#and like the connection i do have that i mention bc it is so important to me.. that does all of those things

[caeslxys]

I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

[bunnihearted]

being too weird and unlikable and off putting and always being shunned and turned into an outcast everywhere i go and not having felt the connection and healing friendship has on you for so many years has really done a number on me

[hexados-on-a-string]

spectragus dont get enough credit for being a sun and moon ship but like. destructive sun and moon ship. sun and moon ship but they're the forces of nature the sun and moon actually are. the sun is harsh and relentless and unpredictable in its evil but also it's kindness, the moon is sharp and cold and cruel, a harsh light that doesn't allow you peace, but can also guide you, a light in the darkness. even on nights with a new moon, with no light in the sky, the moon is always reflecting the sun, and it'll be that way until they come to their end.

[autism-corner]

guy JUST realized he might have a thing for eye-covering bangs.

[capaldiera]

it was so not the point of mash and would have been jarring tbh but like rn i'm wishing father mulcahy had actually talked about religion in more than just little quips. girl what are your thoughts and what things do you like to focus on. btw

[lesbiankordian]

.

[vaugarde]

oh also we watched the mlp g5 movie yesterday and i really liked it tbh ^^ it was very cute and vibrant and all the character designs were pleasing (in fact i really prefer looking at these characters in cgi), and izzy was my favorite, tbh i kinda just love every character kimiko glenn voices

[theonlyadawong]

one of these days im going to sit down and have a hard think abt 9/11 and how that fits in w resident evil

[nomairuins]

i wish there was a way for me to likeee. semi change this one thingin this one mod. but 1 im not a modder 2 i feel like thats disrespectful. i just want sort of an inbetween between the game and this mod but that is not a thing that exist... sigh

[nocturnalcharm]

SWF Alphabet (Logan Howlett)

𐙚 cw: mention of sex briefly, cursing

𐙚 a/n: all of these are just my ~opinions~ so feel free to disagree w me lol also maybe a lil self indulgent so probs not v accurate to wolvie but its alr :,) NOT PROOFREAD

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— doesn’t start out affectionate, but once you’ve got a deep connection, he becomes more affectionate. loves hugs and surprising you with gifts

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— would start bc of the team obv. feel like he’d be the type of friend where,,, if you called him at 3am, for any reason, he’d be out of the house and otw to you at 3:01.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— as much as i want to say yes.. like realistically no. bc nightmares and claws and trauma. but likeeee this is my blog bitch so yes hehe. he’s a big cuddle bug. def likes to be the big spoon but doesn’t mind being a lil spoon sometimes.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— yes, he could see himself settling down but doesn’t rly care for getting married though, he just doesn’t see the point of it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— (im crying) if he HAD to, i feel like he’d push it off and become more distant until you ask him what’s wrong, then he’d tell you everything. ookaY NEXT I DONT WANNA BE SAD

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— i feel like he wouldn’t want to get married, not for a specific reason, just like doesn’t see the point. is committed to you though and if it was rly important to you, he would.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— hA. physically yes very gentle unless ur having sex. emotionally………. nah. like if it’s a rly serious situation then yeah but he might not realize how serious something is until he’s already made an ass out of himself and then he’s like //oh shit i fucked up//

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— heheh… yes. he hugs you all the time. literally always. coming up behind you while you’re cooking, or brushing your teeth and bear hugs you. he just likes touching you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

— oof. he takes awhile to say it. he def says it first though. but like.. awhile. probably like a year.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

— WHEWWWW I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. he’s very jealous. he says he’s not. but his actions show otherwise. like says he’s fine but can’t keep his hands off you (when he normally hates PDA) ugh i love it. just wants to show everyone you’re his.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— passionate. leaves you wanting more. he likes to kiss you allllll overrrr. he likes to be kissed on his neck. and his chest when you’re cuddling and he doesn’t have a shirt on. and lips but duh.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

— cautious, like kinda scared. especially around babies. doesn’t know how to handle them lol

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

— sleepy, cuddly mornings. staying in bed for as long as possible.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

— i like to think you two stay up late together. watching movies, cooking food at midnight, you two often fall asleep on the couch instead of the bed

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

— he doesn’t start getting rly personal until he knows you’re someone to trust, but it’d take awhile. he reveals things slowly.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

— unless you do something to really piss him off, which you wouldnt, i feel like he’d be chill (with u only obv, angry wolvie w everyone else)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

— sorry but like he remembers every detail you’ve told him. he comes home randomly with a specific candy bar you mentioned you like ONCE 2 years ago and is so proud of himself.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

— when he first said “i love you”. he was so vulnerable and scared honestly but everything was fine and you said it back!!

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— VERY. VERY BITCH. he will cut a bitch to protect you. literally. ‘touch her and you die’ vibes.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— i kinda feel like unless it’s something rly important, he wouldn’t put that much effort in but not bc he doesn’t care. bc you like to go over the top and plan out everything lol

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— isn’t great at communication. prob bottles things up until he kinda blows up whoooops. he definitely tries but has a hard time opening up.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

— he cares, have u seen his lil tufts? isn’t obsessed but puts effort into his appearance. just wants to look good for you!!

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— ummm yes. it takes a lot for him to open up & be comfortable around someone so if you just weren’t there anymore, for whatever reason, he would feel incomplete

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

— imagining him getting ready for date and he’s styling his lil tufts and ur waiting on him like ‘babe hurry we’re gonna be late!!’ and he’s just trying to perfect his hair so he looks good for you omg

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

— as a yapper this hurts to say but… if you talk too much i feel like it’d annoy him. just imaging you going on and on and on and in his head he’s like ‘get to the mf point ohmygoddddd’

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

— like i mentioned earlier, accidentally falling asleep on the couch lol. sorry but he snores and you have to shake him to make him stop

[queenpiranhadon]

Hey hey

I wanted to request a dad aizawa x singer daughter :))

She is his only and biological daughter and wanted since she was little to become a singer and musician but never told Aizawa becase she thought he would told her to become a hero, and one day he finds her singing and playing an dificult instrumen.

Thankss

A/N: HIII IM SORRY THIS MIGHT BE KINDA BAD BC I HAVENT HAD A HEART TO HEART WITH MY DAD IN A WHILE LOLLL Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): reader uses she/her pronouns, slight cursing, inaccurate Japanese translations lol, violin terms bc I'm a violinist :), reader's biological mom is dead, Aizawa became a dad at 19 - he's like 34 in this jsyk, reader's 15-16 yrs old, mentions of being disowned, fluff, mentions of depression and death, Kae makes a really bad pun, hime means princess in Japanese

Pairing(s): Shota Aizawa x daughter f!reader (PLATONIC)

Link to the song in this fic~

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴍᴀᴛꜱᴜʀɪ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

“Goddamnit!” you groan, as you fiddle with your violin. (LMAO PUN!! sorry) 

Your fingers ached, as you tried to nail down the pizzicato run at the top of the page. However, your fingers refused to move with the fluency they used you, and you felt the calluses starting to develop on the surface of your fingertips. 

Self-teaching yourself to play the violin was a pain in the ass, but you were determined to go to a performing arts school once you graduated junior high. 

The only problem? 

Your father was Shota Aizawa, underground pro hero Eraser Head, and was not only a pro, but also a teacher at UA High School- one of the top schools for pro heroes in training. 

You loved your father to the ends of the earth, as he did you, considering your small family only consisted of the two of you, your mother having died during childbirth. Aizawa, only 19 at the time, struggled with the loss of his lover, but you helped him get through it. 

You were his pride and joy, the perfect combination of his love and himself, his precious daughter. 

Nothing you could do could make him hate you. 

And you knew that, but your insecurities were bigger. 

What if he wanted you to become a pro hero like him? 

In all honesty, you didn’t see that future for yourself. It was an honorable job, one that you knew was very important, and a job many children wished to have in the future, and yet, that was never your dream. 

Pro heroes went out every day, fighting with their lives on the line, patrols constantly, dealing with paparazzi, not to mention the

paperwork

. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t ambitionless, no, certainly not, but it wasn’t something you found passion in. 

But to be fair, if you were successful in your career path, there would sure be a lot of paparazzi either way. 

You were set on following a path into the performing arts, but it was always a little disheartening whenever you heard your Uncle Hizashi or Auntie Nemuri go “Awww Y/N! You’re going to be an amazing pro hero when you’re older, so kind and so determined” 

You knew they meant well, but still. 

Sighing you set down your violin, gently setting it down in your case and safely securing you bow in before tucking it underneath your bed. That’s where most of your instrumental arsenal lived, all compact and tucked away, awaiting your every musical whim. 

You worked tirelessly to earn enough money for each of your instruments for the past two years, combing through online marketplaces and sales to find decently priced quality instruments. 

Grabbing your keyboard and setting it up, your fingers find their way to ivory keys that played a sequence you knew well. 

The notes left your fingers immediately, music filling your bedroom walls as a stream of tunes flow like a waterfall, smooth and connected, and yet, somehow still intense in its own way. 

Music is a form of communication, you always thought. The right notes paired together convey moods, thoughts, feelings. It always amazed you how something as simple as sequential pitches could convey something words never could. 

Ai shika kanjitaku mo nai (I don't want to feel anything but love) you sang, letting yourself get lost in the music. 

Mou nan no wakehedate mo na (There's no difference anymore)

Matomete kakatte kinasai (Please call all at once)

Ima nara subete uketomeru kara (I'll accept everything now)

~

You finish the song with a resounding chord, the room eerily quiet without any music flowing through it, until a slow clap breaks the silence. 

“Well, what do we have here?” 

You jump in surprise, scrambling away from the keyboard to see your father standing in the doorway of your room, the look on his face unreadable. 

You turn bright red and feel your heart sink. 

You never told your father about your dreams and aspirations for the future- what would be say now? 

You steel yourself, taking in a deep breath. 

Calm down, Y/N. He wouldn’t disown you because you don’t want to be a pro. And plus, it’s my life! I should have a say in what I want to do. You think to yourself. 

“Dad, I don’t want to be a pro hero...” you mumble out, refusing to look at him. “I want to be a musician, or a singer! I really like music and it just...really makes me happy.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you think with a sinking heart that he’s furious, but then a chuckle is heard, almost deafening in the silent room. 

“Oh, thank god.” he exhales in relief, leaving you staring at him, dumbfounded. 

“Y-You’re not mad...?” you ask, extremely confused. 

“Oh no, of course not hime - don't even think that. I'm so sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me anything. ” he says, and you’re put at ease. “Everyday, pro heroes go through pain and hardships to try to save the people of this world.” 

He sighs “Many pros lose their sanity and fall into an abyss of depression and despair because it’s too much for them. “he looks at you, his eyes genuine and sincere. “I don’t want that life for you.” 

You hug him, and his arms wrap around you comfortingly. 

“I love you dad.” 

“I love you too, hime.” 

Then he pulls away with a sly grin on his face. “So, you gonna show me what you’ve been working on?” 

Your face flushes and you shove his arm playfully. 

“Dad!” 

[seelestia]

⟡ to set one's self aflame. (do it all for love.)

⎯ how protective are they of you? how do they protect you and how do they like being protected in return? { s for security ノordered by @phantovia! }

RESERVED FOR! ꒰ character ꒱. lyney ft. gn!reader. { 1.5k words wc }

FLAVOR! ꒰ genre ꒱. fluff & sprinkles of lore angst, established relationship.

TOPPINGS! ꒰ tags ꒱. lowkey a character study made poetic (???). mentions of self-destructive habits, also pls don't smile at lyney bcs he's weak in the knees for u.

BAKER’S NOTE! ꒰ thoughts ꒱. thanks for the req, yona! i got to appreciate this silly guy all over again thanks to u ‹3 ik ur acc is already archived so i hope this made for a nice tribute. pls take care of urself & have a good life ahead 🫂

© seelestia on tumblr, june 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

lyney is protective to a concerning extent. the instinct of an older brother, maybe?

there is some sort of irony to be found in it all since the reason he protects to a 'concerning' extent is out of concern in the first place.

behind his show of brilliance, you consider yourself lucky enough to have witnessed a side to lyney that his audience wouldn't have guessed; that he is a worrier in every aspect of the word. whether for his family, for you, for his friends or for others he comes across that are plagued by misfortune - if all that worry were to come in the shape of dimes, he'd already have an abundance of them to share with the entire nation of fontaine.

but he has no choice, does he?

his background is not a clean slate nor is it a display of sunshine and rainbows resembling his magic shows. lyney's hands are tainted, covered by his gloves as a measly means of self-solace. he has to worry. associating himself deeply and intimately with another is a risk on its own - comparable to dragging someone else down into the murkier depths with him. he can never do that, never has the courage nor the heart to.

(but fortunately for him, you've always been braver than most.)

. . .isn't that why you offered your hand, your trust to him first? he swore to never let you down from that day on.

easier said than done, however.

the house of the hearth operates within the shadows but as for its foes? some also prefer to dwell in the dark and some move in broad daylight. no matter what it is, they all require the same precaution: for him to keep his guard up at all times. every child has been trained by “father” to know that but you're an innocent, tied to this precarious matter merely due to your connection with him.

(“i don't regret anything,” you told him but he didn't look into your eyes, conflicted. you couldn't tell if he believed you or not.)

how was your day? have you eaten? you look sad, did something happen? — all these little questions are a way for him to show that he cares, that you're important, that you're his responsibility and he'll be there for you.

bound by both guilt and love, lyney promises to keep you safe. from whatever kinds of threats there are; whether it be fools with nefarious schemes or even an insect you're too scared to touch, he'll keep you safe all the same. so please, don't hide from him if you're dealing with something. it's better to let him handle it. . . right, correction: the two of you can handle it together.

(truly, his desire to protect can both be his greatest strength and most formidable foe.)

the way lyney protects is through self-sacrifice, granting peace in exchange for destruction of the self.

since the very beginning, lyney has grown used to seeing the world through the lens of a protector.

he recalls the old times where he and lynette loitered the streets in ragged clothes and the only refuge he could provide her with was his hand. it mattered not if he was freezing cold from the rain. . . as long as his little sister was protected, comforted by whatever warmth he had left - it's alright. to do that wasn't an option then, it was a necessity.

to sacrifice himself is a habit. it's easy to adopt but not at all easy to discard.

in lyney's eyes, burdens often seem as if they would be lighter upon his shoulders than they are on another's - but this is only wishful thinking. only meant to convince himself that pain shall eventually lose its harsh bite the more he bears it. “well, has it?” if asked, he cannot give an answer. regardless, that alone is enough of a justification for him because he can't bear the thought of doing anything else; to stand idly by, to be utterly useless.

if he has the means to protect others, why wouldn't he do so? even if he wears himself down to the bone, he’d do it again. akin to a bright flame lit in a hearth, lyney envelopes those near him in a blanket of warmth - and if the blaze threatens to flicker, he'd simply ignite a piece of himself to prevent it from diminishing into futile cinders. he won't let it happen.

(but little does he know that even cinders still serve a purpose. they exist as proof, a sign that his sacrifice has never been in vain.)

in return, lyney feels protected by simply knowing that you're happy (and your acknowledgement of his efforts).

let's call it an innate principle that belongs to a magician; he wants to see smiles on the faces of others. “a smile weighs much lighter for your face to carry compared to a frown, no?” he joked to you once, tapping gently on the corner of his lips with a grin. it was said with a light heart, but you knew he meant it deep down.

(he always does so much, only to ask for so little in return.)

you were not so cruel that you couldn't even grant him that, so you smiled. genuine and grateful. “. . .thank you, lyney,” you said. he fell quiet then. had the wind been knocked out of his lungs or had the world stopped spinning? he thought he saw stars in your eyes, but that couldn't possibly be true. the sun glaring down at him from behind the clouds above remained unmoved.

not like it mattered, anyway. his poor heart was far too occupied with you to care about the answer. “o-oh? you're welcome. . .” lyney blinked, multiple times, dazedly.

gratitude is not a foreign concept to him; he often receives it from an audience member, a lonely elder he briefly chatted with, a fellow member from the house of the hearth — so, just what makes it different now? perhaps, it's because he knows that you've beared witness to his heart that lies deeper within.

that you see right through him, that you're thanking him for who he truly is, although he no longer has a definite image of “self” from the countless white lies piling at his feet like a tower. yet he finds comfort in it, in the way you hold his sullied hands so kindly. he isn't wearing gloves this time. strange, lyney had never imagined transparency to be a feeling so benevolent and cathartic.

no matter what thoughts are buzzing in his head or what ache tugs on his body, they can pester him as much as they'd like - with one swift recall of your smile, lyney feels as if he can banish them even if momentarily. they'll come back sooner or later, he knows, but is it cowardly of him to find solace in that brief respite?

when lynette taps on his cheek to wake him up in the morning, when freminet knocks on his door to deliver something, when other siblings flock around him to welcome him home, or when you come to visit him after a long day — those worries disappear — but even if he already knows that they will make their inevitable return. . . perhaps, everything will be okay.

(it has to be, he tells himself.)

“did something happen yesterday?”

your lunch with a certain feline girl in front of hotel bouffes d'ete kickstarts with a simple question. but the abruptness of it all wipes away the content look on your face and replaces it with a frown.

the tea in your cup reflects your reflection as much as it does your perplexity. lynette lifts her own teacup to her lips, composed while you're lost in thought, confused.

“lyney went home with a wide smile on his face yesterday,” she elaborates, humming either at the tea or at the current matter she's recalling. perhaps, even both but you aren't sure yet. “while this wouldn't be an odd occurrence, i thought there must've been a special occasion to warrant a smile that wide.”

ah. the realization dawns on you in gentle waves. he said something that prompted a smile out of you yesterday — the exchange of a kind “thank you” from your side and a flustered “you're welcome” from his — not that smiling is a rarity around him, hardly, the one thing magicians do best is attract smiles.

your gaze drifts down to stare at nothing in particular. fond memories filled with the face of a familiar magician swims before your eyes. “hm. . . it must've meant a lot more to him than i expected,” you mumble to yourself. in your eyes, you'd think the look on your face represents the paradigm of nostalgia but in lynette's eyes, you look like a madman smiling to yourself so intensely.

“not you too,” she lets out a resigned sigh, placing down her teacup. “smiling to yourself like that. . .” she shakes her head in a disappointed manner, “you and lyney must've been rubbing off on each other these days.”

“maybe a bit too much,” lynette adds, but there is a ghost of a smile on her face this time around.

you can only smile sheepishly.

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated.

[melodic-haze]

alright think about this jealous sex with arlecchino. Maybe she’s been hanging out with columbina too much.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Thr briefest mention of petplay, rough sex ig, that's basically it 🤷‍♀️

Ohhhhmygod the way Arlecchino talks of her so very fondly too like it's VERY easy to be jealous I think. Like I'm not really a jealous or a possessive person but even then I'd give like a slight side eye

The Knave was just spending a BIT too much time with Columbina for your tastes. You ask if you could hang out w her, she tells you she has a prior engagement with the other Harbinger. You go to talk to her, she's already talking with Damselette. Frankly, she's acc taking the piss❗️❗️❗️

It just. Drives you up the FUCKING WALL but yk. "Do unto others what you want done to you" or smth like that idk the saying

"I-- I'm going to--"

"You are not doing anything unless I tell you to."

You feel her hands grip onto your hair as you practically abused her cunt with your fingers. If you weren't pinning her to the wall and holding her up, you were sure that as formidable as she was, her legs would've buckled down from the overwhelming stimulation and the lack of release whenever she reached her very peak.

(With the strength of her grip, youu also thanked archons above that despite everything, she was careful enough to not claw at your scalp. That wasn't the most important thing right now, though.)

"You know," you idly mused—taunted, even—as you curled your digits within her, "we could've been doing something better. We could've been having tea, tending to your children, having so much more fun than this. And yet what do you do?"

You pulled your fingers away, slick glistening and forming a faintly connecting line before snapping, and you hear a desperate whimper that you pointedly ignore, "You pass all that up for your fellow Harbinger."

"But she can't make you feel good like I do, can she?" You slapped her thigh harshly, to which you ignore her surprised gasp too—you knew she could handle much more anyway, "Nobody else can have you all pliant and breathless like this. Not her, not anyone."

Arlecchino actually makes a move to nod instead of standing there all dumb, "Only.. Only for you.. my love, I--"

"Only for me?"

"Yes..!"

Answering like an over-eager dog. Actually hilarious.

You stand up and press your fingers harshly inside of her, and just when she feels utter delight in tbe thought of you finally granting mercy on a sinner such as her?

"Move."

"..What?"

"You heard me, my love," the affectionate pet name overshadowed by your mocking tone, "if you want to get off, then move. Surely you can manage such a simple task, right?"

It's unsaid that you want her to move on her own to show her dedication to you...

But either she caught on or she was desperate for the feeling of you inside her, for she leaned her head and started to grind her pussy onto your offered hand.

Only you were allowed to command her like this.

Need to constantly alternate between edging her and overstimming her, both to such UNBEARABLE levels bc SURELY she can handle it 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Absolutely use her in ANY way you could think of; by this point she's a hole for you to use and vent your jealousy to, all while repeating some kinda mantra about how Columbina could never do the things you do to her

Remind her that only YOU could make her feel the things she does, remind her that only YOU could have her bend to your will, both literally and metaphorically. Doesn't matter to you how powerful she is!! Could be an eldrich horror and you don't gaf

At the end of the day, you have utterly corrupted her—trained her—in the ways that she (or anyone) had never imagined. You've absolutely ruined her for everyone else

You just. Need to remind her with a LOT of torture 🥰 break this supposed monster all over again, make her remember just who, exactly, tamed her 🥰🥰🥰

Whether it's by stuffing her with so many toys all in the lowest settings or absolutely filling her up over and over and over and OVER until all traces of the angel-like Harbinger is completely fucked out of her mind 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[reverie-starlight]

fluffy hawks drabble-turned-mini-fic because i love him. if you think the feather necklace trope is overused, this is probably not the place for you. also important to note: let’s say for the sake of my sanity that this takes place before seasons 5/6, okay? I know what's up in the manga, I'm just ignoring it to be happy :)

fem!reader, no physical descriptions aside from wearing dresses + enjoying it and reader could be perceived as chubby, but no explicit mentions of body type!! shopping for clothes is just hard and it’s briefly reflected on in this. lots of soft fluff. pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc) I just got a bunch of cute dresses and now I'm gonna make it hawks' problem. this is like. disgustingly soft and so incredibly self indulgent avert your eyes. please. very smiley and giggly. a bit suggestive at the end bc I have no self-control.

soft laughter and the sound of rustling sheets were the only noises heard in your shared bedroom that afternoon. surprisingly enough for both of you, keigo had finished his patrol early and caught you on the way up to your apartment. almost immediately after walking in and getting your shoes and coats off, he had grabbed you and sped off to your room, dropping you on the bed and launching an attack.

you were both so happy to have some extra time together that it boosted your energy immensely, resulting in a impromptu play fight. it wasn't very often that you got to be so playful anymore with things picking up for him at work. you were both still young, so when you got the chance to act like it, you definitely took it.

"keigo!" you shrieked as he pressed a slew of quick, light kisses over your face and down your neck. a ticklish sensation was left in their wake, even more so because of his facial hair. he just chuckled and rubbed his face against your skin to draw out more laughter. feathers flew around and brushed against your cheeks and other places he couldn't focus his attention on.

his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist to limit your movements, but you still squirmed around to try and get the upper hand. eventually, after a few more kisses to your chest and stomach, he loosened his grip to give you a fighting chance and you flipped on top of him, making sure not to hurt his wings, which ruffled in excitement.

"so what are you gonna do with me now, sweetheart?" he grinned up at you, eyes positively glowing with mirth.

you felt your own gaze go soft and cupped his face with your hands, rubbing your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. "I dunno," you murmured, keeping your voice low in volume and sweet in its delivery.

your eyes wandered over his features, admiring him in the golden rays of sun coming from your window. "you're so pretty, keigo..."

he went a little red but smiled softly. "that's my line, angel," and then he leaned up to steal another kiss from you.

eventually you both settled down, laying in bed together and talking about your days. keigo told you about having to chase down a bank robber and some purse snatchers, and how a little old lady asked for help getting her cat down from a tree. you snickered at the thought.

the atmosphere turned serene as you both laid there. you were close enough that your breaths mixed and your foreheads touched, his hands absentmindedly running over your soft skin and the curves of your body. "so how was your day?" he whispered.

"it was okay. I had a shorter day at work, so I went shopping and I got some new clothes..." you sat up and walked over to where the bags were discarded before he tossed you on the bed. "want to see them?"

he whined a little when you walked away but quickly sat up as well, nodding his head at the second part. "I'd never pass up the chance to see you trying on clothes, baby, who exactly do you take me for?"

you smiled and shook your head fondly. "alright, alright. sit tight, I'll be back," you said and headed to the connecting bathroom, ignoring his grumbling about how you were depriving him of getting to see the best part.

and when you came back out, in a pretty little sundress, twirling so he could get the full effect, he stared at you in awe.

he knew from past shopping trips and many teary conversations with you that finding clothes you actually felt confident in could be… difficult. of course he thought you looked amazing in everything, and if he had it his way, he’d buy every single outfit you even glanced at, but there was just something so alluring about seeing you happy and proud in clothes you felt good in.

“such a pretty girl…” he murmured to no one in particular. it looked a bit like he was in a trance as he took in your figure. attempting to hold back a shy smile from forming at his words, you looked down at the ground to keep yourself from getting too flustered.

he grinned and held his hand out for you once your eyes met his again. taking it, he gently pulled you towards him to stand in between his legs and rested his chin on your sternum, not once breaking eye contact. his hands moved to toy with the hem of your dress.

“I mean it, you’re absolutely stunning. the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on... my pretty girl.”

you couldn’t hold back your smile this time and he adored the way your lips curled upwards, how your eyes flitted around the room, staring at anything but him, clearly affected by his words.

he sent a feather out to tilt your chin back towards him and he was suddenly reminded of something.

“ah right- I have something for you,” he dug something out of his pocket and proudly presented you with what looked like a thin brown faux leather string…

with a bright red feather attached to it.

you gasped and took the item into your hands, closely inspecting it. you treated it with the utmost care, as if it were your most prized possession. it very well might’ve been.

the string had a clasp at the back to make it easier to put on and remove, and it looped around the... stem? bone? (you made a mental note to clarify with keigo later) of the feather multiple times. it was secured with a thin silver wire to ensure it wouldn’t slip out before the rope continued on to the other end of the hook.

he actually had one of his feathers turned into a necklace for you.

“keigo, I… this is incredible, oh my goodness!” you beamed at him and leaned down to properly hug him.

he was incredibly perceptive. of course he knew that all those times you had jokingly asked him about keeping one of his feathers with you were actually silent requests. even if you’d never outright ask him, he could tell you longed to have a piece of him with you. especially when he had to wipe your tears before a long mission and you stared longingly at his wings. he took pride in the fact that you found comfort in them.

who was he to deny the love of his life? what’s one feather from his arsenal gone, anyway? it was going towards the cause of making you happy, and most importantly, there was the added bonus of keeping you safe.

“here, let me put it on for you,” he said, gesturing for you to sit on his lap and hand him the necklace.

you got settled and he happily clasped the ends of the string together at the back of your neck. the bottom of the feather rested just above the neckline of your dress and you touched it gingerly.

as soon as it rested against your skin, he took control of it and ran it across your cheek, making you giggle and pull away a bit.

“thank you, keigo, I love it.” you turned around on his lap to face him and pressed your lips against his.

he hummed into the kiss and pulled away with a sly smile. “of course, baby. besides,” he toyed with one of the straps on your shoulder. “it goes with your new dress, don’t you think?”

you put your arms around his shoulders, gently stroking the arches of his wings and nodded in agreement. he placed his hands on the tops of your thighs and gently squeezed. “wanna see if it goes with my other dresses, too?”

“oh, absolutely. but..." he shifted a bit and pulled you closer, so that you were fully pressed against him. "I don't think I've appreciated this one enough... what do you think?" he slowly trailed his eyes up from your legs to meet yours.

you tilted your neck forward to rest your forehead against his. "I think that you'll find some of the other things I bought more interesting than a sundress, keigo."

his sly smile turned into something more eager and you laughed when he dramatically flopped backwards on the bed with a groan. "you're too good for me, angel, seriously. what did I ever do to deserve you?"

you offered him a shrug and a tiny smile of your own. "exist."

his eyes widened a fraction and you could tell that your words deeply affected him from the way they welled up. he cleared his throat to cover up any emotion in his voice and sat up again to cup your cheek, murmuring "sweet girl, you'd better hurry up and try on those other dresses, because if you're not off my lap in three seconds, I'm gonna pounce, and we're not leaving this room 'til we're both spent."

butterflies erupted within you and he watched fondly as you gasped and ran off to keep your little fashion show up and running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BONUS:

the following days after receiving his gift were... not surprising in the slightest.

you always knew when keigo was taking a break or in his office doing paperwork because he took every opportunity to bug you with his (your) feather.

every. single. one.

and you also knew before he even had the necklace made that if he were to ever give you one, this would likely happen. he was a menace, after all. part of his charm, he always said.

at first it was a bit embarrassing having to fight with a feather in front of your coworkers (who weren't aware you were dating a pro hero, so they probably thought you were some fangirl who bought faulty, cheap merch of his), but it very quickly became endearing.

cause yeah, if he knew you were going to be around people he'd make life difficult for you and then take all of your whines and complaints with a mischievous grin when he walked through the door, clearly lying when he said he'd take it down a notch.

but when he knew you were alone? or having a particularly stressful day? all you had to do was lightly tug on the necklace. upon your signal, he'd immediately take control of the feather and bring it up to caress your cheek, run along your neck or tap your nose.

honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way. you adored his playful side, and he knew he could get away with most things via feather necklace. even if it was only because you were too flustered to scold him for anything anymore by time he got back. complaints soon turned into requests for cuddles and wanting to return all the affection you received.

the feather necklace was a gift for you, sure, but it definitely benefitted him as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I edited this super quickly, so apologies if there's any mistakes! I'll find them eventually when I look back at this fic and end up contemplating my choices to post without properly editing :')

hope you enjoyed!! <3

[metamorphiacreations]

i want to talk about Jjajang Cookie and cultural disconnection

bc its not the focus of the story but its important for her as a character

hi welcome back to Meta rambling at 3am again akandn

The dish of jjajangmyeon or black bean sauce noodles (which sounds so fucking good, i really wanna try some) was brought to Korea in the late 19th century by way of Chinese migrant workers and stems from the Chinese dish, zhajiangmian or fried bean sauce noodles

i saw a post from @/walnutcookie where he mentioned that unlike most other cookies, Agent Jjajang doesnt know how to make her own dish, Cream Puff Cookie knows how to make cream puffs, Latte Cookie knows how to make lattes, even Tanghulu Cookie's whole thing is going back and forth between hot and cold baths because thats what you do to the fruit to make tanghulu, but Jjajang has never made jjajangmyeon until she starts running the noodle shop and even then she doesnt get the hang of it until Olive (who ill call Oli for this post) shows her how to make noodles.

this could be interpreted as Jjajang representing children or descendants of immigrants that have one way or another, lost touch with their culture. the chances of it meaning to be that deep are honestly 50/50 because on one hand the story is a hardass of a government agent does average life work to track down aliens but at the same time the story so far has constantly brought up going back to your roots and homestyle nostalgia. in fact the reason the restaurant blows up in the first place is because Jjajang learned how to play to the aliens' favor by making the noodles taste like home to them.

the franchise doesnt need to say it out loud because its so obvious but a cookie's main ingredient is integral to their living and for a lot of cookies, that ingredient is like 98% of their diet. so the fact that Jjajang up until this point had been eating instant noodles rather than proper jjajangmyeon probably wasnt good for her.

we can see that slowly but surely she starts becoming more happy and comfortable making noodles and even catches herself taking pride in her work, although she tries to bring herself back to reality afterwards. she is a secret agent, not a noodle chef! but i wonder if she realizes that she's finally able to find some connection to her ancestors. given the dishes history, it would make Jjajang canonically Chinese Korean but she talks like she never had the chance to partake in her Chinese heritage.

i myself am afro-dominican. 2nd gen american born or however you say it. my great-grandmother, grandmother and great aunts moved from DR to New York and without getting too personal, i dont feel confident in my knowledge about Dominican culture. i dont know about the history of my country, i dont know about our clothing styles or anything specific but i do know about our food! we eat it all the time! i love sancocho, i love mangú, i love platanos in general. food just makes me feel connected to DR even though ive never been (yet!)

call it projecting or whatever but i feel like Jjajang is the same way, shes happy making noodles because it brought her closer to her family roots and even if that wasnt the intention with her character, i still think its a great aspect and wonderful, quiet plotline.

[utilitycaster]

sort of an offshoot of that post about video game characters but I think I've mentioned before the third person v. first person split in D&D, namely, do you say "I attack it with my scimitar" or "Drizzt attacks with his scimitar". This is a well-known thing in TTRPGs, I'm sure you can find more intelligent discussion about it, but it's come up for me specifically in that a lot of old-school D&D players skew hard towards third person and often they are less interested in actual play, because they see D&D as a narrative tool. There's no self-inserts; they are narrating the exploits of a guy they made. And so the parasocial elements (which are not necessarily bad, it just depends, and that's another post) have no appeal, and even things like accents don't really.

I don't think third person vs. first person necessarily means "not a self insert vs. self insert." I switch between the two and often use first person. But I don't feel like any D&D character I've played is a self-insert. They have aspects of me, sure, because of course they do, I need to be able to play them and try to think like them, but I think in a game where death and failure are really possible and where you must collaborate and where your options are rather limited - because even in D&D, they are limited by the type of game it is - it's actually vital to separate yourself out from your character.

It comes down to something I've said a lot about so many things in fiction (but yeah, this does bleed into real life): are you able to accept a character who is not like you? Are you able to accept a character who might make wildly different choices than you would? Is your capacity to empathize or see a character as a person limited by them specifically hitting some demographic or philosophical targets you have constructed? Can you, even in a low risk, fictional environment, let yourself be different from how you are.

this seems very silly but I think I may have alluded to Justin McElroy talking about not being able to play fat characters in most games, and so he often just plays characters who do not look a thing like him. He often plays as a woman of color. (I don't recall where this came up? I think it might have been on an ancient polygon video or maybe commentary on one of the TAZ seasons? I'd love to find it again). And I think that's actually really great that this was his instinct. I don't want to diminish the importance of RPGs and TTRPGs for self-discovery; obviously it's been a place for many people to explore gender and sexuality, especially, and I do not want to take away the ability for someone to play as a woman in a game before you feel like you can live as a woman publicly in real life (and notably my issues with the BG3 and Inquisition player characters are not ones of gender/sex/race, ie, I think it is personality and background that might need to be more pre-determined). But yeah, if you cannot connect with characters who aren't like you that's a problem, and it does feel a little frustrating that we know that centering a self-insert OC type makes for a worse story and people still want that.

I've always been intrigued by pre-made sheets in TTRPGs where you are limited in some way, not in a dumb "oh my god you can't play a druid bc I'm a weird vindictive dude mad that your nature magic beats my weaponry" way but just as an exploration of having to walk a mile in other people's shoes and to be a person other than one that you created to exist within your comfort zone. Because a lot of people aren't Justin, and do play themselves or as close to it as they can, regardless of what is happening around them, and I think that is a mistake.