#anyways this is probably not 100% coherent

[onehundredandeleventropicalfish]

i see a lot of opinions around, about death, and why she didn't intervene in dream's imprisonment

and i think a lot of people have trouble reconciling the idea that she does care about him, with the fact that she didn't do anything?

so then you get the theories that she couldn't have saved him (as if burgess was ever a match for the endless, he only got dream because dream was still recovering from burning out 99% of his power in overture), or that she was stuck by the rules of the endless not interfering with each other (that's a whole other convoluted discussion topic)

but i feel like these theories all kinda. misread, who death is. or rather, they sort of assume she's a human being with the same mentality as a human, and not the literal personification of death

of course she cares about her brother. and of course she technically had the power to intervene. but think about her existence. think about the way in which she knows everyone, the life she's lived for billions of years, and the life she knows she'll live until she's the last consciousness left in the universe

she's an inherently passive entity, she has to be. because her entire purpose is to stand there for the end of every life in existence, often horrific and violent and unfair ones, and to tell them that's just the way of things. to ensure that that fate does indeed come to pass. she knows how everyone is going to die and she just has to keep talking to them like she doesn't

when she was younger, it was different. granted, she refused to help dream then too, because (at least according to dream) all the endless were incredibly prideful when they were young, and wouldn't even have tried to help each other. but also, we have her word that at one point her job got overwhelming. the fact that she had to stand by and watch so much tragedy, to ensure it happened, really got to her. and for a while, she stopped. one of the few times if not the only time she has ever made a strong decision in the face of fate - she stopped collecting souls. and that turned out much worse. in order to exist as herself, she had to find a way to not only be okay with who she is, but find meaning in it. the person who would get involved, who would stand up against unfairness, that person cannot be death of the endless

and think about death as a concept, for a sec, not just as a person. death is patient. death will come for everyone in time, but time is meaningless to it. i like this panel, from endless nights, for connecting that with death the person, because she is always there and always waiting (in this story she waits here for anywhere between 10 and 200 years, depending on how you look at it. and she explains in this story that time doesn't really work the same to her as it does to everyone else. time is her father, after all. she can wait. she will always wait.)

even when she takes human form, like we see in high cost of living, she is the epitome of go with the flow. she just follows where the universe takes her, doesn't try to change anything, just lets her curiosity and love for humanity put her in whatever situation fate decided she should be. and fate (whether that's her brother, the fates, or something else entirely) does play some role in it, because her human form was created with $10.02 in her pocket, which is the exact amount of money she ended up needing to spend that day. and she trusts that she won't need more than that, no matter how many questions are thrown at her about it

which is not an inherently bad thing! because living in the moment means she is so much more alive than her siblings, it gives her the ability to offer so much more empathy towards the mortals she has to spend most of her time with, it makes her in many ways a wonderful person. she's just, not a person of action

death doesn't show she cares by stopping the bad things from happening to you. she shows she cares by being there for you after. by having the patience, despite her busy job, to sit and chat with every single person who's ever lived, and to comfort them in the best way she knows how

which is exactly what she did

[hajihiko]

I rewatched 2.5 recently and I kinda love the idea of Fuyuhiko finding out that Nagito's psyche apparently treats him as the symbolic representation of confidence and machismo.

Thats a GREAT thought I never thought of it like that ....

This is silly but y9ure on to something

[wildtornado-o]

Something neat I noticed about the Character designs in Miraculous, specifically with the Agrestes/Graham de Vanilys and people closely associated with them is how the colour schemes are.

Under a cut bcs its a lot.

The Agrestes all have predominately white outfits, Gabriel having hints of red, and Emilie and Adrien having small amounts of black.

Meanwhile the Graham de Vanilys have mostly black outfits, with some grey in Félixs case.

I thought this was interesting because the white clothes make the Agrestes look more pure, and innocent, while the black clothes of the Graham de Vanilys makes them come off as the reverse, more "evil" side. When in reality its the opposite, the Agrestes have the darker side to them.

Now when we look at the characters designs separately from one another with that context it becomes even more interesting to me, to see how each colour on each design stands out.

Starting with Gabriel because hes the most outsidery of the family. He is mostly white and red, with hints of grey. The red could be seen as him being separate from Emilie and the Graham de Vanily lineage. While the white is Emilies colour. The silver could be seen as representing how hes mixed with the Graham de Vanilys as well through marriage, just weakly.

Next is Adrien, who has the most outside colours on his person. He has the white outer jack, which coul be seen as his appearance being "The son of the Agrestes" and just as a face and not a person. I think its interesting that his shoes are orange, which is red mixed with yellow, another colour on his pallette which represents the outside influences on his life, like Gabriels red. And then his t shirt is black, like Amelie and Félix's colour scheme, suggesting that underneath the white hes more attached (that is NOT the right word but i cant think of anything else) to them (more similar to them?) Idk but Amelie is going to be his mother soon ;) (Looks at that shot of her and Nathalie) (Theres also the fact that as Chat Noir the only white on him is his teeth, breaking away completely from his family burdens)

Last for these 3 is Emilie, shes mostly white with accents of black, which I see as symbolism of her breaking away from her parents by marrying Gabriel. But the black accents show that she still has some attatchment to them through her relationship with Amelie.

Then theres Amelie, whos entire outfit is black, showing that she never got rid of the Graham de Vanily name or reltionship to her parents.

And then Félix, whos black and grey, showing his closeness to his mother through the black, but also his care for Adrien, whos "white" so it mixes.

Now for "Outsiders"

Starting with Nathalie. Her outfit is mostly black, suggesting her later lack of loyalty to Gabriel, and closeness with Adrien. The red accents show that she was most likely brought into the family by him, those being evidence of his influence.

Then Placidies, whos mostly grey with the smallest amounts of black and white in his hair, showing how hes been with both families (Im pretty sure he was the "knight" Colt gave away)

Then theres Marinette, whos grey, white and pink. White showing her closeness to Adrien, pink showing the influence Gabriel's fashion has had on her, and grey showing her as an outsider, with influences into the Agreste drama

And last is Kagami, who on her outside layer has a white jacket, showing how she dated Adrien at first but felt he wasn't right for her. The black underneathe shows her relationship to Félix instead, a more "real" relationhip, hidden by the white outside appearance forced upon her by her mother through the arranged relationship. The red suggests her relationship to Gabriel, who is close to her mother, who also has a lot of red on her.

[icharchivist]

So i reread The Wigmaker's Job (Lucanis' introduction) and The Wake (DA day 2020 short story about Lucanis' whereabouts) the other day and i have been buzzing with thoughts since, here's a post about it

On Lucanis's wings

I think it's VERY interesting that the story puts a lot of emphasis on Lucanis being anxious of missing jumps, and on failing those jumps. There's a lot of mention on how Lucanis specializes in doing things in the heights, Illario says "if they learn to look up, you're screwed", and Lucanis is anxious about missing his jumps, and when he does during the final battle he's wounded seriously and he damns himself for being too cocky.

and it's the man who ends up getting wings???

if anything that confirms his wings is a new development, but this is so fascinating to me. the story really emphases how good Lucanis is at his job: his senses are ultra developped, he can hear the slightest of sounds from a room away, he sees very keenly (it's also very clear that Caterina, his grandmother and leader of their Crows' house, abused him physically until he had basically all of this covered and a numbness to pain), so by all account, him risking to miss his jumps is his own biggest weakness to become the assassin he wants to be.

And he gets fucking wings. like DAMN.

There's also the focus on how sensitive his eyes are to the Fade and Magic to the point it gives him headaches in contrast to his tarot card showing him covered in Pride Demon's eyes. Also the devs mentioned coffee helps close you a little to the fade, and we know Lucanis is a coffeeboy, so there's definitely that playing.

On Lucanis' "The Demon"

Lucanis gained his nickname "The Demon" after he murdered his mark in The Wigmaker's job, and while i'm sure people would assume it means he's just that bloody, i offer the other reading of how Lucanis *genuinely weaponized actual demons from the other side of the veil to mass massacre people at that party*.

Actually it's another thing i find fascinating. so, Lucanis was asked to kill this guy, Ambrose, really quickly, at a Wig's show he was putting on in a private party only his closest associates participated to. Except Lucanis sees that the Wigs are made from slaves being fed Red Lyrium, who had their legs amputated so they couldn't move, their mouths sewed shut, while kept in Ambrose's lab of horrors. And Lucanis pretty much snaps when he sees that and he refuses to just kill Ambrose quickly - he's going to turn his whole factory against him and make him wish for despair before killing him - and free all the slaves he possibly can.

So Lucanis' big plan is literally to tear the veil open so demons start to possess the slaves he cannot save, and those slaves will tear into pieces all the people at Ambrose's party.

Ambrose himself has to turn himself into a massive abomination to fight against Lucanis when he's basically refusing to kill him so he can torture him more, and it's after Ambrose was turned into an abomination that Lucanis makes sure to kill him.

But a few things were interesting to me on reread:

First, the fact Lucanis knows for a fact that the situation attracted a Demon of Vengeance and that it won't leave until Ambrose is dead. Because the desire for Vengeance of the slaves is just that big, it must be so. Lucanis identifies it right away for some reasons which i find very interesting because this is a rare type of demon??? "Rage" are lower level demons but Vengeance is a higher type. Even if Lucanis had some information about magic (from where?? did he develop it from being that prolific in Tevinter?) this is highly specific.

But Lucanis also knows for certain that once Ambrose is dead, the abominations made from the slaves will turn to dust because "they will have had their vengeance." -- and he's proved right as it happens. Which is WILD because i don't think we've ever seen a case like that before??

Which leads to my conclusion: Lucanis is savy with spirits and demons and knows when he can get help from them. I suppose it's something you pick up when your main field of killing is Blood Mages in Tevinter, but it's fascinating to me.

and i think it adds to why the Vints start to call him The Demon. It's not just that Lucanis can kill even the most prepared of mages, that he can leave a bloodbath behind him and move on-- it's that he still knows enough of the Fade and spirits to turn the very demons the blood mages are used with manipulating against them.

(there's also the possibility of Lucanis being possessed but he earns this nickname BEFORE any possibility of him being possessed and i think that's the most important part)(i also have opinions about that in particular especially due to recent spoilers but i decided not to go into it this post to focus on the pre-game content.)

Lucanis the Freedom Fighter

Another thing about Lucanis that is really interesting especially as it's contrasted with Illario is that Lucanis actually feels strongly about social causes but he believes himself trapped in his position as a Crow and he can't do anything about it. He knows a lot about Elven Alienage Culture. He makes Elven friends. He befriends the slaves at Ambrose's house. He's genuinely gentle with one of them, Effe, even when Illario himself, as a good Crow, tries to remind him to keep his distance.

I think it's really interesting because the Crows are NOT supposed to be involved at all in this type of things. They are here for the mark and the money. They're not heroes. They shouldn't let their morals guide them.

But Lucanis is all about his morals. If you upset his "delicate sensibilities" like he says, he will go around his mission.

And Lucanis balances both wanting the safety of the people he wants to protect and the pure vengeance he wants to offer.

I think one dialogue that illustrates it well is when he talks about wanting to free the slaves and Illario tells him they're not Freedom fighters and he need to stop, and Lucanis replies "at least we can give them vengeance." Lucanis priority was safety, but as a Crow, as a person made for killing, the only path he can really see is the one of destruction. He wants to help, to be benevolent, but since he's not made for it, he'll find out what he can do.

There's also a line i love from Lucanis when he decides that it doesn't matter to him if Ambrose's guests get killed in the massacre Lucanis unleashes to punish Ambrose, because they're all aware of Ambrose's machination or blissfully ignore it for their own comfort, and he thinks "Ignorance is bliss, not innocence." To him, if you end up profiting from the suffering of others, you're just as much worth punishing as the people he found out they could profit from it.

He has a strong moral compass and can put himself into the position of Judge and Executioner, but at the same time he wants reparation for the people who were hurt.

Like i said it's also interesting he knows about Alienage culture, about how the guards of Vyriantum burnt down the Alienage Tree to crush their rebellious spirits, but Lucanis knew of the customs and still commented that it had had the opposite effect, obviously. He cares about how people try to battle the system.

He's happy being tasked to murder racist blood mages because he hates racist blood mages.

(sidenotes: he's called Mage Killer in the trailer because he's getting this reputation in Tevinter, where he kills BAD BLOOD MAGES, VENATORIs. He doesn't hate mages on principle. He's just specialized in killing powerful mages in Tevinter. Stop acting like he's a mage hater, he's not!!)

And at the end of the story, when he comes, covered in his own blood to see Illario again after he tasked Illario to save the slaves while he dealt with Ambrose, when Illario worries about him Lucanis brushes it off and goes "it doesn't matter. what about the slaves did you manage to bring them to safety?"

And i think there's a layer of interesting when you know the Crows are known for using slavery. Lucanis and Illario are BORN Crows. They're the grandsons of the First Talon of the Crows, the most powerful house of the Crows and they're born in it. They weren't slaves who were bought and then unable to ever leave, like Zevran. Sure in a way they're also not able to leave but they're tied by the abuse of their families and duty, which is a form of Slavery, but not pronounced like Zevran's. And especially, Lucanis thinks nothing of it. He's okay with being a weapon, he's okay with Caterina's abuse since it means it got him to survive this far. He doesn't see his position and there's questions to be had on how he sees the others Crows who come from Slavery.

But thing is that Lucanis is really on another level caring about freedom and safety even if he has to put his work on hold for it.

Lucanis the Assassin

One thing that actually interests me in regard to what i just wrote is that Lucanis wants nothing to do with the Crows' leadership.

Illario and Lucanis are both considered as possible successor to Caterina, the First Talon of the Crows. The Crows are organized by specific houses which are all led by Talon and their number shows how high in the hierarchy they are. Basically, Illario and Lucanis are Crows' royalty. They're the grandsons to the highest ranking member of the Crows all around.

Lucanis is considered the Favorite though, Caterina favors him openly. And Lucanis hates it. He doesn't want to lead the Crows. He thinks Illario is better for the job because Illario is much more of a tactician, someone who's much more set on the rules of what it means to be a Crow, someone who knows how the Organization world.

Lucanis considers his talents are only on how he's good at killing and good at withstanding pain. He doesn't see himself as a leader no matter how much Caterina pushes him.

And considering Lucanis' thoughts on Slavery for instance i wonder if this is one of the things that play into it, especially with how one of his conversation with Illario about it (Illario who rEALLY wants to become Talon) happens right after they got into an argument because Illario had to free the slaves for Lucanis despite the fact it's not their job, and that Lucanis endangered the mission by getting guided by his desire for vengeance.

By all account, Lucanis knows Illario has a clearer mind about it, to respect the rules of the Crows. Did Lucanis ever think about how being a leader of the Crows would mean having to grapple with the way their Order resolve this much around Slavery? He goes insane the moment he sees the slaves suffer, even before seeing the worst of it he gets very protective of Effe just because he sees her master has torn her hair out, which while horrible probably barely compare to the torture Caterina pushed them through. I doubt Lucanis could actually reconcile the way the Crows work, and the way he actually sees the world.

I feel like he makes an exception for his upbringing because it's all he knows. He's thankfull for Caterina's abuse because it prepared him being the best Crows, but he never had any alternative proposed to him. He resents seeing other people's Abuse, but he doesn't even process the fucked up situation he's in, nor the fact he has no escape. And i think avoiding the leadership is the best he can do to not address the hypocrisis the Crows left him into.

All in all he's also pretty established as someone who can withstand all sort of pain because of the multiple torture Caterina pushed on him, and he also can just as easily conduct this judgement on people. In the story, they manage to arrest a Venatori who was spying on them and Illario ties him up to torture him and asks him who sent him, but when the Venatori says "even if you torture me i won't talk" Lucanis just shrugs saying he won't bother and he kills him instead, looking through his stuff instead to get his answer. And i'm not even talking about how Lucanis even managed to arrest that Venatori, this was insane.

Lucanis doesn't hesitate to kill, he doesn't hesitate to bring pain. He also tells himself the "child song" that Caterina taught him and Illario about how to kill multiple people, which Illario teases him about.

But as said before even as an assassin he cannot fully close his heart to the suffering of people around him : thus he believes Illario is much better fitted than him for that.

Lucanis, the Brother

Lucanis and Illario are cousin, of the same age, who were raised together. In The Wake, Illario says "He was my cousin, but we were more like brothers, really.". They were much closer than anything else and were raised as siblings.

It shows in their dynamic. They bicker, but it's always out of care about one another or mild annoyance. There's never any animosity between them even though Caterina set them up as rivals for the title of Talon. Even when they discuss it, they're level headed about it, fully about how Caterina perceive them, not about each other's faults. They're important to one another.

Lucanis' voice actor actually mentioned reading the Wigmaker job because voicing his character and immediately connected to Lucanis because he has a brother that he bickers with as much as Lucanis bickers with Illario, but they would die for one another, and it made it really easy for him to get into Lucanis' role.

Lucanis calls out Illario for looking like a tourist, full of gold, for a party in Tevinter, but he also mentions that he dragged Illario shopping (while he, himself, didn't buy anything), only because he always liked the finer things and some fashion, but especially because Illario felt excited about it. When Illario flirts around at the party Lucanis is so exasperated with him but in a very "that's my idiot of a brother" type of way and it's really sweet.

The Wake totally destroyed me with the way Illario talked about Lucanis. All of those talks about Illario wanting to lead the Crows, of not wanting to lose it to Lucanis even if he was the favorite, and the moment Lucanis is believed dead, Illario totally crumbles and says:

"And I was always right behind him, you know? Always.” Illario’s voice suddenly grew thick with emotion. “Now there’s nobody for me to follow.” [...] “It should have been me.”

Despite the competition, despite thinking he could himself be the good Talon, despite Lucanis constantly reassuring him that he believes Illario is the better leader of the two - once Illario believes he lost Lucanis, his thoughts go to how in the end, he was the one always following Lucanis. That without Lucanis Illario doesn't know where he's going. That in the end, he would have rather died than losing Lucanis.

It's very touching reading The Wigmaker's Job and The Wake back to back because you see their very serious conversation about who could lead the Crows, but once Lucanis' die, none of it matters for Illario. He just wanted to be with Lucanis more.

DESPITE the fact that Illario warned Lucanis multiple times about how HIS behavior was going to get him enemies; Illario fuss over how Lucanis makes himself known to his preys, he knows it's LUCANIS' BEHAVIOR that is getting him into trouble. And yet in the end he still thinks "it should have been me.". Illario is aware it's all in Lucanis' hands yet he cannot even process it this way because he misses him so bad.

Also idk where else to put it but in The Wake we learn that as a kid, Lucanis was the type of people to get hyperfixation and ramble for ever about them. He read about Wyvern once and it's all he could talk about for weeks, which Illario is lovingly annoyed by, while also mentioning later that they went Wyvern hunting together, implying that despite being annoyed, Illario was more than happy to indulge in Lucanis' obsession. It's very cute because it shows just how close they are that something was both annoying and endearing, and it shows how Lucanis was as a kid before the training of the Crows made him more quiet and reserved in general.

Yet Lucanis would drag Illario into all sort of troubles, and Illario thinks fondly about all of this because those were always worthwhile for him.

About Lucanis' hyperfixation i wonder if the focus on coffee in every promo material shows where his new passion is at. They mentioned it's canonically to block out his sensitivitiy to the Fade, but it'd be cute if he rambled about it. Please.

On his Fate

So. Back in 2020 when i read Tevinter Nights, i was convinced Lucanis will come back because his story ends on a cliffhanger. Then, The Wake came out and i was devastated it might not be the case, that Illario was going to take over from where Lucanis started. So my excitement about seeing Lucanis in the trailers can't ever be compared because i KNEW his story was unfinished and i'm so happy about it.

In The Wigmaker's Job there's focus over the fact the Crows' personal identity are not supposed to be well known. People aren't supposed to know their names. But the Venatori learnt about Lucanis' name, and they know his reputation, and it's why they're keeping an eye on him. Illario is really alarmed by what it means, though Lucanis doesn't care because if he kills them all it'll be fineeee.

But when meeting Effe, one of Ambrose's slave, who sees their face and knows they're the Crows, Illario starts to argue they should kill her because they can't let her know their face. Lucanis brushes it off, says "no she didnt. Right you didn't?" and Effe confirms, seeing Lucanis is saving her life.

Illario however panics more and fuss over Lucanis. Lucanis just shrugs that if someone sees his face, he'll just grow a beard.

indeed in the book he's described with only a 5 o'clock beard type, so him growing one in da4 is probably a direct call back to this specific line. continuity. Also Blackwall's school of "don't be suspicious".

But indeed Illario's concerns were correct. The story ends on seeing a Magister willing to hunt down Lucanis, and she mentions specifically that now they know how to get to him:

“Don’t be. I’m not a fool like Ambrose. A true maleficar knows demons cannot be killed, only controlled. If this Crow fancies himself a demon, then I look forward to using him to his full potential.” “How?” Crispin asked. “Never underestimate the power of observation,” Zara lectured. “I’ll keep a low profile. That should entice him to move on to more exciting prey.” “But he’ll continue killing Venatori,” Felicia pointed out. “For which he’ll be duly punished. In the meantime, we practice patience.” Zara paused to marvel at herself. Every feature and proportion were in perfect symmetry. And yet, when she smiled, there was something ugly behind it. “Freeing Ambrose’s slaves already tells us this Crow has a heart. He will reveal other flaws. And we will exploit every last one of them"

First of all, terrified about the fact she wants to control him, re again: Lucanis' relationship to freedom and the paradoxal situation of his position within the Crows. Him leaning more and more into Demon/Spirit territories make him also more prone to be seen as a potential slave (as Blood Mage often do, after all).

But yeah, the thing is, freeing the slaves IS coming back to bite Lucanis in the ass. It showed that he cared, that he has weaknesses, that it can be used against him.

I can imagine Zara can have tracked down the slaves that were freed to have information on his face. And it's probably also because he cared so much that he ended up in a situation that led to him seemingly die. He may have been trapped because he has a heart too big and people found a way to use it against him.

so we know Zara is hunting him down (and one of the trailer shows Lucanis fight about a woman mage, and considering the big worldbuilding effort they do to show us how nasty Zara is in particular, she definitely feels like a minor antagonist in the game). She probably tried to kill him once, and probably will try to use him again once the game starts.

The Wake showed that Lucanis seemingly have died. We know he's still alive - whether it is because he faked his death or became an abomination himself, he's still alive but had a brush with death.

We see Viego and Teia in the trailer. They both appear in Eight Little Talon and comment about Lucanis on here, and they also have a physical appearance in the Comics The Missing, which is how we can recognize them. Most importantly, they're the two people who take care of Illario when he's grieving madly for Lucanis in The Wake.

So i'm assuming Lucanis will be able to tell his closed ones that he's still alive, or at least Viego and Teia may alert Illario about it.

I hope they do, i hope we see all of them back on screen, reuniting all together.

Final Thoughts:

My head have been buzzing with thoughts about Lucanis for the past 4 years, while feeling like i was fooling myself with "here's how Lucanis can still win" after The Wake came out. And in the end, i win. I'm the one who wins. And now being able to reread Tevinter Nights and The Wake really gives me even more perspective on him.

I loved him then, i still love him now, even more than i did before, and i'm so excited to see how his character will be utilized more.

Finally, this one line that still lives in my brain rentfree:

I can't wait to kiss him after all those years thank you DA4 for your services.

[sunnykeysmash]

im not gonna make the other post yet (bc it takes me a lot of time to elaborate it take screenshots etc lol) but i need to post immediately about this part in regards to the "starting over" post i just did because

i find it deeply fascinating that dee tries to get dennis to his senses by saying "it's me". you know, it was me, it was always me. I'm dennis, I've always been dennis. you're still you, you've always been you.

on one side, someone faced with so many lies he wants to end everything.

on the other, someone trying to remind and explain to them that they're still the same person they know.

it's a big risk for dennis to finally be honest about how he feels, because it implies he's been lying the whole time. how can he be trusted to be truthful Now?

idk just thinking

[braisedhoney]

SERIOUSLY IT FEELS LIKE THIS SOMETIMES WHAT THE—

(screaming relegated for tags, as always ;; omg)

🐝New hive art!🐝

@braisedhoney

Non canon as you like it❤️

Those are just some fun concepts/head-canons I drew bc Hive obsession never lets me go

🐝 Ship location drawing

I headcanon the idea that the whole ship runs on honey

(Honey is gathered and goes to producing food + producing honey fuel)

(Also wanted to draw 2 locations, but energy left me 😔 so 🫵maybe some day🫵)

🐝Pollinator’s backpack

(Basically took the idea of irl pollination)

Crewmate sticks the sucking tube in the flower, and it sucks up all of the nectar. Nectar is stored in “pollen baskets”

🐝Bee mecha

Bonus

Thanks to @demonicrhythms for showing me silly bear earrings💞🐻‍❄️

[shipmansflannels]

"who asked first" with the yellowjackets

yay! I'm back! the decision to open a new blog just for yellowjackets wasn't easy at all, but since it's been a year since this obsession has barely gone away and I already had an extremely confusing blog with layouts and the like, I wanted to start over with this one. hope you like it. I'll make a very simple and small prompt first, and then I'll make the masterlist and the oneshots/fanfics. stay tuned! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

--------

who asked first with the yellowjackets girls...

jackie taylor.

well, if we're going to be honest here, you definitely asked first.

of course, jackie had already been rehearsing for weeks how he would ask you out. but she's obviously a girlfaillure, so you definitely asked first.

it was probably when she least expected it. it could be at soccer practice, or when you were coming home from school together and you had the audacity to ask her to go out with her to some hypothetical and boring place in the middle of the street… whatever.

all I know is that this little loser was eager for you to ask, and she definitely rolled out the classic, "took you too long…"

shauna shipman.

again, you asked first.

shauna doesn't have the social tact to ask you out (she's just like me), and drunk is even worse, so you actually had to make the first move most of the time.

just like jackie, it could have been when she was at soccer practice, or when she was alone enough to vent to her journal and you were able to get close to her without scaring her. anyway, the thing is, shauna was already secretly expecting this to happen (a lot of her journal pages were about you btw), so it wasn't a surprise either when you asked her out.

despite everything, you didn't have any difficulties on your first date. she's pleasant company, I suppose.

natalie scatorccio.

one of the rare exceptions where she asked first.

okay, don't be fooled, either. natalie is very cocky from time to time, but asking to go out with you is definitely one of the times she tends to weaken. so, kevyn probably dared her to do it and she just took advantage of her cooler personality to use it on you.

but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. in fact, it's kind of a good thing (and probably depressing for her) because she only felt like herself when she asked you. I see in nat a huge tendency to ignore some of her feelings, especially when it comes to people she likes.

the invitation was probably also full of teasing on her part, from body language to the words used for it. and somehow she made it look cool and convinced you to accept it.

things that only natalie scatorccio could do.

lottie matthews.

for some reason, I'm 100% sure you asked first.

I know many of us think of lottie as a completely carefree, liberal and often bitchy enough person to ask someone out on a date. but, if we count the pre-crash, I think she was a very insecure person and uncertain of her feelings, more due to the influence of the pills.

so, as incredible as it sounds, you asked first. it was in an extremely relaxed conversation between you that the invitation ended up unintentionally, and she was visibly panicked when she agreed.

lottie is probably the type of person who has a rehearsed speech in front of the mirror while getting ready, and with her enviable style and expensive clothes (some stolen), she would do anything to make your date the perfect date.

taissa turner.

she asked first.

taissa is confident enough to ask you out, I have no doubt about that. but she definitely spent weeks planning the perfect invitation, just in case everything went wrong and she needed to run (just like what happened when she thought about breaking allie's leg before nationals).

anyway, taissa would certainly ask first and it would be quite a surprise for you. taking into account that, from the moment you accepted, you would discover that van also knew about her friend's ideas, and later that half of the team also knew. it would be a shock because you wouldn't understand tai's intentions at first.

but none of them are necessarily bad. one, is that tai was really excited if you accepted, and her anxiety couldn't stop her from wanting to tell the world. two, because she was overly excited that you had agreed to go out with her, and wanted the world to know it as well.

van palmer.

as much as I would really like to prove otherwise, you asked first.

van has the same problem as lottie, but in her case, it's excessively because of the sarcasm jokes and high charisma. she thinks she's being too much for you and that asking for something like that on this level would end up scaring you away.

in the end, it's totally the opposite, but it's going to take van a long time to figure that out, specifically. the invitation would happen when she least expected it, probably when you were feeling confident enough to pass notes to her during classes.

it's a cute invitation, and one that van would hold in question for a long, long time.

misty quigley.

there would be no other answer. she asked first.

misty has no shame in admitting that she has a crush on you. and of course, to ask you out on a date, this shame decreases even more. she doesn't even care if she will be made fun of by her colleagues, what really matters is that she planned everything for you to accept.

and when I say everything, it really means everything.

from the moment she will slide up to your table and quietly ask if you accept, to the tone of voice she will use to persuade your brain to accept, to the place she will take you hand in hand and then let it slide. … she literally thought of every detail.

and, well, knowing misty quigley's ability to create plans, the whole thing worked out… until you figured it all out and admitted that you liked it even more, much to her surprise.

laura lee.

you asked first, of course. there would be no other answer either.

of course, not ruling out the possibility of laura lee asking first, given her hidden impulsive personality, but, in this case, taking the obviousness into account, you asked, and had to be careful with every line said in the invitation.

of course, it needed to be at a time when you were alone, because you were afraid that pressure from other people would make you feel suffocated. this, of course, did not happen. she thought it was a classic weekend outing, like you guys usually did, until she realized your real intentions.

and, truly, at no point did it make her feel restrained or scared. she was ready to be vulnerable and be herself around you, no matter what.

(but, if you casually ask lottie at some point, she will definitely claim that she saw laura lee rehearsing some speeches and compliments for you in the locker room mirror…)

[toruro]

IF YOU WROTE ABOUT TAEHYUN I WOULD DIE HAPPILY 💘💘 if you don’t mind a nsfw request, messing around with academic rival Taehyun stuff maaaaybe 👀

answers

pairing. kang taehyun x reader

tags: smut (18+ / mdni), academic rivals au, mean dom taehyun, bratty reader, fwb (more like enemies who fuck but iykyk), angry / hate sex, implied dacryphilia, pet names (pretty)

w/c: 930+

a/n: i wrote a rly similar thing for joshua ages ago but i feel like it's so fitting for tyunnie too ... academic rivals is just right for him :3 ty to @agustdiv1ne my lov for reading this over 4 me hehe anyways thank u for requesting, i hope u enjoy!

taehyun likes answers.

taehyun likes knowing answers.

he likes simple responses, easy explanations—pretty much anything that gives him the answer, plain as it is.

so it's safe to say he's just the least bit ticked off when you somehow outscored him on the last o-chem exam, and neither the professor nor you are giving him a straight answer as to how in the world that happen.

because taehyun swears—he swears on every last star in the sky—that he had hit the nail for this one. studied hours on end, turned down every single one of yeonjun's party invites, cancelled half his plans with beomgyu—he did fuckin' everything to make sure he'd secure that number one spot, but there you were, grinning with your stupidly pretty, pristine face as you held up your paper with a bright red '100' etched into the corner.

you must've been so proud of yourself too.

taeyhun almost feels bad, looking down at you as you try to muffle sobs of pleasure with your palm as he rams into you from behind.

"how'd you do it?" he hisses, bruising grip latched onto the plush of your hips.

"d-dunno what—fuck—" you whine when he jams his cock into your warm cunt with vigor that has you lurching ageainst the desk, gripping the edges so tight your knuckles are beginning to burn white. "—dunno what you're t-talkin' about," you manage to gasp out in the short moment of recuperation taehyun gives you before dragging his hips back and shoving his length back in just as deep.

"fuckin' liar," the faux, silver haired boy grunts from behind. a strangled moan escapes your throat as he continues to drill into you, and you press your cheek against the cool wood of the desk in fruitless hopes that it will keep you sane for just a moment longer.

"t-taehy—"

"save it," he growls, and the way his voice is so gravely, so deeply animalistic has you unconsciously thrusting your ass backwards too to meet his forceful thrusts. "can't even gim'me a—" his breath hitches when he feels your sopping cunt tighten around his length. "—a straight fucking answer."

you try to shake your head but with the way your body is throttling after ever snap of his cock into your cunt, the task proves extremely difficult. "feels so-oh good," you tell him in airy breaths. "c-can't—" you can't think, is what you want to say, but you're too fucked out to even be able to form coherent words, and the thought makes you grow dizzy with heat.

taehyun moans at the sight that follows—you looking up from him as you crane your neck to face him, back arched into the hottest fuckin' view he's ever had the pleasure of seeing, tears streaming down your pretty face, staining your cute cheeks, dripping off your swollen lips and—fuck, he might as well bust it on the spot if he wasn't so damn furious.

"feels too good, huh?" taehyun scoffs. "too good to tell me how you outscored me?"

"i-i—" you choke out when he rams into you so hard the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears. "—told you i dunno. it's j-just i did better," you choose to add, not realizing that those five words were probably the last things you should have said.

taehyun pulls out of you in an instant.

it happens so fast that you swear you can still sense the lingering feeling of his fat cock inside of you, all pretty curves and veins carving their shape into your hot, gummy walls.

and then it hits you.

you're painfully empty.

"sh-shit!" you whimper, scrambling against the desk with jelly legs and sore hips as you mindlessly try to do anything that'll fill you up. it nearly angers you how quickly you resort to begging. "no, no, no, no—please, no! why'd you stop?!" you cry out, turning to face him him completely now. your ass now presses into the side of the table with taehyun looming over you in front, eyes dark and jaw clenched.

your eyebrows curve into a frown, puffy bottom lip jutted out in a pout as taehyun watches you intensely as you mewl softly, pushing yourself to sit on your desk and spread you legs for him. "taehyun, i—"

"so now you wanna talk?" he scoffs, surprising you by grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer to the end of the desk so that your dripping cunt are positions right in front of his shining cock. "tell me," he mutters, sliding the thick tip between your pulsing folds but not giving you what you want the most.

"please, taehyun, please," you repeat, writhing against his hold in a dreadful attempt at slipping his cock into you.

"you gotta tell me, pretty," taehyun whispers, nudging his length against your throbbing clit so that you jerk slightly at the stimulation.

"already told you," you huff out, having half the mind to roll your eyes at him, but something tells you you know better. "dunno—guess i just—"

you shriek loudly when he sinks into you at once, balls pressed against your ass as he leans over you and pins you to the desk. "say it," taehyun dares, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear as you close your eyes and revel in the feeling of him so deep inside of you. "say it and you won't walk for a week."

you don't know what possesses you to gulp and murmur, "—guess i j-just outsmarted you—ah! taehyun!"

[dabisbratz]

can we cam up? eren yeager x male reader

w.c: 4.3k

genitalia terms: dick, cock, hole, fuckhole, cunt (1 time), pussy (1 time)

WARNING: spit, blowjob, rimming, anal (obvi), creampie, dirty talk, humiliation, filming, degradation, humiliation, nerd!eren, jock!reader, intoxication, may read kinda dubious but it’s 100% consensual, light d/s dynamic, alcohol, weed mention, dumbification, eren compares you to a hentai character one (1) time bc he’s deranged

a/n: i was kicking my feet twirling my locs screaming into my pillow writing this and it shows. also eren has a BIIIIG phat crush on you but i didn’t wanna get too into it… you definitely remember him, probably even sexted him w/o even knowing it was him

Let’s get one thing straight: You're not an arrogant man. Not at all— in fact, you’d consider yourself to be quite humble. This night may be about you and your winning score, but you’re humble about it. Considerate, even. So you feel no guilt when you accidentally spill alcohol on someone’s shirt, explaining that if they can somehow find you on instagram and send a DM, you’ll pay for the laundry and potential damages. The stranger peers at you with a funny glint in his green eyes as his hands pull the wet fabric apart from his skin, his glasses falling down the arched bridge of his nose.

You shrug and wave to your teammates, your football jersey loose on your form as you make way through the frat house’s large interior. Music blares in your ears for the millionth time tonight, the bass rattling your skeletal system with each increasingly tipsy step you take. Grinding, flushed bodies invade your vision, all around you as you shimmy through the sea of bodies to pour yourself another generous shot. Cool, blue rays of strobe lights dance and flicker across your eyelids. Warm, pink rays that caress your cheek like the confines of your safety helmet, the vinyl of your mouth guards. It overwhelmed you at first, so bright and unapologetic as your eyes adjusted and focused.

Somewhere beneath the tranquil hum of alcohol flowing through your veins you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket, rippling through your skin and sobering you up just a little.

Your girlfriend.

She’d been blowing up your phone all night, something along the lines of forgetting her gift for your anniversary— what was a few weeks, anyway? — and how ungrateful you were for yours. She was a good lay, a quick way to resort to getting your dick wet on particularly lonely nights; when you couldn’t stand the sound of silence dancing around your head. But that was all.

You shake the thought of her squawking voice the second you find Connie, surrounded by sorority girls with glossed lips and pink-tinted eyes. Finding solstice in his company, they’re huddled relatively close, knit together in some sort of baked clique. He’s perched over a bong, lighter in hand as he inhales the fumes with muffled haste. Pothead.

Your hand finds the crown of his head, palm nestled in the bristles of his buzz cut. Noone is allowed to touch Connie’s hair, at least not when he’s coherent enough to stop them. It usually ends in flying fists and bruised cheekbones, but all the man sends your way is a hazy glare. Someone punching the university’s all star just isn’t a good look. Especially when he’s pretty and popular with the public.

“Do that again and I’ll throw this bong at your head.” It’s an empty threat, clear of malice and slurred on Connie’s bitten lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” You steal the smoke exuding from his mouth, swishing the fog in your mouth a few times before blowing it back into his face. “Never again. Scouts honor.”

You shoot back up, mind reeling and posture straightening as a particularly pretty cheerleader hands you a bottle of something you can’t quite make out. It’s brown and rich though, smacking against the glass as you take a swig and chase it down with Connie’s leftover beer of all things.

One thing leads to another and suddenly you’re trapped between sobriety and full on plastered drunk. You remember chugging something sickeningly sweet, despite it leaving a harsh burn in the back of your throat as you took in a deep breath of victory. There were many eyes on you, loud cheers reverberating off the walls as you’re hoisted into the air for your skillful performance and high-fived by your frat brothers. But there are those green eyes again, staring straight through you with a look you can’t quite place.

Not that you can place much. You’re shitfaced.

He smells good, you later discover. There’s a strum of wind as he pushes forward and straight by you, weaving through the crowd like he’s invisible. The swaying of bodies— the sight is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, and it makes his head swim while liquor glides across his tongue, clumsy and inexperienced. He must not get invited to parties often. Or maybe he does, and you’ve just never noticed him.

He’s quite nerdy, some sort of graphic design on his stained shirt that resembles that of a video game or cartoon logo, and a poor excuse of a beard litters his chiseled jaw. And oddly handsome, pale face flushed from the alcohol, pink and pooling at the apples of his cheeks as he stares at you expectantly. But you’re not into men, and all the shots in the world couldn’t get you to even think of advancing with one. He quirks his thick brow in passing, settling back into his seat with a depleting mumble you can’t make out under the loud music.

But the alcohol paired with the sultry music-choice is doing things to you, you can’t help but stare longer than you should when he swallows down his adams apple, throat bobbing as he downs a fruity drink. His tongue darts over his lips, quick and steady as he nods along to the bass. You’re thinking with your dick, pushing past the batting lashes of cheerleaders and curvy bodies of sorority girls until you’re uncomfortably close to the guy who won’t stop looking at you.

“Do you- do you have a staring problem?” You ask, a slight slur to your voice as your face leans in close enough to count the nerd’s lashes individually.

Just to reiterate, you’re not arrogant. In the slightest.

He jumps back in response to the evasive question, strands of hair falling over his glasses as his emerald eyes roam your face. The lines are blurring now, his nerdy, almost irritating face looks kissable and inviting— his parted lips look warm and skilled. You can smell the pineapple on his tongue, sweet and citrusy.

“You heard me,” You hiccup straight into his face, watching his gorgeous features distort into something not even remotely akin to disgust, which makes confusion rack your brain. “Do you talk, or what?”

Your tongue is sharp, much to Eren’s chagrin. You’re too pretty to talk to people like that, especially him. He may look the way he does, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to him like that. It’s not like he can’t recognize a brat when he sees one. Usually, you’re a bubbly team player— everyone likes you, even if they say they don’t. Still, he shakes his head, humoring your drunken irritation. He understands, at least a bit, as he has a natural temper of his own.

Truthfully, Eren has been keeping his eyes on you for the past millennia. It started when he accidentally walked in on your practice, a sunny day that simply got brighter when he saw your face, cheerful and bright as you joked along with your teammates— Jean, Reiner, Levi? Was it? It didn’t matter, his focus was on you.

You and your sinfully tight compression shorts. You and your hands that curl into fists as you grasp at his sheets like a lifeline, as if holding them tight will somehow keep him inside of you, right where he belongs.

You and your stupid football that’d smacked him right in the face at full speed. But it was in his favor, you came running over apologetically as he rubbed away the blooming bruise. Your voice was sweet then, a melodic chirp that he couldn’t stop thinking about since then. He wants to hear it break.

It seems you too always meet at the expense of his dignity. But not tonight.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Eren grunts, sliding his glasses back up his nose and turning his head away. His glasses are fogged up, but it might just be saving his pride. He’d rather not get hard in front of the person he’s been fantasizing about for the past few months, not when you clearly had no recollection of him. He doesn’t blame you. “My bad. I’m not, yknow, stalking you or anything.”

“Oh, because staring for hours and stalking are very different things,” You’re staring at his lips now, ignoring the vibration in your hand. The second your phone screen lights up you slam it face-down into your front pocket. There isn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice, like his response is calculated and open-ended. “What if I like that?”

Your eyebrows wiggle, even with the mind splitting sensation of your brain beating against your skull. Almost as hard as your heart hammering in your chest. Eren’s scoff is barely audible over the music, but the comment has his heart racing.

You pull him in by the collar of his t-shirt, fists bunched up in the dark fabric as your lips press against his. It’s feverish and sloppy, your teeth occasionally grazing his own. His mouth is hot and wet, fruity essence on his tongue as it slips past your lips and into your mouth. You’ve never had a kiss feel this good. He nips at your bottom lip, pearly teeth digging into the skin until he feels you make an embarrassingly high pitched noise in your throat.

There’s a twinkle in his teal eyes as his posture straightens, slowly leaning back to catch a breath of fresh air (as fresh as it can get, anyway). You watch him readjust his position, lifting his hips instead of his actual body, practically rutting into the thickening air as he shifts. His bubblegum lips curl into a lazy smile as his fingertips circle the rim of the red solo-cup he’s been drinking from. “What if I like you?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Your phone just doesn’t shut up, does it?” There’s clear agitation in his voice, his arched eyebrows furrowed as your feet carry you somewhere much more secluded. Eren trails behind you, his eyes glued on the mound of your ass as you walk. He has to help you occasionally, without even knowing the layout of the place, just so you don’t fall over. The light shine of your phone screen emits across your hip, and he can see the contact of whoever it is that’s so deeply desperate for your attention.

Too bad it’s all on him.

“I’m a pop— popular man.” You finally respond, shutting the door behind you to what Eren assumes is your bedroom in the frat house. It’s between two other bedrooms and across from three more, with a sizable closet that holds more trophies than clothing.

“Can see why, pretty mouth like that,” The words slip before he can think, but it’s worth it to see the way you oh, so conveniently hiccup in response. The implication of you being some type of campus whore makes your throat feel tight, and you can’t help but twitch in your tight pants. “Talks a lot of shit, though.”

“You talk too much.” Correction: he doesn’t talk enough. But you shut him up with a kiss anyway, hungry and frantic because whatever this is, whatever you feel when you look at him, you don’t want it to end. His hands travel under your shirt, cold from his previous icy drinks, and you squirm under his palms. He spreads goosebumps across your skin, and when his fingers brush the bud of your nipples you can’t help but jolt where you stand.

A malicious grin snakes across Eren’s face, all teeth and predatory as he runs his tongue over his sharp canine teeth. “Been thinking about fucking you for weeks. The whole time we were talking, all I could think about was shoving you down on my dick.”

Oh. Your cock aches at that, which is almost already too much for you, you’ve never done this before. Not with a man, not with someone who looks at you like they’re going to devour you whole. You swallow hard, alcohol dispelling from your body the more blood rushes south, and suddenly you’re on your knees, unbuttoning Eren’s jeans with trembling hands.

The door locks behind you, a small click that only the two of you can hear. You look back up at the nerd, who’s watching you intently with a smirk.

He’s a complete juxtaposition to his appearance— if you were a bad man you’d call him a loser, but he exudes dominance and power. You want to wiggle under his gaze, shifting your weight between knees. Eren’s large hands cradle your face, oddly tender and affectionate as he rubs your cheekbones, slowly sliding them to the sides of your head. He lifts your gaze, forcing eye contact.

His glasses hang low on his nose, clouded from his breath as he lets out a satisfied sigh. You want to pull on his hair, flyaways barely reaching the base of his neck as the rest remains in a ponytail.

“This okay?” His tone is beyond sincere.

“Yeah,” You breathe, momentarily losing yourself in the forest of his irises. Blinking rapidly, Eren removes his hands from your head to free himself from his jeans, his long cock decorated in a small vein that disappears below his head. It’s pretty, arched against his stomach and dripping onto his shirt. The leaking precum makes you wonder how long he’s been hard. “Yeah. This is—this is more than okay.”

“Open,” It’s more of a command than anything, Eren’s very hands on, his fingers slipping into your mouth to pull at the corners of your mouth. Your tongue covers your teeth, your mouth watering as his salty fingertips graze your tongue. His other hand is busy working at the head of his cock, twisting smooth circles over the slit until it crashes down against your tongue. Again, and again, and again. “Good boy.”

You find yourself drooling on your jersey, sucking in a deep breath through your nose as his tip rests on your tongue. He goes slow at first, letting you suck on the tip while his fist roams his shaft. You’re a big boy, he knows you can handle much more than just the head— even if he is thick. Your eyes water immediately, gagging instinctually as he shoves his dick deeper into your mouth. “Say thank you.”

Before you can pull away with an answer, both hands return to the back of your head, holding you in place. He encourages you to breathe through your nose, cooing at your inexperienced efforts to catch the drool escaping your mouth, and even goes as far as to wipe one of your tears, “Gonna thank me? F’letting you be such a good, warm n’ wet hole for me?”

You feel yourself nodding, blinking hazily as he rocks in and out of your mouth. There’s a sound you don’t recognize coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, and it has you whimpering on the mouthful of cock. You don’t mean to make such a pitiful noise, but it feels so good, letting yourself go a little brainless over a cute boy.

You slurp loudly— not on purpose, but it earns a throaty chuckle from the man above you. He pulls out to let you breathe, his cock slowly sliding up your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit. The tears in your eyes spill unabashedly, your face nearly crashing against his dick.

“Thank you.”

“Hm? For what?”

You want to groan, to bang your fists against the wall because he’s being so mean. He knows what you mean, you know what you mean. Regardless, still focused on his cock just inches away from your face, you moan against nothing. It’s a light noise, breathy and quiet but effective enough to make his cock jump. “Please, please— I mean- fuck, thank you for letting me be…yours.”

Eren tuts, feigning annoyance as he grips your chin between his fingers, digging into the soft skin so you’re actually focused on his face. You smile into his palm, eyelashes batting against your cheek and he just can’t help but spit onto your cheek.

“What, d’you just go dumb the second you see some dick?”

You’re barely listening, instead grinding against the fabric of your jeans because his touch treatment has you feeling some kind of way. “Does your girlfriend know her boyfriend’s a cockslut too? Does she know other boys spend their nights getting your holes wet, fuckin’ you in the same bed?”

It’s much easier to hear the vibrations in your pocket now that you’re alone, the only barrier between you being the muffled music on the other side of the door. Eren’s hand leaves your jaw, and you have no complaints when he helps you to remove your jeans.

The jersey can stay on, though. He wants to fuck you in it.

He pushes you into your bed, watching you bounce in the mattress in nothing but your jersey, and helps himself into solely his birthday suit. You’re just as exposed, seemingly moreso, as he pulls your bottom half into his lap. It’s an odd position, not anything you’re used to, maybe your exes and past hookups— but never you.

Eren hunches over, his breath tantalizingly close to your hole. First, he licks a fat stripe across the surface, holding your thighs open when they threaten to instinctively close. You can’t prop yourself up on your elbows at this angle, your feet dangling over his shoulders while he holds you up. The nerd is stronger than he looks.

His tongue is hot and wet, and you feel yourself clenching when a glob of spit lands on your hole. He massages it in with his ring and middle finger, and your body finds itself squirming against his touch. You expect fingers, one at first, maybe, then another. But instead he uses his tongue, lets it dip inside and lap at your insides. Eren looks hungry, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he spreads you open and holds you there with an iron grip. A punched-out “Eren!” leaves your lips the second his tongue is lapping you up, leaving tingles up your spine and smog in your brain.

He kneads his fingers into the fat of your thighs, nipping occasionally where your skin folds into your ass, just to get another choked whine out of you. And, oh, you whine. The intrusion isn’t unwelcome, in fact, the feeling of Eren’s face slick with his spit as he tries to get his tongue as deep as he can into you makes your toes curl. You fist your bedsheets, finding comfort in the pillows you’re pressed into, and go as far as to hold yourself open for the man while he goes to grab something.

“Oh, baby. You shouldn’t have,” You shiver at the sound of his dark chuckle, and squeal when his ring finger finds a spot next to his tongue. “Look at that. Hole’s leaking. You just sit here and look pretty while I fuck it on my tongue, hm? Think you can do that?”

“Mhmmm, mhm, yeah! I can— I can do that, ‘Ren.” You sound like a bitch, with your nose buried in your pillow as you moan with every brush to that special spot inside of you. Your cock jumps against your stomach, leaking into your belly button and down your chest. Your jersey is ruined, but so are you, especially when Eren rubs your cock once, twice—

Holy shit. You’re cumming.

“That’s it, come on, give it to me.” Your jersey catches it all, right over your reserved number and embroidered nameplate. Your brain is too fried for you to care, tears streaming down your face as your hole flutters on his tongue and fingers. Sensitive now, moreso than you were before, you whimper and shimmy in Eren’s lap, simultaneously moving toward and away from his touch. He keeps you where you are though, staring at your blissed out face through clouded glasses and licking his lips like he’s just finished eating the best meal he’s ever had. And as if that’s not enough to have you cumming again already, he places an open-mouthed kiss to your puffy hole just for good measure.

“You felt so soft on my tongue, fuck, I almost busted right on you,” His cheeks are pink, and the rosy shade blooms down his neck and disappears into his chest. He pulls you forward by your wrist, sucking on your tongue and licking over your lips so you can taste yourself. He’s gonna be the death of you.“Bet this hole’s gonna be even softer. Nice and warm while you take my cock. Gonna let me cum inside? Pump that soft cunt full until it’s all creamy and used?”

He’s so filthy, so unashamed. The nickname doesn’t go unheard, and despite the slutty moan that you let out in response, part of you wants to pinch him just for that. Damn Eren and his shameless mouth! But you nod anyway, an everlasting stream of ‘yesyesyes’ floating in the air as he lines himself up to finally give you what you’ve been gagging for so prettily.

Eren just can’t help himself. Not when you’re folded up and presenting yourself to him like this. Not when your eyes are wide and your lips are parted and you’re letting out such pretty sounds. Sounds that belong to him. Plus it’s not all on him, you’re the one with an unlocked phone. You’re the one with space in your camera roll.

He’s sure the camera is shaky, maybe even a little blurry, but he makes sure to get your face in it, fucked-out and crosseyed as he pounds his dick into you, keeps you steady with his hand on your jaw. A string of precum connects you together, pooling at your ass and Eren’s thighs as his hips crash down, yours convulsing upward to meet him halfway. It’s a bit half-assed on your part, but who’s gonna blame the guy getting fucked stupid?

“‘Ren, you’re,” You sob in disbelief, eyes rolling along with your hips. “You’re— ohh, you’re fuckin’ me.”

He smiles down at you, feral and heated as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. He never seems to stop, always chasing that feeling of you clamping down on him even when you’re almost too sensitive to take it. “That’s right, I’m fuckin’ you. Just how you like it, hm? Right in your fuckhole. S’what it’s there for, right?”

“That’s—“ Absurd? Vulgar? Objectification? It’s hot. It’s hot and you know it, Eren knows it, and your dick sure as hell knows it too because you can feel your next orgasm coming. “Yeah. N’my fuckhole.”

He makes a pleased sound in response, groans and pants joining your moans when he speeds up, his slow and deep strokes becoming fast and hollow, pounding that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over and over. “Should train you to take this dick.”

“Hold on,” Despite looking straight at him you can’t understand what he’s saying, not until his glasses are placed over your eyes and you’re blinking away the prescription blur. You struggle to collect yourself, wailing as you reach for his free hand that begins to nestle between your jawline and your neck. He squeezes affectionately, lets you cry and arch on his cock while he breathlessly sighs, “You look straight outta my favorite hentai.”

And, technically, you’re making a sextape now. A tape that showcases closeups of his cock disappearing deep inside you, pummeling your puffy hole until it carves the shape of his dick into you. Until only Eren can fit, big and thick and unbelievably deep. A tape that has you, a popular and well-known straight jock, crying on the dick of a guy you just met.

“Eren, m’gonna… ‘Ren—” You may as well scream, your body tensing as you spray across your chest — when did your jersey get bunched up enough to expose you like that? — sticky cum shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body ablaze. He doesn’t let up, castelon eyes narrowed as he fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, milking himself for all he’s worth. “Inside, wanna be full, I deserve it, please, Rennie.”

He bounces you a few times, watching you fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you. It’s the nickname that gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. It’s clear you feel proud of yourself for making him tremble inside you, and Eren takes the opportunity to scrapbook the memory.

“C’mere,” He’s not asking, simply pulling you closer to the camera so it can focus on your cum-stained face. “Smile for me, baby. Tell your ‘girlfriend’ how much you like it in your pussy too.”

[hinamie]

i normally don’t contribute much of my opinions on chapter content n themes bc a. i think my role in fandom spaces is that of a fanartist and I want to keep my art at the forefront, and b. I am Insecure about how little of the manga I have actually consumed and don’t think I have a solid foundation on which i can offer any coherent arguments or insight. generally I like to leave the long meta 2 people who have been genuinely invested in delving into the manga with the intent of analyzing it . y'all do gods work u are the reason i am not flying through this series completely blind

that being said, i am not here to give criticism on pacing or story cohesion bc quite simply, that is not my wheelhouse. i do, however, want to offer my 2 cents on the concept of choosing to live for others as someone who (like a lot of people is the vibe i’m getting) also struggles w depression and self-worth issues and sees aspects of themselves in megumi as a result. i want to reiterate tht this is not an analysis, these r just my gojo voice personal feelings n u r allowed 2 feel differently based on your own experience :)

let me just say first of all that I can 100% empathize with people wanting to see megumi choose to live fr himself after a lifetime spent in a system notorious fr stripping people of their agency and turning them into tools. i think in a perfect world he Does come to the realization that he’s worth living for. but i also think that him /not/ having crossed that bridge yet is also a very valid n realistic outcome. he's a kid, he's just had the worst experience of his life, he's traumatized and then some -- i only have a bachelor's in psychology and god knows i'm no doctor but personally i wouldn't call that a mental space where self-love is likely to stick

it’s hard to claw yourself out from rock bottom. to expect someone to immediately be able to make the transition from being in the worst mental state of their life to realizing that they are worthy as a person is a tall order that i honestly don't think many people wld b able to fulfil. /I/ certainly haven’t been, and living for others has honestly been what’s kept me going for a long fucking time. even when I’m not necessarily at a low point, I still rly struggle w liking myself n thinking i’m a good person, but what’s been a genuine lifeline fr me when i can't love myself is to direct that love Outwards. If nothing else I know that I have things I can create, and things I can offer others. I've spent countless hours forcing myself to acknowledge that, no matter how much i don’t believe them, if the people around me insist that they see something of value in me or in my work; something tht makes them love me Despite, then that alone is worth staying alive for.

i personally (although i can see how others wld disagree) don’t view the 'living for others' frame of mind as waiting for someone to save you, but rather as holding out hope that there is More out there than your own self-loathing will let you believe. For megumi, it wld seem that his something more was the people he cares about. Yuuji gave him the agency to choose whether or not to keep living, and megumi made that decision of his own accord, which fr someone at their absolute lowest is still a huge achievement! there was agency in that decision, there was selfishness--regardless of the underlying motivation it proved that he /wants/ to live. little side note but i think that megumi Making a selfish decision to live for others' sake should also give a bit of hope that he does have it in him to eventually be able to b equally selfish in the value he places on himself.

anyway that's what i got source: i'm depressed . n look i get that with so little of jjk left, it Is frustrating that we probably Won't see megumi come to the conclusion that he's worthy and that he should live for and love himself. but at the same time i don't think that his decision to keep living for others should b condemned either, bc as someone who has also yet to cross that bridge, sometimes that rly is the first step

[arliedraws]

Slytherin Sirius LIVES

Hey so I’m extremely stressed out and I’m avoiding election coverage, so I’m gonna post some WIPs that I’ve been writing for my own entertainment. This is an IDEA for a fic where Slytherin Sirius lives and body swaps with Canon Sirius. These will probably get deleted, FYI, because I have NO plans, NO plot, NOTHING. It also doesn’t make 100% sense. Anyway…

For a man who had completely lost his mind, Sirius Black was startled by his own coherency. Of course, it was married with a bizarre realization that his cheek was kissing the floor and his limbs refused to respond to his commands, but little by little, the fibers in his muscles began to twitch, pulsing with the electric understanding that he was not, in fact, dead.

Well, he reasoned, fighting with his eyelids to open, I can’t assume this isn’t Death.

Fingers groping at the stone floor, he traced the edge of a dais, wondering if he’d been left on some sort of altar—or perhaps resurrected onto it by a dark sorcerer in another universe. That was part of the risk of what Sirius had done. Releasing his soul from his body may have transported it through space and time into the corpse of someone’s dead lover or into the cadaver that a healing student had dug up from a Muggle graveyard as a foul little experiment in necromancy.

There murmurs and whispers behind him, carried on the whisper of a breeze.

Inhaling into sore lungs, Sirius pushed from the ground and surveyed the room on all fours. Torches on the walls cast a deceptively warm glow into the chamber, illuminating the stone steps and benches all the way up to the top of the room. He chuckled.

“Hello, old friend,” he said.

As if to greet him, the Veil breathed a rush of cool air. Or perhaps it was a farewell. It fell still again.

His body felt odd. It ached—his joints were stiff and his hips seemed to be in dire need of a stretch. Thin fingers were attached to pale hands; his gaze caught on a white scar the shape of a starburst on his left hand. Had he been dead for so long that his body had commenced decomposition? Even his wrists looked fragile.

There was a wand resting on the floor as if it had simply rolled out of his hand; he took it but nearly dropped it in surprise. It was his father’s, the spare he kept in a drawer. Rarely did that wand see the light of day, yet here it was.

No, Sirius knew that he was not dead, but this was not his world.

His heart leapt with excitement. This is his body, he thought wildly.

The other Sirius Black: the one who had died at precisely the moment required to kidnap his soul, to haul it through the fabric of the multiverse and stuff it into a new prison. Laughter bubbled from his chest. It worked, it must have worked.

Sirius got to his feet, wobbling slightly and catching himself on the archway. But I shouldn’t be alive.

He left the Ministry of Magic quickly under the disguise of a disillusionment charm, grateful to find that it was sometime before dawn, and the building was empty. It was familiar, the Atrium at night, but he did not linger. If the man to whom this body belonged was supposed to be dead, then it was unwise to reveal himself as irrefutably alive.

-

The man behind the desk handed Sirius a key and absently reminded him that breakfast would be served between 7:30 and 9:30. Following a murmured thank-you, he crossed the garish red carpet of the lobby to the stairs where they stretched up to a corridor lined with dark, nearly black doors that spanned to a small window at the end. Sirius found his room and quickly shuffled inside, locking the door behind him.

There was little to celebrate about the room that was only large enough to fit a double bed, a wardrobe, and dresser. One of those black Muggle boxes they were so fond of staring at for hours sat on the rickety set of drawers. He had to squeeze between the footboard of the bed and the dresser to cross to the window and pull the curtains closed.

Everything reeked of cigarette smoke. The ashtray was full, and he thought it smelled as if someone had recently fucked in here. Sirius couldn’t complain, however, foul though it was. He hadn’t paid for the room. The Confundus Charm had worked a bit too well on the hotel manager who had started eagerly offering upgrades before Sirius had cut him off and told him he just wanted to rest.

It wasn’t entirely a lie, of course. He was exhausted. He had spent the rest of the night under a Disillusionment Charm, wandering the streets as he waited for a more civilized London to wake up, stringing together a very flimsy plan as he explored his new world.

By morning, he had ended up in Godric’s Hollow. It was stupid, of course, because what hope had he that James Potter would like him any better in this world than the last? Yet of anyone he could think of, Potter was the only person who might receive him.

But Sirius’s stomach plummeted when he reached the cottage. The sun was emerging over the village, casting a fiery orange glow on the abandoned house and the violent ruin of the top floor. Beyond the gate, the grass and hedge were nearly waist-high, and several windows were shattered. Sirius caught himself against the gate. A sign rose from the ground and confirmed what Sirius feared about James Potter in this world.

Then, Sirius had gone to the hotel and checked in to a room and tried to think of anything other than James Potter and his murdered wife.

But the boy, he thought, pacing the tiny room. The boy’s alive.

A part of him insisted it wasn’t possible, yet Sirius could hardly judge who ought to be alive and who should be dead when he himself had no business walking around with a beating heart, pulling air in and out of his lungs.

He blasted the bed with several cleaning charms, still feeling wary as he lay upon the starchy comforter, certain that he could hear things crawling inside the pillows. He couldn’t get comfortable, and despite feeling as though he could slide into slumber, he remained wide awake. Something in his robes was poking him as well. Irritated, he pulled out a small mirror.

This time, he avoided his reflection. The first time he had seen it was in a shop window, and it arrested him to meet his own eyes. There was no denying it was his face, but it was also horrifically not. There was a hard line to his jaw and cheeks, the bones emerging prominently as if he’d been starving for some time. He might have guessed that he was underweight simply by the way this body moved, but to see so plainly the ruin of his face—

Admittedly, he wasn’t quite a ghoul or a monster, but it was not a face that would be winning Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile award. Sirius shuddered; something quite terrible had happened to the Sirius Black of this world.

It was late afternoon when he finally drifted to sleep, puzzling together his counterpart’s life as he let his awareness slip away. A few hours had gone when he heard, distantly, a voice.

Sirius groaned as it tugged him awake, threading his consciousness back to the body he wore. The sound came not from the corridor nor the closed window, but somewhere much closer as if someone were hiding under the bed.

“Sirius Black,” said the voice.

Alarmed, Sirius looked around the room, searching the shadows. All was still. Next to him lay the mirror. Sirius frowned and snatched it.

“Hello?” His voice was raspy from sleep.

The reflection of his ruined face vanished; in its place appeared a teenager. Wide, green eyes gaped at him, blinking several times as if ensuring what they saw was real. The boy’s mouth hung open in shock.

“Sirius?”

The sound of his name spoken with such reverence nearly made Sirius drop the mirror.

“Harry Potter? Is that you?”

There was no denying who the boy was—he was nearly identical to James Potter, right down to his spectacles, but Potter’s eyes filling and his face splitting into a broad grin was inexplicable. Was Potter…pleased to see him?

“Yeah, Sirius. It’s me. You’re—you’re alive,” Potter breathed.

“Yes, I am,” was all Sirius knew to say. He grimaced inwardly at his idiocy.

Then, Potter was spitting a barrage of questions at him—how did he survive? Where had he been? Where was he now? And Sirius thought exceptionally quickly. He was supposed to be dead. James Potter was dead too, but his son considered him fondly and expressed relief that he had apparently survived whatever had tried to kill him.

“Harry,” said Sirius, cutting the boy off. “I can’t talk now. It’s not safe,” he lied, casting his gaze beyond the mirror, pretending to be on alert for danger.

The boy frowned suddenly. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I can’t reveal too much. Look,” he said, quieter. “I’m not supposed to be alive. Until I figure out what’s happened, we must keep this between us, all right? You can’t tell—” He nearly said your father. But James Potter was dead. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“But Sirius—”

The relief on the boy’s face dissolved into a rejection as if Sirius had said something that wounded him. My death mattered, he thought. My death mattered to Harry Potter.

“Harry,” he said, “Listen to me. I’ll explain everything. Can you meet me tomorrow night?”

“Where? Grimmauld Place?”

“No,” said Sirius slowly. How could the boy know where his mother lived? Especially if it were under the Fidelius Curse… “No. Er—where will you be?”

“Back in Little Whinging. It’s the last day of term,” explained Potter. “Sirius, wait, is this real? Is this—is it really you?”

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek. The earnest hopefulness on Potter’s face stifled his instinct to lie. Smiling sadly, he assured the boy, “I will tell you what I can when I see you. Tomorrow night, then. I’ll come to you.”

“But the Dursleys—Sirius, they won’t like it if you come.”

“I’ll be discreet.”

[8-rae-rae-8]

I have random thoughts about the definitely real Johnny gets his own body and v gets to chill ending

I don't know how it would work but somehow johnny and v stay somewhat linked lol

It's either like

V, 200 miles away "you seeing this shit johnny?"

Or just

V sensing bad vibes from johnny from a mile away. Bro tosses him a pack of cigs before he even asks

Also I feel like they accidentally mimic each other a lot, especially v

I GET IT COMPLETELY

It only makes sense, especially for V, right? If the chip gets removed, and Johnny gets his own body, they will still have remnants of each other's code in their system. Mostly V, though, and it would probably show the most through him

I feel like they would almost always have a link open anyways. After being in someone's head for so long, it only feels right to be connected in a similar way again. So of course they'd try their best.

Even without the link, data seems to bounce back and forth. It isn't coherent thoughts, but more concepts and vibes. V is 100% tossing Johnny cigs because he felt the wave of Bad Vibes, way before another needed to be said. And Johnny's doin something similar by just getting V a little treat (soda, ice cream, etc) before he can bitch about his day

AND MIMICKING EACH OTHER IM GONNA LOSE IT /positive

They're copying each other whether they like it or not 😭

(sorry if I'm incoherent it's 4:30am)

[toffee4you]

Cuddling Headcanons (Shorter!reader)

Content: GN!reader, fluff, romance, Grim is in the specials, one mention of Lilia at the end, HC Silver (staring at his battle lines...)

Other parts: Taller!reader, Cuddling While Studying

I realized how tedious it was to find Silver content without Chapter 7 spoilers, so here's my tribute to the skrunkle 🤲

Assuming the two of you are already close, Silver's favorite thing to do with you would be cuddling. Expect it to happen very often, nearly every day if you'll allow him.

Of course, he'll make sure you're comfortable with it first. He generally doesn't care where he does it or which way, so if you just make a request, consider it granted. Want to be the big spoon? Have at it. Little spoon? Of course. He's going to fall asleep almost immediately anyways.

Just know that he'll find it a bit silly whenever you're the big spoon. It's like you're trying to hug an oversized plushie.

Despite his versatility, if he really had to choose, his favorite spot for cuddling would either be Ramshackle or the botanical garden, and he would be the big spoon. It makes him feel at ease knowing that he has you secured in his arms like a precious treasure.

If you're at Ramshackle, it's likely to be on the couch or in your room. He typically prefers the room since it's a bit more private, which means less interruptions. Plus, it's more comfortable. Either way, he'll have you both wrapped up in sheets together no matter where you are—unless it's too hot for sheets. That's when you pull out the fan and popsicles.

If you're in the botanical garden, he'll show you to the patch of grass that he usually falls asleep on. The little woodland creatures will immediately circle around you two, and he's always up to introduce them all. Rabbits, birds, squirrels... Maybe even a random deer. He calls them by their species name, but if you decide to give them your own personal nicknames, he will probably find that cute. There's not as much versatility with sleeping in the garden, but he just likes to have you resting on top of him as he's completely reclined on the mossy ground. The scent of flowers, the warm beams of sun, and the merry chirping of bluebirds will make you fall asleep almost as quickly as Silver.

He can be a bit of a sleep talker on occasion, though he doesn't move too much in his sleep. It won't take you long to discover how near-impossible it is to fall out of his arms when he's fully at rest. You'll be able to hear almost every coherent word he says from such a close distance; mostly about his duties, but never a shortage of affirmation towards you. Yes, even in his sleep. Maybe you'll even get to hear words of love if you listen close enough.

Special: With Grim

No one can forget the great housecat mage, Grim!

Grim would either be initially jealous that he's not getting cuddling attention or extremely offended by the idea of being stuck with “two lovebirds”, but either way, he'll be unable to deny how comfortable it is.

Silver is 100% fine with your dire beast joining in the cuddles. To him, it's just like cuddling with woodland creatures.

Just the addition of Grim suddenly turns the entire vibe of the cuddle to a family bonding experience. Yeah, Grim's your son now, and Silver's. This family is Lilia-improved. Enjoy.

[wovenstarlight]

Peaceful smile. i change my mind this course is fine actually

assignment so bad I'm genuinely considering dropping this course god bless

[alittlebitofloveliness]

It's Sept. 4th which is basically Oct. 31st so here's my thoughts:

Two-Bit is the only Greaser (at 18 that is) to 100% believe that there are people out there putting razors and weed in kid's candy bags. (Nevermind Darry or Pony trying to tell him that idea is stupid, why would "bad people" take one day out of the year to give dangerous materials/substances that they sell for money on the street to kids FOR FREE???) And every Halloween he hopes to be "one of the lucky ones" to get something like that in his bag when he goes trick-or-treating with his little sister and every year he's upset on November 1st.

poor poor Susie matthews got dragged out trick or treating YEARS after she lost interest because two-bit could NOT grow up fr I know he’s the most annoying older brother ever

Two-bit did not ever find any drugs, weapons or otherwise in Susie’s candy bag however he doesn’t mind too much because Susie doesn’t like chocolate and gave them all to him so hey he won anyway

I just know the first year Susie decided to go to a friend’s Halloween party instead of trick or treating with him two-bit was DISTRAUGHT he probably tried to drag pony out instead and got swiftly rebuffed and ended up sulking on the Curtis’ couch all night. The gang didn’t really know what to do. Darry tried to give him a slice of chocolate cake and two-bit almost burst into tears I’m telling you the gang was STRESSED

the year after Two-bit threw a hissy fit after seeing Susie’s Halloween costume until their mom intervened and then two bit spent the night threatening every boy in Susie’s grade not to even glance at his sister which Susie did NOT appreciate. she ended up making out with a guy two years older than her to prove a point and Two-bit nearly committed a felony. Susie Mathew’s (rightfully) told him to fuck off and worry about his own relationships instead of trying to get in the way of hers and two-bit slunk off to the Curtis’ place for the rest of the night ranting barely coherently to a VERY confused and concerned Darry Curtis

the next year Susie and Two-but avoided each other for all of Halloween. Mrs. Mathews and Darry Curtis BOTH thanked their lucky stars that night

halloween the year after saw Susie dragging Two-bit home after he nearly passed out drunk in a ditch. She never got the full story of why he went on a bender worse than he’d ever had before but she knows it had something to do with that soc girl Marcia. (November first saw Susie Mathews in detention for the first time ever, and Marcia Valentine mysteriously absent for the second half of the school day)

Susie and Two-bit avoided each other for the next few Halloweens until Susie moved out, and then two didn’t need to worry about running into her because she was away at college. But years later Uncle Two always takes his nieces and nephews trick or treating, and he always checks their candy to make sure it’s safe. If he steals a few chocolates and Susie laughs at him even as she swats him for it and reassures her daughter she still has plenty of candy even if her uncle is a dirty dirty thief, well, that’s his right

thanks for the ask xx

[idyllic-affections]

how abt hcs abt gn teen (around 15-16) reader being kaeya’s biological younger sibling !!

if we have each other.

summary. what is it like being kaeya's teen younger sibling?

trigger & content warnings. child abandonment.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst. kaeya & younger sibling!reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. anon omg... ive been wanting an excuse to write something like this again for a while! i am a professional platonic kaeya enjoyer <3 anyway i hope you like these!!! i decided not to go into the whole ragnvindr family drama thing because honestly? i go into that a little too often when i write about kaeya. i chose to give him a break today!

i see kaeya being very protective of his sibling. he's not so protective that it comes off as overbearing, but he's definitely very involved in their life only because he just... doesn't know what he'd do with himself if he let them get hurt.

given that he basically had to raise them...

it makes sense for him to be so involved. sure, he had help from the ragnvindr family, but kaeya did the most work when it came to raising his baby sibling.

when his father abandoned him in mondstadt, he also abandoned his youngest child, [name]. they were about two or three at the time.

he doesn't necessarily hold the same resentment towards the seven that other khaenri'ahns might, though he doesn't exactly lean in their favor either.

still... kaeya thanked the seven that they didn't get deathly sick (they were so young and frail that it really was a valid concern) that night in the pouring rain, despite how badly they shivered and cried. he'll never forget how utterly visceral their sobs were.

he doesn't doubt that they understood what was happening that night, despite how little they were.

because of that, kaeya doesn't hide anything from them. he tells them the entire truth about their origins as soon as they're old enough to coherently ask why their father abandoned them.

when kaeya and [name] were young, they were absolutely attached at the hip. once they're both older, they aren't seen together as much, but that isn't to say they aren't seen together; it's just that kaeya does have obligations as a knight and his sibling has their own commitments.

he loves them wholeheartedly.

if he had to betray khaenri'ah to protect them, archons know he'd do it. if he had to betray mondstadt to protect them, archons know he'd do it. he doesn't care as long as it means they'll be safe.

to kaeya, they are probably the most precious thing he has—ever since his falling out with diluc, at least. well... they were always his most precious thing. after his falling out with diluc, it just made them moreso.

part of the reason he despises those who threaten others' families is simply because of his sibling.

he does not take threats to their safety lightly, not at all.

kaeya's a very good brother overall, but he is 100% also the most annoying mf.

he's the type of older brother that makes his sibling do things for him and then guilt trips them when they tell him to do it himself LMAO

i feel like he can cry on command and does it just to make them feel bad when they tell him no!

you know that "i'm hungry. grill me a cheese" audio? yeah.

Kaeya: I'm hungry.

[Name]: So lick that coat, you smell like a—

Kaeya: Grilled cheese.

[Name]: What????

Kaeya: Grill me a cheese.

[Name]: I'm not grilling you a cheese!

Kaeya, sobbing on the floor:

[Name]: ...Oh, for Barbatos' sake.

kaeya, as protective as he is, is also very laid-back. his sibling has just about as much freedom as they could want (within reason, of course).

kaeya, his sibling, and klee are a chaos trio. the three of them have lit a concerning amount of things on fire.

he's very physically affectionate!

ruffling their hair, leading them along by the dip in their back, shoving them (lovingly)... he's clingy, really, and just likes being able to touch his sibling because it reminds him that they're safe and alive.

if they ever wanted to become a knight, he's right there to support them. if they wanted to become an adventurer, again, he's there to help them out.

whatever they want to do with their life, he's their greatest cheerleader.

kaeya will always support them, but he's also very tough on them when it comes to training them physically if their aspiration demands physical strength.

they want to be a knight? an adventurer? a traveler, perhaps? alright, but they need to take him down in a fight first.

he makes every duel with him the hardest fight of their life.

kaeya needs to be confident that they can effectively defend themselves, and if he isn't? sorry. they aren't going anywhere until he is certain beyond a shadow of a doubt. he needs to know they can handle themselves, because—as much as he hates to admit it—he may not always be there to protect them.

wouldn't it be interesting if they got a vision while in a duel with him?

that'd be a very fascinating twist of fate.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!