#and the level of light then and now is abt the same

[alyimoss]

just woke up after actually sleeping rather than taking a nap for the first time in days and when i tell you i had no idea what fucking dimension i was in for a good five minutes. yeah im serious.

[rinhaler]

I will kiss you and hold you and pet you and call you a good girl if you write a toji os abt him having a one nightstand with someone and when he’s undressing them he unzips their dress WITH HIS TEETHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA……….. anyways!!! :3

am i a good girl now :(((

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, soft dom!toji (maybe), alcohol consumption, squirting, fingering, face-sitting, vaginal sex, tit sucking, praise, slight degradation, reader passes out for a sec.

words: 2.4k

“Can I buy you a drink?” a handsome stranger asks you as you sit by your lonesome at the bar. You came here with your friend, who has since disappeared since locating her ex-boyfriend. And you suspect he won’t be an ex for much longer. The attention makes you giddy. His scar pulling as he smirks at you, a grin that grows wider when you nod. He pulls out his card and waits to flag down a bar tender. “I’m Toji, by the way.”

You introduce yourself and you curse yourself for how pathetic you must seem. It’s embarrassing, really, feeling so accomplished that a man deemed you worthy enough to talk to and buy a drink for. He’s like a model, possessing a wide build and tall figure. He could have any woman here if he wanted, you’re sure. And despite your inner monologue telling you to act coy, you’re sure you’re a bashful fool.

He orders you the same blue lagoon cocktail you’ve already had three of, and himself a lemonade.

“You don’t drink?” you ask him.

“Nah, it doesn’t really affect me.”

You shrug, slurping the ice cold cocktail through a metal straw you brought from home. He smirks at that, noting that you’re the type to prepare this much for what he’s sure is meant to be a casual night out. And he asks you questions about yourself that you’re so willing to answer. You ask him questions about himself that he answers too, though the responses are surface level and simple. The mystery only adds to his allure.

He's funny, effortlessly. Everything he says seems to make you giggle. You’re a cliché, too, twirling your hair as you hang on his every word. It’s a mix or attraction and intoxication. Is he really so interesting and funny or are you just wet and transfixed by his looks?

Your laughter dies out when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s your friend, coming to say goodbye. She points at her ex and tells you she’s leaving with him.

So much for girl code.

Though she does offer you to hop in the taxi with them so you can go home. But you don’t want to leave Toji. You want to keep making a lovesick fool of yourself for him and maybe see where the night takes you. So she waves and you focus on the older looking man beside you. He licks his lips, his scar glistening under the everchanging technicolour lights flooding the club.

“Wanna get going, gorgeous?” he asks, leaning over to speak into your ear. The rough gravel to his voice rushing straight to your pulsing cunt. You shouldn’t, really, should you? It’s not smart to go home with guys you’ve never met. You don’t know him or his intentions, he could be plying you with alcohol to get you stupid enough to kill you.

“Mhmm.” you nod, dumbly, consequences be damned. If you die, you’ll die by the hand of a man so beautiful you’d think an angel would cry at his presence. He takes your hand, leading you outside and hailing a cab. You at least have the sense to go to your place, knowing your cousin lives a few doors down and will surely here if things go wrong.

He kisses you deeply in the back of the cab, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes your plush thigh. You moan, lewdly, when he tells you to stick out your tongue and he sucks it before licking it with his own. Tongues tangling as he continues to squeeze and knead your malleable flesh.

“Head on up, I’ll follow you.” he tells you as he pulls out his wallet. You nod, agreeing, whispering your apartment number before clambering out of the car. The chill of the 2am air bites at your skin, and you hurry to the security door. You pull the key from your purse and rush inside.

Toji takes his time paying the driver, grunting as he puts his wallet away and slides out of his side of the car. He slowly skulks to the entrance, smiling when he realises you remembered to leave the latch for him to get inside. He sees a crowd gathered by the elevator and opts to take the stairs instead.

He smirks, gleefully, when he sees you waiting by the front door.

“Watcha doin’, gorgeous?” he wonders.

“Waiting for you.” you confess, looking down at your feet awkwardly as shame surges through your body.

He approaches, slowly. But before you know it you’re looking up at him and caged between his body and your front door. His hands rest against the frame as he studies your blown eyes and nervous face.

“Somethin’ tells me you’ve never had a one night stand before,” he smiles, scar pulling deliciously once again. You can barely form a thought unable to break yourself from the hypnotising mark on his lip. “Unlock the door.”

“I already did…” you gulp, nervously, still unable to tear your eyes away from his.

He likes your answer, picking you up so that your legs wrap around his waist and he lets himself into your home. Your lips lock and tongues clash as he controls the kiss, but your eagerness gets the better of you. Your hips rutting and soft moans pour from you as you portray yourself as a desperate slut for his benefit.

You pout, a little defeated, as he sets you back down. Though the disappoint dies an instantaneous death as he spins you around so your back is to him, pushing you into the wall by your entryway.

“Have you fucked a stranger before, princess?” he asks, brushing your hair from your shoulder and whispering devilishly into your ear. You shake your head, pathetic strings of ‘no!’ spilling from your lips as his fingers explore under your dress and pinch your ass. You bite your lip as you feel his heavy fingers prod at your drippy panties. He huffs out a laugh when he realises how wet you are. “Allllll of this jus’ for me? You shouldn’t have, darlin’.”

“B-Been wet… since you asked if I wanted a drink…” you tell him, giggling a little and hiding your face against the wall.

“No no no…” he objects, tugging your hair softly to draw you out. “Wanna see you, wanna see how you look when I ruin you.” you feel your body flush with heat at his words, turning your head to the side so he can see you again. You place your palms against the wall to brace yourself, not expecting him to pull your panties down your legs from under your dress.

He relishes in how you can barely keep your eyes open as he sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt and your panties drop to the ground. You bite your inner cheek, though it does little to keep you quiet as he curls his fingers against your spongy insides.

“Oh fuck.” you gasp, ashamed that you might cum after a few pathetic pumps of his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel right. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t feel like you usually do when you’re close to cumming. “W-Wait.” you move your head and try to close your legs.

“Sh.” he stops you, kicking your ankles to keep your legs open. He holds your head against the wall with his forearm, his breathing heavy in your ear. You shudder when he kisses against it, chuckling quietly when he feels your pussy begin to clench. “Stop clenching, push. It’ll feel good, promise… push against me.” he commands.

You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. Push your body? No, he said stop clenching. You’re trying to keep him inside, keep the feeling inside. But he repeats it. Push. And like he’s the master of your cunt, it listens.

“Good girl, baby…” he praises you as he notes the pressure switch from your tender hole. You moan, and he coos. Faux sympathy as he fucks you dumb on his thick digits.

“Toji! Ngh—!” you moan. Clear liquid jets from your pussy, dripping down your thighs and soaking your panties and the floor beneath. He doesn’t let up, either, still battering his fingers against your g-spot.

“There you go, princess. Good fuckin’ girl… so good for me darlin’.” he moans, too, getting off on your pleasure and the striking realisation that you’ve never squirted before. He’s proud of himself, and he’s proud of you. “Fuckin’ soaked your pretty panties, sweetheart. Dirty little girl…” he teases.

You don’t have the energy to respond, already spent from cumming in such an alien way. He kisses your shoulder as your legs continue to shake. Any logic from the thought of telling him to stop fingering you dissipates when you think that he can you make you cum like that again.

He feels his hardened cock over his jeans as he looks down at the puddle beneath you. Still pumping his fingers against your sweet spot until your eyes roll over white. He can’t take it anymore. The unrelenting inner voice telling him to touch himself. He thinks he might die if he doesn’t stroke his length, even for a minute.

“Don’t move.” he orders.

You stay still, unsure of what he’s doing. Though you whimper as you feel his body press against yours. His head sinks to the top of your dress, and you just about cum again when you realise he’s biting down on the metal zipper, pulling it down with his teeth as exposing your bare back.

The black mini dress falls to the ground into the puddle of your lewdness and your drenched underwear.

“Good girl, stay there.”

He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it aside down the hallway, only to be seen by the end of this dalliance. You hear him kick off his shoes and quickly throws away his socks. Eagerly, his pants follow, as do his underwear. He’s just as naked as you, now. And you choke out a breath as you hear him drop to his knees, licking up the mess on your thighs and pussy. But he turns around, sitting on his ass with his back against the wall, without a care for the wetness beneath. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your cunt towards his face.

“Sit.” he instructs.

You do, without pause, moaning boisterously as he sucks at your clit and covers his face in your sweetness. One arm remains hooked around thigh while the other releases, hand in search of his aching length. He plays with himself, alternating between lazy strokes and passionate ones. The taste of your cunt makes him dizzy, unable to believe how much slick you’re producing as he relentlessly feasts on your flesh.

“F-fuck, Toji… finger me, please.” you beg. He’s leaking like crazy, and thinks your request might have come at the perfect time. He lets himself go in favour of pleasuring you, the sound of your sticky cunt squelching with each press throughout your eerie apartment. Neither of you had even found time to turn on a light, the only thing illuminating the room is the filtering light sneaking in through the cracks of your front door. “G’na cum, a-again… holy— s-shit.” you moan.

It spurs him on, maintaining all of his ministrations as he tries to coax your second orgasm out of you. He grunts, loudly, against your sodden folds as you squirt again. His face and hair doused with your release as he doesn’t dare pull away. The sadistic desire to prolong your ecstasy is fuelling him to keep going. He feels like he might cum untouched as he feels your cum cover him.

Your legs give, his burly arms hook around your thighs again in a bid to keep you stable. But his hands wander, impatiently. Fingers grip into your waist as he pulls you away from the wall.

He helps you down, hovering you above his longing cock as he guides it to your spent hole.

“I don’t have any condoms.” he tells you.

“Don’t care—” you assure him, wriggling your hips eagerly. “’m on the pill.”

“Greedy girl,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his cock. You want to scream from the stretch but you manage to refrain. He sets a ruthless pace, forcing you to accommodate to it quickly. “Been so sweet for me, darlin’. Gonna be nice ‘n do all the work for ya, okay? Say thank you.”

“T-Thank you! Thank you.” you babble nonsensically.

His knees are bent as he fucks up into your abused hole, the velocity propelling you forward. Your fingers clutch onto his shoulders for dear life as he takes advantage of your body being in such close proximity to his mouth. He sucks your tits, eliciting a dreamy moan from you. The gorgeous sounds you make for him have his cock drooling inside of your unprotected walls.

It's so sorrowful, really, thinking about how pathetic you both are. He seemed so calm and collected and yet neither of you could even make it through the hallway of your apartment before you were both stripped bare. You thought you’d be fucking comfortably on your bed. But here you are, being fucking destroyed by his monstrously large cock on the wooden, soaking, hallway floor.

“Gonna cum, baby.” he breathes against your spit soaked tits. The admission makes you cream, clenching around his thick, veiny cock as you brace yourself. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re gonna cum again. Can feel it, little cock slut. No one’ll fuck you like this again, y’know.”

“Ah- aaaah—!” is all you can say as a lesser stream of liquid shoots from you once more. The internal bliss you feel makes you pass out momentarily. But you come around quick enough to feel your untainted insides become stained with his white, creamy warmth.

He groans, deeply, bouncing you up and down his length. He wishes there was a light on to see the creamy ring and the messy puddle you’ve created together.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” he tells you, grasping the crown of your head with his palm to guide you into a sloppy kiss. He manages to stand up whilst keeping himself slotted comfortably inside of you. You giggle as you guide him to the nearest light switch, and both of you look down at the mess you’ve made. Shame builds once again and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Awe, pretty girl made a dirty little mess f’me.” he teases you.

“Stop! ‘m so embarrassed!” you tell him, the sentence muffled as you talk into his skin.

“S’okay, rest up.” he tells you, stroking your back soothingly. “Give me a tour, wanna see the next place we can make a mess of.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[thehappynewzo]

SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS🔥❤️

I just want to give a heads up that I am no professional astrologer.. although it's funny cuz you see most users saying this here and their predictions seem pretty professional in the end no? Lol. Anyways, as I was saying, please don't plagiarise my content..but wait, no, I don't really have a problem actually cause astrology is astrology and if you wanna use it for your posts, fine...feel free to...I have no issue so please widen your knowledge and share it with others. Okay, I think it's best i begin now.

Also, I'll be talking about stuff that are meant only for adult eyes lol😂 so dear minor watching, i understand how curiosity fuels your engine but please don't interact with this, otherwise curiosity will also begin to kill minors along with cats.😂😂

If something here does not relate with your experience, please keep in mind that astrology is an insanely vast but such a beautiful topic so this varies based on other aspects and placements too.

☀️Sun in the 8th house🏠 -

•The sun person makes the house persons insecurities and past wounds exposed due the sun persons brightness, because of this it seems like the sun person hurts the house person unintentionally.

•The house person gets triggered a lot with certain actions of the sun person but keep in mind, the sun person has no intention of triggering the house person.

•These are the triggers that's developed because of the house persons past and it gets exposed to the sun's light.

•No matter how much the house person tries to stop those triggers, it won't stop in the beginning of the connection.

•The sun person might want to explore the house persons deepest parts that they hide from the world and as the dynamic gets closer to eachother in the connection, the sun persons heat either worsens the wounds or helps heal the house person heal them.

•The sun person pays a lot of attention to the house persons deepest wounds and desires.

•They notice every little detail of the house persons insecurities but you'll be happy to know that the sun person usually finds brightness in all your darkest parts.

•The house person will be someone who provides them a shadey place to relax from their own ego and shine. A place for them to dig deeper than surface level.

•The house person gets obsessed completely with their entire soul towards the sun person. It's usually possible that the house person felt an instant pull to the sun person on their first meeting.

•Here, usually along with the above points, manifests in such a way where the sun person wants the house person to be as open and comfortable with them as possible but the house person is too afraid to expose their sensitive hidden parts to the sun person.

8th house synastry -

•i feel, according to my studies and observations that whatever planet sits in the 8th house becomes like a two sided coin or a opposite sort of thinking here most of the time.

•Usually the planet person thinks and feels some way about the house person but the house person feels like the planet person thinks the complete opposite of what the planet person actually thinks (lol I hope it made sense) and vice versa.

•It's like both the house person and the planet person may have similar feelings about eachother (planets depend as it can change this) but they both think that the other doesn't feel the same way about them.

• EX: VENUS in the 8th house - both of them (planet person and house person) love eachothers beauty and insecurities of eachother but they are insecure that the other person does not like it or will not like it sooner or later.

ANOTHER EX: SUN in the 8th house - both of them (planet person and house person) wants the other to open up to them but they think the other person does not want to or will not support them or understand them. Both of them want to open up abt their insecurities but they both are afraid and hence take a long time to open up but in the beginning are closed off.

Btw, I'll be making a list of Eros in the houses and signs in synastry soon.

Eros (433) in 3rd house : Firstly, Eros is your turn ons. The Eros person is turned on / finds the house person voice very attractive. Also the house persons hands, how the house person speaks and their mind.

Eros (433) in 7th house : The Eros person is turned on / finds the house persons feminity attractive. Even the house persons ass lol. If the house person is a woman, then the Eros person finds her feminine body very beautiful.

Kiss (8267) in the 4rth house :

•the house person can be comforted easily by the kisses of the kiss person.

•the kiss person's kisses feels like home for the house person.

•soft loving kisses.

•slow comforting kisses.

•The kiss person can love to kiss the house person's chest.

Kiss (8267) in the 9th house :

• the house person gets very hyped up and excited when the kiss person kisses them.

•the house person feels protected and safe everytime the kiss person kisses them.

•since this is Jupiter's house, the house person may want more and more of the kiss person's kisses. They may also get a lot of kisses from the kiss person. The kiss person may have the urge to kiss the house person whenever they're around around them since Jupiter expands whatever he touches. This holds true if the house person's Jupiter is in conjunct with the kiss persons kiss Asteroid.

•the kiss person can give the house person kisses out of nowhere too.

Vesta (4) is an asteroid that indicates what our soul is most devoted towards, where you're most dedicated, where you invest a lot of your energy. The conjunctions can make this asteroid very prominent in synastry.

= If you want to know if you are going to invest a lot of energy in a connection, check if Vesta conjuncts any of your inner planets, especially big 3 (ascendant, sun, moon) and ESPECIALLY JUPITER.

= Which planet Vesta conjuncts indicates the kind of dedication or the areas in which you or the other person is dedicated towards in the connection.

= EXAMPLE 1 :

•Vesta conjunct Jupiter = Vesta person is dedication to guide and protect the Jupiter person.

•This conjunction makes the Vesta person extremely, I mean superly duperly extremely excessively devote all the energy they have in them towards the Jupiter person.

•The Vesta person surrenders and devotes themselves to Jupiter person as if the Jupiter person were a god.

= EXAMPLE 2 :

•Vesta conjunct Venus = the Vesta person has a romantic dedication towards the Venus person.

•The Vesta person is very much dedicated to showing the Venus person their love.

•This is a 100% loyalty placement in any romantic relationship. Other aspects matter too though but this tops the loyalty placement among many other.

• The Vesta person is usually the one very loyal in this connection but the Venus person loves the dedication that the Vesta person has towards them and this becomes the Venus person's fuel for loving the vesta person in return.

•The Vesta person is devoted romantically towards the Venus person.

= EXAMPLE 3 :

• Vesta conjunct Sun = the Vesta person has an overall dedication towards the sun person.

• This literally means that the Vesta person is dedicated to the sun persons soul.

= EXAMPLE 4 :

This time I'll give an example of Vesta seated in _______ house.

• Vesta seated in the 8th house = The Vesta person has such a deep leveled soul digging devotion towards the house person, especially if Vesta conjuncts any planet here (esp. big 3).

Yay! Special asteroid mention time!!

Vesta ☌ child (4580) -

The Asteroid Child is youthfulness, where your inner child never dies, where you feel a little lost, where you feel like a child.

•The Vesta persons devotion is aimed at making the child person feel like a child.

•The Vesta person invests HUGE amounts of their energy just to make the child person laugh like a child, smile like a child and feel like a child.

•The Vesta person is also devoted to make the child person's inner child never die, to keep their inner child alive.

•The child person can make the Vesta person feel lost at times.

•The child person is lost when it comes to the Vesta persons devotion towards them, especially if Vesta is also ☌ (conjunct) Sun/Jupiter.

•The child person wonders why the Vesta person is so devoted towards them.

That's all for today my dear readers with amazingly curious minds. I hope you all enjoyed reading this post today and I hope I made somebody smile! Let me know in the comments if anything resonated and if you'd like me to cover anything in astrology!! Love you all so much ! Bye bye for now! Take care, be happy and healthy!😊❤️

Asteroids mentioned above : 433,8267,4,4580

[dorotheado]

OK NOW THAT IM ALIVE AND MY BRAIN IS WORKING i want to comment on some things that i noticed at the eras tour that i think are super cool & underrated

stage effects during blank space where she looks like a magazine. all the stage versions doing the same choreo. sooo cool

during lwymmd when the lights in the crowd make a literal spinning cube !!!! what !!!!! how do they do it!!!!!

the way that at the end of the man when she's ascended to the highest level, the entire structure lowers into the stage and everything is just a little more accessible. nice.

the way the trees grow on stage for evermore? thats funky

also the way the torch light in marjorie makes the stadium soooo well lit and suddenly you can see everything? thats crazy

the reputation transition does a LOT for the hype like wow!!! its not just the set its also the transition!!!!

delicate stage has been talked abt many times but its just sooooo good!!!!!!!

the way the speak now set is the best set in the show and enchanted isnt even my fav from speak now.... screaming it in a stadium changed it for me!!!!!

the red set is soooo hyped jaime was right

once again have to say: 'tell him he's dreaming' fixed me!!!!!!! thank u kam!!!!!

during august the fucking light up bracelets make the most gorgeous colours i s2g i tried to film it every time but couldnt get the brightness to work for me hahahhaa

the hand up at the end of tlgad! such cute choreo for that whole song but i love that last little flick hehe

obsessed w bad blood tbh it was soooo fun to sing

mastermind bracelets were sooo fun (also mastermind choreo but that was obvious its just ao good)

its also crazy how much bejeweled grew on me from seeing it live

THE TODDLER WALK IN ANTI HERO IN THE LAST CHORUS WHERE SHE SWINGS HER HANDS!!!!!!!! soooo underrated i love it.

[throwaway-yandere]

𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒐𝒗𝒐 (Yandere!Dainsleif/Reader)

a/n: I love Dainsleif with every fiber of my being, do you guys know that? Anyways, just like all Dain-fics, this one has illustrations (I hope they give Fairytale book vibes). I’d like to thank @meimeimeirin cuz this was an idea we were laughing abt at 4am and somehow I made something out of it HAHA.

Unreliable Synopsis: “Fairytale worlds follow fairytale laws. There’s always a protagonist burdened with impossible tasks who will experience the rule of three, witness transformations, find talking animals, and learn the power of kept promises. So, before you embark on your journey, "princess" (Y/n), have you heard of the Ugly Duckling’s tale?” 

CW: light yandere themes, fairytale!au just for the hell of it. HURT/NO COMFORT. Late/Advanced happy birthday, Dainsleif.

"The destined knight is late," the great dragon clicked his tongue. One would expect that an inferior creature such as an ugly duckling would quake and shrink while perched on the Dragon King's hand. But their expression was nothing short of serene. There is a veneer of calm that the great Dragon Ongri did not overlook. 

The "duckling" had the eyes of an old gentleman with worldly disinterests. 

He was longing for death.

𝕺nce upon a time, there was an ugly duckling who was abandoned by both their siblings and mother. Oftentimes, he was pecked by his peers, sneered into thinking his big head and scarred face. were both a reason for his survival and misery all the same. The ugly duckling thought himself unloveable no matter where he went. The small waters he was born in had no room for miscreation, and when he traveled to an elderly's house elsewhere, the chickens thought him useless and undesirable. Normally, the story would've been a happier bedtime story if he had gone to meet the Royal birds and begged for them to end his life. Maybe then, he would've realized that he had not been a duck but a swan all along. But alas, our poor ugly "duckling" found his feet at the hands of the great Dragon King- Ongri's mercy.

"Will you kill me?" The ugly duckling asked calmly. "You need to release your anger, and I can be but one of many casualties."

"I am not a creature of impulse."

The divine dragon scowled. "After Bars' and Fein' deaths, the concept that this realm dubs as Time and Moments is now under my jurisdiction. I've no use for wasted breaths."

As it happens, the dragon was in a troubling situation. There is an immediate need for a substitute. Sensing the urgency of fate's call, Ongri unleashed an ancient incantation. Feathers singed into flesh, wings clipped into arms, and in a burst of radiant light, the "ugly duckling" was reborn as a human knight. His body had scar-like spots from the Divine Dragon infusing him with magic, albeit the metamorphosis was far from flawless. Even as a human, he was imperfect. Mysterious dark blue "burn lines" traced his neck and arms. With the new human's eyes still closed, the dragon spoke to him, the last for a long time: "Forget your past and this whole affair." He commanded. "Go, find and protect your princess."

It mattered not if this was the last breath Ongri would tell him, besides…

When a god applies a curse, it takes effect at a higher level of reality than the person themselves.

“(Y/n)…”

“It’s me, Dainsleif… Can you… still remember my voice?”

“…”

“I… understand that once a person reaches this stage of the curse, their senses get muted. The remnants of those who once dwelled here must have been the catalyst of your ailments worsening..”

“… I’m sorry. I am incredibly sorry that I found you at such a later time. It did not occur to me that you would be here in the Chasm.”

“In our next fairy tale, I’ll—”

“No… I cannot subject you to any more empty promises… But know this:”

“I will keep you safe from now on.”

“So, do not leave my side ever again.”

And the new knight opened his eyes.

Memories of the dragon vanished from his mind. He was now a being of larger flesh and bones without recollections of his past. Should another human take his shoes, they would know that it was a fresh awakening. His first breath tasted like rich champagnes. Golden. Even the sun shone in such resplendent light that made the world seemingly revolve around him.

His legs wobbled. Sliding onto the grassy area, he caught a sight of his hair. Blonde. Like hay— they were golden threads silkily strewn about. He soon noticed that the rest of his complexion was a light pinkish-hued color, as did the hands that prevented his head from taking a serious fall.

The reborn “ugly duckling” may have forgotten why, but he felt alienated from his own body. And he has the Divine Dragon to thank for his new vessel and plain armor.

“Help! Someone, HELP!!!”

His ears perked up. It was a scream with a fervor of a “damsel in distress”. Vent clamor as she may with her whole throat, nothing would come out of it.

But fate will not allow this untimely demise. Quick on his new feet, the new knight dashed towards the sound. No cavalry— just a single determined mind. After running for some time, the unnamed knight did not come across any souls. 

That is, until he found the young maiden he was “fated” to save. She was on the ground, clinging into her wrist as though she burned her hand. In the ground laid an iron sword, begging to be drawn.

At the sight of the wild animal bearing down on her with frightening speed, the “knight” took her weapon and charged towards the scene, raising it in front of the menacing beast. He gazed at the bear that towered over him, displaying its slobbery maw and long, pointed claws. The untamed creature snarled and dropped to strike. 

Perhaps the Divine Dragon saw his noble pursuits, perhaps he was naturally gifted in combat, but the bear was unable to rake the man’s body. Miraculous it was that not a single nasty laceration was left on his person. He lacked the strength to take it down in one fell swoop, but the speed he had made up for it. Like swans that swerved through the wind and flow of water, he dodged all its attacks. With a few strikes from his blade, the bear falls...

He breathed out, shaking in his boots though he tried not to show it. Straightening his body, he met the maiden’s gaze. His blue eyes met hers in a piercing gaze, nearly taunting her as his new opponent. The young lady exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

“T-Thank… you…”

Subconsciously, he circled the shoulder that recklessly swung the sword around. The new “knight” tilted his head. For what? He wished to ask, but words did not come out.

“For saving me, of course.”

The maiden gracefully stood. Her garments had lost some of their value due to the soil and dirt, but she herself was not affected in the same way. She exuded a fierceness that suggested anyone who ventured to hurt her would be receiving more than they bargained for. Instead of tucking her hair to the back, she pulled them forward, hiding her ears.

“Do allow me to introduce myself, kind knight.” She cleared her throat softly. “You may call me Princess (F/n), daughter of King Regan and current crown princess— heir to the throne upon the late Prince Pierre’s demise. May I know your name?”

…

… Silence…

The princess tilted her head. 

"... Does my savior have a name?"

"... Name?"

The young man paused.

He couldn't remember his name. In actuality, he had absolutely no memory of anything. His mind was a bottomless pit with little to no air. With wide eyes, his hand moved slowly to around his neck. The act of conjuring up his supposed name left him terrified for reasons unbeknownst to him.

Does he… not have a name?

“... You must be joking.” The princess deadpanned. “How can one not have a name? Were you not baptized under the Divine Dragon’s light?”

She sounded incredibly upset by this fact. Whatever she ranted on about, it must be a human tradition. 

“Do you not know how important names are—” The princess sighed, “Never mind. I shall assume you are one of those orphaned folks. Besides, if what you say is true, bestowing you a new name is a power much more potent.”

“I… want a name.” The man spoke up rather shyly, voice almost inaudbile.

"I know, I know… Huh, I usually take names rather than gifting them," the princess chuckled. She seemed wholly aware of his dilemma. "Hmm… Let me see…"

She examined his features closely. He was dressed in the traditional knightly fashion, albeit slightly altered. The holy kingdom's knights, of course, never donned masks—especially not half of one. He was strange, but there was an innocent genuineness about him. The blonde man doesn't have a polished appearance. He looked like a lost duckling.

It was rude to stare at the peculiar blue wounds on his face far too long so the princess’ eyes trailed above his hair.

"Leaf…" She pointed upward. "Leaf."

The knight blinked.

What a peculiar sounding name.

"Understood." He nodded and bowed politely. "I shall now be referred to as Leaf."

"No, I meant—" The princess cut herself off and chuckled. "Oh, well. I meant the leaf on one's head. But certainly the name Leaf does suit you fine."

“Do place your iron sword away, Leaf.” She added, cringing. “It is unbecoming of a knight to point a sword to their princess.”

“May… May I ask as to why you were attacked by a bear?”

“Quite bold of you to inquire a royal about a recent assassination attempt,” she humored him with a smile. He safely assumed she would not enact punishment for his assertiveness. “If you must satiate your curiosity, it is exactly that. An assassination attempt. They believed since my brother had fallen so easily, I myself must be an easy game since I adore wandering around the forest.”

“And they seem to be right,” Leaf muttered, wittily referring to the incident prior that arranged this fated meeting.

“Oh?” She scoffed, her polite smile remaining intact. “You’ve quite the tongue. Are you from the valleys?”

“I do not know.”

She squinted.

“Hmm, I see.” The princess exhaled and shook her head disapprovingly. “Then I am to presume that I should also use my wits to cleverly weave a background for you much like your name, Leaf?”

“You wish for me to serve you, that I can tell, and for that to happen I would need your equal assistance,” Leaf spoke solemnly. “I do not recall anything of my past, but you can always make one for me.”

Leaf knelt in front of her. Silence ensued.

“You are deadly calm for a man who wished his history be erased…” The princess muttered.

Leaf was a strange man indeed. He was perceptive, yet he spoke like fate’s pawn. That is to say, the princess noticed he only ever says the truth. His countenance conveyed little desire to adopt rebellious ideologies. To be honest, there was nothing in those contrivedly starry eyes. It was bare. A false sky. 

It almost made the princess worry for his lack of self-preservation had she not been the same. Lies were always at her hands’ disposal, and she greatly hoped it was not what her heart would contain in her last pages. She didn’t wish for a life of deceit. The princess's survival solely comes from her ability to “doublespeak”.

“I see your promise. You are made of self-mettle. Although your blunt tongue may mar your fortunes sooner before you could gaze upon His Majesty, I wish to prescribe you with new duties.”

She took a deep breath.

“This directive shall not be withdrawn in the name of the Divine Dragon. Leaf, a young knight from the Valley of Gaciea who will shortly be appointed retainer to the Royal Highness, Princess (F/n), kneels before me. Until the end of time, he shall be my sword, and I will be his master. Will you keep your word and uphold the oath— the promise?”

“I will.”

Not a moment did he hesitate. Not for a second did he think there was more to life than this. It was nearly bitter. His life sounded so simple to her tongue.

But it was a contract nonetheless. 

A promise that must be fulfilled.

“I find myself stirred in restless days without you my by side. You haunted me so diligently this past 500 or so years.”

“Humor me, won’t you… my b-beloved?”

“Why have you hid away from me? Why did I have to find you in this state? Furred and mute. Didn’t you take a breath to think about how much your pain would mean a greater weight for me? Have you not a second thought about how much it pains me to see you like this— bearing the fangs of the abyss and the claws of the cursed…?”

“The only sigh of relief I can release is that at least in this new sky, Ongri— no, he calls himself Zhongli these days— would get between us no more.”

“This new fairy tale… For how long do you expect me to keep this promise, (Y/n)? How many more stories must we get through for us to reach a happy ending?”

“Please… I’m begging you… Say something!!!”

“…”

“… Speak… Please… Anything…”

“Tell me about our past rendezvous. Seduce me with your musings. Anything… can't you try, just for this special day?”

“Please… don’t turn your mask away from me…”

“Do you find time to flow as quick as the waters by the stream? I am inclined to believe this sentiment. I find it astonishing that we’ve spent eleven or so moonshines joined at a hip. Time ages us but we are none the wiser.”

Leaf grunted, heaving Princess (F/n)’s inventory as she spoke. He didn’t seem distressed by the weight and his princess appeared not at all troubled as well. At least, that what it seemed on the surface. Royals must make their superiority known. Leaf knew (F/n) wanted to also carry some of the bags, but he refused.

There were several notions Leaf refused that noon. When (F/n) entertained the thought of going out as herself and by herself, he disapproved with haste. Leaf had to know where she’s going, who she was going with, what she’s going to wear— just about everything. His voice alone overwhelmed the princess enough that you’d mistake him for the king. The knight practically ordered what she would wear and what route she’d have to take if she wished to see the ongoing festival. 

Being herself was a safety hazard and being alone by herself was a death wish.

To his eyes, at least. He had always been a twinge too overprotective.

It was a hectic morning with a picture-perfect, almost cliche scene of bustling streets and frolicking kids on a medieval setting. While children would swerve around adults' legs to avoid getting tagged, adults walked slowly to hear each gossip. One kid had nearly hit the princess herself, but Leaf would not allow it.

Leaf pulled (F/n) away by putting an arm over her waist. The smell of her sweet perfume surprised him. Her smell reminded him of the forest. For the knight who professed to guard her innocence, her warm body lightly pressed against his was a fleeting but almost immoral moment. He set her down slowly, gasping quietly. The princess chose not to draw attention to the troubled expression on her most reliable retainer.

It was better not to acknowledge his growing romantic interests.

To her, he is only a sword.

Even if he is a friend, at the end of the day, he’s only a weapon to be used.

The princess quickly pulled the cape down further to hide her face— mostly her ears. For reasons unknown to him, she seemed to find that part of herself worthy of great insecurity.

He cleared his throat, face dusted in a pink hue.

“You say that time affects you, but you haven’t aged a day.”

The princess laughed.

“Finally, a compliment from a man as stoic as you? Oh, what a day to rejoice!”

Leaf shook his head with a small smile.

“I had given you one on several occasions.”

“That may be true, but random bouts of flattery from you are scarce.” The princess hummed. “I vaguely recall how getting anything out of you was like trying to get a frozen little duckling to quack. Who am I? Your mother duck?”

The smirk on his face was quick, but (F/n) definitely saw it.

Several staff once questioned Leaf’s ability to speak. Many, including (F/n)’s father, were convinced he was mute. Everyone in the castle knew of the princess’s peculiar tastes and thought Leaf’s recruitment was a mere byproduct. His masked appearance and strange scars added more fuel to those rumors. When Leaf defended (F/n) from another assassination attempt in front of the king and inquired about her condition, King Regan nearly toppled from where he stood. 

After being bombarded with questions, Leaf merely said he refrained from speaking since he saw no use if he wasn't talking to the princess herself. (F/n) still finds it absurd that she has to give orders for him to talk to other people.

For Leaf, it was simple: he just didn’t see the point of forming other interpersonal relationships.

(F/n) was the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Only her.

Only she is worthy to serve and protect.

“You truly are like a little duckling following his mother’s tail,” Princess (F/n) sighed. “But you have vastly improved in our time together. That, I can commend.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Leaf laughed softly, mocking her tone in his signature subtle way. “Oh, what a day to rejoice.”

She playfully gave him an elbow nudge. “Do not copy me, Leaf.”

“My apologies.”

Princess (F/n) was meandering around because the harvest festival was drawing closer. With her own eyes, the princess intended to see how her people were faring. Rarely did she change into a more "common" outfit and styled her hair with simplicity. Though, if you were to ask Leaf, seeing her in her most simple clothes made her far more youthful than the garbs and crown that wrinkles her smile to a frown.

“Madame, would you be interested in buying your lover here a brooch?”

Both of them stilled as a merchant called out. The undercover royal pointed to herself.

“Yes, yes, of course I’m talking to you, gorgeous!” The merchant grinned. He had silver hair that slightly covered one of his blue eyes. “Do you want matching rings instead? We’re selling for fifty percent off!”

Leaf’s gaze was stern. Despite his reservations, he knew the merchant as Alfstan, another young knight who hailed from a family of vendors. Two moonshines ago, Leaf was (forcefully) placed on training duty and had the fortune of mentoring this aspiring knight. 

Mind you— nothing was particularly dubious of his wares. Leaf just simply despised having another man brazenly take your attention away. He did not find their previous exchanges pleasant. Not when Alfstan often joked about replacing his position one day.

What hubris.

While he busied himself glaring at the poor man, the princess awkwardly laughed and dismissively waved a hand. “Oh, no, he and I— we are not—”

“Haha, I know, I was just pulling your leg, Your Highness.” Alfstan grinned, giving Leaf a quick nod. “Morning, Sir Leaf! Were you showing the princess around?”

“Shhh! Be quiet!” (F/n)'s eyes widened.

He protectively wrapped an arm around (F/n) again, this time far more confidently. 

“Yes.” Leaf spoke, voice as solid as his resolve.

“Mind if I tag along?”

His stare sharpened. “I would very much mind, now return to your stall.”

The princess shook her head, poorly judging her retainer’s possessive words as acts of protection. Instead, she dwelled on their attire. “Drats, was our disguise that fragile?”

Alfstan assessed her from top to bottom, which made Leaf even more tense. “Eh, you’re really gorgeous that no cloak can hide your beauty, Your Highness.”

“I have to agree,” Leaf said stiffly, clearing his throat. “Perhaps I should hide her in a hay sack. WIthout your prying eyes.”

(F/n) raised an eyebrow. “And what? And be suspected of kidnapping me instead?” 

Leaf shrugged. “Does that sound like an offense I would commit?”

Alfstan rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. Besides, the only way you wouldn’t get caught is if you hid her in something as small as a teapot.”

And he would be right. But it will take eons to prove those suspicions as truth.

“Going back to your wares, Sir Alfstan,” (F/n) digressed. “These iron-framed tassels, are they made by your hand?”

Alfstan's respect for the princess grew.

“Yes, how did you come up with that conclusion? Most passersby believed I had ‘em commissioned from the East.”

(F/n) smiled crookedly. Leaf caught a glimpse of discomfort, but it was gone in a bat of an eye.

“I… I admire your skill with molding iron.” To the untrained ear, (F/n) sounded flustered and embarrassed. To Leaf, he was certain that she was unsure of herself. “It is commendable, how you smith your very own weapons, that is. I know many of our soldiers come to you when their blades are chipped.”

“You’ve heard of my skills?!” Alfstan beamed proudly. “Really?!”

The princess nodded. “Y-Yes…”

It was odd. Despite her high praise, her wariness remained. She looked at the blonde man. “He had also made your new Ulfberht sword too, right? It certainly pierces much better than his old one.”

Leaf didn’t bother with a reply, Alfstan made it for him.

“Yes, Your Highness. I thought it would make for a thoughtful birthday present!”

“Speaking of presents…” The princess gazed down, analyzing the items he sold once more. “What do you recommend as a gift for someone important?”

If Alfstan was elated by her earlier compliments, he could practically jump over the moon at her newest proposition.

“Oh? OH?!?”

Leaf gave (F/n) a strict yet gentle glare.

“Your Highness…”

“I still won’t let it slide!” (F/n) huffed. “I couldn’t possibly be satisfied with just new sets of armor. Alfstan, by my order, suggest a pleasant gift for the stubborn knight beside me.”

“On it!”

Without delay, the two bent down to select the ideal accessory for the man who vehemently refused. Alfstan was the only one touching the gems and (F/n) refrained from doing so. Tiny flecks of gold and iron infused the tassels, but she feared she would handle the stones carelessly.

Leaf palmed his face with one hand as the two chattered. Still, despite Leaf’s disapproving looks, he finds (F/n)’s enthusiasm to make him happy a wonderful notion in itself. To think that (F/n) would continue to insist on a present for a birthday that had since passed… She was more stubborn than he was.

“So troublesome…” He muttered with a soft smile. “I see no point in this, Princess (F/n). Serving you is a miracle enough itself—”

“Halt! Speak no more, Sir Leaf!” (F/n) exclaimed. “There! That one, Alfstan— that gem resembles his eyes, does it not?!”

“You have great tastes, Princess (F/n)!” Alfstan nodded eagerly like a motivated student. “That does look like his shade of blue— and so quick to find it among the pile, too! Are you sure you’re not some sort of custodian of natural treasures?”

Princess (F/n)’s awkward and stifled laughter can be heard again.

“What? Haha, what nonsense.” She shook her head. “Everyone calls me Princess (F/n), any other name would surely sound terrifying and mismatched.”

A nonanswer, but that made the conversation more humorous.

“Here you go!”

Alfstan reached his hand out with the tassel. (F/n) stared at him, silent and unsure. He blinked and snapped his fingers.

“Oh, right, you need a box— my deepest apologies, I was too caught up in the moment!”

The princess sighed in relief.

Leaf crossed his arms. “You’re doing well for your first time setting up a stall, Alfstan.”

“This isn’t my first and you know it, Sir!”

(F/n) laughed.

The merchant wrapped the gift she brought with care. The hush looms large around them as the merchant boastfully goes about his business, his tone comforting to her ears. The Princess walks over to the gift box once the merchant has finished. She can't help but smile because she can feel the tassel inside.

“Not exactly a surprise since Sir Leaf is here, but the packaging adds some charm, right?” Alfstan asked.

The princess couldn’t hold back a smile as she looked at the knight behind her.

“I think most of the charm comes from the person who’ll receive it,” (F/n) chuckled.

“Don’t you think so, Leaf?”

She wouldn’t know. And she’d never know a lot of things.

She never got the chance to ask her most precious knight if he liked that gift.

And she never will. No matter how many days, months, years, centuries— eons Leaf would wait, he would never hear the princess ask that same question again after this.

It would not matter if he was a judge, a prince, a knight, or a mere animal— it did not matter how many sweet new styles he would take. In the end, his arms will always be empty. Everything was pre-ordained. Dying in his arms, whether it’s slow and painful or mercilessly quick— will remain as the last line. He will always hold on to your corpse, warmth draining. 

This was your fate, (F/n)— no, (Y/n) (L/n).

This was just the first of many branches of the Irminsul. The first of its many reiterations, possibilities, or better yet, alternate tales or "universal resets". 

Princess "(F/n)" coughed, wetting the side of her lips.

"I haven't been able to p-personally attach that tassel on your s-sword, b-but… but I can spare you enough seconds to fly away…"

"Don't make haste!" Leaf gritted his teeth as he applied some pressure down her stomach. "This is not your decision to make!"

She didn't reply to his desperation, but she silently disagreed.

In her palm was the tassel, out of its box. The blue threads darkened with the taints of her blood. The metallic scent was nauseating. It weaved in a disorganized fashion around her fingers. 

What a beautiful and tragic loom of fate, to love someone you were bound to hold with ruin. 

It would’ve hurt less if it weren’t in his colors too.

"This marks the worst day of my life," the “princess” smiled, tucking the stray hair behind Leaf's face. "And even if given the opportunity, I wouldn't dare c-change not even a minute detail about it."

As if she— as if you— have the power to change destiny.

You're not a descender.

You're just a pawn.

That's when Leaf realized how fragile life ultimately was. With the curse undoing itself, he recalled and reflected on his animal days. He understood the Divine Dragon's intense frustration over a lowly duckling's will to perish. The curse of becoming human meant knowing the greed men had, but also the beauty of their kindness. 

His small bird heart was not meant for this much sorrow. His life was meant to be simple. To learn that he was not a duck, but a swan. 

How was he supposed to cope that the woman he had sworn to protect was not human, but a fae?

Everyone in the kingdom knew that the king would sooner disclaim his paternity than allow the crown princess (F/n) to truly lead— but they never had any real reason to support the king for this. The princess’s words were always more kind and ponderous than that of her supposed father’s. They thought him mad. They thought him deplorable. They thought him old and senile.

But he would not be king if he were not sharp.

Why, oh why, would the princess make great efforts to constantly hide her ears? Why would the princess utter roundabout ways in speaking her “own” name? Most of all, why would the princess fear the touch of iron?

There was a simple answer: she was not the princess, but a liar.

And yet, Leaf was the sole person who did not care, for he thought himself as the worst sinner or “quack” in comparison.

The kingdom won't learn the full truth for some time after this, but the fae made a bargain with the real princess. The real princess would elope with a farm boy and, in return, the fae would take her name. The trade was not malevolent. The two women were secret friends since childhood and neither wished the other harm.

But the townsfolks had little patience. They would sooner throw pebbles and stones than kneel for a false princess.

The moral of the story, like most Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales, was simple: virtue will be rewarded, iniquity will be punished. The storytellers do not care beyond that, no matter how dark it sounds to the children who will hear it. The fae lied, therefore the kingdom shall rightfully punish her.

They better thank the dragon they oh-so admire that the court fae did not think themselves evil. They better sleep soundly, knowing that they have slaughtered a well-intentioned guardian.

For he will not and never will.

Not even with a change of title, name, and universe. Whether the land he walked on was called Gaciea, Fodlan, Belobog, the Continental, or Teyvat— what the world steals from him, he promised to take back.

There the two were, back to where it started. The same forest and patch of land where the bear had attacked her. Fate had a funny way of telling tales. Leaf can only scoff at how unimaginative it could be, sometimes. 

Why couldn’t fate think of more comfortable deathbeds for the one he loved?

"You cannot allow this! I cannot allow this!" The knight gritted his teeth. "You will not die— you cannot die. You and I have a promise… You cannot break that one promise!!!”

“(F/n)” grinned.

The look in her eyes disturbed him.

She knew. It is finished. She knew that it was the last page of the book. Just living in these immortalized pages for the fae was well worth the want she had wanted.

“Consummatum est.”

Consummatum est…. 

Leaf gasped shakily.

“Did my life… even have meaning to you as well?”

Her expression was enough to tell him the words “who knows?” She surely did not. Her mind was buzzing and her thoughts were fizzling out. No one knows anymore. Maybe the Divine Dragon would but he would not accept any offering or prayers for these two heretics.

This is fine… He’ll forget his tears soon, surely…

He’s only a sword at her side… She never asked him to be anything more…

He should be okay, once she’s gone…

She grinned, lifelessly tracing her thumb across his cheeks. The curse is undone. The loom of fate was slowly disintegrating. Soon enough, he shall return to his original form. That of an animal. That of an ugly duckling. That of a swan who will forget his human memories. 

It is finished.

On the book’s final page, there is only ever a fae’s corpse and an elegant bird watching over them. With its wings clipped back, curiously watching the light leave their eyes, he will return to the nearby riverbanks and forget what had happened. As retribution for stealing another’s identity, there will be no one left to remember who she truly was.

And that was all there was to it.

With the fae banished, the Kingdom of Gaciea lived happily ever after. THE END.

Dainsleif closed the book and lovingly looked at the “person” beside him in bed. He stroked the “person”’s light brown hair— its color reminiscent of the bear he had slain in his first life.  It’s a shame he had to reunite with you in this condition. But it’s not like he would stop loving you. He doesn’t care if you’re a fae, a sinner—

Or a hilichurl.

He scooted closer beside you.

"So, does the story ring any bells, my beloved?"

Zhongli, upon recalling what happened and the curse he had inflicted on both of you to fulfill some children’s fairy tale, sought the “ugly duckling” and the “false princess”. Retired as he is, he cannot undo the fate you must play nor terminate his contract with Celestia. For consolation, he merely offered the Khaenri’ahn a teapot. Unlike the Chasm, the teapot was forever peaceful and serene. The brightness of lumenstone ores was not as comforting as the adeptal light that peeks through the drapes. This is your current place of residence. Whether you liked it or not.

"To think Nicole would entail the story of our past life." He laughed softly. "And these names... Hah... Are those the best she could conjure up to bypass possible erasure…? I suppose I should still thank her for her best efforts. I can see how challenging it would be to document our story, given how we lived through so many resets."

There’s a slice of cake paired with wooden utensils on the nightstand. If your mind had not deteriorated, you might’ve assumed they were gifts from the aforementioned Nicole and the Geo Archon. Unfortunately, forming a coherent thought required a mental fortitude akin to iron. You currently do not have such willpower. 

“Alfstan— no… Halfdan was right. There will come a time that he’d protect you from harm and not I…” Dainsleif mumbled defeatedly, his eyes burning with tears he couldn’t let out. Far too tired to dwell on it. “He must’ve forgotten his old jests in his previous life because as far as he’s concerned, he’s simply doing his duty as a Black Serpent Knight…”

He pecked your forehead, closing his eyes.

"Did you remember, my beloved? Vacation may not have any business being in my vocabulary but it is my birthday today…" Dainsleif leaned his forehead against the cold stone that covered your face. "I know you— do not feel guilty over your lack of gifts. It is not as if I bothered to count my age since the cataclysm. I didn't want to celebrate this occasion for the past five centuries. Not when you weren't at my side..."

The blonde man turned his gaze to the floor.

How many times will he have to “reincarnate” just to see a happy ending for the both of you?

"Happy birthday… to me…" He sang weakly. "Happy birthday to me…"

The man— the former sentimental judge— the former tyrant prince— the former "ugly duckling"— and now the current bough keeper, observer of fate in this new fairy tale, trembled…

“Happy birthday, happy birthday…”

… And sobbed.

You, in your ungreedy husk of a body, tilted your head in innocence. Pain coursed through every nerve now that the Abyss Order’s cleansing equipment broke. The man before you was no different from the shadows you fought and hid from that would terrorize the dark and cold places in the Chasm you’ve instinctively called home. But somewhere deep down, you carried a complex weight that hilichurls wouldn’t normally have. 

That weight was a human emotion dubbed as "pity."

You pitied the shadow that loomed and embraced you.

And your lone reluctant arm that wrapped around him was enough to make him fully break down.

His throat constricted as he cried into your inhuman shoulders. Your scent was like that of a wet duckling, and he preferred that over the blood that disgraced your form several "fairy tales" ago. Dainsleif caressed the golden band on his finger. It was the most important ring between the two that Pari Zurvan found him clutching whilst unconscious in the wilderness.

At the very least, you were safe.

And you being alive today was a good enough present for him.

You tilted your head down, feeling his warmth one last time while Dainsleif took a deep breath, singing with more air than a proper tune.

Though it was barely discernible, he could just about make out the words you muttered a phrase from the old language of Khaenri'ah. Or at least, he deluded himself that that was the case. In his catatonic mind, you spoke the words:

Happy birthday, my beloved.

"H-Happy birthday to me…"

Taglist: @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen @dxprived4-starboys

[just-null]

your yan!noritoshi is so wisnwonwpwjw RAAAHHHH going absolutely feral ... i want him . ive had so many thoughts abt him as like a yandere n then i saw your art n absolutely lost it /pos

IM ALL EARS, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD FUCK OKAY, HOLD ON, I ALSO HAVE SOME RAMBLES AND THOUGHTS ABOUT YANDERE NORITOSHI BUT IM GOING TO PUT THEM UNDER THE CUT.

I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR UNLEASHING MY TJOUGHTS OFFICER. IT WAS MY GLORIOUS CULT MEMBER RIGHT HERE.

MERRY OCTOBER YALL

[disclaimer: im not a writer, but I want to get better. think of this as my practice. it ended up being so fucking long, but i swear it's just rambles, not a fic]

[warning for blood under the cut? keep that in mind for future posts]

OKAY LETS GO.

Bro ok so. if I'm not too delusional (yet) and don’t see him as a yandere, then this guy (Noritoshi) is still a strict fuck. he'd put you on the same level of importance as his clan if not a bit higher. but only by a bit. Your relationship would gradually bloom into something meaningful to him that he’d cherish you wholeheartedly. Only then would you grow in importance to Noritoshi significantly. He'd keep his resolve and all those healthy green flags. Because honestly? Noritoshi is just a green flag, he's so sweet..

But let's twist that into a yandere setting. I don't even need to twist too much, Noritoshi as a yandere is way too fitting.

Noritoshi was abandoned by his mother as a child, thereby fueling his lifelong goals to do as she said and bring her back. He didn't even think on his own accord, nor did he try to find a different way, or even follow her! He accepted his fate and made it his mission to accomplish the goal he was given. Despite the intense pressure of his worth being determined by an ability he was born with and the high expectations from the Kamo clan, he perseveres. That is until [spoilers] Noritoshi is exiled by his clan because of some Kenajku shit. All his hard work and future goals were ripped away from him without a second thought in an instant. Noritoshi was always the second thought time and time again, and now left as a man with nothing but the failure of his desired future.

That wasn't even the yandere part, that was all canon, what the fuck.

Yandere Noritoshi is the type to cling to scraps... He reminds me of an obsessive and protective yandere. obsessive about you because you become his everything.. his goal, his will to keep going, the light at the end of the tunnel. he wants all of you, from the best parts of you to your worst. He's also protective, because he cant handle losing yet another person so important to him. He'd rather tear himself apart than lose you.

He also seems mostly self-aware but can overthink to the point of delusion. For example, you pat him on the back and tell him he did a great job on something. He knows it's nothing to dwell on, but why does he feel like there's more to your words? Should he read in between the lines? but there's only one line! From then on, his mind would reel until he landed on a favorable conclusion. You meant that he was the only one who did great. The others paled in comparison in your eyes therefore you must favor Noritoshi in some way.. right?

Since Noritoshi was pretty deprived of any emotional support, you won't even have to try too hard to get his heart thumping. If you were to give him even just a bit more attention and care than the average person, like making sure he's eating alright or remarking that he's paler than usual after restocking his blood bags, he's hooked. He's self-aware enough to realize his blooming fondness for you is one-sided, so he simply admires you. that is, at the start. Note that Noritoshi is still new to these feelings so he's.. awkward. It's really cute.

Though these moments were cute to you, they slowly became horribly blissful to Noritoshi. Poor you, completely unaware of how you're slowly corrupting him in, what he thinks, is the best way possible just by giving him your attention. He thinks you're the last and only person still believing in him, so much so that everything and everyone else slowly becomes minuscule in the grand seam of things. He feels happy around you, like he matters, like he has someone to trust, like he has someone who won't abandon him. Because of this, he sees you as a new goal. A new hope. Failing you is not an option. Disappointing you is not an option. Hell, even a frown from you is unacceptable in his eyes.

Noritoshi tries to cling to you at this point in his own way... He enjoys it when you speak to him, or even sit next to him, so much so that he seeks you out when you're not there. You'd feel eyes boring holes into the back of your head, a sense of being followed, sometimes seeing your shadow accompanied by another, every time you turn around to be surprised by a familiar face. His footsteps are so quiet that you barely notice Noritoshi walking around.

Unfortunately, due to Noritoshi’s inexperience, the only way he knows how to impress people is by being “perfect” a.k.a. his strict, pain in the ass, annoying heir shtick. He would be the type to get on your case, scold, coddle, nitpick, correct you, and practically look like he's trying to bully you when in reality he's trying to hear praise from you for "helping" you. He’s waiting for you to see the affection and adoration behind his nagging, is he not being obvious enough? oh well, at least your eyes are on him for now. When most people in Noritoshi's life have either put him second or flat-out abandoned him, he's satisfied with anything he can get from you. Though he'd prefer praise, the thought of your attention being given to another even for a second makes his stomach feel like it's tying in knots, so he settles for your annoyed tuts and glares.

Of course, after a while, you'd get tired of this and tell him to knock it off. Or some variation of what a decent human being would do like, “Do whatever you want, but don't meddle in people's business.”

You KNOW he's going to be picking that apart in the middle of the night while looking up at the ceiling. What did you mean by that? Do you mean ANYTHING he wants? As long as he doesn’t bother anyone? Were you talking about yourself and everyone in general? Were you talking about someone specific? Did you leave it up for him to decide? Thoughts and questions circle in his head until he twists your words enough into something that he favors again. Ah, you allow him to do whatever he wants so long as he doesn't get in your way. But he wants to be alongside you... Did you mean in your way to the point of annoyance? Noted. From then on, Noritoshi's strictness softened into light nagging and bearable hovering. He'd knock it off completely through gritted teeth and furrowed brows if you threatened him with the silent treatment. He'll slowly start it up again until you begin ignoring him, only then will he get the hint and relax a bit. only until next time, of course.

The intensity of Noritoshi's coddling can fluctuate depending on your actions. (recklessness, obedience, shyness, etc.) it's his love language.

It's a completely different story if someone else decides to nag you as Noritoshi does... If someone scolds you, Noritoshi's on the offense. He's known for his occasional bluntness and sassy remarks, but this time... He's contradicting himself all in an attempt to get the other person to back away. If the one scolding you brings up points Noritoshi used in the past, he firmly denies them all and stands by your side. He'd rather sound hypocritical than let someone else care for you the way he does. Noritoshi stands in front of you, almost guarding you with his body and begins his barrage of deflective comments through his clenched jaw such as “That's not your place to say” “Shut it, they did no wrong.” “You don't know the reason why they did so, leave them alone.” and other things similar to that. Jeez, take your advice Noritoshi.. He’d argue and become antagonistic towards someone scolding you, even if it's exactly what he was about to do.

The same goes for someone who tries to be gentle with you to a lesser degree. It's nice that people see how wonderful you are, but having your smiles and kind words directed at anyone else other than Noritoshi is... Upsetting. The resentment gradually pools in the pit of his stomach and suddenly finds himself impulsively moving towards you and this "friend." He stands in between you and the kind person, trying his best to conceal his sneers. He wants nothing more than to have the third party get swallowed up by the ground or hit by a car, but he keeps his composure. Noritoshi sternly states how he’ll handle everything from then on and gives the third party a glare that's much more hateful than usual… Finally! Noritoshi has you to himself again! All is right in the world once more...

Noritoshi has always been on a very tight rope... Any wrong step and it’s going to snap. The more Noritoshi gets attached to you, the easier it is to convince himself that it's okay to cross certain lines to make sure you're safe with him. Even if that line he’s crossing, includes murder. It'd happen quicker if he caught feelings after the whole incident with the Kamo clan. You'd be the only thing he has left, the only thing he'd cling onto with every fiber of his being, emotionally and sometimes physically.

And like every fairy tale, a problem unconventionally shows itself much to Noritoshi's dismay... Noritoshi is shown to be prideful at times. Because of this, he'd try to conceal his more embarrassing emotions and reactions towards you. He wants to be seen as someone strong you can rely on, a steady pillar to your stability, someone who will do anything you wish at the drop of a hat, but it’s almost impossible to execute when he feels like he's nothing but putty in your hands at the slightest sign of positive reciprocation.

If Noritoshi felt his face heating up because your laugh caught him off guard, he'd turn his head to hide how that simple action made him nearly melt into mush. If your hand brushed against his, he'd quickly swipe it away. Not because he doesn't want to touch you, but because you'd feel how shaky and sweaty his palms got with just a graze. Noritoshi's gaze always lingers on his bow if you ever touch it causing his aim to decline in accuracy significantly.

He mentally curses himself out every time he pulls away from you because he knows he's sending mixed signals. Noritoshi loves you endlessly, but please spare his fragile heart. Your presence overwhelms him like no other, and he's utterly conflicted on how to act. He can handle being by your side like he wants, but the second your 100% focus is on him and only him, he’ll start to squirm under your gaze. Noritoshi wants to impress you! Stop being so mesmerizing for just a second so he can gather his thoughts and not embarrass himself! A-ah, but don't look away!!!

Tl;dr Noritoshi as a yandere is needy and petty as hell, but will explode if he gets an ounce of affection! He’s also! A creepy hopeless romantic who sends you mixed signals!

[baeddel]

long post abt accessability in games, DMC3, DS1, and control schemes

games like God of War or Devil May Cry can be inaccessible because they have inputs which require button mashing, which is difficult for someone with arhritis or other problems that affect their hands and wrists. but these inputs are generally not required to beat the game; you have a lot of options, so you can just avoid using any move that's too difficult. the main issue is that these games become more demanding the further into the game you want to go; keeping a combo going in DMC requires a very high apm and use of the entire controller, so a person with a motor disability will hit a wall eventually.

this is a design problem which i think is difficult to analyze. DMC starts from a very unique design—it has a huge number of moves, almost all of which are accessible out of neutral rather than hidden at the end of an attack string—which it has to pay for by using a large number of unique inputs (forward + attack, back + attack, forward then back + attack, hold shoot to charge, hold devil trigger to charge [charges can be buffered]). it introduces a lot of complexity, but it's actually less complexity right away than other action games; instead of having to memorize a long list of complicated strings (cf. Bayonetta's Punch, Punch, Kick, Kick, pause, Kick, which is different from Punch, Punch, Punch, Kick, Kick, pause, Punch [click]—have fun with those!), you can learn attack, shoot, devil trigger, then forward attack, hold shoot... etc., one at a time, and mix them into your play and find out when they're good. its combo system is not just complex but also discoverable; players can try out how its different pieces fit together without opening the movelist.

but once a player already knows all the moves, the game starts to ask more and more out of them. not only do you want to use all of the inputs one after the other very fast (try jump cancelling Beowulf's Killer Bee into another Killer Bee for the first time—pretty tough, right? and all you're pressing there is X and △! the inputs get harder!), but since your charge moves can be buffered, you also want to hold O and L1 to charge your shot and devil trigger for when you might need them, and you might also want to lock-on by holding R1. when watching a really good player playing with an input viewer it's not uncommon to see every single button on the controller light up at the same time. doing that stuff is really fucking hard.

so far we don't have any problems; it's a picture perfect picture of a system that's 'easy to use, hard to master,' right? but because the thing thats hard to do in this case is input a lot of buttons at once on a physical controller, we've just frozen out any players with hand/wrist problems or motor issues from high level play, at least without adapting the game somehow. this is a problem that's difficult to predict, difficult to foresee, and difficult to design around; i don't see how you could fix it without making DMC a completely different game than what it is.

so if you started from the premise of designing a game that was accesisble to people with hand/wrist and motor issues (including suckers like me who played a bunch of high apm games like DMC and Runescape and fucked up their wrist), you'd have to come up with something pretty different at a very fundamental level.

this is why Dark Souls is, in a lot of ways, a VERY ACCESSABLE action game. what do i mean? its control scheme is extremely simple. once you press every button on the controller you've learned everything you're going to learn about it (apart from one very non-obvious hard-coded universal cancel, but don't worry about it). all you have to do is dodge or block the other's guys attack and then hit him with yours.

there's a lot of ways that DeS/DS1 approached the action genre differnetly to other games, but right now i'm only going to highlight one: the kind of 'questions' DS is asking its player. if you think about DMC, what is DMC trying to get the player to do? while you can beat the game with one or two simple combos, the system is obviously made in a way that encourages freedom and flexibility, and the game has systems to reward long, varied combos (the 'style' rating). and that's all it wants you to do (apart from in a couple of levels where they want you to do platforming—ugh!). to accomplish this, they lock you in a room with some enemies and only let you out when you beat them all.

in Demon's Souls the main thing they want you to do is navigate complicated dungeons that are full of traps; some levels have mazes in them, and lots of traps kill you instantly. it's similar to Kings Field, which its a spiritual successor to, but it's also similar to other early 3d RPGs: Deathtrap Dungeon, Die by the Sword, Dungeon Lords... (in one interview Miyazaki said part of his job was to play a bunch of 'open world RPGs' for research, and i imagine that included some of these old, weird games; the first dungeon in Dungeon Lords has a rafter-walking section with projectile-shooting enemies, chain-pulley mechanical elevators and highly damage-resistant slimes). they also want you to kill enemies. but the game never forces you to kill these enemies; you're never locked in a room until you kill all the enemies, and enemies never have items that are necessary to progress in the level. enemies are just one obstacle among others. consequently, enemy encounters are designed in a certain way that makes avoiding them difficult and approaching them complex. an enemy that throws firebombs will stand at the top of a long, narrow staircase, forcing you to dodge them on the way up; two enemies will stand behind a doorway and, if you run in blindly, will both attack you from behind. things like that. it was hard to avoid enemy encounters in Demon's Souls because the levels involved suffocatingly narrow corridors and the enemies followed you forever. but it was possible and sometimes desirable. in DS1 running by enemies is often preferable and, with foreknowledge of the level, always possible. it's also a lot easier as enemies don't follow you very far anymore (this change was patched into the game after release).

running and jumping both consume stamina, as do dodging, blocking, and attacking. getting hit costs hitpoints, and falling off a ledge costs all your hitpoints. both aspects of the game (navigation and combat) use all of the same resources, and engaging in combat is generally one of a few options the player has to navigate an area. it is, a lot of the time, by far the easiest option, but most players will find a few areas that they hate enough to always run through. one of the messages players can leave to each other is 'try dashing through.' the game rewards you for killing enemies by giving you souls and loot drops, but it also punishes you for making mistakes by leaving you down on resources—less health, fewer estus, and fewer spellcasts—so the best thing to do at any given time is difficult to analyze.

the questions DS is asking its players, therefore, is to familiarize themselves with the level, come up with a plan, conserve their own resources and make it out with the loot. at lower levels of play the game is mostly about succeeding at lots of combats and navigating lots of traps over a long distance without making too many small mistakes. then, at high levels of play, the gameplay is mostly about movement, exploiting the game's verticality and taking advantage of holes in the enemy placement. but the change from low to high levels of play mostly takes place in the mind of the player, not their hands; they understand the levels better, they are better able to respond to things which were previously unpredictable to them, and they have more confidence in their ability to do what is needed of them.

so our game not only starts off very accessible to players with hand/wrist or motor problems, but it finishes there too. although, i've gone a little too far: the player's hands will change a bit as they improve at the game. like Monster Hunter, the best way to play Dark Souls is to have a claw grip in both hands; the thumbs should operate the analogue sticks, the index finger should operate the d-pad (for toggle escales, the universal cancel i mentioned, as well as changing spells) and the face buttons (for rolling, using items, interacting with doors and items), and the remaining digits manipulating the shoulders/triggers (for attacks, blocks and parries). while running, you want to hold L1 (block) so you can roll (circle) out of a run without jumping. this might be hard for you depending on your condition, but i don't think it's that much worse than holding a controller the regular way.

anyway, the point is this: you might want to think about making your game accessible not just to the general player with disabilities, but to the 'hardcore' player with disabilities. do you want disabled people to not only beat your game, but be really good at it? how would you design systems to accomodate that? i've talked about hand/wrist and motor issues here because it's what i was thinking about (and some games, like Runescape, aren't really accessible to me anymore thanks to my wrists, at least in the way i used to play them), but there are other disabilities you could probably design around. imagine a player who has CFS or ADHD in a way that keeps them from practicing consistently; could you make a game that is rewarding for such a player to try and get really good at nonetheless? Runescape (conceived of competitively, ie. racing to the leaderboard &c) was good for players with certain kinds of disabilities and neurotypes since it required a huge amount of time and dedication, it really rewarded being unemployed, LOL. but what if there was a game that somehow rewarded inconsistency? who knows...

anyway, i'm saying how i tend to think about it as a rebuttal to the way i see most people talk about accessibility in games, which is merely playing games. thus Dark Souls can be criticized for being difficult for a new player to complete, for example. but this always struck me as a bewildering way to talk about games. plenty of disabled people don't just want to complete games, they want to be good at them. and disabled people can and do become good at games and compete and win at them. so the question for me is not so much 'how do i make a game someone with this disability could play?' but 'how do i make a game someone with this disability would want to master?'—a game which doesn't create headaches for them, which works with rather than against them, and which they actually enjoy at all levels of play.

[oshalittlestar]

saw a lot of TheAc. criticals post from angry/disappointed fans going around my dashboard these past few days -? tumblr algorythm when i catch you - whose recurring (and sometimes only) argument against it, is that Osha is OOC, (mostly starting from ep5) and would never have acted/done this kind of stuff to Sol, betraying the jedi, and mainly that [ep5 to 6] ruined the show.

and okay. okay. if you didnt like the turn and direction the show's taken, i understand, i have my beefs with other series/movies too, so here i'm only trying to share my own perspective on Osha's development, that some may have considered too 'sudden' and 'ooc',

and i completely get why others might see it differently and not be comfortable with it. their feelings are just as valid and legitimate.

but, her being out of character is something i just cannot quite 'accept', if only for the sake of 'rightful' criticism the show may have toward the end:

Osha [and by extension the Acolyte too, but this post is abt Osha] is a brand new character we just been introduced to for the very first time, no old reference, no comics, nothing. and that's something important to note, because in the 4 episodes we had before the 'infamous' ep5, the most we got on Osha's characterization was very 'scarce' in reality, and not really 'set in stone' by the narrative

( contrary to Anakin skywalker, for example: notice the stark difference between how they portrayed him in the 3 prequels movies, and the Clone wars cartoon - 2008. Here, we had 3 long ass movies to get used to Anakin's character, his story, his relationship with Obi Wan and Padme, and how his fall played out, and it was credible. What wasn't though, (beside the fact the cartoon did some blatant damage to how people now view Anidala and Anakin - cough cough sorry cough cough it was my first otp -) was that they heard some..fans didnt like the not 'virile' enough Anakin from AotC/Rots and thought, well, lets take the worst of him in the movie, all his flaws, his dark emotions, and lets mix it to give the fans some kind of jock/popular-aligned/macho-light w/ anger issues/possessive of his girl/action stoic/terminator hero, and nevermind the characterization already etablished by the 3 movies.!)

so, back to Osha in the first 4 eps:

first, from her interaction with her meknek 'bud', Fillik. She's friendly enough - not that much, she didnt went out with her crew/ nor she wanted to share her doings with him (yeah, you can put that on her preferring her privacy/but also: her Jedi's teachings! it did take roots in her very being, her mind and consequently her everyday's life after!), but she knows how to level the mood, and doesnt hesitate to go toward something ..dangerous, if it need to be repared, even if this something is trauma related, like fire...(mmmh. im not saying it's forshadowing, but it was without doubt the first indication that she wasnt at peace with her past - and vice versa, that she's have to confront it)

second, from Yord. it's the first figure from her 'second' past life we/she see. She's a little playful, teasing him, not even a little wary when she sees him again after all this time, and most importantly she seems to trust him from the get go, thats why it hurts her that way! - and it matters, that it was him first, i think. Sol wouldnt have had the same - ah! - detachment, ironically as Yord. Yord, with whom she likely used to train with as a Padawan, and who didnt see her for 6 whole years after she left the Order. so for him to not trust immediately her words, her, it highlights from the start that the connection she had with the Jedi Order is no more, -at the very best holding on a veeery light thread- since she left it behind all these years ago; and even if in the 3 following episodes, Jecki, Sol, Yord (to some extent venestra) believe her, there's always this gap in the back of her/our mind, between her and the Order, that she cant seem to fill...

thirdly, from Sol. do i need to say more?? okay, i will only say that: blind trust. there's nothing this man could do to make Osha dislike him, or acting ill toward him, he held the truth, 'controlled - take this word with a grain of salt, when i say 'controlled', it holds no malicious intent from Sol, - the narrative, for years ! (and here im not saying he was a villain, i am not demonizing him nor am i saying he was an abusive piece of shit at ALL just so we're clear. ik my words may seem cold and harsh) but, indeed, Osha had no special reason to be mad at him, there was this parental/father figure she saw in him, replacing what she had lost on Brendok... ( but the savior hold as much weight to their relation me think.)

and lastly, from the twins/her coven's interactions, and how she (and we, watchers!) interpreted a lot of things 'wrong' because..povs !! To name just a few :

Osha is literally torturing the poor insect: Mae copying her and since Osha is the one calling her out on it, her sister is seen in a bad light by the viewer, since we identify a lot more with Osha, the 'light' twin

Osha getting mad at Mae for taking a sneekpeak at her drawingbook (she needs the space from her sister, who wont give it to her, who's becoming too much, too close, she needs to breathe alone, and it gives the impression that Osha is trapped, in some kind of 'prison')

Osha seeing her sister lighting it on fire just after locking her up, aaaand the fire expanding, fast (we dont see Mae panicking!!!) i'll admit, the show did a good fucking job at trolling us, into thinking Mae was some sort of... 'unhinged' and 'deranged' sister, who set the entire coven on fire 'just' to keep Osha : thats why i also cant get behind these 'ooc' accusations, because, as flawed as the writing might have gotten at some parts - and other things, but i wont dwelve on that here, the Acolyte was, from start to finish, headed in one direction, fully centered on Osha/Mae subversion arcs, and Osha ascension to the dark side: its all the emotional unbalance i mentioned above, in her interactions with Sol, Yord, her family, and how the serie choose to present us with Osha's version of the story first.

and finally, the fact everyone is throwing 'OOC' around to describe Osha's actions is, very mid 'critic' at best, and inherently contradicting the core message of the Acolyte, which is that everyone can do 'evil' and destructive acts in the name of what they may consider the greater good, whether they're justified or not (Sol/Mae parallels go hard in that sense), and inversely the most 'evil' character can be all in all, very honest -Qimir, even back in Khofar didnt really lie did he? - and vulnerable in his presentation: the revealing of his intention toward Osha etc etc..)

aaand im done i dont know if what i wrote made sense (i dont want to cringe so im not rereading this but know that if there're any typos or weird turn of phrase then its normal :)

[dykedvonte]

Ty for answering my asks! Recently, I saw some fanart of the gender bendered crew and it got me curios, how much would the plot change if Jimmy was a woman. I mean, she would still be emotionally abusive (esp to Fem!Curly), but at lest, I guess, the crash would've never happened (?)

Also, her relationship w/ Anya: if she was assulted still, it prolly would've been dissmissed, since it's between 2 women. Or, if Anya is male in this scenario, he couldn't really be able to talk abt it, since society decided that "women can't r*pe men", so it's not serious and he should suck it up. Man, it's just sucks to be Anya in any scenario my poor girl 😭

What do you think? If you have an opinion on that at all, that is

-💀

I think the scenario's where the gender was flipped or any level of gender based intersectionality is expanded makes it so much more complex.

If this is the scenario with fem!Jimmy, it comes with the territory of questionable internalized homophobia. Does Jimmy brush it off in this scenario because she doesn't think lesbian encounters are real ones? Is she struggling with her identity and taking it out on Anya who may be openly queer compared a fem!Curly who is either straight or just not interested in Jimmy? Perhaps it's a sort of weird entitled that can occur in female dominated spaces "We're both girls, I know what you have, it won't matter." It's still is something I don't see Jimmy denying in this scenario, he never really denies it in canon just talks around it with Curly. Here I can see it's less about the pregnancy and more so about the internalized homophobia. Not seeing Anya as anything but an unwanted aspect of her femineity and the allure of it, there's a lot more objectification of both Curly and Anya in this alteration as I would believe feels better thinking of them in that light if they are just fodder in her mind. Guilty pleasures that no longer bring her such. It's a careful situation because I don't want this to fall into predatory lesbian stereotyping, Jimmy is just a person who does not respect other people or their choice, if it conflict with what he wants or perceived is owed.

The idea of Curly having to report it and outing her not only as a rapist but queer and the denial, especially in the case Anya and Curly are both out as she feels a sort of resentment she can't be secure with herself that way. If it is masc!Curly, there could be the jealousy of him being able to actively pursue relationships he wants while she feels she can't, Anya and Curly playfully flirt, its casual but it's something she longs for in the same way she doesn't. She obsesses over Curly because she wishes she could be Curly in a social sense in both aspect male or female Curly.

If it's fem!Jimmy and masc!Anya? It's a much more delicate situation. In this scenario Jimmy gets pregnant. Maybe Anya does a blood test after the incident and finds out Jimmy is pregnant. It's a very sensitive matter because if it's fem!Curly her first assumption is Anya may have done something. That is just the immediate assumptions in cases like this. I think the fact that Anya is telling her would make Curly think it's not that simple, especially since Jimmy isn't brining it up or really caring but everyone reacts differently. Jimmy is pregnant however, and that's a big deal, she'll figure that out eventually on her own but how will she react? Curly knows it won't be good, Anya knows too.

I think the crash is instigated in this scenerio by fem!Curly actually doing more, refusing to sweep it under the rug because she can conceptualize that fear, likely she and Jimmy are the only girls on board. She trusts everyone, well did trust everyone, but it's just something you live with. She can't just live with that double standard but I feel like she really doesn't know how to address it. How does she bring it up to superiors without implicating Anya? What does she do with Jimmy, it still feels like she's catering to Jimmy but now the concern is primarily focused on the life this baby will be born into. If it is born at all. I don't think Jimmy would try to kill Anya in this concept but try to spin the narrative it was mutual up until she got pregnant. Curly doesn't really buy it but it's a lot of processing, a lot more he said she said but what Jimmy is saying just doesn't make sense. It gives Jimmy too much time to really settle with the fact she's pregnant and likely can't support a kid nor wants to give birth out in space. Jimmy feeling like she's being othered from the only other woman could also be a factor, maybe even starting into her thinking Curly is behaving like a "pick-me" for siding with a guy over her. The crash is more spiteful in terms of having to protect herself alone, due to Curly not outright supporting her delusions.

It really adds a certain horror to Jimmy's pregnancy hallucinations because after the crash they are about her, her symptoms the sign of showing. She doesn't want the child either and considering what being pregnant can do to your mental/physical state, especially some of the more negative symptoms, I doubt she is handling it well. A lot of Anya's struggles are with the stigmas around male victims. His body reacted so did he want it? He's gonna be a father and courts likely will make him pay or care for the baby even if they take Anya's side, their world is just like that. Would the other's blame him for not doing more, he is a man after all? Should he be considered lucky a woman was that into him? It's eating away at him because not only does he not feel safe, he actively blames himself.

In the case Curly is still a cis guy, its that weird feeling guys often get when talking about male victims of assault. I don't think he'd victim blame but he likely asks or thinks about how it could've happened, why wouldn't Anya just overpower Jimmy? Maybe he couldn't? Maybe Anya didn't have it in him to strike a woman. He wouldn't. Now he thinks of what he would have done if Jimmy did something like that to him. SImilary to my trans!Curly post, he's wondering if it could've been him. It's likely one of the first times in his life he has to think of that type of vulnerability in terms of himself and other men and against likely his girl best friend. I think that arm pat right before Jimmy crashes the ship would really make him feel weird, not like he'd have the time to really dig into those feeling but y'know WERE GONNA CRASH!!!.

In terms of Jimmy and Curly's specific relationship, it just gets messier if they aren't both guys or girls. There's a lot of misogny on Jimmy's side with fem!Curly. He often points out she's a woman captain or makes a point of her being one of the few independent woman in her field and how certain men hate that. It's insidious but Curly doesn't think about or like to cause she likes to believe Jimmy isn't one of those guys. He can be a bit antiquated, maybe a bit of a pig but no ones perfect! Here a lot of his resentment is more gear toward a woman having that power over him as Captain/filling the typical male roles he fails at. He can't stand that she's above him in almost aspect and he likely takes it out on other women. Similarly, fem!Jimmy and cis Curly is just as bad. It's a fact of not knowing if she wants to be him, wants him or wants to destroy him. It's obsession without anything positive. She feels entitled to his space and life and time and he has a hard time setting up boundaries cause, well, Jimmy's a girl, his bestfriend and it comes with all the stigmas around boygirl best friends. To him it's a sort of oppressive doting, he feels wrong telling her not to pick and like he's being controlling. That's how she'd spin it whenever he'd try to make boundaries with her.

They are still just friends but most people can't tell even if they can tell it's not healthy, in both cases. Either way I feel like if they were opposite genders to each other there would a specific infatuation Jimmy would have with Curly that would be less hidden but sort of unaddressed because the idea of Curly rejecting them would make them lash out in a way Curly may just leave for their safety. It's also Jimmy wouldn't want to be with Curly specifically but just want what would consistently provide/available.

If they are both girls, its envy. It's that sort of hate that someone fits the standards you don't, wanting them to be picked second or crack. She likes to get into Curly's head, point out flaws and act like it's just her being helpful. She wants Curly to be a girls girl but only for her. There's a sort of possessiveness like purposely jeopardizing relationships because why would a man come first? That girl hates me and is a pick me, why are you friends with her still, Curly? Like this is silly but think about how Regina George treats Gretchen Wieners and that's effectively how fem!Curly and fem!Jimmy would work but technically Curly has the sway of Regina.

I believe the crash would always happen. Jimmy would try to escape responsibility or really thinking about what they did in any world, any gender. It's about facing the consequences, losing things he refuses to let go of or having to deal with responsibilities he's not ready for. The switching of sex or gender really doesn't change those core aspects.

[lewsnumerounofan]

party foul part 2 (jeremiah fisher x reader)

summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right? (spoiler: it does)

notes: not biblically accurate conrad, kissing, smut, unprotected oops, somewhat public, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all

+ part 1

+ i fucking hate htis one its so bad i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!

your phone hit voicemail again. it was the seventh time you’d tried calling jere, but still no luck. 

“maybe he’s staying at a friends place,” belly supplied, but she looked worried too. ever since you and jere had kissed the night before, he’d been mia. steven, you, conrad and belly had all taken turns trying to reach him with no success. at first it had been expected, but it was now rounding out on 24 hours since he’d left, and worry was starting to permeate amongst everyone. well, everyone except taylor. she wasn’t too worried about it. he’s probably just moping around feeling sorry for himself, she’d said. 

unfortunately, you couldn’t quite master taylor’s level of nonchalance. in fact, you felt awful. for a few minutes, everything had been perfect. you’d been kissing the boy of your dreams–the boy you were in love with. and then…

“yeah, he kinda checks out when he’s upset. he did the same thing after mom died.”

conrad, this time. him and nicole had just come back from driving through town trying to find him. you nodded, but a tightness was slinking into your chest. jere hadn’t ‘checked out’ after suzanna died. he’d called you, and together you’d talked for hours as he wandered the streets of boston. never before had he shut you out like this. it made you worried. more than worried; it made you feel scared.

“i think i’ll try him again, just in case,” you said. because you couldn’t not do something. because you were scared you’d messed things up permanently, because jeremiah had never, ever ignored your calls.

“okay, well i’m ordering pizza. jere disappearing or not, i’m fucking starving,” said taylor. she’d hopped off her place on the counter and now started flipping through the take out flyers stuck to the fridge. steven and belly sounded their agreement. 

“i can pick it up,” you offered, “it’ll give me a chance to go look for him too.”

you were out the door soon after, steven and taylor’s argument about whether pineapple belonged on pizza still lingering in the background. feeling a bit better now that you had something to do, you let the warm summer air breeze through your car windows. jere was out there somewhere, probably doing just fine. it’s not like he’d do something dumb or get himself hurt. if you were honest with yourself, he’d most likely just crashed at an old hook up’s house. there were plenty of those around in cousin’s, and they’d likely all enjoy having jere back. you tried not to think about it. 

-

the pizza place was a 20 minute drive from the fischer’s, and you took the long route along the beach. it was a perfect summer night: seagulls called off shore, the sunset lingered to the west, and couples lazily strolling back to their cars. it was the type of night jere loved.

you were a couple minutes early for your order, so you decided to make the most of it and join the sparse crowds decorating the beach. you pulled over and parked, grabbing a light sweater for the evening weather. 

amongst the waves and people’s quiet chatter, the beach possessed a lingering hum. it was a sound that accompanied many of your fondest childhood memories, and you took comfort in it’s familiarity and peacefulness. you couldn’t help but think of jere–think about what had passed between you last night, mostly. 

did you finally tell her you're in love with her? 

you hadn’t been able to get steven’s words out of your head. the thought of jere ever liking you was one thing, but love? it felt too good to be true. 

and besides, it’s not as though it would matter if you never even got to see jeremiah again. for the first time, you almost felt annoyed at his vanishing act. he’d left you confused and frustrated and wanting more.

just then, as if you’d conjured him yourself, you noticed jere on the beach before you. his curls were unmistakable–almost the same colour as the sand. his hands were tan and strong as he leaned back on them, sun-bleached bracelets wrapped around his wrists. you wanted to take a picture of him there. keep this precious moment of discovery and summer immortalised forever.

and then he turned around, blue eyes catching yours. 

you could see the moment worry set in by the tight line that furrowed over his brows. he started to rise from the sand and you moved towards him, carried by adrenaline and anger and a little bit of excitement. halfway down the beach you caught each other, but before you could speak jeremiah was shrugging past you.

“you shouldn’t have come.”

the waves and gulls seem to mock you then–the whole perfect august night laughed in your face as you stopped, stomach sinking. it took a few moments for his words to register, and a few more for you to whip around and catch up to him. he was almost past your car when you finally managed to grasp onto his sleeve. deja vu hit you hard enough that you almost stumbled. just last night this same action led to jere’s lips on yours, his mouth hot over your body. today’s jere must have seen the memory on your face because he scoffed, pulling back sharply.

“see? you can’t even think about what happened without looking disgusted,” he said. his voice was low but convicted. closed. you hated it. 

“jere, what are you talking about? you wouldn’t know anything about how i feel–you ran away last night and no one’s been able to contact you since,” you tried. he made an attempt to keep walking but you didn't let him, this time coming to stand between him and the road. ridiculous.

“no calls, no texts, nothing. do you have any idea how worried everyone has been?”

at this jere’s eyes blazed and he took a step forwards, letting his head lower as he spit the words into your face, “yeah, i’m sure you and conrad were just about worried sick huh.”

it took quite a lot of effort on your part not to roll your eyes. what was with this boy. had the kiss not been enough? did he really think, after all this time, conrad stood a chance?

“you’re such an idiot sometimes jere,” you said, regretting it as his chest shuddered under a heavy breath. 

he laughed and looked away. his eyes were bright in the dwindling sun, his jaw harsh as he fought to control himself. slight smudges under his eyes, extra tangled curls, slightly red eyes. now that you were up close, jere looked a mess. heart hurting you reached for him, wanting to smooth back the stray hair falling over his cheekbones. to smooth over this, over him, to let him know everything was alright. he caught your hand. even this, even his firm grasp on your skin, had your body lighting up. awakening in a way it only would for jere. 

“you sure know how to make it hurt. why can’t you just fuck off and we can pretend this never happened, okay?” he hissed, but you knew jere. the way he blinked more and the way his voice changed. “just- just please go home. it hurts me to look at you right now. it hurts.”

his voice broke and he dropped your hand. you couldn’t stand the look on his face. you didn’t let him turn away from you though. this was your boy, the boy you’d been in love with every day for a year. and you wouldn’t have him thinking otherwise.

your pulse raced as you said, “it’s you, jere. it’s you and it’s always been you. not conrad. and it would hurt me if you thought anything otherwise.”

he flinched at your words but there was something in his face that changed. something small, something that took you having to know how he breathed to notice. hope. 

“jere, look at me. look at me,” you said. and he did, his eyes wide and blue. the same eyes you dreamed of. 

“i love you. i love you, jere.”

you folded the words onto his lips as you kissed him. wrapped them in sugar and pressed them onto his mouth, begging him to understand. to see what had been obvious every night you’d called him, every time you’d hugged him, every time you’d smiled at his dimples.

“i love you.”

and then you couldn’t say anything else because he was cupping your jaw, tilting your face and running his tongue over your teeth. panting as he consumed your gasps. pulled the air from you. 

jere shuffled you back until the cool press of your car met your hips. under him and the way he kissed at your neck, you had no notion of what surrounded you. no idea of anything except the heat of his tongue against your throat. your ear. your lips. 

“up,” he mumbled. that was all the warning he gave before lifting you onto the hood of your car. the metal was cold beneath you but his hands were burning as they circled your thighs, coaxing your legs apart until he could press himself against you. 

he was so big in front of you. the wide span of his shoulders, the strong shape of his hands. he was kissing like he’d hurt if he didn't. you felt feverish, you felt elated. jere broke away enough to rest his forehead on yours, chest rising and catching.

“need you,” he said. his voice was tight.

“what?” 

“said i need you.”

“here?” 

you were incredulous at first, but jere didn't even bother to look embarrassed. his gaze was level with yours and you had to blush and look away.

“we could- i mean, we’ve got my car…”

he grinned as he pulled you down, and the giggle came before you can stop it. around the vehicle and into the back seats you were both trying to stop from laughing. it was such an encapsulation of being a teenager. of sneaking around and driving each other crazy and being in love. the feeling had you collapsing onto his lap as he pulled the door closed, huffing onto the tan skin of his neck.

“this is so stupid,” you said. the grin jere gave leaves you breathless. your fingers pressed over his smile, tracing the red line of his mouth. the car was warm and dark and protected. 

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this,” he said, “waited for you.”

you wanted to laugh again but his hands were pulling up your shirt. goosebumps followed the path of his thumb over your bra, under your bra; when he put his mouth on you you moaned. in this little space you’d made the sound was a feeling and jere grinded into you at its touch. focused as he toyed with you, painting your chest red and purple with his lips.

baby, baby, you were saying as strong hands held you close. even as you tried to pull away–push closer?–from the intensity of his kisses. of having his curly hair fall against your chest and stomach. of his eyelashes brushing over your collarbone. you molded your palm to the thick muscle of his shoulder, watching it shake as he took his time drawing you out.

“please, jere.”

he knew what you meant. off comes his shirt, crumpled on the ground beneath the drivers seat. outside the sun had set. gulls still called from offshore, quiet on the other side of the car’s window. 

neither of you bothered getting fully undressed. after struggling with both your pants, he tugged down his boxers enough and helped your trembling fingers pull aside your own underwear. he was whispering you’re sure? even as you raised up on both knees, murmuring in your ear until you had him notched inside you. 

except for your stuttering breaths, it went silent in the car. jere’s hands were at your back, gently gathering your hair into a loose ponytail. he was shaking too then. 

it almost doesn’t seem real–that moment. the press of warm, bare skin. that just days ago you were best friends, and hours ago you weren’t sure you’d have a relationship at all. and now you were here on top of him, having sex in your car at the beach. you wanted to laugh again, but you were seeing white as jere filled you.

you couldn't keep your head up. you were dizzy as you fell forward into his warm chest, taken over by the stretch of him, the perfect fit. he found his breath again, enough to murmur that you were taking him so well. that you felt so good. 

“jere,” you said as his hands found your hips. nodding, kissing the top of your head, he guided you forward and then back, transfixed as he watched where you two fit together. 

it was a tight fit in the car. you had to bend over him so as not to hit your head, and jere’s long legs pressed against the back of the front seat. you don’t care much though, not when you could grind down and watch him tense up, muscles in his neck tight. it should have be criminal to look that pretty. his hair, slightly damp from fucking, curled tighter around his temples. his eyelashes were long over his cheek bones as he tilted his head back, eyes closed. leaning down to lick his adam’s apple you listened to him groan.

“can’t believe ive been missing out on this,” he said. his voice was breathy and quiet and warm on your face and you drew even with him. you wanted to arch into his hands, to bend yourself around him until every piece of your skin was held by his. you felt crazy. 

talking to him like this, when he was still inside you, when you were riding him, made you clench. already you were aching for it. jere knew it too. he was watching you, watching the movement of your body and your face like it was a special act just for him. like you were beautiful.

“jere,” you said. it was just about the only word you can remember.

he shifted beneath you, one hand coming to map the side of your ribs, the other between your legs. the rhythm changed as he began to meet you with his hips, and every breath became hinged on a moan. the way he thumbed over your clit, the way he mouthed at your tits. control was slipping away from you. fast. 

the new angle was almost too much, and as jere buried deep you gasped. your body was liquid and you almost tipped backwards, grabbing at his shoulders. like a man possessed, jere didn’t even pause. his large hand gripped the front headrest above you as he laid you down over the armrest between the front two seats. 

lying prone and naked half in the front of your car, you realized something quite quickly. your back windows were tinted. the front ones most definitely were not. 

“someone could see, jere!” you said, attempting to lift yourself up. most beach-goers had cleared out after the sunset, but faintly you could still hear the sound of people playing in the surf. jere’s tan hand on your chest stopped you.

“we’d better be quick then.”

before you had time to try reasoning, jere was pushing back into you. unable to argue, unable to say anything, you found his hand and laced your fingers together. it was all you could cling to as he fucked into you, as the heat of his body spread over you. it was warm and close and dark and when you finished, together, he stopped breathing. just for a second. then, while your mind was still hazy he pulled you back onto his lap and kissed you. hard. 

holding you there, safe in his arms. at some point he found his sweater and pulled it over your head. warm against his chest, body and legs aching. he whined when you clenched, absently, around him. still pressed inside you. it’s funny so you giggled and he groaned again and threw his arm over his face.

“don’t do that,” he grit out.

“why not?”

you were teasing. his eyes found you, tongue already in cheek. you couldn't look away from his red mouth.

“because i’ll get hard again.”

it amazed you how ready you were at the possibility. your spine already straightening. you don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting him.

but, faintly, you heard your phone ring. it was beneath a pile of clothes and it was on the last ring when you finally managed to snag it. 

“hello?” you said. jere watched you lazily, still smiling. 

“hey, uh where are you?”

you pulled the phone from your ear. the caller id read conrad. shit. pizzas. you’d gotten a bit… distracted. jere caught the name too and though his expression faded slightly, his gaze remained on yours. you smiled at him and couldn't help but kiss him. quickly. 

“yeah sorry about that conrad. listen, bad news is the pizza might be a bit cold,” you could hear groans from the other end of the line, “but uh. good news is i’ve found jere.”

you didn't bother to listen to the response, instead you leaned up to the boy you loved. kissed over his cheek and his dumb grin.

“i found my jere.”

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

⋆˙⟡☽ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ☾⟡˙⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: billy the kid x fem reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: lighting a candle for your fallen loved ones

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: death and mourning, angst, major death, title is from la llorona song (i changed it a bit), based on day of the dead traditions (aka lighting a candle for dead ones; usually at their graves)

𝐚/𝐧: just a very lil short thing abt day of the dead and lighting a candle for loved ones. didn't go too in depth into the tradition but yea its just very short (how uncanny of me) but also HAPPY BIRTHDAY @phantomamor!!! idk if this can be considered a birthday gift but here you go lovely! love you!

The light danced in the cool November air, the orangey flame spirited as it danced against the wind.

“Do you still think about her Billy?” You turn to the man sitting next to you, your arms entangled within the cover of the deep blue blanket covering the two of you.

“‘Course I do. Ma, Jo, sometimes I try to remember my Pa’s face but,” he shoots a look out to the vast night sky above you. He just scoffs, tears welling up in his ocean eyes.

“I just can’t remember the man, y’know? And it makes me sad because he's my Pa, despite him jus’ giving up on me.”

You bring your hand up to Billys cheek, turning his face to yours. You bring his forehead to yours, “Billy, that’s fine. Truth is that he’s been gone a long time and it’s natural that you won’t remember him.”

“I feel bad though.”

You shake your head, astonished at the hard headedness of the man sitting next to you.

“Would you feel bad if I forgot your face?”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before dipping his head to be level with yours. 

“No way.” You shoot him a look of disbelief, opening your mouth to voice indignation but he presses his lips to yours silencing your complaints.

“Pretty darlin’, I only say that ‘cause ain’t no way I’d let ya forget my ugly mug.”

You laugh at the audacity of the man, standing up and stretching as you fix the flowers around his Ma and little brother’s grave, noting how the candle has run out.

He stands next to you, his glossy eyes eyeing his family’s grave.

“D’ya think I could have a minute alone with Ma ‘n Jo?”

“Of course Billy.” You smile, hugging him gently before gathering all your stuff that you brang.

You walk to the entrance of the graveyard, watching Billy crouch down next to his family’s grave. The dark night sky covers him as he starts to tell them all about this girl that he met, telling how in love he is with her, begging them to wait for him and his girl.

The candle lights your face, as you lay your back against the headstone you take a swig of the bottle of tequila that lay in your lap.

“Y’know, I used t’ think ya were crazy talkin’ to the dead n stuff.”

You sniffle, tears flowing down your cheeks as you look up to the sky, the same color as Billys eyes.

“But now I get it Billy,” your eye trace over his engraved name, ‘William H Bonney’.

“I really do miss ya darlin’, so so so much but I promise,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes, looking up to the night sky that you and Billy once shared.

“I’ll never forget you.”

[luxrayz64]

i was level 50 (obviously) A- rank and had luna blaster equipped. they dont track your weapon stats unfortunately, but based on my memory I'd say that splash o matic, hero replica roller and nzap 89 were my top played weapons.

this game has so few gear options. do people who started splatoon on switch know how spoiled they are with gear now. not only are there so fucking many options but you can pick and choose which gear options you want. we had to put our faith in the hands of god (spyke). I dont have any fucking perfect gear.

the ink physics and swimming up walls/ramps feels kind of fucked but I really think if we put these maps unchanged into splatoon 3 we might have peak. incredible how even after kneecapping bluefin and flounder they're still the best fucking maps in splat 3 it's genuinely insane how bad it's map design is. suction bomb rush is mega cracked, I do not miss seekers at all holy shit, but I do miss og inkstrike and killer wail. that shit was BIG.

all in all it feels like splatoon 1 fits the chaos theme so much more than splatoon 3 does because they were obviously experimenting hard at every turn (given this was both the first in this series and nintendos first attempt at an online multiplayer game*). this game feels like a lawless wasteland partly BECAUSE of how messy and flawed it is. 2 and 3 feel so much more streamlined in ways that are both better and worse. shit like gear rolls being 100% luck based, ink me up being the only splatfest track, the sheer crackedness of some sub weapons and just the map variety! port mackerel is unlike any other map in the game. there's so much verticality!! not in port mackerel but in bluefin and saltspray and flounder!!

gonna be sad to see this game go offline. I wish I'd played it more before it was gone.

fuck it idc if my deadname is there my wii u is plugged in im charging the gamepad and playing splat 1 again. I need this

[belzrgr]

Hiii! Hope ur having a good day/night. I was wondering if you could write hurt/comfort abt the reader having a rough time dealing with mental health issues (depression specifically) and sanji comforting them. I understand if not you do you ofc 🩵

I wanted to write more, to actually show you Sanji taking care of you instead of merely telling you about it but it's been sitting in my notes and I didn't want it to gather dust there. Please feel free to request more or something else, though I hope this is a bit like what you've wanted ♡

Sanji & gn! Reader (you/yours)

Tags/Warnings: self-neglect, depression, self-doubt, Sanji wants to help, petnames used for reader (mon amour), hurt comfort

How long has it been since you last changed your clothes? Although you asked yourself this, you couldn't really be bothered either way.

Your body felt heavy, especially your head that laid on your now flat pillow. A grumble came up from your stomach and you curled up with your blanket in your hands. Even though you were so incredibly tired, you couldn't sleep and when you did manage to, it was never enough.

Sooner or later, you would have to stand up and show yourself to the crew unless you wanted them to cone look for you but right now you couldn't get yourself to move. Little particles of dust flew through the air illuminated by the sun shining through the window.

You didn't even know why you felt so sad, why no matter what food you thought of you didn't want to eat anything because nothing sounded tasty, why the idea of doing what would usually bring you joy only sounded like a chore now or why you struggled so hard to even sit up from your bed. Well, that wasn't completely true. Theoretically you knew why but you didn't know why your depression has become so much worse again recently.

Thinking of your crew just made you even more sad now. Maybe they didn't even notice you missing, your brain told you, or maybe they're happy you're not there to drag the mood down.

It made you feel like a burden, wasting away in your bed while the rest had fun outside. What if a fight broke out and they needed your help? You were just dead weight like this, taking up space and food - well not food right now at least.

Despite the chaos in your head, you continued calmly watching the dust in the air outside of it.

The door opened. You looked over to see Sanji standing in the frame and looking right back at you.

"... what's wrong?", he asked you without leaving any room for you to deny that you weren't feeling well. Yet how did you say this anyway? How could you explain to him how you felt so that he understand when even talking made you want to just hide under your blanket completely and ignore everything around you?

Apparently you took too long to answer and Sanji stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He walked over to your bed and squatted down next to it so your were more around the same eye level. Your gaze never left him and your stomach growled angrily.

"You haven't been outside your room much lately. Don't think we haven't noticed you missing, especially during meals." - Sanji's voice was gentle, not accusing. - "It's not the same without you. We miss you, I miss you. So please, can I help you?"

As he talked, he took the hand you had sticking out from under the blanket. Just so that you could take it back if you wanted but you didn't. It felt nice.

You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again. Then you opened it once more, "Thank you."

Sanji huffed lightly.

"I haven't even done anything yet, mon amour."

His thumb caressed the back of your hand.

"How about I draw you a warm bath and make you something light to eat? You can eat on the deck to get some fresh air too and if you will let me, I could clean up your room a bit."

For a moment, you just stared at him but then you nodded. You still didn't really want to stand up but if he helped you, it didn't seem so impossible anymore.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

can i req like xavier x reader where theyre rivals but readers liked xavier for a while now but xavier has no clue. xavier always teases reader when he gets the opportunity to yk but one day he has been like avoiding reader/not talking to them for some reason and reader confronts him abt it

oo

WHAT'S THE POINT?

pairings: Xavier Thorpe x Reader Summary: ^^^ Warnings: light swearing

it's really frustrating when you have a slight crush on a guy that says he hates your guts.

you don't even know why or how you like him, you should hate him by the way he talks to you, the way he speaks about you. but there's just something about him that's so...enticing.

maybe it's his eyes, his deep hazel eyes. so harsh at first look but shows something deeper than that when you look deeper

or his hair, his long light brown hair, looking so soft making you want to run your hands through it.

or maybe his lips, the same lips that held the harsh words, but the same lips that were so plump and pink that made him look so...kissable.

but it didn't matter what made you take a liking to him, the fact is you do and that was that.

but every mean comment seemed to hurt a little more because of that fact.

but you thought back to all the times he was arguing with you, and questioned if it was actually flirting instead of fighting.

-

you smiled down at your paper, seeing the mark written in red at the top.

you had spent ages studying for the test and it seemed to pay off.

you looked up in front of you to where Xavier sat where he proudly showed you his mark, smirking at you as you looked at his 100%!

you rolled your eyes, sighing at his childishness

"better luck next time, sweetheart" he winked

"you would you know if I didn't get the same mark?" you questioned

"did you?" he raised an eyebrow

"just shut up" you groaned

"aw, don't worry, you'll beat me next time, dingus" he pouted

-

an during the poe cup.

you tripped over and cut you knee, the blood pooling out and sliding down your leg.

you winced in pain and held onto your thigh to to stop the bleeding as two Jesters came running to get their flag

"Go and get it" Xaveri yelled to Ajax as he stopped in front of you.

"how could you possibly do that, idiot" he chuckled as he bent down to your level

"oh piss off" you whined

"are you ok?" he helped you up slowly

"I'm fine" you sniffed

"are you sure, you can always tell me when you feel small or hurt or like you've failed and lost" he smiled smugly

"you'd love that wouldn't you?"

"I would, I would really would" he nodded cockily

-

but you highly doubted it was flirting, i mean it couldn't be, could it?

but he did always have a reason to talk to you, either to rub in your face that he got a good mark, to ask you how you are sarcastically or to just tell you that you should do better and try harder

but recently he hasn't been doing that, he hasn't been near you at all.

you haven't seen him in a week, in fact and it was pissing you off.

you always had a snarky comeback to throw at him when he insulted you.

but now that he hasn't come to do any of those, you haven't been able to do that and it made you mad.

so you went off to find him.

following him through corridors past people, you managed to catch up to him.

"hey! Xavier, wait up!" you called out to him, he stopped walking and turned around to see who it was

"what now?" he huffed

"what are you planning?" you questioned him as you stood in front of him

"what do you mean?" he asked

"you've been avoiding me" you crossed your arms

"just because I haven't talked to you doesn't mean I've been avoiding you, besides, we're not friends, I'm not obligated to talk to you" he announced coldly

"I know that" you paused "but it's not like you"

"it's not like me how?" he shook his head confused

"you always find an excuse to talk to me, but you haven't bothered lately, why?" you inquired

"what's the point? all we do is bicker, it never gets anywhere, so why bother?" he glared at you softly- if that was even possible

"well that's not my fault" you argued

"yes! yes it is your fault! it is all your fault. everything is your fault!" he yelled at you, frightening you at his sudden outburst

"no it's not, I haven't done anything!" you replied

"yes it is! you drive me insane!" he covered his face aggressively

"that's not my fault!" you scoffed

"yes it is! everything about you drives me crazy!" he spoke anxiously

"what's that supposed to mean?" you questioned

"it means that they way you laugh at things even when they aren't funny, the way you always have a smile on your face, the way you try your hardest to do your best at school, the way you always know what to say to cheer someone up, the way you see the best in anyone, even when they are the worst possible person ever and the way you make me feel drives me absolutely insane." he admitted

you were silent, seeing that he wasn't exactly done with what he was saying

"and I get to experience none of those for myself, none of those things are for me" he muttered

"what's your point?" you tilted your head in confusion

he turned to look away before looking back at you, the corner of his lips lifting to a smirk.

"my point is that I want you to do those things with me, but all I get is you rolling your eyes and scoffing before you walk away" he said

"so what you're saying is that..." you took a deep breath, looking directly in his eyes

he sighed "it doesn't matter what I'm saying, it won't change anything, because you don't like me back" he whispered the last bit

"are you kidding?" you chuckled

he rolled his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek

"I've liked you for ages! but you were too dumb and oblivious by rivalry to even notice it!" you confessed

"oh"

"yeah" you gulped

"well- um, I won't avoid you anymore then" he coughed awkwardly

"seriously" you huffed, throwing your hands by your sides

"well, would you want to do something sometime?" he asked

"yeah" you smiled "yeah, I'd like that"

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

[figitorynonsenseptii]

jashpeople approve we ball

anyways so. cracks knuckles lets GO

we're calling this the 'The Spongiform Encephalopathy" AU, or for better terms, "Soul Wasting"

new names for them because Why Not,,,,, I wanna,,,,,,,,,, this is for their infected forms:

Heart becomes Coronary

Soul becomes Pseudocoma

And Mind becomes Supranuclear

disclaimer im not all too medical & shit i just happen to think ~99% fatal disease are really fucking cool

cw for. You know. Pr ion Disease. its a horrific disease that i find interesting ok uhhh. but emphasis on horrific

summary: whole's body mysteriously breaking down Oh what the fuck we're wasting away. Shit goes to hell :(

ok so, in this, whole gets prion disease.

all is fine for a while, aside from occasional weird stuff in the headspace's functioning

but alas, things start breaking down

it starts with mind first, he gains a stagger, loses weight, tremors and such

naturally, soul is worried, heart too but he's standing by the belief that he's just really sick <he's not wrong to an extent??>

so, he's bedridden, sick. unfortunately, that also impairs the whole's thinking and all.... fuck.... oh dea r

his headaches get WORSE, the insomnia, coordination issues, insomnia begin to come in, so now soul's taking care of him since he is in a Bad state

at this point, here comes the part where it sounds like an infection au:

supranuclear becomes sensitive to bright light, frankly loses his whole logic motif? holes start tearing in his skin, spurs & stuff, the slow degenerative state of his body overall. his head is never upright anymore, etc etc (design coming,,, at some point)

soul continues to try and help him, but he's already long gone but results are unsuccessful

meanwhile, whole is losing balance, slurring, suffering a good amount of supranuclear's symptoms, just not on as much of a level. he's likely went to a hospital (hasn't had it diagnosed, likely, CJD is pretty hard to detect if i remember correctly) or the same bedridden predicament as him

they agree to throw it into apathy at some point. it's a husk of mind now.

at some point, soul's next.

his deterioration is much faster (a few weeks compared to the slow rate of... it), and this fucking freaks heart out because its predicament was. an unsavory experience, not one he wants to see again

he falls in depression and back like how he was during the worst of cacophony. Slurred speech, restlessness, muscle contractions, coordination problems, etc.

It undergoes similar degenerative changes, though with more happening to the teeth, ears, and legs.

unlike supranuclear, pseudocoma becomes frenzied.

First thing heart does is hide, after having agreed with Soul to lock him in that room after things got worse and worse. Unfortunately, the damned thing breaks out at some point.

And so, he pulls out the gun in a state of panic, (it could be contagious, it could spread.) {it's inevitable.} and shoots it, multiple times.

Pseudocoma, with staggered steps, summons its trident once more, fear and rationale lost to the deteoration of his mind.

The structures of the headspace finally begins to fall, cracks spur on throughout the "walls", heart feels hot pain within his head and chest. Everything's slowing down.

Finally, Heart's becoming Coronary.

7 minutes, feeling like forever, he wastes away like the other two, as whole passes.

Oh wtf ok i did not mean to do that much

yea. thats abt it. they do live on as sort of,, zombies afterward. (im leaving supranuclear's fate open ended)

good day! thats all harass me for more

[storgicdealer]

OKOKOK so im re classpecting the sticks bc i understand much more abt classpects now than i did when i first classpected them. i hope you dont mind if i drop em here bc youre very smart and you know both avam and hs so

tsc - lord of space (this stays, its way too narratively relevant for it not to)

green - prince of breath (very passionate, perfectionist, tries to be carefree even when he cares way too much about what other people think)

yellow - mage of light (moreso on the knowledge front than the luck front, similar to rose but more active in his role, likes to figure things out but using what shes previously learned)

blue - witch of life (FEFERI WOOO obv shes very witchy, leaf feels like theyd be more rebellious, life player bc its very energetic and tends to take on a healer role in the group)

red - knight of heart (tends to jump straight to protecting her friends, very impulsive and passionate/soulful, acts confident but is sometimes more hesitant than others realise)

victim - thief of hope (man i was so on point with this one)

chosen - mage of doom (has a lot of firsthand experience with doom and suffering, also suffers from their aspect, and very good at causing doom *cough* chosen has never won a fight on the right side *cough*)

dark - heir of time (very destructive by default, causes a lot of death, RED 🔥🔥🔥, but also logical, at times a bit too laid back and chill)

striker - maid of mind (maid im not sure on i just wasnt sure what else to do, mind bc shes very straightforward, thoughtful, plans ahead, very serious and logical)

purple - prince of blood (accidentally or on purpose fucks up almost all his relationships at some point, at the same time is also the reason most of his friends met in the first place, Prince = royalty theming, also matches with green)

mango - rogue of life (acts very skeptical and un-lifey but takes life from others to give to the people they care about)

gold - sylph of hope (loves to cheer people up, very hopeful and energetic demeanor, fairly childish, wants to make everyone happy all the time!!!)

hangman - bard of rage (calms people down, fairly chill compared to the other players, prefers to support and wishes people were more peaceful and mature)

ballista - knight of breath (session lacks breath for reasons i dont feel like describing rn, acts chill but actually feels like he cant live up to the title of Hero and isnt that carefree, protects the few people he attaches himself too <- that one scene in his original short where he draws upon the memories of his friends to open the door)

hazard - seer of void (ngl this is mostly just process of elimination but hazard feels pretty void oriented tbf. hes so chill hes not minding anyones business)

paleo - witch of heart (same as above </3 very passionate headstrong etc etc)

sorry for the word vomit in your inbox i want to talk to you more and idk how to initiate conversation other than random infodumps

OH I ABSOLUTELY DONT MIND PLEASE DO SEND ME STUFF LIKE THIS

oh this is so good. this is so good

my knowledge on classpects is probably slightly closer to surface level than yours lmao but from what i get GOD yes !!!!!! yellow being a mage of light / red being a knight of heart is literally them hello. absolutely. its in their code

PRINCE OF BLOOD PURPLE !!!!!!!! WOOOOOOO !!!!! thief of hope victim OH this is so good. im eating this up (id say my victim leans towards being a rogue a little bit. my whole rambling on how much i associate the motif of them being a "divine being sharing the gift of the animators with the outernet" typa thing) mage of doom chosen DONT even joke with me lad. im shaking him shaking him so hard

MAID OF MIND AGENT !!! MAID OF MIND AGENT !!! (even if not a maid shes still very much a mind player methinks)

oh knight of breath ballista oohhh ... this is so smart oh my god (and very obviously. already fits with one of his forms in "wanted" of literally looking like a knight lol)

wait i just realized green & purple knight and princ. cinder im gonna. im. oh this is SO good