. 

„Yes,“ you nodded and he winked at you before slowly sinking into you, inch after inch of his cock filling you, stretching you, until he was nestled deep inside of you, his hips flush against your ass. 

You turned your head back forward, letting it fall down, your eyes closing. 

„Baby…“ he sighed, letting his head fall against your back. He kissed your spine before he began to move, finding a slow rhythm that had you positively losing your mind. 

The rain was still falling hard, dripping down Joel’s back as he fucked into you.

„Need it harder,“ you whined, finding your back pushed against his chest the next moment, one of his hands across your chest, holding one of your tits as his thrusts got deeper. Faster. Harder. 

You brought your hands up, both holding Joel’s arm that was across your chest as he fucked into you. 

His lips found your neck, licking up the rain that was still dripping down your body and you whimpered. 

He took a couple of steps back, pulling you with him until you were back outside in the rain, the warm drops hitting your flushed skin. You leaned your head back against Joel’s shoulder, your eyes opening to find the sun coming out just when Joel’s other hand slipped down between your legs, his hands covering your pussy, his fingers parted to feel how his cock entered you before he moved it in slow circles, stimulating your clit. 

It was too much. 

The rain, his cock fucking you, his hands all over you, his mouth sucking softly at your neck, in the middle of the garden you were working in every single day. 

You came with a soft cry of his name, clenching around his cock, struggling to keep yourself on your feet as he continued to fuck into you. 

„Good girl,“ he hummed against your ear, his hand on your breast tightening, groping, and you gasped. 

„Wish you could cum inside me,“ you hummed and he cursed. 

„Wish I could….“ You stopped yourself, not wanting him to know your deepest secret. Not before you had an actual talk about it. 

„Wish you could what?“ He asked, his thrusts getting slower. He turned your head so you were looking at him and you were sucking your bottom lip in. 

„Wish I could have your baby,“ you whispered, whimpering when you felt him twitch inside of you immediately, his eyes darkening. 

„You want that?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„Fuck,“ he groaned, beginning to fuck you again, somehow ever harder than before, both of his hands now on your tits as he pumped into you. 

„You wanna have my baby?“ He asked. 

„Want me to fuck you so full of me, until it takes?“ He grunted and you moaned. 

„God yes. Yes please Joel. Fuck a baby into me,“ you whimpered and he groaned, his thrusts getting sloppier and you could feel him pulse inside of you before he pulled out, coming against your thigh, his head falling against your shoulder. 

You were both panting, trying to fill your lungs with air while the rain around you seemed to finally slow down. 

Suddenly nervous about what you said you were trying to form an excuse about it, when Joel spoke up. 

„You really meant that?“ He asked, his voice soft. 

Gulping you turned around in his arms, avoiding his eyes until he tilted your head up to him, so you had to look at him. 

„I don’t… I guess I do? I… At first I thought it was just the fantasy about it, but the longer I thought about it….“ You mumbled. 

„How long have you been thinking about it, sweetheart?“ He asked softly. 

„Since I moved in?“ You said and he huffed before he shook his head with a soft smile on his lips. 

„How about we get home and out of these wet clothes and talk about it?“ He asked.

Slowly you nodded and he kissed you, before he helped you get dressed, which was almost more complicated than getting out of the wet clothes before. 

The rain had almost completely stopped as you made your way towards your shared house, Joel holding your hand, stealing glances at you as you looked towards the ground. 

He would be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking about it. 

And yeah, maybe it was reckless, he wasn’t the youngest anymore. This world was not the best place to bring new life into. 

And maybe it wouldn’t even work, having a baby.

But as he looked at you, with your shy smile on your lips, he knew he would give you everything you wanted to make you happy. 

Both of you not knowing that that one time almost two months ago when you were out for patrol together and he had fucked you against a tree, the second he had pulled out to late was enough to already have you pregnant. 

But you would found that out a month later. 

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Only for you

Emo!Wanda Maximoff x FemReader

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: Just the above, but I also added some reader backstory

Warning: Reader backstory including: physical pain, arguing, bullying, mental instability, manipulation, R being held against her will Present time storyline: mutual pining, Unestablished lesbian relationship, slight teasing by the team, jealousy, posessiveness, love confessions, fluff, Happy!Ending <3

Joining the Avengers was a challenge. It wasn’t the constant work outs and strict diet to keep you healthy and strong, it wasn’t even the danger or the threats to your life, even the annoying attempts of the media to follow you and snap pictures of you didn’t bother you that much. They all got buried by the government before they saw the light of day anyway. It was the people. Not that you weren’t grateful to them. They had saved your life after all. Gave you a purpose in life. But… The Avengers were a tough group to get to know and even tougher to live with sometimes. Of course, some preferred having their own homes, like Clint and his family, or the notorious Captain Marvel, that didn’t even live on Earth, and just as expected, those that did live in the tower had their own floors, rooms, offices, so you didn’t even meet them that much, but that just made it even harder to really connect. That’s why Steve insisted on team building activities, training together, even attending Tony’s stupid parties, all in the name of bonding. The man meant well and he really had a big heart, but he just couldn’t see that some of the Avengers had very little in common.

The thing is… You were born a witch. Not from a powerful clan, or with deeply rooted ancestry, and you probably would have stayed that way, had you not made a terrible mistake. Truly, you were just angry at the time. Barely a teenager, who thought she had all the answers. You were arguing with your mother about something, not that you could even remember what for. It was probably so stupid. But you both lost your temper, screaming at each other, until she had sent you to your room. She thought she was de-escalating the situation, giving you both time to calm down. What she didn’t know is that you had been through her collection of spell books and brought them all to your room. So when you slammed the door behind you, stupidly, unthinkingly, you grabbed the books. You weren’t sure what kind of spell you were hoping to find. Just something to make all the emotions inside you stop raging. But you found an absorption spell instead. In your head, you thought that if you just learned this spell and then performed it, you’ll search through the books much faster and then you’d able to do… What? God, you had no idea. Thinking back now, that was such a ridiculous thing to do. But you learned the spell, grabbed the candles you had in your drawer, surrounded yourself with all the books you had taken and just started the chant, hands touching the pages of the books and starting to feel their content seeping into your skin. It stung! That’s what you remember most. The feeling of that black ink seeping into your skin, as if splitting it open to make its way inside, clawing its way in your veins. It hurt so bad, but it wouldn’t stop. You had said the words, and now the spell was doing its work, emptying the pages of the books around you. You tried to pull your hands away, struggled to get it to stop, but it wouldn’t. Every painful second felt like hours. The panic inside you was rising, watching the inky blotches making their way up your arms, crawling like black maggots under your skin, up your shoulders and neck… You were so scared, heart pumping wildly in your chest as you watched it happen, begging for it to finally stop.

But with the end of the spell, you found yourself facing a greater torment. You had taken too much, too fast for your brain to fully comprehend. All the words swirled in your head like a hurricane, making it impossible to distinguish your own thoughts. You tried to calm down, tried to put those racing thoughts in order, trying to meditate, just like your mother had thought you, but it was useless. It wouldn’t stop. In the end, it was your screams that attracted your mother to your room, panicked and scared, just as you were, trying to get you to tell her what you had done, but you couldn’t even put a sentence in order. Your brain was so scrambled, growing more incoherent by the second. Maybe that’s when you passed out? You couldn’t tell. You had very little recollections from that time. The next days were a blur. You don’t remember much. Just your room. Your mother told you that you were consumed by madness. Spewing lines from spells, incoherent and jumbled together. But sometimes you would get one right. She’d had to confine you to your room and bind you with runes, so you wouldn’t start casting without even knowing it. She told you it took you two weeks, before you started to come back to yourself. It was a miracle you even managed it. Some witches never recovered from such a thing. By the time you came back to your school, there were so many rumours about you, people whispering behind your back. You were changed. Thinner, more withdrawn, trying to keep to yourself. But kids were cruel and curious. They teased you, tried to get you to admit why you were missing from school all this time, attacking you, when you tried to ignore them. You should have known it was inevitable that you snapped and did something you’d regret.

It was just before summer break, you thought you had gotten through the worst of it, that you had your emotions under control, practicing every day, just so you could keep all the magic from spilling out. Many people didn’t know, but grimoires weren’t just books full of spells. Each spell, written within the pages was also a tiny bit of magic, leaving its imprint and taking root. You hadn’t just absorbed the knowledge, but the magic too. It was more than you’d ever felt, more than you knew how to control, so you practiced relentlessly. But when pushed, it bubbled to the surface. Fucking Madeleine Dupont, daughter of the Patric Dupont – owner of the biggest, most profitable manufacturing business in town, was obnoxious, spoiled, annoying and with a mean streak wider than her daddy’s newly acquired 23 acres of land for their grand mansion. The girl loved to pick on everyone, but recently, she had set her sights on you and in that fateful day, she and her friends cornered you into an empty classroom, taking drugs out of their pockets and trying to get you to take them. When “gentle” persuasion failed, one of them grabbed you, holding you by the hair and trying to force your face onto a desk, where they had spilled some powder. You didn’t even know what it is. But they started to overpower you, and the tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to tell them that you didn’t want this, that you needed them to stop, only added to their exhilaration.

They eventually pinned you down, laughing menacingly as they tried to get you to breathe it in and you lost control, pushing them back with your magic, a wave of energy blasting through the whole room, making desks and chairs fly to the ground, just like the girls had done. You tried to reign yourself in, to stop the emotions from taking over, but you were mumbling spells already. You remember just a blast. You remember waking up in a cell, body strapped to a small hospital bed, being pumped full of something. And the woman. She was your “handler” and on most days, the only person you saw or spoke with. She told you what happened. You’d killed those girls. Part of the building collapsed because of what you had done and the rubble crushed them. You must have protected yourself on instinct. Survived it somehow. They were giving you medication, making sure you heal properly. And then your training could begin. They were HYDRA. And they had a special interest in people like you. They made it clear that they weren’t just your supposed saviours, but also your captors. They weren’t going to just let you leave their facility. Instead, they aimed to train you. You were one of the lucky ones. You learned that after you were rescued from that HYDRA base. They never tortured you physically. Instead, they decided that they could break your mind, already weakened by what you’d done to yourself. They aimed to convert you. Half your training was spells and magic, endurance, strength… The other part… That was indoctrination. And they used everything they knew about you just to do it. When you refused to say the right things, they withheld food, when you refused to train, they withheld water… When that didn’t work, they would use threats. Your mother. They weren’t above hurting her to make you behave. They weren’t above killing her, if you didn’t do what you’re told.

You often held out hope that she was looking for you. That she’d find you and save you. But she didn’t have half as much power as you did. And you couldn’t escape them. What luck would she have? Eventually, your only hope of escape was to save yourself and after a few failed attempts, you formed a plan. You did as you were told, said what they needed to hear and you trained. You trained every waking moment, making sure your body and mind would be strong enough to take on all the magic you invited into yourself. That absorption spell? You used it more often, although, you limited the amount of information this time. It always hurt, the headaches after each use were monstrous. But it was all worth it. You were going to get yourself out of there one day. Even if you had to take down the whole base to do it. But it was the Avengers who took it down and helped you out of there. They reunited you with your mother, your family, and after some time, they also offered you a job. A calling. To help people. Those who weren’t as fortunate as you. Those in need. And you said yes. That’s how you ended up in the Avengers tower. Despite the people, it was a lonely place. Few understood what you had been though, fewer still cared for what it had done to you. But you couldn’t blame them. They all had their own lives, their own problems to deal with, their own personal pain to wallow in. Natasha understood. She knew what being a prisoner was like, what it felt like to be forced to do things just to survive. Steve empathised. His big heart and his puppy dog eyes were unbelievably charming and he won you over easily. Clint brought normalcy to everyone’s lives. But most of the others were hard to relate to. Tony meant well, but he had a big mouth and he loved putting his foot in it. Bruce was always in his lab. Vision was kind, but he was also marked by the characteristics of his origin and hard to make a connection with. Thor… Where do you even start with Thor? But there was also Wanda.

She had joined before you, her story similar to yours, yet so different, marked by loss and heartache. She was a kindred spirit and easily a friend. She was a little older than you, her eyeliner thick, her black nail polish often chipped, her hair in a tight ponytail as she walked around the compound and she always smiled when she saw you. As the months passed, the two of you were inseparable, spending every waking moment together. You were one of the two people who wasn’t scared that she’d read your mind, who trusted her good intentions and good heart completely. The other was Vision. They had a bond, an understanding that you didn’t know how to share in. But you were happy that she had him in her corner, because the other Avengers always looked at her suspiciously, or avoided her and you never knew why. Wanda was a sweetheart. Her favorite way to watch sitcoms was with her cuddled up into your side, your fingers playing with her silky hair, that she always let down, when it was just the two of you in the room. And sure, she was a little emo, but you found that adorable. Her smile would only widen, when you’d use one of your many pet names for her and she would blush, when you complimented her cooking. And you used those all the time, because, the thing is, you were in love with her. You were desperately in love with Wanda Maximoff and you were ready to do just about anything to have her smile at you or shower you with her affection. Something she did practically all the time anyway. If the woman wasn’t also fiercely protective and an extremely powerful witch, you’d say she’s a puppy. But none of the others ever agreed, when you said so. They would cower, when she stepped into the room, avoid her eyes, when they needed to speak to her, they would step out of training rooms, when she walked in. You found it baffling. And somehow the treatment extended to you as well. The closer you got to her, the more they kept their distance.

Gone were the days when they would tease you playfully, when they would give you pointers on your techniques, when they would approach you for small gatherings that didn’t involve the whole team and you never knew why. Until today. You walked in the common room, only to find most of the team already there and you greeted them, before you made your way to the adjacent kitchen, listening to their banter as you made breakfast for yourself and Wanda. It was the dynamic you were used to and you were ready to join them, holding the bowls of food in your hands, when you noticed that the noise suddenly died down, replaced by tense silence. “Wanda.” Natasha greeted with a nod. “Natasha.” The younger woman acknowledged, stepping further into the room and scanning it for something. Not that she ever told them what she needs. She looked pissed. Her aura was dark and almost menacing, her shoulders squared, like she was ready for a fight, making everyone on edge and you couldn’t figure out why. “Hi, sweetheart!” You decide to finally greet her, showing yourself from behind the wall you had been standing, while you observed all this. “Sweetheart?” Tony lifted an eyebrow, an amused smile creeping up his lips. Wanda only threw him a glare, but she accepted your hug happily, taking you into her arms and when you pulled away, she only let you turn into her hold, facing the group, while her hands stayed firmly around you. “Let’s go have breakfast in my room.” She suggested in your ear, ready to practically drag you out of there. “Why not join all of us for breakfast?” Steve raised his voice, gesturing to the big table he was already sitting at. “That’d be nice.” You nodded, before Wanda had any chance to refuse. “Come on, Wands, I already fixed you a bowl.” You told her. “Yes, Wands, we haven’t seen you in ages.” Tony agrees, emphasising the nickname you had used.

Feeling like she didn’t have much of a choice, Wanda agreed, sitting next to you and pulling your chair practically into her side, so she’d have you as close to her as she could, while she ate quietly. But the team felt like they had stumbled onto something. They had felt the shift in mood within her, as soon as she saw you and they weren’t going to let it go so easily. At first they tried their playful banter on her, asking her about her day, about her interests, about her training, just anything to see a reaction, but none actually came. It was only when you spoke that she would light up. She would smile, when she listened to you, when she forgot that it wasn’t just the two of you in the room. But it was the little blush that showed on her cheeks, when you called her “darling” that first sparked an idea within them. “Hey, Y/N, I hear you tried your hand against Cap here.” Bucky stared off, attracting your attention. “Tried being the key word. Hand to hand I don’t stand a chance, but with a little magic…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Who knows…” “Yeah?” His smile widens. “Well, if you’re looking for a challenge, join me for a spar this afternoon.” He invited. “She’s training with me this afternoon.” Wanda practically growled, looking up from her bowl for just a second, to stare down Bucky. Her glare was murderous. “That’s too bad, I was hoping for a little magic.” The man said, obviously bating Wanda. “Then perhaps you should train with me. I have magic.” Wanda snarled, summoning a ball of energy between her fingers for a moment, just to get her point across and luckily, the man was smart enough to back off. “Well, if you’re busy training, perhaps I can finally take dear Y/N to get a proper costume. The two of you can’t keep borrowing my leather jackets and pretend that it’s a real suit.” Natasha interjected. “What do you say dear?” She asked, her voice dropping an octave. “I already have some ideas in mind. You can try them on for me.” She suggested, noting the way Wanda’s knuckles turned white around her spoon. “And I’m sure Tony can make some improvements.” “Oh yeah.” The man chimed in, happy to take his own turn teasing Wanda. “I’ll have to get your measurements of course. To make sure it fits perfectly.” He says casually, but the idea of it makes Wanda’s blood boil. “She’s busy today.” Wanda retorts, before you even get a chance to open your mouth and you find yourself surprised to see her so tense. “Tomorrow perhaps.” Tony shrugs, taking on Wanda’s glare. “I’ll make time for her.” He adds. “She’s mine.” Wanda snaps, raising from her seat and balling her fists. “What was that?” Tony pretends not to hear her, smirking at the pissed off witch. “I said, she’s mine.” Wanda grits out, turning to you, ready to drag you out of the room.

It’s then that she realizes what she had said. That you were right there next to her, looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and hopefulness. The thing is, Wanda was desperately in love with you too. She was also, as the team quickly started to realize, extremely possessive, and she wasn’t going to watch every man and woman in the room flirt with you. The only problem was that she hadn’t told you all that. Scared to ruin your friendship and loose you for good, she opted for hiding her feelings, which only intensified her jealousy. She hadn’t staked her claim on you and it made her scared that someone else might. So every time you weren’t with her, she’d be on edge, lurking in corners, sending people glares whenever they spoke to you, hoping to keep them away until she could finally tell you how she felt. Such behaviour had earned her a reputation in the Tower as grumpy, and since everyone knew how dangerous she could be, they tried to stay away. Now, however, cornered and taken by surprise, she had let it slip. And you were right next to her, so it was impossible that you didn’t hear her earlier words. “Y/N…” She stutters, taken aback. “I didn’t mean… I…” She stumbled over her words. And the audience didn’t help in the slightest. She felt crowded. Tony’s smug smirk seemed to taunt her, Bucky and Steave sharing a knowing giggle between them, Natasha, who somehow looked unphased and simply amused at the whole scene, it was all overwhelming. And then, there was you. Shocked at what you’d heard and looking at her in disbelief. God, she needed to get out of there… Before she had a chance to say much else, before she could think it all through, she stormed out. She didn’t even know how she ended up in the hallway, her legs carrying her on their own, when she heard your voice. “Wanda!” You were calling out her name, jogging slightly to catch up to her. “Wanda, please wait!” You called out again, seemingly not for the first time. “Please, we should talk about this.” You said, watching her stop, so she could wait for you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I had to get out of there.” She tried to say, her voice shaking a little with all the emotions that were raging inside her. “It’s ok. I understand.” You nodded, taking her hand, so you could help her feel more grounded.

The small touch between you, just the feeling of your hand in hers felt electrifying and she easily took the other one as well, pulling you close, until she could have you in her arms, securing you in a tight embrace and making you look up at her. “You don’t understand.” She said, hands shaking. “I’m so in love with you. I have been for months now. And I was so scared to tell you, so scared of loosing you, that I just…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “And the way they were talking to you, the way they all looked at you… I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you. I want you to be mine. I want you all to myself. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you in my arms, I want to spend every day showing you that I love you. I want… You!” She confessed, her arms tightening around you, as if you’d escape her grasp somehow. “Oh, Wanda…” You whispered, a gentle smile farming on your lips as you watched her eyes sparkle. “I’ve been in love with you too. And I didn’t know how to tell you…” You said, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The moment felt heavy, thick with emotions as you both stood frozen in time, eyes glued to the other, when suddenly a voice, startled you both. “Maximoff, kiss the girl already!” Tony said smugly, followed by cheers from the people around him. Were they watching you on the hallway cameras this whole time? Not that you had time to think about that, when Wanda was leaning closer, her eyes flashing red, before she shortened the distance between you both, until she was only a breath away. Her features were so different now, she was smiling as she held you, biting her lips, eyes full of adoration and longing.

When she finally placed her lips on yours, a gentle caress at first, it felt like you were in heaven. You had wished for this moment for so long, imagined it every night, before you fell asleep, dreamt of it and longed for it and it was finally happening and you just couldn’t get enough. When she felt your eager lips on hers, Wanda didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out, asking for permission to taste you further and mingling with yours, once you allowed her access. It was only when she pushed you against the nearest wall, trapping your body with hers, that you finally paused. “We’re giving everyone a show.” You reminded her, head pointing to the camera in the corner. “Never.” Wanda smirked, her magic flashing once more, to show you that she had disabled the feed, before you even kissed. “Only I’m allowed to see you like this. I would never share you with anyone else.” She said with a note of possessiveness that you were growing to love, the more you saw it. She kissed you again. And then again, greedy hands squeezing your hips. She could never get enough of you. She felt drunk on you and only reluctantly pulled away when you both needed to breathe. “We should get back.” You said reluctantly. “Let’s go to my room instead. We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to do anything. I just want you all to myself.” She suggested. “I don’t want to share you.” “Wait… Is that why everyone thinks you’re so grumpy?” You suddenly realized, remembering countless times, when Wanda has wanted your undivided attention, skipping events and avoiding people. She didn’t say anything, but at this point you didn’t need her to. “We should show them how wrong they are. You’re amazing and warm and loving and sweet and I want everyone to know that.” You told her honestly. “But we’ll go to my room after?” She held you firmly, refusing to let you go just yet. “Yes, we’ll go to your room after.” You nodded happily. “I’ll even let you pick what we’re watching.” You added teasingly. Wanda smiled, pulling away just enough to let you straighten yourself and she held your hand, letting you guide her back to the common room, watching your hips sway seductively. It was sweet, she thought, that you believed she’d be wasting her time with sitcoms, when she could finally have you the way she’s wanted you for so long… _______________________________________________________ Hi, dear anon. I hope that you are happy with the story you got for your request! <3

[meowmeowriley]

Unhinged and unnecessary HC to rationalize the punk Ghost skin incoming!

It's not Ghost. Ta da! Listen. Listen. I understand. Ghost, being someone devoted to the crown, wouldn't wear the anarchy symbol. And if given the comic backstory (as I always will) Ghost most likely would hate punk music because of his father.

So why punk Ghost? It's not Ghost. It's his son. His and Johnny's. Maybe he's blood, maybe not. Doesn't really matter. They raised the boy. He's theirs. And he resents the crown and the military for how it broke his fathers. Maybe he lost them both, either together or at different times. Maybe they died in the field, or in the hospital due to complications from an injury they got on the job. Maybe they didn't even die, they were injured and dismissed and tossed aside like trash. Whatever the reason, he's angry.

So he joins up with some men who stand for everything his fathers didn't. Fuck their militaristic peace bullshit. It starts small, protests and parties mostly. But then as he finds himself getting closer with the others, he's asked to take part in some extracurriculars. Raids on police and military caravans. Harmless, he tells himself. Good even, they're preventing those in power from enforcing their tyranny, he rationalizes. Things get more radical the longer he's in. Things escalate. He's in too deep. They're a resistance group. They fight back. He looks back on the combat training his fathers pushed on him at a young age more fondly now, as it served him and his purposes well.

He doesn't see how he's exactly like his fathers, won't let himself. But he is. Just a man who follows orders and fights tooth and nail. But he does love his fathers. He misses them. He takes up Simon's mask and Johnny's hairstyle, incorporates them into his look. Makes them his own. An attempt to honor them, despite their different stances on how to do good.

A mission, he's stopped hating when they're referred to as missions a while ago, has himself and his team breaking into a military research facility to investigate and destroy what they found. A new weapon to hurt innocent people, he was sure. Except it wasn't, exactly.

Teleportation? Couldn't be real. He read the files with an air of disbelief. He was distracted, rookie mistake, a scientist gave him a shove, he fell into the teleporter. The man shouted something about finally having a human test subject and slapped his hand down on a button. A flash of blinding light enveloped him, and suddenly he found himself in a hallway. Disoriented, he walked about, trying to figure out where he was.

A man in a bucket hat rounded the corner ahead of him and stopped, looking him up and down with an exasperated sigh. "Ghost what the fuck are you wearing this time?" Ghost. His dad's callsign. This man thought he was his dad. What would his dad do in this situation.

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. That should do it. Thankfully his sleeves were down covering his tattoos. They were different from Simon's and could've given him away.

"Whatever. Come on then." The man kept walking and he did his best to imitate Simon's walk. His mind raced, an obvious military man thought he was his own dad was worrisome, as the old man was gone, and he needed to get away without arousing suspicion. He'd have to play along then.

That plan went tits up the second he followed the bucket hat man into a room and found himself face to face with his fathers. His fathers who were able bodied and young, same age as himself.

The teleporter hadn't just sent him somewhere else, but had sent him back in time as well.

Johnny roughly ripped off his mask and slammed him against the wall. "Who the FUCK are you?!" Simon menacingly slid a knife out of his sleeve and deftly twirled it around his fingers. Right. They weren't his dads yet, just the crowns attack dogs.

[grahambaham]

Controversial opinion, especially for any Jason Todd fans out there (I'm one of them), but I completely understand why the fans in, the 80' I think, voted to kill him off. Hear me out, okay?

Jason was at first a literal Dick Grayson copy, was legit given his backstory and personality with the name being the only change. And for a while that was all they knew about and, rightfully so, hated about him. Now I'm not sure whether he was given the whole Alley kid who tried to steal Batman's tire story before or after his death but either way, in those fans' minds, Jason Todd was just a boring replica of Dick Grayson and no one liked him. If I was alive and a fan back then, I honestly would have done the same thing.

WHICH IS WHY I HAVE SUCH A HUGE PROBLEM WITH THE WRITERS DOING TO JASON THE EXACT SAME THING THAT GOT HIM KILLED OFF BEFORE!!!

Jason immediately after getting brought back to life was a villain. He wasn't misguided, he wasn't an antihero, my man was a Villain with a capital V. He didn't protect workings girls or children from any drugs or anything, he just made one off hand comment to a guy not to sell to kids and that's it. One of his only interactions with any prostitutes is to mock her for her past and decisions that led to her becoming one. Bruce did not abuse him or attack him unfairly. Jason had not only tried to kill Joker or other horrible villains, he killed anyone whether they were rapists, or robbers, or petty fucking thieves and he didn't do it for justice or whatever the fuck but because he was angry and taking it out on everyone he could get his hands on. He stopped Batman from going after Nightwing after Bludhaven blew up with him in it. He blew up a school. He beat up Tim in his little Robin panties and was a fucking villain.

I love Jason. But I love him as the messed up asshole he is. Not as some misguided wittle antihero. Which is why I despise the fact that the fandom latched onto the completely inaccurate version of him, because the writers of DC had started writing him the way the fandom wanted and he is now irreversibly ruined. Aside from the already mentioned stuff, they made him into a copy of Dick Grayson (for the second fucking time) and Helena Bertinelli.

Helena is the one protecting women and children, the antihero that often uses violent force. She's the one with the reluctant sibling relationship with Tim. Jason was not Tim's Robin by the way, Dick was. Tim does not like Jason one fucking bit and spends most of their forced interactions roasting him so bad he has to buy burn salves. Also her personality was taken and given to Jason in some ways too, like her manner of speech and stuff, but I'm willing to let that slide as accidental.

From Dick Grayson, they mostly took his relationships, romantic and platonic. Jason slept with Barbara and Kori both, which aside from just being dumb as hell is also weird and creepy because Jason is six years younger than them at least and they knew him as a fourteen year old when they were at least twenty, and they would never date someone so much younger than them, they aren't fucking creeps. Then they took Starfire and Arsenal and made them forget their own lives to join Jason's little antihero team (neither of them are antiheroes what the fuck) and act like the sun shines out of Jason's ass and he's their leader or some shit when they would never follow him before that, especially Roy who has led so many other teams and does not deserve that shit. Some fans also ship him and Jason, which is both creepy and character assassination for Roy's entire character more than him being friends with Jason and in the Outlaws already is.

Also, Pit Madness is not a thing you fucking brainless losers. Stop trying to justify and erase the flaws that make him an interesting character. His anger has always been due to the trauma of being tortured and dying and the misguided feeling of betrayal he felt for Bruce. He was unwell and taking his problems out on others. So, repeat after me: PIT MADNESS IS NOT A REAL THING!!!

Thank you for reading <3

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

What if reqder was also a monkey?

How would the first meeting go and would the warlords still be in love with reader at the end?

(And can i be 🎂 anon?)

Yes, you can be 🎂 Anon! I am so glad to have another anon!

As for if Reader was also a monkey. I'd say in this version that if Reader was a monkey, she'd originally be from the Jttw World. She'd be from the same village as Spirit.

Her mother was a monkey demon while her father... let's just say he's not. He's also not human, celestial or demon. I have a plan for him but I'll keep that for later in this version of my au. Should I call it Monkey AU? Hmm… maybe I’ll need another name for it.

Spirit and Reader would be good friends from the get-go and sworn sisters ever since they were young children. In this version Reader is actually more adventurous and reckless. Having grown up in this world she is used to demon attacks, deadly threats and so forth.

She's a fighter willing to protect her only friend even if it means the death of herself.

She would meet Sun and Mac when she reaches Flower Fruit Mountain. Her and Spirit would have gotten there faster because there are two of them fighting their opponents instead of one. Also because Reader is a monkey demon she is welcomed onto the island by the two warlords with open arms, both excited to meet new monkey demons.

(A little backstory/ lore - Marshals Ma and Liu and Generals Beng and Ba are the only monkey demons born to flower fruit mountain, other than Wukong of course. Wukong makes it his mission to invite as many monkey demons to fill the mountain with and most come with him excitedly as they aren’t seen kindly by the humans of the mainland. After Macaque joins Wukong they both make it their mission to make the humans who treated their kind pay dearly, even though not all humans were harsh to them)

Anyways Reader gets to see her sworn sister meet her father and her new family first hand. She is both happy for her sister and slightly disappointed knowing that she wasn’t the only one her friend had now. She liked the feeling of being needed, but doesn’t want to spoil Spirit’s fun. Because of that she goes off to explore the island so her sister can have time meeting her family.

Of course this catches the attention of Macaque. Wukong is the one who trusts most monkey demons almost blindly with little distrust. Macaque on the other hand? No, he has fought and killed others who have threatened his life weather they were of his kind or not.

He has no intention of harming those his mate has chosen to be apart of their kingdom and makes sure to have friendly relations with them. However that doesn’t mean he trusts blindly especially those who have just arrived and haven’t yet accepted Wukong as their king. So following the new troop mates around is something he has made a habit of, but this time Wukong realizes what he’s doing.

After a short talk (Mostly using Wukong’s curiosity against him) the two follow the monkey demoness around. She has no rhythm or reason to her walks and simply looks around curious about her surroundings. When she believes she’s alone she sings softly allowing her voice to float through the air. Both Wukong and Macaque like the private ‘show’ not that they say anything at first.

Then they see her interact with the cubs around the mountain. The cubs that are so cute and adorable as they climb up and down Reader, curious about the newest member of the troop. All the while Reader laughs as she makes sure they don’t fall and grabs fruit from the trees to pass around to the youngsters. She is absolutely loving towards them making sure they are safe and happy. That is when the first smallest spark hits their hearts. Though they easily play it off, after all it’ll disappear after a while… right?

Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks and before they know it, two months have passed. And the small spark has turned into a bright flame that doesn’t die and is hard to hide. No matter how much they try. They can’t help but pay attention to her, they can’t help but absolutely ADORE her.

Now these two are very loyal to each other, but when feelings begin to bloom for this new Monkie demon they end up trying to stay away, unfortunately for them she seems to be a magnet for them. They are drawn to her from her smile to her laugh. When Macaque finds his mate liking this new woman (even though he likes her too) he intends to put an end to it. But when he sees her smile at him he completely freezes and can’t go through with it.

Macaque realizes he loves Reader almost as much as he loves his own mate. Telling his mate however is harder than anything else because his mate, his oh so OBLIVIOUS mate doesn’t realize he LOVES the woman that he does! Macaque remembers what he had to do to get Wukong to believe that he loved him now how is he supposed to get him to realize he loves this woman too!

Fortunately for Macaque, Wukong knows what love feels like. After all he feels love for Macaque so when he feels the oh so familiar feeling for Reader, well he KNOWS. It does take the two quite a while to actually talk to each other about their feelings though. They don’t want the other to go into a jealous rage and kill their new darling after all.

They do eventually talk and when they do? Well Reader realizes they are giving her more attention but doesn’t really think much of it… until she decides it’s time to leave to travel. Reader doesn’t like to be cooped up for too long especially Monkey!Reader she likes to travel. Unfortunately for her, when she goes to tell the Monkey King and his mate goodbye, well… she doesn’t get the chance to leave the mountain.

Hehe! I loved this ask. Now mind you this is my first idea for monkey!Reader. I also have another version that I have deemed Stone Monkie! Reader, though maybe not the same ‘stone’ as you may think. She was NOT born from stone. There is a different reason she is called Stone Monkie!Reader.

Hearts, comments and asks are always appreciated. Sorry this took so long 🎂 Anon. But I do love this ask. This is basically a headcanon quick version of a small fic now that I look at it. Hope you’re okay with that!

Edit: Added Monkie!Reader Lmk Au/ Monkie!Reader Au tag

[fallstaticexit]

When your Gen X, boomer cusp boy mom mother can't read the room to save her life.

AN: If anyone is interested in some more Lyric lore, you can check out my TikTok for part one and part two of her backstory. Trigger Warnings: pregnancy loss, depression.

prev / next

Myrah: Oh, my sweet boys! I missed you so much!

Sonny: So you went and got married, huh? Didn’t think to tell us, mama?

Olive: [whispers] Girl, not your mom getting her groove back.

Lyric: [groans] See, this is what I’m talking about...

Nina: [whispers] This was not on my Myrah visit bingo card.

Ernest: We eloped. Nothing too fancy, since it’s both our second marriage. I can send some photos your way, just got to get them developed.

Mel: Developed?

Myrah: My Ernie is an old soul. Very old school.

Sonny: Uh-huh. How old exactly?

Lyric: Isn’t there a dinner we’re supposed to be eating or something?!

Myrah: Oh, that’s right! Everyone sit, I’ll bring out the food.

Sonny: Yeah, maybe get this man a shirt while you at it..

[awkward silence]

Sonny: How’d you meet my moms, man. What’s all this about?

Mel: This isn’t some life insurance scam, is it?

Myrah: Boys!

Ernest: We met at a Divorce Support Group.

Lyric: [sucks teeth] Why are you still going to those? You were divorced over 30 years ago...

Myrah: There’s no expiration date on support! I can still go. We take a trip to Cancun every year.

Ernest: She was telling her story about being a young mom in a loveless marriage, and I really felt that. I was a young father, too.

Sonny: [grumbles] Tuh. Ya don’t say?

Ernest: I asked her to join me for coffee one day, and well, the rest is history.

Myrah: Ernest completes me. We don’t let things like our age keep us from being happy. Ernest satisfies me in ways you can’t imagine-

[Everyone groans]

Ernest: Meeting your mom really changed my life, kids.

Olive: I get it. It happens to the best of us. I fell in love with a beautiful, elegant, rich older woman, and my life has never been the same. I’ll probably never fall in love again.

Sonny: ?????

Myrah: Thank you, Olivia. Kids, I just want you to be happy for me. Don’t I deserve that?

Lyric: This is weird! You get married without telling anyone, and it’s to some guy who’s like half your age. Why would you think we wouldn’t be upset about this?

Myrah: Well, honey, you’re not a little girl anymore. I can do as I please and not have to tiptoe around what my children think. I’m allowed to live my life however I want.

Ernest: Your mother’s right. And I think if you gave me a chance, I could show you how I can be a great father figure and role model to you and your brothers.

Lyric: Am I in the twilight zone?? What the hell is happening right now??

Ernest: Ah! Little man’s burgers! Must of slipped my mind. I guess age is catching up to me.

Sonny: Mhmmm, which is how old again?

Myrah: I’ll get it. Sit tight, baby.

Lyric: [sneers] You! Did you know about this?

Sonny: What! No!

Mel: I mean, you did say you talk to mom everyday. She never mentioned this?

Olive: Can we get these dishes passed around or...

Sonny: I mean, she mentioned having a friend name Ernest once but I’m thinkin’ he’s some old guy she met!

Ernest: [chuckles] Yeah, I get that alot. I normally go by EJ. Ernest Sr. is my father’s name.

Sonny: Uh-huh... and who yo daddy? Probably went to school with him...

Myrah: Alright, got one burger for my big strong, handsome grandson!

Myrah: What? What’s the matter?

Lyric: Mom, there’s cheese and stuff on it! He doesn’t like that! He’ll only have it plain!

Myrah: Ok! Ok! No problem! I’ll just pluck it off! I-I didn’t know-

Lyric: You would have known if you’d bothered to get to know him at all! You don’t know anything about any of your grandchildren, Mateo especially! All you care about is that he’s a boy.

Lyric: You don’t listen to me when I tell you about things that overwhelm him. You don’t listen to me at all! I’m not going to let you make him feel invisible like you did me.

Myrah: Lyric, wait! Please don’t leave like this! Talk to me, Sunshine!

Olive: Um. Thanks for the to-go plates, Mrs. M. I bet it would have been really good when it was fresh.

[tires screeching]

[thegnomelord]

I desperately need MORE background on how hound became the vicious beast (that I love just the way he is) and how Makarov tamed him!

Please

It's kinda hard to come up with background when I literally made hound on the fly lol, I didn't plan to give him any backstory and that blurb about being betrayed by price just came at the last moment.

But here's my current ideas:

CW:SFW ish HUGE SPOILERS for Hound's backstory (not cannon yet but the major themes), angst, discussion of torture, conditioning, SA, and Hound just having a very bad time.

Hound already had behavioural/aggression problems when he joined the military (the reasons for which are left open for the reader to imagine). Price pissed off some top brass officer and got Hound dumped on him as punishment and because no one else wanted Hound. But Price figured out that all Hound needed was a firm hand from someone he could respect, and with Hound, respect was a hard thing to earn. But Price earned it and in turn got himself the most loyal Sargent he'd ever seen.

Now for the angsty Makarov bit.

Hound was loyal as hell to Price when he thought he would be saved. It took Makarov like a solid year just to make small dents in Hound's will. Since Hound didn't know Russian, he'd get annoyed at the commands Makarov used, leading to more beatings. This was around the time Makarov started using shock collars and really leaned into turning Hound into his dog.

The whole conditioning thing was similar to how cult indoctrination works, Makarov made himself look like the only 'safe' source of comfort Hound had. He especially liked making Hound fight in a pit, be it putting him against actual dogs, people trying to join Konni, or other Konni members, with the prize being that whichever soldier won would get to use Hound however they wanted. And while Hound may be big (hc Hound around Konig's hight/whatever the max height for being in the army is), being regularly beaten, starved and sleep deprived meant he lost more fights against the soldiers than he won.

This made it easy for Makarov to effectively 'save' Hound, rough orders making his soldiers stop, giving Hound soft touches and a low soothing voice to listen to while he lay on the floor covered in blood, gore, cum, and god knows what else, just trying to recover. And Hound's brain hated it, was disgusted by the touch, but his body craved any form of comfort it could get regardless who it came from.

The real conditioning began when after a year in captivity the files for Hound's mission were released, and had been rewritten to make him K.I.A. and a traitor. And they were official documents too (Makarov had eyes and ears everywhere, including the C.I.A). Makarov had been putting the idea that Price had betrayed Hound for a while, so those docs just confirmed it.

Hound became a lot more anger prone and aggressive after the betrayal, going back to his old ways before Price became his CO, something Makarov played into.

Violence became both a coping mechanism and a way to survive; the more violently he fought and killed in the fighting ring, the better the rewards he would get (more food, more rest, more of Makarov's affection to distract him from what was happening), the stronger he would get and the more his body would recover, the more violently he could fight. Leading to a type of cycle where physically getting healthier turned him more violent.

Makarov was very keen on training Hound, taking away the small comforts as quickly as he gave them if Hound stepped one foot out of line, steadily conditioning him to be eager for his touch, his praise, his affection, to want to pleasure him and silence the parts of Hound's brain that begged him to stop.

In six months or so, Hound was already kneeling at Makarov's feet, head tilted back so Makarov could cut his initials into Hound's throat, desperate to have a collar wrapped around his neck, to belong to someone who wouldn't betray him like Price did.

And in another six, Hound was utterly devoted to Makarov, carrying out any orders given with extreme precision and violence all in the hopes of just getting a scrap of his attention.

Or something like that. The thing I like about reboot Makarov is how charismatic and tactical he is in comparison to the unhinged Makarov from the old series. This one gives me like cult leader vibes, which is why I think he would have been able to condition hound into being his. Makarov values loyalty and saw how loyal hound was to Price, so sought to have the same.

[kentosbabes]

More bf-gojo? I loved the perfect combination of fluff and smut bits. ★

your wish is my command!!! hope you enjoy :33

Bf-Gojo who loves when you surprise him at work bringing him some lunch and just keeping him company till the end of his shift. Sometimes if you had baked batches of cupcakes or cookies you would bring all of them sharing them with people all around his building, Gojo just admires how kind and considerate you are as you offer your freshly baked goods to his employees. He would sometimes leave things at home and calling you acting all stressed just so you come and join him helping to relive his stresses in more ways then one.

Bf-Gojo who now joins you when you have an 'everything day'. He's sitting on the counter as you carefully paint on the face mask onto him, your brows furrowing with concentration. It gives him another excuse to stare and admire you for longer. He is also surprisingly good at painting your nails so you let him paint yours as you gossip to him about the drama in your office and friend group and as much as he hates to admit he gets so involved and even begins to share his own gossip.

Bf-Gojo who enjoys exploring the city with you going in and out of art galleries and museums. His hand in yours as you talk him through the art on the walls explaining in detail the backstory behind each one. If it was anyone else he would simply tune them out but with you he listens intently taking in every detail. He adores how smart you are and praising you the whole time your in the gallery. 'Your such a good girl you know that right' he would whisper in your ear the grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly as you exit the building.

Bf-Gojo who gets more cocky knowing your the most perfect girl and knowing your all his just boosts his ego so much. 'Oh your so smart, the way you talked about those paintings got me so riled up' he'd say kissing down your neck as you bounce up and down on his dick, 'Your so perfect and you all mine. isnt that right darling?'. only able to whimper in response Gojo smirks at your fucked out state. His hand grabbing onto yours and placing it on your lower stomach so you can both feel how deep he is inside of you.

Bf-Gojo who babies you when your sick. He's pulling out all of the stops running you hot baths, cooking you soup and watching shit tv with you never leaving your side until you feel better. Gojo defiantly calls Nanami for help asking him for the best remedies and how to get you feeling better asap.

Bf-Gojo who secretly loves when you praise him, even just when you say how proud you are of him once he's completed an important presentation or saying how good he is when he helps out with making dinner. Your words going straight down to his dick till he cant take it anymore and having his way with you. 'f-fuck toru your s-so so good to me' your praises only making him harder and he knows its going to be a longg night.

Bf-Gojo who does anything and everything to make sure your okay. Your heels are hurting to much? he will carry you home so you dont have to walk any further. Your having a hard day at work? he will be there picking you up and helping you unwind in a steamy shower.

Bf-Gojo who cant wait to meet your parents, although he's nervous he knows how much they mean to you so being able to meet them only furthers his desire to wife you up a soon as he can.

Bf-Gojo who teases you about the way you like your coffee, 'I love you but thats coffee not tea doll why you adding so much sugar and cream' he would say as he sits sipping his black coffee. He laughs at how defensive you get calling him the weird one as your cheeks begin to redden at his teasing.

Bf-Gojo who wants to just spend everyday with you cuddled into him as he draws patterns up and down your back, and when you get up to grab a drink your ass pocks out from underneath his top and he can just sit against the headboard hands behind his head admiring his perfect girl.

part 1 here

masterlist

[milksnake-tea]

5 + 1

"The 5 times he thought he loved you, and the 1 time he knew."

rollo flame x gn!reader

contains: fluff, pining (a lot of it like oh my god), strangers to friends to lovers, rollo being emotionally constipated, lots of POV changes, slight spoilers for rollo's backstory

word count: 6.3k

note: i can't defend myself </3 my legacy is just rollo at this point and i can't stop it

tags: @crysangria

———

Rollo doesn’t fall in love.

He’s well aware of its existence; the City of Flowers is renowned for its rather romantic aspects. Since the beginning of time, newly budding couples somehow always managed to hide in every corner of the city - tucked away from the overall public, but obvious enough for any local. Anyone who’s lived in the city for longer than a month learns to avoid the bridges, the alleyways, and of course, any bench at night.

While he has never understood the reasonings behind lovers’ touches and dreamy stares, even Rollo is unable to deny that the affections they displayed didn’t sound so bad… If he didn’t spend his first year in the city running into couples making out at every corner.

Noble Bell was no different.

In his three years at the institution, Rollo had quickly become accustomed to scolding the couples he found in the closets, under the staircases, and in empty classrooms. He learned to tune out the swoonings and fawnings that even his fellow council members fell victim to. 

When his peers fell in and out of love, Rollo remained impartial - a stone-cold statue of a president, unswayed by human emotion.

That was, until he met you.

—[1]—

A friend of a friend, that was who you were. A fellow third year who stayed just under the radar: never aiming too high, but never stooping too low. Just another face in the crowd, no one whom he would need to ever speak with.

The first time he sees you is in the library, during a study session between him, his secretary, and his vice president. Despite being part of the student council and already having a lot on their shoulders, Rollo’s top priority was education - and naturally, he would not let his peers fall.

It was obvious from the way their table was isolated that no one dared to even be near them. There were three other chairs at the table, but not a single soul dared to touch them, even if the library was overrun due to the upcoming exams.

Well, apparently you were not one of those souls.

“Um… Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Even if your voice was silenced to a whisper, the library’s murmurs skidded to a halt, as though someone had pressed a pause button. Suddenly, it was as if everyone in the world was holding their breath, their piercing gazes lining your back. Even Rollo’s friends looked afraid for your safety, his secretary giving you the most incredulous of looks.

And if asking to sit at their table wasn’t bad enough, you’d made the poor choice to choose the seat directly next to Rollo himself.

You were already regretting your decision, but you’d already committed to the act. Right now, your need to study was stronger than your fear of Rollo, and you were not going to join the poor souls on the floor.

Rollo was probably the only one who seemed unaffected by your request. He only glanced up from his paper for a moment, his striking green eyes meeting your own before he gave you a curt nod and returned to his work.

To say he was surprised was an understatement. His shock only deepened when you sat down, unloading your bag and taking out all of your study materials after a quick wave to his secretary. In only three minutes, you had settled into your work - as if you weren’t sitting next to the most feared and respected man in all of Noble Bell.

It was refreshing.

Soon enough, the library forgot you, and the hushed whispers rose back up again - both with gossip and with the frustrated grumblings of struggling students. As Rollo reviewed his lessons, studiously jotting down important notes and underlining key concepts, he couldn’t help but find his gaze drifting over to you.

Although you didn’t say anything (why would you, you were in a library), he could tell that you were stressed - even more so than usual. The frustration in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, the eraser shavings and the scrambled calculations a key signal that you were having trouble. 

Looking at what you were struggling with, he recognized the practice test for your upcoming chemistry test. Being the responsible student council president he was, he naturally stepped in to assist.

“You forgot to use the formula.”

“Huh.” You startled, your voice coming out strained and irritated at the sudden interruption. Rollo points at your calculations.

“Look here,” he explained, pointing at the rate table. “When they give you the Kc, the temperature, and the balanced equation, you use this to find Kp.”

Without any sense of shame, he reaches over and writes a formula next to your calculations. His handwriting is absurdly neat - almost as though it had been printed. You blank at the formula, recognizing it as the one you’d learned in the first lesson of this unit.

You groan in frustration as you erased your writing one more time. “By the Seven… I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t belittle yourself,” Rollo comments offhandedly, returning to his notes. “It happens to the best of us. Rather than a matter of intelligence, it’s an issue in memory and sleep deprivation.”

“You’re the one with eyebags,” you instinctively mutter. Instantaneously, the world freezes as you register your snip. Your eyes widen, and you’re already spewing apologies while Rollo stands still, caught off guard. “Sorry, that wasn’t my-”

“Are you always this straightforward with strangers?” he asks, and without thinking, you shoot back a retort.

“No, are you?” Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth, horrified. “Oh my God, I am so sorry-”

His face is turned away from you, but you swear that you caught the corners of his lips twitching - quirking up into the slightest of smiles. “Be careful with your words.”

“O-Of course," you sigh. “My bad.” 

“Take care not to do it again.” Just as quickly as it came, Rollo’s smile disappeared, returning to neutrality. Perhaps he had never smiled at all. Thinking logically, you’re more inclined to believe the latter option.

Even his fellow council members are shocked. Rollo raises a brow at the way you rub your eyes, trying to make sense of what you saw. You’re so expressive, unlike the other students who kept it all hidden behind a mask of professionalism. It was refreshing, endearing even.

“You’d better get back to work now,” he advises (although it sounds like an order), his pen moving once more. “Exams are not meant to be taken lightly.”

“Right,” you mutter. Rollo’s eyes crinkle at the blatant distaste on your face as you reluctantly return to chemistry. You weren’t the only student who hated studying, far from it, but you were definitely the most open about it - especially in front of Rollo, who was infamous for his strict personality.

It’s not long before you test the waters and lightly tug at Rollo’s sleeve. Wordlessly, he glances over, and you show him your newly formed calculations - almost like a child showing off their newest drawing to their parents.

“Is this right?”

Rollo peers over at your shoulder, scanning the work you’ve written. He nods in satisfaction, looking over at you with something akin to pride.

“Good work,” he praises.

“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You smile up at him. “It’s mainly because you helped me, though. So thanks for that, President.”

“Just Rollo is fine,” he assures calmly. You blink.

“You sure?”

“I prefer my name rather than my status,” Rollo explains. You hum in understanding.

“Gotcha. Thanks, Rollo.”

Rollo’s pen stills. You shoot him a questioning look, but he brushes it off and continues studying. He didn’t expect you to say it so easily - maybe he’d thought you’d be more hesitant.

But he doesn’t hate it. 

Rather, a small part of him finds that he rather likes the way his name rolls off your tongue.

—[2]—

You don’t expect to see Rollo again after that encounter, but it seems that fate had other plans.

Magical History wasn’t your favorite class, but it wasn’t the worse. You didn’t mind learning about the wars and inventions, and if anything, that made it all the more interesting to you. But your favorite part of it was how different people took up different sides and perspectives on each part of history.

You tapped your pencil impatiently against your notebook, eyes flicking from the chalkboard and to the clock. Class wasn’t starting for another five minutes, but you were anxious to get started. Today’s lecture was primarily for review, and Lord knows you needed it.

You glance over when someone sits next to you, only to choke on your spit when you see it’s Rollo Flamme himself. You rapidly scan the lecture hall, only to become more confused when you see that there was a multitude of seats open - in fact, the room was rather vacant.

“At ease,” Rollo says, his monotone voice not helping him in the slightest. You cough, smiling at him weakly. Suddenly, his tall stature was all the more apparent. “The view from here is the best in the room.”

“Yep…” You rub your arms awkwardly, suddenly cold despite the warm uniform you don. Now you were really praying that your teacher would show up quicker.

“Are you alright?” Rollo asks, noticing your demeanor. The subtle concern in his voice would’ve surprised you if you weren’t already freaked out of your wits. “Are you perhaps cold?”

“Nope!” You hastily reply, startling him with your raised voice. “I’m just peachy.”

“Peachy?” Rollo questions, but it seems like the Seven had been looking over you that day. You’ve never been more relieved in your life to see your teacher, today’s savior, walking through the door.

You have no idea how you manage to focus on the lecture with Rollo right next to you. Just his presence enough is intimidating, suffocating even, as though he was watching, judging your every move. He doesn’t even do anything special - he’s just listening to the lecture like every other student.

Sometimes, you think you see him staring at you, but whenever you look over, he’s quick to avert his gaze. It’s almost impressive, and you almost say something about it - except even you know better than to antagonize the student council president during a lecture.

For the first half hour of the lecture, you’re stuck in this state of constant edge, barely able to relax with this 6-foot giant practically looming over your shoulder. He wasn’t even doing anything in particular, but he didn’t need to. Just being there is enough to put you into fight-or-flight mode.

Sometimes you wonder if he’s just a sadist and likes watching you squirm.

You’re very correct.

Rollo’s only half paying attention to the lecture - he knows all of the content already. Rather, he finds entertainment and peeking over at you, seeing you freeze and stiffen up whenever you catch him in the act. It’s a game of cat and mouse for him, something he finds adorable.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” you whisper from the corner of your mouth. Rollo raises a brow.

“We shouldn’t be talking in class,” he replies simply, pretending to be paying attention. You roll your eyes.

“Nice dodge,” you scoff playfully, and Rollo smiles. It’s not much - just a quirk of the lips, so small that you’d have to squint to see it. It’s a smile whose warmth is subdued, like a little match in a snowstorm. You can’t put your finger on it; it’s almost like fondness, except that doesn’t sound right for the Rollo Flamme.

"You’re smiling," you state the obvious. Yet there's a certain awe in it - someone would've thought that Rollo had grown two heads by the way you were looking at him.

Rollo’s pen stops in its movements. He seems to lag for a moment, surprised and unsure, before his lips straighten and he’s back to normal.

“Is there an issue?”

“No,” you laugh. The initial fear you had felt has dissipated. Rollo’s smile, despite being so small you'd have to look at it through a microscope, was still a smile. “Just didn’t expect it from you, y’know? Since you’re all big and serious around here.”

“I see,” Rollo says quietly, turning away. If it weren’t for his stone-cold face, you would’ve compared him akin to a kicked puppy.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” you say. “I think it looks nice on you.”

Rollo remains silent, but the slight widening of his eyes is key enough. It's enough to bring a smile onto your face as you return your attention to the lecture.

Rollo doesn’t say anything after that, but he doesn’t need to. Any tension that had existed between you two had evaporated, the invisible wall opening its gates. Your body has visibly relaxed, and you’re able to fully concentrate on the lesson again.

In the corner of your eye, although you’re almost certain you imagine it, you think you see Rollo’s eyes soften.

—[3]—

When you’re not studying your sanity away at school, you’re working.

You work part-time at one of the many bakeries in the City of Flowers, famed for their pastries. You also sell coffee and tea for the many tired students from the college (such as yourself), so you’re used to seeing many of your classmates coming in the morning.

Around a month has passed since your little moment with Rollo. To put it simply, the two of you have gotten closer.

Studying together in the library became a common occurrence as you found yourself frequenting Rollo’s table more often. Apparently, Rollo’s standards wouldn’t let you study in peace, so he opted to personally tutor you to appease his own state of mind. In his own words, he couldn’t stand by and watch a classmate struggle in front of him.

Safe to say, Rollo was a strict teacher. He wasn’t afraid to point out the inconsistencies in your work, and often gave you tips on what to do. You were afraid that he’d get irritated with how much you overthought everything, but the most he’d give you would be a gentle tug on the cheek whenever you got ahead of yourself.

You look over at your shoulder at the modules you had left to complete. Thankfully, the number of papers had drastically decreased, thanks to a certain someone. Unknowingly, a smile slips onto your face at the thought of him.

The bell rings, and you’re immediately in work mode. You plaster on a customer service smile, straightening behind the counter.

“Hello, how can I help you- Oh hey, Rollo!” Your face breaks out in a grin at the sight of your study partner. “What’re you doing here?”

Honestly, it’s weird to see him without that uniform of his. Seeing him in a casual turtleneck and coat feels almost illegal, like you’re looking at something that only certain people should see.

“Oh, it’s you,” he briefly acknowledges, bright green eyes meeting your own before scanning the vast amount of display pastries. A month ago, you would’ve taken his apathetic greeting as coldness. But having been in his presence for quite a while now, you’ve learned to pick up the smallest of ques.

“Can I get you anything?”

Rollo tears his eyes away from the tempting pastries. “A medium black coffee, please.”

You nod, nimble fingers already moving to ring him up. “Will that be all?”

“Yes,” Rollo confirms, digging into his coat pocket for his wallet. As you tell him the price, you take out a coffee cup, writing Rollo’s name on it in sharpie. Turning your back to him, you opt to add a little message alongside it.

While you make the coffee, Rollo sets himself down in the corner of the bakery, taking out his study materials. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on the croissants, almost longingly. In the back of your head, you remember one of your conversations (you’d tried distracting him so that you could get a break. It lasted 3 minutes).

“So, what kind of food do you eat?”

“The same as everyone else.”

“No, like when you’re out. You know, like in your free time?”

“Oh. I suppose… Croissants. I’m rather fond of them.”

“Eh, makes sense.”

You figure that he’d probably skipped breakfast again, knowing him. Apparently, breakfast was optional to him. Despite being only 18, Rollo was already living the life of an overworked salaryman, always worried about his council and studying his life away.

But being the good friend you were, you weren’t letting that slide. Rollo was going to take care of himself, whether he liked it or not.

“Rollo?”

Right on cue, he stands up, walking to the counter to retrieve his drink. By all means, you give it to him, but right before he leaves, you call out to him.

“Oh, you forgot this!” 

Rollo’s brows crinkled at your exclaim. How could he have forgotten anything? The only thing he ordered was currently in his hands right now. Still, he returns to the counter, ready to call you out on your mistake.

He doesn’t get the chance to.

You press something wrapped and warm into his free hand. Looking down, Rollo’s pleasantly surprised with a freshly baked croissant. He jerks his face up to meet your gaze, confusion written all over his typically stoic face. It’s nice, to finally surprise him for a change.

“I know you didn’t eat breakfast today,” you explain cheerfully, leaning on your forearms on the bakery counter. “You didn’t think I would let you spend your day with just a coffee in your stomach, did you?”

“I can’t take this,” Rollo protested, already moving to hand you back the croissant. You click your tongue.

“Nope, you are,” you push his hand back. His hands are cold, you note. “It’s on the house, trust me. And if the owners have a problem with it, I can always pay for you.”

“But-”

“No buts,” you smile cheekily up at him, propping your head onto your hand. Rollo’s ears flush at just the tips. “I know you want it anyways, so stop being stubborn and just take the thing, okay? It’s fine, don’t worry.”

Rollo stares at you, conflict flickering in his eyes. To an outsider, he’s outright glaring at you, but you know there’s no malice. 

You can already imagine the inner turmoil fighting in his mind. On one hand, he wants the croissant - he’s been eyeing it for a good ten minutes - and he’s hungry. On the other hand, his moral righteousness won’t let him take anything without paying.

But in the end, his hunger (and you) wins him over. He sighs, reluctantly giving in.

“If you insist,” he says cooly, ignoring the way his heart pounds in his chest. “I’d best be going now. I’ll see you in class.”

“See you,” you wave, straightening yourself. Rollo turns to leave, but right before he does, you hear a faint murmur.

“Oh, and… thank you. For the croissant.”

—[4]—

“Every day, without fail, the president climbs the tower to clean the Bell of Salvation.”

It’s pouring outside when you remember the words of your friend, Rollo’s secretary. Looking outside your dorm’s window, the streets are dark as rain cascades from the sky and onto the city. Even from inside your warm room, you can feel the cold from the outside.

You can’t help but wonder if Rollo was also out there, still cleaning that Bell.

You wouldn’t put it past him, to be honest. That man was nothing if not a workaholic. Your friends in the student council had told you of how he spent countless all-nighters just to put together school events, and that wasn’t including his work as a student. But you didn’t need them to tell you any of that. Rollo’s constant eyebags and coffee addiction told you plenty enough.

You sigh to yourself, leaning onto the window. Your friend notices your sulking, sighing to himself as he walks over. You’ve been like that for a good twenty minutes now.

“President Flamme will be fine,” he says, sitting across the windowsill from you. “He always is.”

“In this weather?” you ask, barely sparing him a glance. “He’d catch a cold before he gets any cleaning done.”

“You’d be surprised,” your friend laughs. “He can be pretty persistent when he wants to be.”

You chuckle, eyes softening with the memories. “You've got that right. I still remember how he made me stay up for two hours until I could get a problem right. He even got food so that I couldn’t use it as an excuse for a break.”

“He did that for you?” Your friend’s eyes widen in surprise. You nodded sheepishly, a fond smile creeping on your face.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it either.”

Your friend snickers knowingly. You shoot him a look, only for him to brush it off.

“Anyway, if you’re that worried over him,” he suggests, “why don’t you go up and check on him? You’re the least likely to get yelled at if you do.”

“That’s what you say,” you roll your eyes playfully. “But you have a point. Unfortunately.”

“Always do,” your friend huffs pridefully. He winks at you as he lightly pushes you toward the exit. “Don’t worry about sneaking out. I’ll cover you.”

That’s how you found yourself scaling the old bell tower, holding an extra coat in your arms, a small flame dancing in the palm of your hand for light. You were careful to keep the flame from fanning out of control, as the tower was made from wood.

Your legs ached by the time you neared the top. You had no idea how Rollo did this on a daily basis, much less in the raging storm.

The wind battered at your face the second you reached the highest story, blowing rain into your eyes and nearly putting your flame out. Struggling to shield yourself from the wild tempest, you squint through the raindrops for Rollo. Thankfully, you didn’t have to look too far.

“Rollo?” you call out, your voice straining against the wind. Faintly you can spot the tall silhouette of your friend, somehow completely fine and still dutifully polishing the bell. “Rollo!”

The silhouette freezes, and turns to meet your gaze. You sigh in relief when you see the familiar green of his eyes, pushing your way through the storm to meet him.

“What are you doing here?” Rollo asks, caught off guard by your appearance. His gaze wanders over your body, noticing how drenched you were getting. “The storm is dangerous, you’ll catch a cold.”

“That’s what I should be saying!” you huff, lightly hitting his chest. “You’ve been out here cleaning the Bell for how long again?”

“Only an hour, the rain helps-”

You roll your eyes, putting your hands on your hips. “Only an hour?! You’re the one who’s going to get sick at this rate!”

“But I’m not-”

“Yeah, yeah, no, we’re going inside,” you retort, grabbing his hand. Rollo surprisingly doesn’t protest, allowing you to drag him off his precious bell and back into the safety of the tower. It’s by no means warmer, but it’s definitely drier.

You sit down on one of the many tables inside the tower, cringing as the walls shake from the wind. But you know that the tower won’t fall. It’s old, yes, but it has prevailed through storms like this before. The Bell of Salvation’s magic still runs strong.

“Your hands are freezing,” you comment, Rollo’s hand still intertwined with your own. His hands were always cold, but today they were like blocks of ice. You run your thumbs over the palms of his hands, cupping both of them before whispering a small spell.

Warmth tickles your palms like little embers, providing you and Rollo solace in the freezing winter. You let out a breath of contentment, before realizing just what you were doing. Snatching your hand away, you frantically apologize - not noticing the dejected look in Rollo’s eyes as you do so.

“Great Seven, I am so sorry-”

“I don’t mind,” Rollo says quietly, purposely avoiding your gaze. He silently thanks the darkened room for preventing you from seeing his flushed ears.

“You don’t?” you question, looking up at him. Briefly, you saw a glimpse of red before Rollo hastily looked away, lightly shaking his head. You feel your face warm, but decide to blame it on the magic. Hurriedly, you look for a way to change the conversation.

“So… I didn’t notice it earlier, but how are you perfectly dry in that storm?” you ask, rubbing your arms, cringing when you noticed how soaked you were. Rollo looks relieved from the change of subject.

“Magic,” he explains easily, as if it were obvious. And it kind of was. You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Oh, right,” you chuckle, glancing down at your ringed finger. You hummed, waving your hand and blasting yourself with a gust of hot air, effectively drying yourself. “It really solves everything, doesn’t it.”

Rollo’s face visibly sours at your comment. “Is that how you really feel?”

The coldness in his voice surprises you. You’ve never heard such hatred and malice from him before. Had you said something wrong? 

You swallow nervously. “What do you mean?”

“Do you truly think that magic solves everything?” Rollo crosses his arms, a scowl twisting his face.

“Well, it depends,” you say carefully, not wanting to set him off. You can already hear the warning bells in his tone. “The way I see it, magic’s a tool.”

“Even if it’s evil?” Rollo questions angrily. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself against him.

“I don’t think it’s evil,” you say firmly, yet softly. “I mean, look at this city. The Bell’s magic protects us, doesn’t it?”

“It didn’t protect-” Rollo cuts himself off. You give him a look, but don’t pry. It isn’t your business to ask nor to know what had happened to him for him to despise magic this much. He hadn’t said much, but it’s obvious to you.

“Like I said, magic is a tool,” you continue, facing him fully. “It’s like a knife. When you’re stabbed, you don’t blame the knife, but the person holding it.”

Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you can see the turmoil twisting in his eyes. You’re challenging something that had been in his life longer than you have, something that you’ve never seen.

You decide to take a risk, a step forward. Reaching out, you cup his hands in yours once again. Rollo only watches, confusion and anticipation keeping him curious.

You whisper your spell once again, except this time, the embers blossom into fire. Sparks of flame surround the two of you like fireflies, dancing daintily in the wind. Warmth like a mother’s embrace envelops the two of you as you hold a flickering flame in your intertwined palms.

The glow of the fire illuminates Rollo’s face, entranced by the blaze. Something moves in your chest, and you find yourself scooting closer to him so that you can bask in more of this warmth.

“Magic can be dangerous,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You’re right beside him at this point, your shoulders nearly brushing together. Rollo turns to look at you, his face uncharacteristically gentle. You don’t notice, keeping your gaze on your flame. “And you don’t have to like it. But it can also be beautiful.”

You laugh to yourself, sighing as you lay your head on Rollo’s shoulder. You hope he doesn’t hear how loudly your heart beats. He doesn’t react, but he also doesn’t protest.

“You know, you worried the hell out of me earlier,” you suddenly confess, the flames dancing in your eyes. “I mean, you already do, with your sleeping habits and how much pressure you put on yourself. But today was… Well, it wasn’t our best day.”

“...I’m sorry,” Rollo whispers, and you almost don’t hear it. But it’s genuine, heartfelt, and sincere. You feel an arm wrap around your waist, bringing you closer together.

You smile, relaxing into his hold.

“As long as you’re okay.”

Neither of you acknowledges the position you’re in, nor the intimacy of it. You don’t have to. For now, all you do is rest, and enjoy each other’s touch.

You don’t see it, but eventually, Rollo closes his eyes, and leans his head onto yours.

It’s the most relaxed he’s ever been.

—[5]—

Rollo thinks he’s going to die.

Not literally, of course, but he was pretty close.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing out here, taking a leisurely walk around the city streets with you. He has no idea how you managed to drag him out of his uptight uniform, or how you convinced him to enjoy the snow and the festivities.

He sighs, pulling up his scarf to warm his face. You already made him layer up quite a bit, but just to be safe, you also wrapped that around him to make sure he didn’t accidentally die from touching a snowflake.

He chuckles at the thought, his breath fogging in the cold winter air. The way you constantly fretted over him, overthinking everything and taking care of him… His cheeks warmed at the thought, a fond smile overtaking his lips without him noticing.

“I’m back! God, that line was so long and I swear this lady cut in front of me and I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so badly-”

Speak of the devil, and they shall appear. Rollo’s breath clogs in his throat when you run up to him, two steaming cups of hot chocolate in your hands. He can’t help but think of how cute you were in your winter apparel, all cozy and warm.

He mindlessly tunes out your rantings, only half listening as he simply stares at your lips. Even when he takes one of the cups you offer him, he only watches. Eventually, he sees you running out of air and reaches out, patting your head to shut you up.

“Are you done?” he asks. You huff, sipping your hot chocolate to make yourself feel better - nearly burning yourself in the process.

“Yeah, I’m done,” you giggle, sticking out your tongue to cool it. “Sorry about that.”

“I like hearing you talk,” Rollo assures, effectively flustering you. Reaching out, he lightly tugs your cheek. “And be careful when you drink that. You could’ve burned yourself.”

“But I didn’t,” you mutter, rubbing your cheek with a pout. Rollo raises a brow, but you brush it off. “Anyways, how’s the chocolate?”

“Hot,” Rollo says bluntly, making you snort. “But also sweet.”

“Do you like it?” Rollo nods.

“It’s perfect for a night like this,” he observes, looking out towards the bright lights that litter the snow-covered city.

“Right?” you hum cheerfully, the snow fluttering around you prettily. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

The two of you quickly found a bench to seat yourselves on. You lean back onto the wooden chair, happily drinking away at your chocolate. You only stopped when you feel a presence at your shoulder.

Looking up, you let out a sound when you found Rollo’s face mere inches away from yours. Your breath hitched at the sudden proximity as you froze in place, becoming a mere statue.

You only snapped out of your phase when you felt something soft pressing up to the corner of your lips. Rollo dabs at you with one of his many handkerchiefs. The pure concentration on his face only manages to fluster you more until he pulls his hand back, seemingly satisfied with his handiwork.

“You had chocolate on your lips,” he explains, not noticing the way you stare at him, blood rushing to your face.

“...Oh,” you manage out, your voice small.

You can practically feel Rollo’s breath ghosting on your lips. Subconsciously, you held your breath, watching him carefully for his next move. Rollo seemed to have the same idea, uncertainty taking hold of him for the first time.

The two of you waited with bated breath, waiting for the other to take that risk. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared into a flash of white.

But you both hesitated too long.

Rollo jumps as something tugs on his coat, effectively breaking the spell. He looks down to see one of the city goats staring up at him cutely, bleating for his attention. Begrudgingly, he sighs and reaches down to pet it.

The goat unfortunately uses that to jump on him. It attempts a bite at his cup, but thankfully, Rollo has quicker reflexes than one would think. His height also means that he’s able to hold the cup far out of the goat’s reach.

“No, you don’t,” he grits out, the goat’s weight heavy on him. “You can’t eat chocolate, fool.”

Something about Rollo unironically calling a goat a fool was just too ridiculous for you.

You break out laughing, your eyes crinkling. Rollo’s chest constricts at the sight, his arm relaxing for a second as he stares at you in awe - barely noticing when the goat tries again for his cup.

There are few things that he could call precious. But your smile, this moment, your laughter… He would say that they were the brightest treasures in the world.

—[ + 1 ]—

Rollo isn’t stupid.

He isn’t oblivious.

He knows the way he feels isn’t normal. He knows the way he wants you, craves you, needs you, is anything but. He always knew.

But what sets it in for him, is when he sees those couples in the streets of the city. When he sees those loving gazes towards one another, the way they hold hands, and how comfortable they are with each other, he’s no longer filled with indifferent disgust.

Rather, he wonders how it would feel to do that with you.

What would it be like, to be able to hold you and call you his own?

He’s wondered for a while. When you cup his hands in your own, he relishes in your warmth, but finds himself wanting more. When you look at him, he becomes lost in your eyes. When you smile, he sees your lips, wondering how they’d feel pressed up against his.

It’s a strange thing for him, to want something so badly.

So when he finds himself nestled in your arms, finally resting, he’s conflicted.

With his head laying gently on your chest, he practically melts into your hold. Your fingers thread through his hair, softly petting and massaging his scalp as you do. His eyes are closed, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist.

He's able to let go with you. He allows himself this small moment of vulnerability. He lets you hold him, finding redamancy in your touch. For in your arms, he is safe - this is his home.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice muffled by your clothes. You hum, playing with his hair.

"Of course," you shift the delicate locks between your fingers. "That's what friends are for."

Friends. He finds that the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Friends, yes, that was what you were. A month or two ago, he would've been fine, delighted even, to be called such a thing.

But is it so wrong to be longing for something more?

You must've felt him stiffen, as you look down at him in concern.

"You okay, Rollo?"

He really isn't. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he raises his head to look at you.

Your hand falls from his hair to cradle his face, your thumb tenderly swiping over his cheek. Rollo closes his eyes in contentment, nuzzling into your palm - almost like a kitten, you'd comment later.

"You're unfair," he mumbles, peering at you once again. You tilt your head, prompting him to continue. He reaches up, covering your hand with his own. "You dare to hold me like this, and yet you still only call me 'friend'."

You hum, looking away bashfully. "I was afraid to call you something else."

"You were afraid of nothing." Rollo lifts his head, moving your hand so that he could press a kiss to your palm. His eyes stayed trained on yours, waiting to see any reaction - as if he was asking for permission.

The look you give him is nothing short of loving. It's what pushes him to test the boundaries even further, to push himself up. You look up at him with hidden intrigue, knowing, and even anticipation - as if you knew just what was coming ahead.

Rollo lets go of your hand, taking a hold of your chin instead, tilting it up to face him. His eyes search yours carefully, still hesitant even now.

You nod your head, silently giving your approval. Your words have lost you, unable to make it past the lump in your throat.

Rollo leans forward, close enough so that your noses brush against each other. Taking one last breath, he takes the dive, closing his eyes and gently pressing his lips to yours.

Instantly, your eyes shut as if falling into a trance. Your hand trails up to the back of his head, holding him there as the other reaches to wrap around his waist - bringing him impossibly closer.

It’s over before you know it. When Rollo finally pulls away, you instinctively follow, chasing him. It’s only when Rollo lightly pushes you back that you peek your eyes open.

In the swirling forest of his eyes, you see amusement, adoration, and most importantly, gratitude.

Not a word is spoken when Rollo falls back into your arms, and you are there to welcome him, as you always have.

[jessamine-rose]

✿ Artifact Set: Beloved Darlings ✿

Read my I Love You, Darling series first!!

As y’all know, I became rlly fond of writing for the Yandere! Harbingers and their darlings……aaaand that’s how I ended up writing Artifact Sets for them. Each set features four stories, two for the darlings’ backstories + two fic epilogues. I hope you enjoy <3

Characters:: Capitano, Pantalone, Dottore, Pierro + their darlings

Tw:: YANDERE, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, mention of child abuse

Notes:: Female readers, fic spoilers

Capitano x Damsel:: Herbarium and Fairytale

✿ Discarded Doll

A broken princess doll. After numerous owners and stitches, the toy was left forgotten in the forest behind Mondstadt Orphanage.

Once upon a time, there lived a Damsel who was cursed by the gods.

Raised in an uncaring orphanage, her childhood was one of noise and solitude. In this liminal shelter, all companions were temporary and no belongings were private. And so the child gave up on those things, dreaming of the day she would be given a home to call her own.

Following her adoption, however, the Damsel’s new family revealed themselves to be cruel villains who took away her bright smiles and outspoken words. After days of torment, she was finally returned to her first prison, only to be silenced by her caretakers.

In the end, no hero came to save her. The Damsel waited for the day she became of age and was discarded once more.

✿ Overdue Library Book

A collection of fairytales borrowed from Mondstadt Library. The list of previous readers has been removed, and the front page is vandalized with the words “Property of ______.”

From the beginning, Mondstadt Library was her personal wonderland.

When she was an orphan, it offered a peaceful hobby. When she was a child of the Maiers, it provided a faraway refuge. It was natural for her to remain there as an adult, though it entailed the new task of maintaining the silence and sharing books with her once-fellow patrons.

It was literature which taught her the basic meanings of family, home, and love. When she tired of the false promises of fairytales, she turned to real stories only to be disillusioned with her inferior qualities. Her debilitating misfortune. Her unanswered prayers.

“Oh, I get it now. Love does exist. It’s just that the gods have deemed me unworthy of it.”

And so she escaped to her fairytales once more.

✿ Pressed Sumeru Roses

A preserved bouquet of violet rambler roses. Presently, the flowers are kept on display in the Captain’s bedchambers.

After their happy ending, the Damsel finally found a home in her Snezhnayan prison.

The Captain was protective throughout their honeymoon, but they left Sumeru in good spirits. Upon their return, a few tasks were accomplished before she could resume her normal routine.

Her belongings were unpacked and returned to their bedroom.

Her bookcase was reorganized to accommodate her new books from Sumeru.

Their bedroom was decorated with newly-pressed flowers, and her husband allowed it.

Lastly, she finally joined him in their bed. She’d missed that piece of furniture least of all.

After all, it was Capitano who blessed her slumber with warmth, and they shared the same bed in Sumeru.

“Ah, it’s good to be home.”

✿ Letter from a Devoted Knight

An envelope bearing the official seal of the Fatui. Delivered alongside the letter is a box of fresh flowers native to Natlan.

During the Captain’s latest mission, a Fatuus visited their home.

By then, the Damsel knew what their arrival meant. This time, they gave her both a letter and a wrapped gift.

The flora of Natlan was beautiful. She could only imagine the efforts taken to keep the flowers fresh for her hobby. If only Capitano was here to witness her smile.

As always, the letter was better than any book.

“My beloved flower, every day without you brings me grief. I could only imagine the smile on your face if you were able to view the flora of Natlan with me. My mission is far from over but once the Pyro Archon’s Gnosis is acquired, you shall be the first to hear of my return.”

“My lady, are you all right?” asked her guard.

“It’s nothing, Cyane.” She wiped her tears and continued reading. “Don’t bother me.”

It had only taken a few decades for her to meet her knight in shining armor. In comparison, what was a few more months before their happily ever after?

Pantalone x Kitty:: Housecat and Alea Iacta Est

⬩ Ornamental Comb

A bejeweled comb worn as a hair accessory. A few hairs are caught in the comb’s teeth, bearing a soft texture similar to cat fur.

She was born to a prestigious family, and this was where her luck began and ended.

Neither the firstborn nor the gifted child, she was the disappointment. Unnecessary, unexceptional, and therefore useless.

However, she had the same expectations of a child born into high society. All she had to do was to smile and play along with her family’s ruse, and that would be enough to validate her position. Never mind what she did in her free time, and for that she was satisfied.

In fashion, she found a genuine passion for aesthetics and history. A beautiful outfit was all it took to attract the attention of others.

In dance, she found an opportunity to participate in social events. Regardless, most interactions were on account of her family name.

Beyond the arts, she donned a mask of false serenity. But such details were of little consequence—who would ever come close enough to notice her cracks?

⬩ Smaragdus Jadeite Ring

A simple wedding ring with a square-shaped smaragdus jadeite in the center. The jewelry piece was left behind by its owner.

On her twentieth birthday, her family finally found a purpose for her.

Without her brother and friends in attendance, she easily surrendered to her parents’ commands. For what future lay in wait for a useless child stripped of wealth and prestige?

She didn’t cry when her family reacted to her Vision with anything but delight.

She didn’t cry when she accepted her wedding ring—a plain, impersonal decoration.

She didn’t cry when she realized the hollow nature of her engagement. If anything, she left the hotel and dissolved into bitter laughter.

“Why should I care? That is another marital duty off my back, isn’t it?”

“I feel like shopping. What shall I buy? A dress, necklaces, lots of rings…if he complains about my spending habits, I need only ask about his whereabouts tonight.”

“Yes, this is fine. Love—what a cruel word. In the end, it is just connections, agreements, people using one another. Since love does not exist, I shall simply settle for the next best thing.”

Yet no matter how much finery she indulged in, it was never enough to fill her heart.

⬩ Electro Crystal Collar

The favorite accessory of the Regrator’s wife. The collar matches the personal aesthetic of the Ninth Harbinger.

Her first sacrifice was made in the fashion district of Snezhnaya.

As the Regrator’s wife, she had to complement his image. Scandalous engagement aside, her husband’s reputation would be damaged if she was perceived as a tasteless foreigner.

The Snezhnayan outfits were so pretty. Her husband selected the perfect garments for her—a never-ending closet of dresses, jewelry, heels, perfumes—all in his signature colors.

The collar was her personal favorite. It was an intricate necklace commissioned just for her, the most valuable treasure of the Regrator.

Later on, she would resent that accessory and the pain it brought her.

But with time, she grew to appreciate her collar again. By then, there was no need to worry about her outfits clashing with her Vision.

⬩ Surrendered Pyro Vision

A Pyro Vision separated from its owner. The divine gift is currently in the Regrator’s possession.

Her memories suffered the brunt of the loss of her Vision.

The majority of her life could be remembered in clear detail. But in every instance where her divine gift was used, that was when her memories became hazy.

Fortunately, she had a loving husband who was willing to explain everything to her.

There was their first dance at the Shang family’s gala. Under the glittery stars, they had waltzed to a slow, lively orchestral arrangement.

There were numerous arguments split into blurry fragments. Only later would she realize how foolish she was in refusing to understand her husband’s concerns.

There was the accident which revealed the dangers of her own self. But it was through this catastrophe that she learned the extent of her husband’s kindness.

Love—what a beautiful truth. And now it finally belonged to her.

Dottore x Assistant:: Chemistry and Magnum Opus

♡ Drawing of a Nilotpala Lotus

A crayon drawing of a Nilotpala lotus. The picture is accompanied by a written description.

Since her youth, her only dream was to observe the world.

Her village was the perfect home for a budding researcher, teeming with all sorts of natural wonders and phenomena. The flora, the fauna, the daily sunrise—everything was there, just waiting to be discovered. Nature could not have produced a more ardent admirer.

It was this passion which drove her to enroll in the Sumeru Akademiya. On the day of her departure, she and her family exchanged bittersweet farewells. After all, who knew when they would see each other again?

That was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

The world was so beautiful, and she wanted to learn everything about it.

She had so many questions, and her curiosity could not accept a vague answer.

If only she knew the price for such knowledge.

♡ Scholar’s Journal

An old notebook belonging to a former scholar of the Sumeru Akademiya. The pages are full of written notes and coffee stains.

The Akademiya was where her dreams died out.

In this sea of knowledge, her great mind was put to the test. It was a race against other geniuses to manage the brutal workload and to prove one’s worth in the academe.

After her first month, her time was totally consumed by her studies. Rarely could she spare a few hours for her friends and hobbies.

After her first year, slumber became a scarce privilege. Her physical and mental processes suffered as a result.

After her first promotion, she had lost the passion essential to her research.

“All of my questions have been answered…what now? More lessons and theories to solve, I guess. It will all be worth it once I graduate.”

“Anatomy exam, botany presentation, thesis proposal…when will it end? I will need to postpone my personal research on the Nilotpala lotus again. Maybe coffee will help.”

“The world has become so dull. Perhaps I shouldn’t have searched for answers.”

♡ Syringe of Love and Dreams

A used syringe which serves as an ornament on the Doctor’s desk. The barrel holds the residue of a viscous gold chemical.

Over the centuries, a scholar rose to infamy in the Fatui. This individual was known as the Doctor’s assistant, his loyal supporter who stood by him in every inhumane experiment. One may doubt her allegiance to the Tsaritsa, but never her love for the Second Harbinger.

Many had speculated on the origins of their intimate relationship—and were swiftly punished for it. The price for such knowledge was a merciless death, whereas misinformation begot an increase in the Doctor’s test subjects.

Together, the couple made several discoveries regarding the truth of the Old World. Such advancements could have never been undertaken in the name of the Sumeru Akademiya, of which they had cut ties with.

To the world, they were the heretical Doctor and his fanatical Assistant. But behind closed doors, they were Zandik and ______ who shared their research, dreams, and secrets with one another.

♡ The Doctor’s Mask

A gray-and-white mask retrieved from Haeresys. The garment was used to conceal the wearer’s face, with the exception of cutouts for his eyes and right cheek.

The acquisition of the Electro and Dendro Gnoses was a triumph for the Fatui, but a tragedy for the Doctor’s Assistant.

After all, she was in the presence of his Segments when their lives were traded.

In the wake of their elimination, she rushed to her lover’s office and burst into tears when she found him in stable condition. Zandik was safe, unharmed, responsive to her embrace.

“Hey, Zandik, you’ll never leave me, right?”

“Oh? I believe I’d answered that question a long time ago. And this is no time for sorrow…unless you were more partial to my Segments than you cared to admit.”

“Still, each clone was a special version of you. And to think that the Dendro Archon rebuked their creation! Who knew how close-minded she could be?”

“Indeed, and the loss of my Segments will be strongly felt in the upcoming weeks. We have so much work to do while their positions are vacant.”

“Well, at least that means more time with you. That blasted Traveler…I swear, I won’t let them lay a hand on you, Zandik.”

“I could say the same for you, my dear.”

Pierro x Savior:: Disjecta Membra and Chess Piece

✧ Archon War Trophies

A pair of damaged weapons in the Fatui inventory. The equipment was discovered in an ancient temple, specifically a storage room for hunting traps.

In her long life, she had been called by many names. The God of Mist who provided a safe home for her followers. The All-Knowing One whose powers disabled secrecy and escape. The Starry One who had lost everything. █████, the beloved friend of her fellow gods.

It was during the Archon War that she gained her least favorite title, Death-Mist.

The carnage of the event would remain vivid in her memories. There was a ruined temple. A mangled body which burst into fire without any last words. Two ruthless gods who were slain in turn. Earth and flesh stained with her blood. The fear of several humans, including her own followers.

Perhaps that was the moment they began to lose faith in her.

It didn’t matter. It was her fault, anyway.

Only once revenge had been enacted did the loving god come back to her senses and move onwards.

“Oizys, Pasithea, are you all right? Those gods…they can’t hurt us anymore.”

“I’m sorry for not going with their option, Vesta. May you rest in peace.”

“My precious lambs, let us leave. It is time to find our new home.”

✧ Scattered Fragments

Pottery shards scattered across the floor of an ancient temple. Put together, the pieces form the shape of a dinner plate.

Her first observation of humanity birthed her talent for the culinary arts.

Hunger was such a curious sensation for living beings. It was this need for sustenance which led to many important patterns in daily life.

By hunting and gathering, one preserved the natural cycle of life and death.

In the kitchen, even a humble mortal could partake in creation.

At the dining table, everyone was equal.

“█████, isn’t this too much for two people? …Hey, it’s all right. We can eat the leftovers tomorrow.”

As the number of plates decreased from her table, so did the conversations. One day, the noise and her appetite disappeared entirely.

✧ Bloodstained Thurible

A silver Catalyst stained with blood. The powerful relic rests in the Jester’s private collection, kept under lock and key.

Their first act as a couple was to cook cream stew together.

“Pierro, were you always this slow at kitchen prep?”

“Might I remind you that I am still recovering from my injuries?”

“So am I. Just give me the knife and trade places with me.”

“I already said that you are forbidden from handling sharp objects.”

“Give me a break! Do you even know how to butcher a wild fowl?!”

Despite their quarrels, the couple felt closer than they had been in months. Perhaps it was the nostalgia of the activity or the god’s acceptance of her fate.

The cream stew turned out satisfactory. In the passing centuries, the dish frequently appeared on their dining table in Snezhnaya.

✧ Stellar Embroidery

A variety of garments embroidered with four-pointed stars. The clothes include a white necktie, a translucent veil, a small gown, and a baby’s blanket.

“Mother, we’re home!”

“Oh, Hecate? What time did you and Father arrive?”

“A few minutes ago. Don’t tell him that you know, but we bought a gift for you!”

“Aww, thank you! Did you have fun in the town square?”

“Yup! What are you sewing this time?”

“Just another Khaenri’ahn star. What do you think?”

“Hmm, it’s pretty but I like your other designs more.”

“In that case, do you have any suggestions for my next piece?”

“Can you sew snowflakes on my handkerchiefs? Oh, and Inteyvat flowers for this dress!”

“What a lovely idea. And would you like something to match with the twins?”

“Maybe. Are they—oh, Father, look what Mother made!”

“Welcome home, love.”

♡

After two months, I finally remembered this WIP lol. I just want to say thank you again to everyone who enjoyed my fics. Your support truly means the world to me!! And how could I not give a shoutout to my bestie @diodellet for once again indulging my brainrot and proofreading my nonsense?? (*´∇｀*)

Tag a Harbinger/ Darling enjoyer!! @oofasleep @leftdestiny-posts @nicebonescomrades @thescribeoflostmemories @surveyycorps @gum-iie @yanmaresu @bonknigirlinthehood @melody3cherryblossom @lazyroseart @harmonysanreads @kocherry @moarar @lcveaesop

[moonlit-imagines]

Robin and the Stray (Part 2)

Dick Grayson x Kyle!reader

warnings: blood n death ment and urge to puke teehee

a/n:

prompt:

part 1

Joining the Titans wasn’t exactly something you had in mind. The Titans were all kind-hearted heroic-types with these clear cut motives and tragic or powerful backstories that drove them to do good. You were here for two reasons: Dick moved to the other side of the country and you were being “rehabilitated” from your kleptomanic ways while Selina was serving a short sentence.

It felt awkward being in their presence, every glance felt like a glare. They must be thinking how dare y/n stand and fight beside us, theyre nothing but a common criminal, a petty thief, we can’t trust them. Dick had always assured you that they didn’t think less of you, but when anything was misplaced they always seemed to look to you for an answer.

You and Dick had been together for a few years now, and not all of those years were you a cat burglar. Maybe here and there, mostly for kicks or just to prove you still had it in you. Sometimes just to mess with Dick and Bruce. But Dick never stopped trusting you, he found it amusing more than anything and you grew to love each other deeply. Nothing could change that.

You were already sort of a vigilante before you were inducted into the Titans, usually sticking to the lower levels of Gotham and helping women steal their purses back or a kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stuff like that. Unless, you know, Batman and Robin needed a hand.

As far as the Titans went, you were genuinely happy in San Francisco. It was a nice change of scenery after growing up in dark and gloomy Gotham. Dick felt free without Bruce standing by, doing what he could to make you feel comfortable here. Taking you on dates to new restaurants and going to beaches on your days off became a regular thing, something to make you forget you felt like you didn’t belong.

You had your own room, which was a nice change considering you and Selina typically shared or one of you slept on the couch or somewhere else depending on the night. Although, you spent most of your time in Dick’s room, it was hard to sleep alone most nights, he was like home to you. He’d mindlessly play with your hair and rubbed you back to ease your worried mind. He kept you sane.

But missions were different in so many ways. You had each other’s backs, sure, but you knew well enough that the two of you were more than capable of handling yourselves. Years of fighting against each other and beside each other made the team observer you two in awe, your fluid teamwork was incredible. To you, it was just another day.

“You okay?” Dick asked with your cheeks in his hands, looking down at you with a wet washcloth pressed between your cheek and his hand. “Don’t tell me you’re concussed, I’ll have to stay up all night with you.” You both chuckled weakly.

“I’m fine, just wiped from the past few nights.” You sighed as he wiped grime and blood from your face. You winced when he brushed against just below your eyelid where a bruise was budding. “I really got my ass beat tonight, huh?”

“We all did.” Dick wiped stray hairs from your forehead. “You seemed distracted, though. Thinking of me?”

“Gotham. Just homesick.” You told him and he kissed your forehead and continued you clean your wounds. He was pretty banged up, too, but he could tell you needed some TLC. “I love it here, but you know. I miss all that stuff. I miss Selina. I miss my cats. I miss Commissioner Gordon giving me shit for stealing and then helping him. I miss Bruce giving us lectures about staying focused. I miss Alfred trying to give us ‘The Talk.’” You rambled on while Dick nodded along, and your dull laughter caused another wince as you realized you maybhave a bruised or broken rib. “I miss you sometimes.”

“I’m right here.” He told you.

“Will you always be?” You asked.

“If all goes well.” He pulled out some bandages.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You continued to question.

“It means I don’t know the future and I won’t promise something I might not be able to control.” Dick explained in his smart-ass way. “It’s just the job, y/n. You know I love you.”

“I know you love the job.” You said tilting your head down and eyes up before he picked your chin back up.

“I don’t.” He replied.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Your sigh left his stomach slightly drop and you slid down off the table you were perched on. “I have to get a quick shower in, I’ll be back.” You trotted off the the bathroom to do so and left Dick alone with his thoughts, which you might have sparked something in him at this time. Unbeknownst to the two of you and the rest of the team, your lives were about to b me turned upside down in the worst of ways when Deathstroke entered your lives.

Your head was spinning at the time you heard the news of Garth’s passing. You fell into Dick’s arms and he held you so tightly. You felt as if you might puke and the rest of the team was right with you. Any barrier keeping you and them was broken down, there was no more tension or fear that kept you from getting close, the grief brought you all together.

It was Donna who apologized to you first, letting you know your worries were not that far off and there was a lot of distrust in you, but they moved on from it. It was the load off you needed after this tragedy. And Dick felt guilty he put you in that position, started blaming himself for so many things. You’d thought he’d get distant in all this anguish, but he wouldn’t let you go. He held on tight and began to worry for you more than usual, which worried you greatly. And it sucked because after all that happened with the Titans, you two had no choice but to go home.

“It’s what you wanted, right?” He asked you on the plane ride home, sitting across from each other on Bruce’s private jet.

“Not like this,” you stared out the window, picking at the seams of your jeans, “I just started feeling like I belonged. Now I’m leaving a place that felt like paradise. I really did love it there.”

“We can go other places. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Dick leaned forward and grabbed your hand. “I hate this, too. I love you, though. Wherever you go, I’ll go. It’s fine.” You closed your eyes and nodded.

“For now we’re going home.”

And you were home and it was dull and lifeless and you felt all the joy you had slip away as you fell back into old habits. Started to realize you stole because you were bored, you roamed the same streets and rooftops over and over because it was just what you did, you laod around all day and played with the cats but nothing was ever different. Not even when there was some huge debacle with a villain that belonged in Arkham Asylum. Not Two-Face or Riddler or Joker or Mr. Freeze or whoever’s weekly turn it was to enact a failure-destined plan to take over Gotham or kill Batman. It was all the same.

You sat on the same ledges and ate the same Pizza with Dick. You had meals at Wayne Manor with Bruce and Dick, a spot reserved for the late Alfred was an unfortunate change and maybe the only one. Bruce was paying your rent, offering you a bigger place or maybe one for you and Dick to share, but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to it. It already felt like you were taking advantage of him.

Don’t get me wrong, you loved Dick with all your heart, but he was off, too. It was obvious he fell back into his old ways. And something about it made it obvious he’d grown too fond of his life as a Titan. The independence and emancipation from Batman, where he called the shots and could do nice things with and for you. Maybe the guilt set in after another year or two or three. Because one day you were fine and the next, it was over. You looked back and realized that that promise you wanted him to make was never going to be fulfilled because he never felt secure himself. But that was his problem now, you would have helped if he’d let you.

It was awkward seeing each other in passing. After all, neither of you gave up your vigilantism. But avoidance was key. It was only a matter of time before he decided Gotham was too small for him now. You heard he’d moved to Detroit, good for him. You hoped he’d moved on and was doing well, you sure weren’t getting there anytime soon.

Then one day a few weeks later, you heard your phone ringing. Blocked Caller. You stared at the screen for a few moments grabbing the phone and holding it for a few more before you pressed the answer button. You put the phone to your ear but said nothing.

“Y/N? Y/N, it’s me. I need your help. I just—I need you.”

taglist: @volturi-stuff // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @brutal-out-here // @jinxll11 // @swanimagines // @captainshazamerica // @greek-mythographer // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @summersimmerus // @glxwingrxse // @azazel-nyx // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @evilcr0ne // @sydknee624 // @retvenkos // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck //

[zermbie-dergon]

Little things I learned about the members of Constellation:

- Andreja feels like an outcast to the rest of the group and doesn’t feel like she’s included in their group activities.

- On the flip side, Barrett will try to invite Andreja to join him and the others in said activities and she always declines (this includes things like movie night, dancing, cooking, listening to music, board games and having drinks together)

- The members all get together to have movie night and take turns picking out the movies

- Andreja tries so hard to make jokes with Barrett but he always knows what she’s gonna say. She gets discouraged but keeps trying

- Barrett and Vlad once spent 5k of Constellation’s credits to throw a party on The Eye

- Sarah is completely against Sam bringing Cora along with him. She suggests leaving Cora with Matteo to ensure her safety. Sam becomes irritated and defensive and says Cora goes with him.

- Sam and Barrett are sports bros and love watching games together. If one of them isn’t around to watch the game, the other will record it so they can watch it together later

- Sam has terrible spelling

- Barrett is actually his last name. His first name starts with A but (as far as I know) we don’t know what the A stands for

- Sarah seems to fill a kind of motherly role of the group, checking in with Barrett after being held hostage by pirates, keeping Sam on track, watching out for Cora, reassuring Andreja, etc

- Sam and Barrett seem to cause the most trouble or make the most mistakes in the group. Barrett will try to joke and laugh it off until Sarah threatens punishment. Sam however can get grumpy and irritated when “Sarah Perfect Morgan” calls him out on it.

- Andreja has some knowledge in cooking

- Barrett does as well and will cook large meals for the group

- Cora will occasionally take some of Barrett’s stuff, usually books, without asking leading to Barrett going to Sam to get them back

- Sam seems to get easily distracted while on missions. “Sam, did you check out that thing I asked you to?” “Well I was going to but then I got caught in a goose chase-” “So did you or not?” “I was going to but then there was this thing-” “Should I just assign someone else?” “Uh that would probably be best”

- Andreja really wants to teach Cora self defense and how to fight and use a weapon. Sam is uncomfortable with it and tries to brush Andreja off. She doesn’t get the hint though

- Sam keeps an open tab at the bookstore in Akila City for Cora. She's supposed to be cut off at 100 credits but tends to overspend

- The stress Sarah is under must be obvious to the other members as multiple members of Constellation will ask if she is doing ok

- Barrett tries to get Noel to join them in space but she declines and reveals how much she is overworking herself. She then admits that she had nothing but her smarts to get her ahead in life

- Sarah is Cora’s favorite member of Constellation. Sam is her second favorite

- Not knowing where Andreja is from and her backstory drives Matteo crazy. He will vent to Sam about it who tells him to let it go and everyone is allowed their secrets

- Aja recruited Barrett into Constellation

- Sarah and Vlad recruited Andreja into Constellation

- At one point in his life, some people called Sam “Sammy”, he now detests the name and “goes by just Sam now”

- While Barrett was grieving, Aja sat with him in his room. He doesn't remember what she said but her presence was comforting and that’s what he remembers most

- Despite not having many credits himself, Sam is willing to help out those in need whether it's loaning credits to Barrett, keeping an open book tab for Cora or donating to those in need.

- Sarah is not afraid to ask Walter for money. They have some banter back and forth but Walter always signs the check

- Nadia at SSNN tries to get Sam to dig up dirt on Jacob. Despite the estranged relationship with his dad, Sam refuses

- Barrett and Sam have both been to jail at least once

- Sam and Sarah have an ongoing debate over which is the superior beer. Sarah suggests they go bar hopping one day to test their theory.

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

🦅Russell Adler Headcanons

{Author's Note} Since I'm literally obsessed with this man, I thought I'd post my headcanons for him. All of these are based off of his canon backstory and character with bits of my own speculation thrown in so nothing should be too out of left field here. I may end up posting more of my thoughts on him soon so we shall see. Hope y'all like it and I'd love to hear what you think, as well as any headcanons you guys might have! Tagging @littlemissclandestine for this since she's an Adler fan. Let me know if I did this man justice lol🤭

‼️Content Warning: swearing, suggestive themes‼️

~ ~ ~

-Badass asshole

-Takes awhile for him to soften enough to really love someone

-Flirtatious jerk when he has a crush

-Shows he cares through small actions that can be hard to notice, as well as vague, rather backhanded compliments

-Shamelessly stares from behind those glasses of his

-Thinks it’s really cute when you wear his shades but would never admit it

-Stylish with heavy 70s influence

-Probably modeled for a male fashion magazine at some point LMAO

-Definitely knows how to dance

-Seems like the type to meme a bit on British people (specifically Park lol)

-Very sarcastic, sometimes to the point that you don’t realize he’s actually joking because he's always so monotone

-Secretly loves Belgian waffles (this is a reference to that one Bruce Thomas TikTok lol)

-Has a soft spot for the Beach Boys (I mean, look at that 🎶bushy, bushy blonde hairdo🎶 of his)

-Since so many people have asked and teased him about it (I see y'all in the fandom and I will not accept this slander lol) -> his hair isn’t fake, it’s actually pretty soft, very bouncy, he likes styling it

-Very particular about his appearance as it is one of the few things that he can truly control

-Prefers cats over dogs

-Can get obsessive about certain things and lose himself to them (i.e. his search for Perseus) -> Mason quote: “He spent so long searching for Perseus, he didn’t notice when he lost himself.”

-Still struggles with PTSD from his time in Vietnam, which, alongside his obsession with finding Perseus, is what led to his divorce

-Carries a lot of guilt and regret that he doesn’t like to acknowledge

-Started smoking to cope with the trauma of war, now has a nicotine addiction; when he’s really stressed, he chain smokes like a chimney

-Gets restless if he doesn’t have a cigarette

-Doesn’t sleep well and when he does, he usually wakes up every few hours

-Scars - Shrapnel? Abuse? Torture? Animal attack? No one knows and he’ll never tell

-Kiss or trace those scars and he WILL melt

-Difficult for him to let his guard down

-Has a tendency to isolate himself -> Mason quote: "You were never alone, Adler. Only in your own stubborn head."

-Always wearing those damn glasses cuz STYLE but also to hide his eyes to remain as a sort of blank, emotionless slate to other people

-Absent parents who never showed him real love or support as he grew up so he struggles to do the same for others -> they were the reason he joined the army as soon as he turned 18

-When it comes to cuddling, he loves holding you against his chest and running his fingers along your arm, cheek, or through your hair; small but intimate actions like that are his favorite

-Doesn’t like to show emotions at all, even during more intimate moments; he needs some coaxing to relax in that way, which takes time

NSFW Below👇🏻 (it's really not too bad tho)

-Sit on his lap👀

-Will pin your wrists during the sexy times🫣

-EDGING & OVERSTIMULATION

-After his divorce, he's tended to view sex as more of a transaction where both parties are fulfilling needs for each other so he'd be selfish at first but as your relationship progresses, he'd become far more generous

[stealerofthe2ndbraincell]

ARCANE ACT 3

LIVEBLOG TIME! 🎉🎉

(Once again, more like a reaction then a live blog but sssh)

S2 Ep8: Killing Is A Cycle

Mel in the Ebenezer Scrooge chains again (I know it was Jacob Marley that was in the chains throughout but still) :(

THIS TRANSFORMATION IS SO COOL.

Would be a bit cooler if she wasn't screaming bloody murder throughout but I get it.

They really took some of the excellent bits of her design and decided to really lean into them more for this.

I kind of wish the internet hadn't fucked over the word "empath" cause that made me giggle.

We can't see the sorceress from here but is she meant to resemble the girl from Mel's backstory?

I need to stop pausing to say this immediately before it happens.

Okay so it isn't her, duly noted. I would suck in a fight against this thing.

Did it really say "yeah you're cool but you can still be stabbed, so how powerful are you actually 🙄🙄".

Calamity and Red seem to be associated strongly cause I immediately thought of Breath of the Wild.

I'm living for this backstory.

She must be so cold.

It's all coming back :((

OH SHIT VIKTOR'S IN THE ORB NOW.

God. That's terrifying. Viktor is suddenly extremely terrifying to me.

I'm surprised Ambessa isn't remotely surprised at him mentioning Jayce. He was probably missing for months at this point.

"I will evolve all those willing" so everyone? Everyone in your cult, Viktor? Because they're a literal hivemind so I doubt he'd have much problem.

VI I MISSED YOU.

YOU DID NOT HAVE TO HAVE THAT ISHA FLASHBACK OMG:((

Why does it look like a pokeball? That's so distracting lol

God Maddie is failing across the board, it's embarrassing, girl...

This argument between Cait and Vi was so deserved to be honest.

Maddie is probably hearing all of this...

I never considered Jinx would surrender.

Is Jinx not eating?

Damn what if you just punched me in the gut wow...

Her nails bleeding HURT me so much

"no amount of good deeds can undo OUR crimes" I'm so interested in the "our" from Caitlyn....

Jayce, love ya, but I am not on your side in this argument.

Although, Mel I think calling him and Viktor a "wise investment" in this moment is probably not the move either but still

I was slightly concerned that Jayce's flashbacks (? Would that be the right term for these) would stop once Viktor was "killed". Apparently not.

I'm happy for this turnabout.

I thought in Act 2 he reminded me of S1 Jinx and I'm pushing with that idea now.

Oh nevermind. He almost shot Viktor again.

I know it is very likely one of his followers and not actually Viktor, but damn that robot waist line lmao

Poor Mel probably has very little clue what's going on right now.

I'm distracted by Jayce's design tbh. The black and red colour scheme is sooo nice on his new look.

....

...Well that caught me off guard...

He STILL wants Jayce to be his partner WHAT :'(

"My partner died in this room." OUCH

MEL, MY GIRL!!! 👏👏👏👏

I want to be more enthusiastic for her, but she looks borderline in pain whenever she uses her magic so far :((

WHY ARE YOU PURPLE, JAYCE??

WAIT SO WAS VIKTOR WAITING TO SEE IF JAYCE WOULD JOIN HIM BEFORE STARTING THE EVOLUTION?

After last episode I legitimately, for a second, thought Silco was still alive.

He's not a nice person at all obviously, but in Jinx's hallucination he seems to sound harsher to her?

I did not need to see her spit that out up close.

Wait. It actively fell from her mouth where is it?

O W

I AM SO SCARED, JINX. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GOING TO "BREAK THE CYCLE"

Is there a reason Mel needs to wear the cloak?

"You will never be a passenger". Listen , I was actually hoping for more from my Jayce and Mel interactions. Both scenes they feel very off-kilter and standoffish of each other. A lot more tense then before (for understandable reasons considering what they both just went through) that I was hoping would start to heal.... but has'nt. However, that line hit.

I am obsessed with the designs of these background characters.

Am I missing something? Who is that playing that random piano??

I feel bad. I don't recognise him.

This entire sequence hurts.

OH. Wait I think I get the inclusion of the piano man. I hope I do otherwise I've just completely forgotten a character lol

[mdhwrites]

My Frustration With Belos

As a presence, Belos is fantastic. He actually has probably some of the best animation in the series and arguably the best voice actor in the entire cast. He sells every line Belos has with a gravity and menace that the emperor might otherwise not have. He sells his anger but also his control and even after I stopped liking the show, I found my attention demanded when he desired it.

Unfortunately, as a character he absolutely fucking sucks and is almost impossible to take seriously.

He only functions as Belos. Not even Emperor Belos because once you bring in that title, you have to tilt your head and ask "Well, what is he as an emperor? How does he use his minions to enact his will? What is his will?" In that order:

He is a kind, stately emperor who only asks for one rule to be obeyed. Even if you stayed out of the fold, if you come to him willingly seeking forgiveness, you will be granted it and absolved of your crimes, like with the wild witch friend in Hollow Mind. He revolutionized the Isles, turning them from seeming small towns to a now interconnected nation (his rise to power is literally impossible with news being able to spread so people can fact check him) and brought safety and regulation to a land that has none (Terra acts like the Safety codes in Them's the Breaks are new or something so beneath a proper witch as to be able to be entirely ignored and no one cares.) No one faces persecution except those who flaunt breaking his one rule but you may be of any race, skin color, belief, etc. and he doesn't care. You are all equal in his eyes.

He uses his minions weakly. They are bumbling fools who are honestly better at party planning than they are at combat (look at... Literally any fight with the EC scouts frankly. The literal only wins they get is raiding an empty, unguarded house and attacking two exhausted, distracted witches who are out of power.) They are seemingly not punished for this though except supposedly at the higher ranks. Even then, they are merely demoted. Those who wish to leave also show no fear in doing so, as proven by the EC scout who says fuck this and goes off to join the cute cat coven. This displays a lack of interest in power or enforcement.

His will appears to be to bring order to a land of chaos. To bring structure and unity to a land that didn't have it. He will go to any length, including manipulation, lying and threats in order to obtain this. He keeps mystique about him, seeming to believe that being feared is stronger than being loved, fitting with his claims that the Titan speaks to him and wishes for a rather extreme societal change. One he will see to no matter what.

These are... Actually interesting. You know, until you remember his actual goal is the genocide of literally every living being on the Isles. Then they come across as incredibly stupid, inept and backwards for what ANY of his goals should be and that's without getting into how his plan explicitly left out the entire child population of the Isles. This means he didn't even actually want to get the job done properly before he fucked off.

That is befitting Philip and Belos though as actual manipulators. They both are on easy street as far as it goes. The one manipulation we see from Philip is by using two people who clearly want something from him and are interested in helping him so so long as he doesn't literally start throwing fists, he's fine. Belos meanwhile leverages Eda's curse against Lilith, an entire fake backstory against Hunter, and just being Kikimora's boss to get what he wants. Anyone not in the EC though he never manages once to actually convince of anything and he is pretty bad at actually keeping up his deceptions.

This is of course made worse by knowing that 400 years ago, that commanding presence that is Belos... Was actually just a whiny British bloke who couldn't even wait until after his victims were dead to gloat about it. I tooooootally still fear him, especially as S3 commits narrative contrivance after narrative contrivance to A: let him be ALIVE and B: to let him win, CONSTANTLY, without also murdering the main characters. Like he literally tells a group of witches and a monster "I'm saving your souls," while he has them all at his mercy, having already shown he was more than capable of beating them all... And leaves. Because he is REALLY bad at his goal.

And honestly, him being so bluntly tied to a movement, time period and ethnicity that all bluntly say he's Christian without saying he's Christian... Actually just kind of makes him worse. Knowing his beliefs makes his behavior BAFFLING. He has none of the actual zeal and fury of a crusader, who were so bloodthirsty as to have peasants march on their own as they screamed Deus Vult, nor does he have the actual politics and methodologies of colonizers. The closest he is is a missionary and that's not even the case because he's not interested in conversion, only genocide. He is just an asshole who has the label "Christian.

It says nothing. Most of his character says nothing. They slam you over the head saying he should be saying something, that his backstory should be deep and that he had grand plans but if you interrogate these claims, no he doesn't. He says nothing except "Christianity bad" and essentially condemns the ENTIRE RELIGION because of how little nuance there is to him, his backstory makes him look pathetic, whiny and potentially sympathetic which makes no sense with the rest of his character, and his grand plan was literally DESIGNED to fail because he never gave it any real thought or else he would have baptized witches into being in covens so they had the sigils from birth and he'd get ALL OF THEM.

He is perhaps the personification of what is wrong with TOH in this way. If you look at any one scene, it seems to promise so much. The animation is correct. The voice acting is correct. You can see what themes he's supposed to be talking about and can make a Twitter post very easily about it. But... These are all surface level and only function as moments.

As a whole story, as a whole character, it falls to tatters as you see there was nothing there except conflicting promises and basic fantasy tropes.

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

I'm trying to not blog about TOH as much anymore because I'm just kind of tired of it but Belos has always been a thorn in my side because there are so many scenes that are so effective with him but when I think of him as a whole, I have nothing but boredom and annoyance. So I wanted to properly explore that and highlight how little sense his character makes and why just consuming him like popcorn is functional, even good, but if you try to have him for dinner, you'll find only bones.

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

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

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.