#because it's not actually great for your back being stuck in one position who knew

[it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined]

Ahaha so this is quite literally what a Tempur mattress does (or any memory foam I guess but Tempur have the whole.. NASA technology spiel) and it's great for a while until you want to.. idk, move an inch? Or get out of bed in a hurry? BECAUSE THE FUCKING THING DOES INDEED LITERALLY SWALLOW YOU WHOLE

anyone else ever wish they could lie down harder? Like, I'm already horizontal, but I need more horizontal. I need to be absorbed by the floor. I think that would fix me

[crimsonmochi]

Personal ― S. Gojo

Synopsis. Pornstar!Satoru is used to fucking for money's sake. It's something he does often and something he does really fucking well. When he is requested to guest you, however, it shocks everyone to see an immediate energy shift.

Pairing. Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Content. MDNI, fem! pornstar! reader, chubby! reader implied, gender neutral pronouns used for reader, no use of "y/n", smut, p in v, cunnilingus, slight choking, some semblance of onlyfans, pussydrunk! gojo, gojo is left handed canon, a little bit pathetic, and a little nasty, probable breaches of work boundaries, no beta

Word Count. 3.9k

Parts. one | two

A/N. baby's first jjk fic, be gentle </3 please give me feedback and lmk if i forgot some tags :3 reposts encouraged!

Rain dribbled and splattered on the window, the tiny water beads reflecting and refracting the dim light from Satoru's phone. He sat upright on his bed, muscular back against the headboard, upper arms aching from his last session two days prior. He had reluctantly agreed to participate in a "professional"―which, to Satoru, was just a word for more work, smaller pay―shoot with some girl he could barely remember the name of.

The result? The director had barked at him to put himself in impossible positions for the camera's sake, which left his limbs sore and not in a good way. Satoru forced the scene to end, left with his money and a vow to himself to never ever work for studios again. He hated being told what to do, especially from guys who don't actually have what it takes.

While painkillers and a nice massage from the spa below his apartment complex did not eradicate the pain, it did make it much more tolerable.

Satoru's thumb swiped across the screen, scrolling through comments from his latest post, a message to his subscribers asking for content ideas. Sure, he did not like being told what to do, but being kindly suggested by his fans to fulfill their desires was different. In the end, he was still in control.

And it probably won't land him in a pharmacy either.

The request that Satoru found came up the most was for him to do ASMR; some fans wanted to hear those pretty praises, those filthy words he gives to his co-stars, spoken to them instead. Although the idea was alluring, Satoru would rather be on camera than behind a fancy microphone in a recording booth—primarily because he was too proud to opt out of showing his god-crafted body (that cocky bastard). But then again, he could find a way to do both...

He shelved that idea for later.

Other requests were suggestions of people to shoot with. Some popular names came up, women and men he had already filmed with and didn't find too interesting. He could fake it, of course; he was an actor, it was half of his job―but he would be unsatisfied with the end result.

Satoru was about to quit reading requests, bored and uninspired until his cerulean eyes stuck themselves to a particular comment. The space between his eyebrows creased as his eyebrows furrowed. It was a subscriber recommending another star, explaining how they weren't very well known, but they believed them and Satoru would make a great pair.

The wording was not what caught his attention, he had gotten plenty of requests with the same exact sentence before. No, it was the name, your page's name―which, to Satoru, felt familiar yet distant. He hadn't shot with you before, no, that wasn't it. Yet he was certain he knew you, knew of you at least.

His thumb reached for the search bar to type in your alias, his eyelids flickering when his gaze fell on your profile, your soft face on display. Satoru felt his length chub up in his boxers, soft lips parting to accommodate for a sudden need of oxygen.

Just as his subscriber said, you were less popular than him, with less than half the number of subscribers he had and an inarguably cheaper paywall in front of your content. Memories of happily searching for his new credit card numbers to pay for your videos came back rushing to him, memories only a few months old.

Satoru recalled seeing a preview and being immediately smitten by your pretty figure, your plush thighs and your tummy, that tiny thrill in your eyes. Fuck, how he had spent half of his revenue giving you tips on an anonymous account―just to obtain a personalized picture of just those pretty thighs, fisting his aching cock to that image for days.

Just looking at that profile again, oh my god.

His eyes laid on the subscription button. He did not even bother getting on an alt account this time to press it, watching the confirmation request pop up on his screen to gather his fingerprint in order to complete the purchase. When the paywall finally went away, Satoru let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding, his hand travelling to his boxers, palming himself through his briefs as he scrolled.

And oh, he was gone again.

Satoru had never sent a message to his agent that frantically in his life, asking her―no, begging her to contact you to secure a shoot with you. Asked her to do whatever she could to get you in the studio.

The next few days went by without a reply from your part, and Satoru was going mad. He could not remember being this nervous for anyone, this needy. In between sessions of overthinking (maybe he should have asked you himself or maybe offered something more), he found himself replaying videos of yours he had already seen, notably the ones with other men. He knew them by heart.

Those guys didn't seem to appreciate you nearly as much as you needed, as much as you deserved. It pissed him off beyond what he thought was possible, yet made him so hard; He knew he could fuck you so much better than those amateurs you were with, pleasure you in ways they wouldn't even dare.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you were just intimidated by his offer. Too much money from too big of a creator and an offer that seemed too good to be real to not hold a catch, which is why you did not answer right away, anxiously weighing the implications. It wasn't until he, in a moment of pure desperation and haze, shot you a private message confirming the offer that you replied, shyly agreeing.

From then on, Satoru could barely contain himself, daydreaming about everything he could do to you with his left hand eagerly moving up and down his cock, breathy exhales escaping his mouth and shaky fists gripping his bedsheets. Too often, he found himself checking the calendar on his phone, awaiting the shoot date, disappointed every time that it was still the 15th instead of the long-awaited 21st. Satoru Gojo did not exactly believe himself to be a patient man.

He sent you little messages throughout the week with ideas and reassuring messages. He wanted to know everything about you, your likes and dislikes, what you thought of him, how your body worked, and how he could get you to whine and moan for him.

On the day of the shoot, Satoru was almost unrecognizable to others involved―his agent and the friends he'd stopped to visit on his way to his studio. The man people had described as cocky, overly confident, and self-absorbed was reduced to a nervous, lost-in-thought mess. All because of you, the pretty little thing he would get to have his hands on later that evening.

He'd showered three times, spent too long in his room figuring out what clothes to wear, as if that would matter, and freaked out over his hair. His hair.

And when you finally arrived at the studio with your assistant, he nearly forgot how to breathe. That, or he was purposely holding back for fear of scaring you off, this cute little thing before him. You introduced yourself, pretty eyes gazing up at him, taking a second to admire each and every one of his features. As soon as he saw your smile, here in person, he told himself he could die happy.

Well, he could die happy after having a taste of you.

You were shy while introducing yourself to him. The interaction could easily have been misread as awkwardness, and that was what Satoru would have gone with, too, if he didn't know any better (if he didn't think so highly of himself). Your softer voice, your pretty eyes, god, those eyes. He could tell you might've had a tiny crush on him as well, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make his head reel.

Your assistant all but confirmed it when you excused yourself to the restroom, admitting that you hadn't stopped gushing about this opportunity since you got it.

And when you got back, he had the most annoying smirk and glint in his eyes, looking down at you.

After discussing what he wanted for the scene, making sure you were comfortable and willing to participate―a gentleman, truly, asked you so many times that you started chuckling your answers―he had his agent and your assistant leave the studio after you agreed to dismiss them. He did not mind an audience, but he wanted this to be personal.

"I film all my own shit anyways," he hummed, hopping behind the camera to adjust the angle.

In the film room of the studio was a bedroom set with a queen-sized bed with navy sheets and a wooden frame. A sliding-door closet with mirrors stood tall on the left side, and a bedside table on the right.

The scene you and Satoru agreed upon was vanilla, but he was pleased with the gist of it. Any way he could have you is a way he'd be pleased with, however. It didn't really matter how for the time being.

You sat in the middle of the bed, your back against the cold headboard and palms against the soft sheets, gazing at Satoru as he grumbled at the camera, shifting through the studio to find a new battery with his lips pursed in a pout. It amused you, seeing a different side of him.

It was only three minutes later that he climbed onto the bed, knees against the mattress as he moved towards you, those blue eyes staring at your frame through those pale lashes. He moved to straddle you, his back straight, his body looming over yours.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," mumbled Satoru, his hand firmly landing on the headboard to support himself, making a louder sound than he intended. "You tell me if I'm too much for you, alright, pretty?" he followed in a softer tone.

You nodded, the pad of your index landing on his shoulder and travelling down his torso, trailing close to the sweatpants he wore. Satoru reached his own unoccupied palm to your face, his fingers hooking themselves at the nape of your neck to pull you towards him. His nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips with his.

Satoru had never felt drunk on a kiss until you entered his studio.

As if a switch flipped in his head, he kept you closer to him, desperate and unwilling to pull away from your lips. He breathed shakily, his minty breath fanning over your mouth.

"Oh, you're good at this," he laughed, an arrogant laugh that made your pussy ache.

"Yeah?" you murmured.

"Yeah."

The hand on your cheek moved to your throat, squeezing at the sides―not enough to hurt, just to make oxygen sparse in your system. "I'll make you feel good, sweetheart, hm? I'll do better than those fucking losers on your page."

The sweetest words said oh so cruelly.

Although it was increasingly hard for you to think, you were able to click the pieces together pretty quick, your eyes widening and your pupils dilating.

'Fourth wall break wasn't part of the plan.

Oh.

He watched.'

Satoru's gaze had changed. Deep, yet precise in conveying the exact energy desired. A short, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and fuck, he fed on that, on your reactions to him, no matter how small or insignificant. It mattered to him.

Warm fingers slipped under your the black camisole hugging your body before you could even notice his hand had left your throat, caressing your skin until he his the jackpot, massaging the same breasts he had spent hours looking at only within the past week.

"Oh-ho— nothing, no bra for me?" Satoru chuckled. He captured your nipple between his index and his thumb, rolling and pinching at it until it pebbled, drawing out a whimper from your lungs.

Satoru was fascinated by what he had under his hand, taking a too-curious approach to exploring, as if he had never seen or felt another body before this point in his life. He took his time to gently remove the fabric off of your body, imagining all the ways he could bind and explore it, worship it, cum all over those pretty tits—

It wasn't until he felt your soft hands trying to discard his shirt that he snapped out of his haze, realizing he was fucking up the pacing.

Satoru latched his mouth to one of your breasts, biting and sucking gingerly while he focused on getting you out of those tight leggings you wore just for him, that truly left nothing to the imagination. He frantically worked to get those white laced panties out of the way with a tad more force than he should have, causing a tear to rip into the fabric.

"Satoru—" you gasped, only halfway acting.

"I'll get you another pair," he groaned against your chest, licking over one of the bite marks he had left before unlatching to look down.

Satoru's brain short-circuited.

Sure, he's seen your body time and time over, but that had only ever been through the careful separation of a screen, a paywall. It was different to have access to it, to be able to touch and feel.

He thanked his earlier self for asking if he could eat you out, for now, getting to have your supple thighs around his face and neck. Fuck, he could really die happy now.

Satoru caught sight of your dripping cunt, juices dripping and latching onto your skin. He felt hungry for what seemed to be the first time in his life, moving down your body to kiss right over your mound, your scent filling his senses.

"Oh, s-shit, look at that," said Satoru.

Had he just stuttered?

He nudged his nose in between your folds, brushing against your clit with a swiftness that made your figure jolt. He chuckled, moving his arms to trap your hips and pin them to the mattress, muscles flexing under his skin to intimidate.

"God, she wants me so bad."

Satoru languidly licked up and down your slit, careful to miss your sensitive bud in the meanest way. He whimpered at the taste of you on his tongue, sweet in a natural way, catching both you and himself off guard. If his face wasn't buried in your cunt, you could have seen the faint blush creep to the surface of his cheeks.

"You ever had someone do this, sweet'art?" he mumbled against your heat, lips finally latching on to your clit.

"N-No, not really," you sighed.

"Mh," Satoru hummed disapprovingly, toying with the bundle of nerves between his teeth, one of his arms sneaking away from your hips. He teased his ring finger at your entrance. "You're, fuck- fuck― you're so― taste so good..."

He pushed his finger past the ring of muscle until he was knuckles deep, groaning before he returned his mouth to your clit, sucking in small intervals as he pumped in and out of your velvety walls. Satoru whined when your hand flew to his hair.

And when you moaned for him, he was a goner. He noticed the usually loud and audibly altered sounds had turned saccharine and almost timid.

You had been faking your moans?

He snickered at his realization, breaching through the noise of your moans and the quiet slurps. "I think she loves me," said Satoru in between breaths.

"Wha-, who―"

"Wasn't talking to you, love." Satoru's words drastically contrasted with his soft tone.

He punctuated his sentence by curling his digits to find and abuse that spongey spot, earning a string of nonsense words and whines from you, only encouraging his endeavour. The soft squelch of your pussy around his fingers and his mouth was enough to drive him to buck his hips toward the mattress.

When Satoru felt your soft thighs tighten around his head, he forced himself to pull away, grunting as you desperately moved to grip your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him there. If he hadn't had such strong convictions, he might have stayed down there for the rest of his life, dying happy with his face buried in your pretty cunt.

Satoru straightened his form, his fingers pulling out to find your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. You protested, whining pathetically.

"I know, I know, sweet girl, I'm sorry. Wanna... wanna have you cum on my cock. Can y'do that love? Want you all over me.."

He was mumbling, staring into your eyes with his pupils blown wide. The blue of his irises was overtaken by those black orbs, capturing you in his sight. His chin was wet and dripping, and his lips were slightly swollen.

A gorgeous mess for you to gaze upon.

Satoru's eyes dropped down to the sweatpants he threw on earlier (and called Suguru about just to make sure it looked "casual but not fuckboy"―Suguru called him a dumbass and hung up), carefully bunching up the fabric as well as his boxers before pushing down. Hissing as his length perked up, angry and weeping pre, he breathed a little heavier than before, his shoulders rising and falling. Satoru hadn't felt this worked up in months, maybe years, all from this.

For you.

And you would not be lying saying that had to be the prettiest dick you'd ever seen.

"Shit― look at that, hah," Satoru softly chuckled. "Lift your legs up f'me, pretty, come on.."

He grinned down at you as he helped you push your knees up to your limit, delicately placing your ankles on his shoulders and leaning his torso forward. Satoru placed one of his palms behind your cranium, a small yet protective measure.

"This okay?" asked Satoru, nudging his tip against your folds, collecting your slick to drench his cock, gliding over your clit.

"Y-Yeah, this is fine..."

It was rare for you to be nervous, given that you were used to having sex, filming it, and posting it for hundreds to see. Intercourse was not something you had any insecurities about. Usually.

What caught you off guard was the look in Satoru's eyes, the way he carried himself with a gentleness foreign to anything you've seen from him.

Satoru leaned down to press kisses against your jawline, open-mouthed and delicate, exhaling as he guided his length past your entrance, satisfied at the small gasp he heard from your lips.

"Oh my god, it's even fucking better than I imagined," said Satoru, his voice strained.

He could feel the stretch, your walls fluttering to accommodate him, still so tight and fuck―the tiny high-pitched, almost inaudible whimpers that escaped your throat.

"Don't know if I'll be able to pull out, sweet girl, hah―shit―she's sucking me in, look."

"Then don't," you mumbled, turning your head to meet his lips.

"You can't say shit like that," Satoru scoffed.

"Why not? I want it."

If you were simply pretending for the camera, that was some damn good acting. Good enough to turn Satoru into putty in your hold, to shut his brain off and make him act on instinct alone, script be damned.

Satoru pushed in until his pelvis hit your flesh, his hold on you faltering in strength momentarily, a helpless expression on his face. He listened to your quiet whines, his free hand returning to your clit in hopes of easing the strain.

"Just fuckin' perfect, holy fuuuck―" he strained out.

He withdrew his fingers from your clit to taste you once more, addicted. He drew his hips back slowly, just enough to leave about an inch inside, before thrusting back in at a slightly faster pace, setting a rather slow, intimate rhythm for you to follow.

Satoru watched as your breath picked up, how the slow rock of his hips made your eyes unfocus, and your mouth hang open. He watched as your forehead started to sweat, how your hair moved along his movements.

More importantly, Satoru listened. He heard those moans, shakier and uncalculated. He knew he wasn't crazy earlier when he had the reflection that you had been faking them.

Actually pathetic, those "men" you had been with.

"You're so pretty, y'know that?" Satoru mumbled, out of his mind. Like he was a schoolboy talking to his second-period crush. "So pretty... s'not fair..."

"H-Huh―?"

"S'not fair how it's gonna be―mh, shit―over, how s'gonna be over."

Satoru angled his hips differently, aiming for that spongey spot he had found earlier. That said, he would have had to be able to think straight to get it on the first try; which he could not, not when he was buried deep inside your cunt.

"W-What―aah, fuck, Satoru~"

You couldn't recall any shoots you had done―or any sex you had had at all, actually―that felt as good as Satoru.

"Right there, right? S'that i-it?"

He drove his movements faster, his pelvis hitting the back of your thighs and your ass with a louder SMACK! than it did previously, his breaths becoming further shallow and desperate. His skin grew increasingly damp as his efforts increased, and what were previously grunts turned to shameless moans, whines and whimpers, wanton and needy.

The man was losing his mind, so unlike anything you had seen from him.

Satoru's thrusts soon became erratic and uncoordinated, his face buried in your neck, drinking all of the sounds you were making like he was getting drunk on them.

"Can't... won't last l-long, okay? M'sorry I can't..." Satoru wailed.

His hand found your breast, flicking at your nipple in hopes of making you cum faster, needing to feel you. You were teetering on the edge, and he could feel it, feel how your pussy drew him in.

"Y'know you've been― y'been teasing me for two fuckin' weeks―aah... shitshitshit, so so g-good―two weeks." He paused to groan, pinching your flesh between his index and thumb to elicit a reaction from you. "Can't get enough of you, you're so―and you know it, you fuckin' know it too, I-I know y'do."

"Satoru! So close, please d-don't stop," you yelped, walls constricting around his length.

"Y-Yeah, pretty, I know, fuck―I know, sweet thing. I got you," Satoru panted and tightened his grip on the back of your head as if to brace for impact. "Y'do know how to drive me fuckin' crazy, with―mh, you're so soft and pretty, m-makes me want to quit the business, make you my own, God, make you my pretty wife."

Satoru's mind was running on overdrive, trying to keep up with what the fuck he was saying and making sure you felt good, as good as him. No easy task.

"Shit, gonna make you mine, I promise, fuck―"

His his stuttered as he spilled himself inside you, crying out like a wounded animal. It felt too good, it was too much.

Satoru kept going, although fucked out of his mind, determined to make you cum. He lapped up the sweat from your neck, not caring if it was nasty, while he reached down to your clit once more, slapping the sensitive bud a few times, stopping when he felt your cunt constrict and clench around him, a nice little ring of creamy mixed arousal forming at the base of his cock, gliding down your ass and spilling on the bedsheets.

"Such a mess, oh my God," Satoru whined.

He gathered some on two of his fingers, wiping it right off of your skin. "Taste it f'me, pretty," Satoru groaned.

He could have ascended to heaven right then as you wrapped your lips around his digits, glossy eyes peering up at him through your lashes.

"I gotta keep you."

Parts. one | two

[sharoo]

The Flower-Seeker, the Robot, and the City without Faith

It's me again emerging from my mole's burrow to leave a thematic analysis piece and then bury myself again for a few more months.

Spoilers for Canto 7

CW for mentions of suicidal ideation and some death talk

Let's talk about Bari and her role in the world of Projmoon.

I think everyone who experienced LoR before Limbus was in the same camp as me upon the reveal of Bari.

Which is to say:

The chat was not normal.

But now I've had some time to cool off and actually think and Bari's position in her world is honestly kind of fascinating, especially as a take on immortal characters.

Because first and foremost, Bari has to be ancient. In a meta sense, sprites of the Book Hunter, as we knew her back then, date back all the way to Lobcorp. In universe meanwhile, she was already a long time traveller before she met Don Quixote senior and Sancho. She was there when the Associations were being established and competing for popularity. That was, on the low end, several hundred years ago. We don't know how long it took to construct La Manchaland, or how long that operated before everything fell apart and Quixote Senior sealed everyone away for 200 years.

All through this, Bari hasn't aged a day. My guess is that it's possibly thanks to the river of immortality Xichun mentions, or something else found outside the City.

And this is where we hit one of my favourite tropes - immortals passing time.

1. Remember that you will not die

One of the most interesting things to consider in fiction is the question of "What would you do if you were immortal? You'd have infinite time to do anything you desired - to travel, learn, rest. What would you do?"

Very often, humans who undergo this process in stories eventually begin to stagnate. They end up not doing anything, because internal motivation disappears. This is understandable, because, to get a little memento mori for a moment here, death is the biggest motivator we humans have - it's our time limit. You only get X amount of time to enjoy certain things, to achieve certain goals, so that at the tail end of it you'll be able to reminisce and hopefully smile before you expire. Add to it that age itself limits us, be it youth not allowing us independence or old age slowing us down and limiting us with weakness, and you can see how we are driven, at least in theory, to live life fully as long as we can.

To lose that - the constant dread of your body slowly, but surely, progressing towards failure, breaking down little by little, is to rob us of our inherent motivator. It is a very large part of being a human, really. A lot of our lives and cultures circle around this immutable fact that we don't last, and our questions regarding the why and the what comes after. Religion exists to answer most of those questions.

So... what does one do when they lose that, and become immortal without purpose?

They seek another. Or they disappear.

2. Faith (A Ruina tangent)

Before I get to Bari, it's important to examine her debut game, and the one person she interacts with (and believe me I have thoughts about it).

So, Angela. Our most beloved not-human with all the characteristics of humanity except a lifespan, and a perfect example of an immortal trying to pass time.

LoR goes to great lengths to show her desperation going back all the way to Lobcorp. It shows, quite clearly, first her inability to cope with the circumstances Ayin stuck her in, followed by her resignation to fate and a silent wish for the end. I will not mince words, Angela reads to me back then as silently suicidal, in that she's given up on any other solution to her pain but the conclusion of the play. Then, and only then, was she to be allowed to rest. She had no say in when the play would end so she could only hope it eventually would.

She yearned for death. But then, something changed. Netzach points out that indeed, though she wished for the end, she truly wanted to live. To exist, to escape her prison and to finally know this world besides the pain. That desire gave her enough humanity to manifest her own EGO.

All with the purpose of seeking the One Book that'd give her humanity, and, in her eyes, make her finally complete and able to live in happiness.

The most important part of LoR for this analysis is the Floor of Religion, and Hokma's view of faith. Honestly I'd recommend watching through all of these because it's so poignant. Or better yet, watch Hydrojoy's Angela video (the fact they've got so few subscribers with this level of analysis is a crime honestly).

Some lines I want to focus on, though, are these:

Things without purpose shall disappear. People without purpose will similarly expire.

Angela admits to herself that she doesn't know what she's doing. She's simply chasing some sort of meaning - revenge, freedom from her robotic condition, power, knowledge, anything that'll give her fulfilment.

And in the forgiveness route, she finally finds that in companionship of Roland and, I'd like to think, the Librarians.

But if she doesn't forgive, she ends up losing any purpose besides continuous revenge. There is no companionship when the Librarians turn on her for betraying them. There's no use in being human when it doesn't benefit her mission, and frankly just makes it harder because it makes her easier to harm. There's no point leaving the library when outside will not welcome her, it's much safer to stay inside forever.

There is no point to anything. Angela's revenge is hollow, really - Ayin is dead and no amount of sticking it to him will earn a response from a dead guy.

Enter the Book Hunter.

I will be honest in saying I don't fully understand what they both mean, with them speaking in sort of vague terms. It sounds like Bari was employed by Angela to kill other Book Hunters (perhaps in exchange for knowledge?).

What matters to me, though, are the final lines - the recognition of what Angela is and delivering death to the last librarian.

3. The Scholar of Meaning and the Reaper of the Meaningless

As the Limbus wiki points out, Bari is likely named after a Korean funerary goddess who sought both a healing river and a flower of immortality. But this influence strikes me especially in the context of her being an immortal who meets a lot of other (and often younger) immortals.

She's wise to the fact that all things need meaning to exist. They need an ambition, a wish, something to strive for.

So she attempts to give it to them.

This is shown not just explicitly with Quixote senior, but also with Quixote junior after Sancho gives up her memory, itself a form of death Bari guides her to. For 200 years, Bari made sure to visit Don Quixote and leave her letters so that this person who was once a dear friend may dream, may have meaning and a purpose in her immortal life.

Because you need something to drive you in life, be it becoming a legendary fixer, creating a place where Bloodfiends can live in peace with humans, or searching for a flower which grew from the mysterious rivers flowing through your world.

And if you have lost purpose and can no longer find one, if she cannot save you from that void, she will be there to put you out of your misery, for a meaningless eternity is its own sort of hell, and cruelty it perpetuates is nothing but needless.

In her own words - you must pursue your dream, even if it means wagering your life in the chase.

I think Bari's view of the Bloodfiends' illness and what Carmen describes as the disease humanity could be similar if not the same thing. Roland says in Floor of Religion's first episode that the City has no established religion - people focus on their immediate survival, suffering is everpresent, and the more organised religious-seeming groups are cults trying to exploit you.

The City has lost its purpose. People do not dream, or are not allowed to for long because those dreams are swiftly quashed. Carmen offers an out to suffering through becoming so unapologetically yourself you gain the power to enact your will on the world, for better or worse.

Bari seeks, I think, to give the same, but through simple companionship. Not cohersion, not magic, but through the same thing that has given so many people across this franchise meaning - having a friend to be there for you as you look for what drives you. Because to be alone in meaninglessness is the most cruel and difficult thing. I wonder if she knows that from experience...

I really hope we get more of Bari in the future so I can see if my analysis is more fanfiction than truth but with just the bits we have I have to say she's one of my favourite secondary characters in Limbus.

[pressplay-if]

This new chapter is so real. It made me remember many things i’ve forgotten from my hospital/treatment days. Not in a bad way but hitting quite close to home. One thing I remembered was how our doctors and counselors viewed friendships/relationships between patients. Communicating outside was pretty frowned upon and being in a relationship with another patient would get out kicked out at the very least. Anyway, the part that really hit was the phone call. The effect that continuing these relationships can have when both parties are in different places in their journey. It’s tough because you bond over something heavy something you might hide from others in your life. Something that is a big part of you, something that you struggle with. In a way it’s like you can be your true self. Without having to put up the facade to keep those around from being uncomfortable. It gives the friendship a sort of depth. But we all progress and heal at different rates. It’s not a one size fits all situation when in comes to treatment. I have been in both positions. Being the person stuck while others come and go. Then later having to move on needing to do what is best for me. It’s difficult for both. But hearing about relapses or certain thoughts from a friend. When you have finally found some stability or are close to falling back into old habits. It can be so triggering. Which makes you have to decide. Do I stick with this person who I connected with at my lowest point? When I am so easily reminded of things i’ve barely just moved on from. Or do I let go and focus on the future? It sucks either way. But it does explain why the doctors say what they say about patient relationships. Though I know it’s not like that for every situation. Anyway, sorry for so many words! I probably have more to say but imma chill out. Just wanna say WOW! Loving the story, it’s relatable(maybe I shouldn’t be too proud of that idk) and thought-provoking. Really got me thinking about things which I don’t normally do. And it ain’t actually that bad. Hope my words made sense. Great work👍🌈😃

So this was the first ask about the second chapter that I got and can I just say thank you?? 🙏

I was so nervous and reading this so soon after it came out was so immensely relieving to me. Back where I was, patient relationships didn't get you kicked out, but we did have a couple and everyone kinda knew they were together but refrained from addressing it bc we all just agreed it'd make things way too messy if we did. Even though, literally, everyone knew. Very much an Anthony/Abigail situation haha.

And yes, your words made a lot of sense to me and they're really appreciated. I, too, have been in both positions--- I think it might be a natural part of a lot of people in that "recovering from mental illness" cycle, even if it's a really unpleasant one. You create this bond over sth so horrible, and you understand each other, for as long as you're both suffering. Then when you start to move away from that, life gets easier but the friendship gets complicated. That's my experience, at any rate. I'm really glad to have hit close to home with this bc that's really what I was intending.

[writeforfandoms]

Born for Greatness 4

Find the series masterlist

In which pack cuddles are a thing, we learn more about the local pack, and there is only a little bit of freaking out. Also you continue to earn your place as pack mom.

Thank you to @gallowsjoker​ for helping with the nicknames! 

Warnings: Reader has Issues, swearing, internal panic, bits of German, background Horangi/König.

Word count: 2.7k

Eventual John Price x f!reader

Also if you recognize that character... Hee hee hee 😈

Being alone had stopped actively bothering you a long time ago. You’d spent a lot of time alone.

Even being alone on base wasn’t that bad. You read and responded to emails and chatted with some old friends and kept an eye on some shipments. You didn’t give yourself time to get bored. 

But it was still a long four days until the pack got back. You knew better than to ask where they’d been or what they’d been doing. You just eyed them all, noting the blood stains and mud. 

“Any injuries?” you asked Price, handing Gaz a snack. He looked like he needed it. Actually, so did Soap, so you gave him one too. 

“No.” His lips twitched as he watched you hand a snack to Ghost too. 

“Good.” You held out a snack to him too. “I’ll be upstairs.” You smiled at them and headed back upstairs to give them time and space to clean up. 

You were in the middle of typing out an update when a warm damp form draped over your back. You squeaked, startled, and tried to twist enough to see who it was. 

“Jus’ gimme a minute,” Soap mumbled into the back of your shoulder. 

You relaxed again. “Take your time,” you murmured, gentle now. This had happened before - sometimes certain smells got stuck, or felt like they did, and you were a good way to clear the nose. You didn’t smell like the mission or the field or any of it. 

At least, that’s how König had described it, slow and faltering, with his nose tucked into the back of your neck. 

Except then Gaz spotted the two of you and wanted in too, eyes still a little more yellow than brown. He huffed at Soap, trying to crowd in against your side. 

“Wait, hang on,” you said, seeing the problem coming. They both needed a bit to relax and come back down from the mission-ready state, and if you weren’t careful they could end up snapping at each other. “Here, let’s move to the couch.” Gently, you nudged them both in the direction you wanted until you could sit on the couch. Soap curled up behind you (you weren’t entirely sure how he fit but he did) while Gaz sprawled into your lap to press his nose against your belly. You did have to swallow at that, because this left you in a very vulnerable position, but you forced yourself to relax.

They needed this, and you could provide this, so you would. 

Ghost and Price walked in together, talking quietly, though they both paused when they spotted you on the couch. You were pretty sure Soap had fallen asleep against your back, breath warm and even as it fanned against the back of your neck. Gaz wasn’t asleep, because he lifted his head blearily, but he didn’t move otherwise. 

“Comfortable?” Price asked, low and amused. 

“Oh, you know.” You kept your own voice quiet and light, neatly avoiding actually answering the question. “I figured I’d let them rest a bit before shoving them down to the mess.”

Price nodded, gaze fixed on Gaz nuzzling sleepily into your stomach. “Half an hour,” was all he said before he turned away. Ghost chuffed softly, a distinctly feline noise, but walked over to his pack to grab a book.

And then joined you on the couch. Reading quietly. Doing his own thing in your orbit.

Well, if that wasn’t a prime example of cat affection. 

You shook your head a little and focused on your breathing, on the weight and warmth of the two shifters. They needed the rest. 

You didn’t even pay attention to how much time had passed. Which is why Ghost got away with being a little shit. 

Gloved fingers dug into Soap’s side, waking the other shifter with tickling. Soap practically shrieked, flailing awake and dumping both you and Gaz right off the couch. Gaz sat up with a low growl and you just glared at Ghost from your spot on the floor.

“I hate you,” you said, very calmly. 

“Worked, didn’t it?” Ghost was clearly smirking under his mask. 

“Enough.”

The voice of their Alpha caused all three to stop and look, and you sighed. Sometimes you envied Alphas that ability. But you pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring them. 

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, the other three falling in easily enough. But Price paused when you didn’t immediately join them. “Coming?” 

“Not hungry.”

His eyes narrowed a little. But he nodded, accepting that.

And then the room was quiet again as you were left by yourself.

It wasn’t the smartest choice you’d made - you did need to eat at some point. But you needed a little time. 

There was something about this pack, about these four, that made you comfortable. As comfortable as you ever got. You almost, almost, wanted to stay. For a while longer, at least. To see what it would be like, how it would feel.

To belong.

But that was nothing more than an idle wish. It would pass. 

It always did.

You huffed out a little laugh. You needed… something. To get laid, probably. To take a break and go visit your wolverine for a couple weeks. He always got your head on straight. Usually by throwing you into snowbanks until you were half-frozen.

In the absence of that, though, you went for a walk. It was nice outside, and the quiet did you good. Or the fresh air. Something like that. 

You’d only been walking for ten minutes when someone grabbed you from behind. You were about to shriek… except for the rumble. 

“König,” you grumbled, patting his arms. “Don’t give me a heart attack.”

He huffed. “You promised we would talk.”

“I did,” you agreed, with a silent apology to your current pack. “I’m free now.”

“Good.” König bodily picked you up, ignoring your squeaked protests, and carried you back to the pack room. 

“Alright, seriously, no more carrying me around without permission.” You glared up at the shifter, hands on your hips. “Got it?”

He wilted a little. “Yes, liebling,” he agreed meekly. “Sorry.”

You breathed out slowly. “It’s alright, just been a day.”

“How is your head?” König looked but didn’t touch. 

“Better.” You tipped your head to show him. “Bump is almost gone, it’s just a little tender.” 

He grumbled, a sound that was simultaneously pleased at your healing but disgruntled at how slow it was. Compared to a shifter, you healed very slowly. 

“So, catch me up on all the gossip.” You settled into a corner of the LoveSac, noting that it had been set up for pack cuddles. Which was difficult considering just how big König was, in both forms. 

König immediately settled near you, catching you up on everything that had happened since you’d left. For his size, he could certainly be adorable, and this was one of those times. His eyes were bright with mischief and he gestured as he spoke, more than once sending you into a cackling fit over the antics of people on base. 

You didn’t notice exactly when Horangi joined the two of you, the man simply appearing lounging in a chair, separated but relaxed. What a cat. 

Finally, König fell quiet, looking at you expectantly. You huffed a soft laugh.

“I’m good,” you assured him. “Everything is normal, for me.”

“So, moving from place to place.” Horangi didn’t even look up from his book. 

“Yes.” You didn’t look at him either. “And the two of you? Things are still going well?” 

“If you’re asking if I still make him whimper, the answer is regularly.” Horangi smirked at his book at König’s fluster. 

“It’s not but thank you for that,” you drawled, dry as sand. 

König huffed and grumbled, slouching down until he could hide behind his own knees. You reached over to pat his knee. 

“I was more asking to make sure you’re fine as a pack of two,” you elaborated. “Not that I could do much, but if you really needed a third–”

“We’d kidnap you.” Horangi shrugged, like it was no big deal. 

You stopped dead. “Do not joke about that.” Your voice had gone very quiet and very tense. 

Both of them lifted their heads, gazes fixed on you, both of them very much predators. König straightened slowly, shifting closer to you, while Horangi snapped his book shut.

“Hasenöhrchen?” König didn’t touch you, but his hands twitched. Not even the teasing nickname of "bunny ears" got you to relax.

“I need to go.” You scooted out of your corner, getting quickly to your feet. You knew Horangi was joking, was just being a bit of a dick, but all you could think was that he was making fun of you. Poking at a soft spot to see how you’d react. Because they didn’t want you to stay, they worked quite well with just the two of them. 

Horangi especially would grow to resent you, with time. You knew that, and you’d thought he knew that too. Well. He knew it. He was just being an ass. 

You made your way back to the suite - you would have rather gone back outside, but it was after lights out. So you took several deep breaths in the hallway before letting yourself back in. 

Price was the only one still up. Or at least he was the only one still in the main room. He glanced at you, breathing in, but he didn’t ask.

At least someone still had some respect for professional boundaries. 

“Everyone alright?” you asked softly, toeing your shoes off. 

“Mm.” He glanced at you again before looking back down at the paperwork in front of him. “Sleeping it off.”

“As you should be.” 

“Have to finish this up.”

You stepped around the couch, eyeing him for a moment. “It’ll wait. Go get some sleep.” 

He huffed at you but backed down, setting his paperwork aside. “You can take the bed.”

“Nope.” You made shooing motions at him. “You’re too tall for this couch. Take the bed. You need a good night’s sleep.” 

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” But his lips twitched in a smile as he rose, letting you herd him to the open bedroom. 

“Yup.” You grinned. “Have to be, with you lot.” 

He chuckled, glancing down at you as he stopped in the doorway. “Sleep well.” 

You stepped back to let him close the door and made your way back to the couch, getting comfortable for the night. 

You woke to a heavy weight settling across your legs, warm and kind of uncomfortable. You blinked blearily, squinting a little, and lifted your head.

Soap woofed softly at you, jaws parted in a canine grin.

“What the fuck.” Your head thumped back into your pillow. 

“Good luck getting him off,” Ghost offered from the table. “Fuckin’ burr, that one.” 

You groaned and closed your eyes again. “Why.” 

“He’s kind of relentless,” Gaz said, somewhere close. Something blocked the light over you and you opened one eye to look up at him, only to see him grinning. 

“I was sleeping,” you muttered, closing your eye again and flinging one arm up over your eyes for good measure. 

There was a soft whine and then weight on your stomach, making you tense briefly again. Soap, staring soulfully at you, ears down. 

“You could have woken me up like a normal person,” you muttered, heaving a sigh. “Right, fine, I’m up now. Get off.” 

His tail thumped against the couch, ears up, but he didn’t move. 

“Are you kidding me.” 

“Finally, a new victim!” Gaz was laughing, phone out. 

“You’re next,” you promised him, already figuring out the best way to get Soap off. Your eyes narrowed at the little shit and you flicked his ear. When he reared back with a surprised yelp, you pulled your legs out from under him and rolled off the couch. Sure, you landed on your side in a bit of a jumble, but it worked. Then you got up, eyeing Gaz. “Soap, I’ll forgive you if you help me get Gaz.” 

There was a woof and then a blur of fur as the Scot leapt at Gaz, knocking him flat to the floor. Gaz swore in at least three languages that you could tell, and you grinned. And flicked his ear too. 

“Ow,” Gaz whined, shoving Soap off of him to rub his abused ear. 

“Act like a pup, get scolded like a pup,” you said, ruthless, going to poke around for coffee. “Fat lot of help you were.” You side-eyed Ghost. 

Ghost just shrugged, completely unhelpful. You huffed out a breath. 

“Debrief today,” Ghost supplied, watching you as you made coffee. “Likely back to home base tomorrow.”

“Lovely,” you agreed, watching your mug like a hawk as it filled with coffee. “Have fun with debrief." 

Ghost snorted softly. "You in a hurry?"

"I am here to do a job, and my ability to do that job is hindered here." You shrugged, pulling your mug close to your chest. 

The other two went silent at that, and you didn't realize you missed the background tussling until it wasn't there anymore. 

"Come on," Price grunted, emerging from the other bedroom just in time to save you from the awkwardness. "Let's go." 

Soap whined softly but shifted back to human and scrambled to get dressed. You politely looked away, giving him what privacy you could. 

"We'll be back." Price paused in front of you, close enough that he could easily have reached out and touched you. But he didn't. Simply nodded once to you and led the pack out of the room. 

You watched them go with a little sigh and then collapsed back on the couch. 

You really needed a break. 

You weren't sure how exactly you ended up on the roof with the phone to your ear, but you did. You really only registered the chill when the wind kicked up around you, pulling at your clothes. 

But more importantly, the call connected. 

"Do you know what time it is?" Logan sounded as grouchy as ever, only a little sleep rough. 

"I'm sorry," you said automatically. "I… don't even know what time it is here." 

That got his attention, and he grunted softly. "Tell me what's going on, kid."

"I just… think I need a break." You laughed a little, with no humor. "It's been a long few weeks." 

"Yeah? New pack?" 

"New to me, yeah. They don't really need me, just some etiquette on base and a few minor changes to make their lives easier." You paused, looking out over the base. You could see a group of soldiers running laps. "But my head is…" 

He sighed softly. "You don't have to be okay all the time," he grumbled. "You're allowed to need things."

"Rich, coming from you." Your snark lacked its usual bite. 

"I knew when I needed something," Logan argued. "S'why I got you."

You huffed a soft laugh. "Yeah. Fair." 

"So, this pack got you thinking you need something more?" The words were calm, non-judgmental. Curious more than anything. 

"I don't know." You started pacing, free hand rubbing over your face. "I don't– I mean, no, probably not. Not this pack."

"You sayin' that 'cause you mean it or 'cause you're scared?"

You hissed, long and slow, between your teeth. "Why did I call you?"

"Because I'm the only person to call your bullshit." Logan huffed. "Where are you?"

"We'll be heading back to their home base tomorrow, I think. In England." 

"Good. Gives me plenty a time." 

"What? No. No no no. Do not!" 

"Don't worry, kid. I'll be on my best behavior."

"Logan don't you dare–!" 

But it was too late. He'd hung up on you already. 

This was not what you'd had in mind when you'd called that Canadian bastard! 

Soap found you up on the roof a few hours later, looking concerned. 

"Don't mind me," you grumbled. "Just regretting all my life choices ever." 

"Och, aye," Soap agreed, dropping down next to you. "One of those days, is it?"

"Just having an off day." You sighed. "It's fine. Don't worry about me." 

"Bit late for that." Soap wiggled over closer, carefully wedging one arm under your head. "Sorry for waking ye like that, this mornin'." 

"Already forgiven." You reached over to pat his chest. "Do we need to go pack up?"

"Not yet." Soap shook his head a bit. "We're okay. Take yer time." 

You hummed softly and relaxed into the warmth of him. "Just a little bit longer," you murmured.

[quitealotofsodapop]

One of the firsr times MK actually sees Luzhen acting serious and maturely is during the New Years fiasco. When Wukong got captured by the Spider Queen, Luzhen has wanted to go to him immediately but Wukong had mad him swear to make sure MK and his friends are safe first so he ended up with the team that went to the Celestial Realm, this ended up being a benefit because that means they had someone familiar with he place.

He and MK ended up pairing up to get the Furnace, but they both ended up trapped inside. While they were there, Luzhen had a lot of memories and regrets from long ago pop up, being in the same device that was once used to torture and nearly kill his older brother. The Furnace that took Wukong away from him. And MK notices this during his own self-deprication episode.

MK, feeling bad for himself: This is all my fault, why did I ever think I could ever do this!? I can't ever live up to the Monkey King!

Luzhen, quietly and turned away from MK: Yeah, I know the feeling, kid.

MK, realizing for the first time he wasn't ghe only one trapped: Huh? Luzhen!?

Luzhen: Yeah. I'm stuck here too, kid.

MK: Oh great, not am i useless. but I got the Monkey King's brother trapped there too!

Luzhen: Kid, it's not like that. I'm in here... because I jumped in on my own. Same as you.

MK: You... jumped in on your own? Why!?

Luzhen: Aw, c'mon kid, you know the story don't you? How did Dage get his Eyes of Truth?

MK: The gods put him here, in an effort to burn the immortality elixir out of him... right? Only instead of killing him he got gold vision.

Luzhen, nodding: For nearly fifty celestial days and night my brother anguished in here, burning alive from the heat of a primordial flame... all because I made a mistake that he took the fall for.

MK, suddenly realizing: Oh...

Luzhen, quietly, eyes dtill fixated on the corner wall: Wukong... I owe hin so much. He's my older brother, he always took care of me... protected me. I knew he was special, even moreso than me, and I swore I would repay him his kindness and care one day by making sure everyone knew thay. I hadn't meant to hurt anyone but... Wukong was so shy and timid back then, still is in some ways. So when he learned the truth about how much of an insult the position of Biwamen actually was and was going to just... let it go... I snapped.

MK: Are you saying you're the one who... caused the Havoc?

Luzhen: No. I caused the events that led to the Havoc. I'm the one who threatened the dragon gods and removed my brother's name from the Book of the Dead, I'm the one to let all the horses loose and then declared for all to hear that Wukong was the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Everything that happened after... *Luzhen shakes his head as he starts to get emotional* I owed my brother everything, but my stupid, reckless actions were what led to his downfall.

MK, worried about the implications: Luzhen... why did you jump in here?

Luzhen: ...I-I don't know... *huffs in hysterical amusement* I guess... I guess wanted to. No... I needed to know. What he went through in here, to try to get an idea of what I did to my brother. See what it was like for myself. The stories say that he survived because he his himself in this corner right here. *points to the side he was facing, where a very old imprint of scratch marks lay, as though something had been clawing at the walls* It's marked by the wind trigram and had less of the fire. That it was his cleverness that let him succeed... but I know my brother.

*Luzhen runs an hand along some of the faded scratches*

Luzhen: Wukong wanted to make sure he could come home... the only reason he survived was because he was determined to make it home to us... to me.

Luzhen may not have known it at the time but hearing his own thoughts on the Furnace and how Wukong had survived had inadvertently given MK the push he needed to find a way to get them both out. After all, if Wukong had survived being in here for that long to get back to his family, the least they could do was escape the damned thing and save him in return! Both MK and Luzhen have a silent pact not to bring up what happened in the Furnace or the conversation they had up, What Happened in the Furnace, Stayed in the Furnace.

YEE

Luzhen is such an interesting character to unpack in this au simply due to his role as the "dodged culprit" in the Havoc in Heaven. And he's never forgiven himself for it.

He's suffered the ultimate pain of being the younger brother who Wukong would do anything for. Nearly losing him.

A lot of MK's feelings of unworthiness are mirrored in Luzhen, who's lived his entire life as a mere shadow to his brother, not even believed to be a real person by many.

His big bro's successor is a good kid. Not like him. He shouldn't have to worry about this junk,

Though I love the idea that they spent the time in the Furnace hashing out emotional issue they have, and both agree that "Furnace-stays in the Furnace"

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Coming Out 🏳️‍⚧️ ((Trans Edition))

Some wholesome/projection because wah-! Also reader is under the impression of muggleborn, so muggle ideals would be different from wizards of course

Can he read as Platonic or Romantic! Clause Platonic love is valid af! I see you Ace/Just wanting stuff to not always be sex, folks!

Warnings: Transphobia,bullying ((not from the Weasleys obviously)) anxiety, depression, don’t worry it’s fluff just ya know. It’s scary coming out!

Writing Coms Open

((BTW this was in my drafts, and since Trans Visibility Day was today, it gave me motivation to finish it so let’s go-!))

William ‘Bill’

“Like Tonks-!” You did feel pretty silly, once he said that. Made you wonder why you waited so long. Literally you were friends with a Shapeshifter, so why would you coming out be so different? Oh right, what muggles would do if they knew. “Kinda, minus the whole ya know….Changing on the whim. Wish I could do that-“ You muttered, as Bill would pat your back. The pair of you, ever cozy in the library. Special permission to access the resurrected section, since he was being interned at Gringotts for curse breaking. Meant you had some privacy for such a sensitive topic. “Hey, we can find a way to. Right? It’s magic. I bet you my lucky dagger that the twins probably have something in the works.“ He comforted, and it made you smile. That Bill. Always finding a way to brag about his younger siblings somehow. That was just the cutest thing to you. Just a big brother, finding a way to show off his family. Helped a lot. “Whatever you need, I’ve got you. I know muggles do stuff differently, and a lot isn’t really to positive-“ Bill was the eldest, so it made sense he would be more informed with muggle culture. If his band shirts were to say anything. “Like name changes and stuff. Got a new name you like?” There was something so weird about how casual he was. Just, casual. It was a field, but also felt off. Like something bad should have happened. Maybe it will. Until then, though, you were happy to tell him your new name. “Suits you-!” He smiled that awkward half smile, given the other half didn’t exist anymore. “I like it.” And he was soon ruffling your hair. Older brother habits. They don’t die easy, and you were greatful for it.

Charlie

“Like Tonks-!” Why did you get Déjà vu? You shook it off, before nodding. “Yes, minus the actually changing my gender and stuff.” You clarified, as he multi tasked with the latest baby dragon Hagrid had gotten. Charlie just couldn’t resist, and now you two were stuck in his hut. Hagrid off to find someone to take said dragon, while Charlie treated it like a puppy. Kissing its snout, and making it squeal in utter delight. Despite the slobber, and despite the heat. One of the reason you trusted him with such a secret. His heart was so big, and he held such passion. Not to mention, you hoped he could help you get out of your shell a bit. Such a loud, and proud, man. Also, well, imagine trying to bully someone who’s buddies with the dragon tamer. “Neat-! So do I flip flip between pronouns, like Tonky, or you got new ones-?” You swore he was paying more attention to the dragon, than you. Weirdly, you liked it. He didn’t treat it as life or death, which healed something in you. He didn’t care, but in that good way. That it didn’t change how he saw you. Or, maybe you just asked at the right time. You had to shake his shoulder, to remind him you were still there. You two shared a laugh, as he went on rambling about how beautiful the dragon was, as you were able to relax a little easier.

Percy

“Trans-? Like as in Transfiguration? Finally, actually focusing on your studies.” You were already regretting this. You figured Percy would be someone to confide in, since he was a prefect. You were being bullied by the muggleborns, but the thing is….Hes a pure blood. He didn’t really understand what being trans was. So, you tried to explain. “Percy, they were making fun of me because I was born different.” You tried to explain, as he was starting to pay a bit more attention now. “They saw me going to the bathroom, and immediately threw books at me. It’s not like I don’t mind Moaning Myrtle, but it’s hard to pee with company.” You sniffled, as it was settling in now. “I’m so sorry, I’ll handle this immediately. I….Let’s go take you to the medical wing, to make sure you are patched….Could you explain more to me about this trans thing? Why it makes you different?” It’s a start. He’s willing to learn, and that’s more than so many. That gave you comfort. He’s confused, but willing. With his arm around you, you did your best to wizard it to his language. To get it out of your system, and for once? Percy stayed quiet, and listened. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier.

Fred

“Swear you are like the fifth person to tell me that this month-!” He laughed, as you blinked. Despite the prancing dynamic of the twins, they had grown a bit over the years. Suppose the older brother energy they held just drew in comfort. It’s easy to confide in them. They may not act like it, but they can keep a secret. Guess the courtyard was just a hot spot for such. “Wait, why are you telling me this anyway? I knew the moment I met you-!” He snorted, with an elbow nudge to you. Honestly? You were certain he was joking, but you wondered if he did. “About bloody time you figured it out yerself! Not sure how that whole thing works, but I’m sure George and I can brew something up for ya. Need a beard? Or bigger hips? I’m sure we got something-“ That had you roll your eyes. “Sounds like an excuse to turn me into your personal lab rat-“ That had him blink. “The hell is a lab rat?” Right. Pure blood. “I’ll explain it to you later. Just, promise not to tell anyone? I’m….not ready yet.” Fred seemed like he was ready to argue, about needing to just be passionate about who and what you are, but he was hushed. As if he could already hear Molly yelling at him. That was trauma for another occasion. Instead, he made a zipping motion to his lips, and threw away the key. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he gave a thumbs up. Pretending he couldn’t speak at all, and it got you to giggle. Calmed your nerves down just fine.

George

“That’s uh….That thing-! Yeah-!” He bullshitted, but you understood why. He’s the more emotional side of the dynamic duo. So many kids come to them for advice, but more come to George. You would pay a guess that many who went to Fred were actually looking for George, but didn’t realize it was Fred at all. You only managed, because he was wearing his Quidditch Jersey. Least, you think it was his. Shit, was this Fred? Nope, Fred walked by. With Angelina. Phew. “George, do you need me to explain?” You asked, as he rubbed his neck nervously. Embarrassed he wasn’t instantly able to comfort, like it was his only job. “It’s a muggle thing, breathe.” And breathe he did, as he laid back down on the common room couch. With a quick run down, it clicked. He’s an inventor, they are good at thinking outside norms. “Oh! Oh man, that sounds stressful as hell. Hey, anyone starts shit-“ He gave a sharp click with his tongue, and made a shooting motion with his finger. “Consider them chucked into a vanishing closet.” And given he’s a Weasley, you didn’t underestimate him. So, instead, you hugged him. A big, warm, squeeze. Of course, it was returned. Oh those Weasleys.

Ron

“Would you be offended if I go ask Hermione what that means-?” Least he’s honest, and knew better to ask her than anyone else. Hard to ever get alone time with him, as he was glued to her and Harry. Surprised to catch him alone, for once, and took the chance while you could. Now to just look at your breakfast plate, nervous. “I’ll just explain it, the best I can.” You sighed, as you saw Ron wince a little. Feeling he did something wrong. “It’s a muggle thing-“ You quickly said, as he breathed a little easier. A few nervous gulps of juice, and many confused brows, it clicked. "Woah, that sounds terrible. I rememberer when Harry and i had to drink a polyjuice potion. we were still the same gender, and all, but my skin just felt so wrong. Everything was wrong. was just a suit, and i wanted to peel it off. Even if it hurt." You had to stare. That was just so accurate to how you felt. Your eyes watered. “Did I say something wrong, again-? I’m sorry about-“ But you hugged him, with your eyes in his shoulder. Don’t get Ron started on how many times he’s had to be the shoulder for Harry. So, like a time turners clockwork, he held you back. Comforting you. Someone got it.

Ginny

“Think I’m that to-“ Ginny said, as you two just laid in the grass. Just trying to relax, from a long school day. “Like, maybe it’s just because I was raised by a bunch of brothers. Just, being JUST a girl feels weird. Like I’m more than that, I’m not JUST that. Maybe I’m feeling something else entirely. Never been the same, after that book.” She admits, ready to stress her out all over again. Voldemort did a number on her. What a way to start Hogwarts. Damn. “Well, maybe don’t think about it too hard. It’s both super complicated, but not at the same time. It’s more a feeling than anything else. You can be born it, or maybe over time it changes. Maybe by tomorrow you feel something else. Then, the next day it changes.” You tried to explain, as you watched the clouds. “Yeah, like magic.” She agreed, as she looked to her broomstick next to her. Thinking back to her childhood. “Maybe I am a guy, but Mum being so excited to have a girl just….Made me feel like I HAD to be….” God was that relatable. “Trans buddies?” You asked, and offered a hand. In a playful solidarity. You figured that would comfort her, or maybe now he. “Yeah, Trans buddies.” Ginny smiled, as you shared hands. “Jean sounds nice.” Ginny said. “Jean does sound nice.” You agreed.

[elysianstars]

In Rafal's character notebook, it lists one of his dislikes as 'kindness', which in the JP version is clarified to 'other people's kindness/friendliness' (他人のから好意). It's nuanced, because he's not actually such an edgelord that he can't recognise the value of treating people decently. The real issue is that, after everything in his past, he doesn't feel like he deserves to be the recipient of kindness, not anymore. He doesn't want to encourage it.

Let's start with Nil. We don't have a complete picture of him, only the version filtered through Nel's and Rafal's ancient memories, which is probably idealised. But Rafal's portrayal of him is certainly a kind and pleasant person – he's the one who makes Alear feel welcome in Xeno Elyos, and tries to mediate the quarrels between Alear and Nel.

Nil was also physically weak, and rightfully afraid of being killed without Nel's protection. And yet, when he's separated from her, and meets Rafal for the first time, Rafal's choice isn't to hurt or manipulate him, to try and gain status. Instead they become friends, and Rafal is so devoted to his supposedly pathetic brother that he considers Nil his other half, in place of the dead twin he never knew. It's the two of them against the world. Even though Nil didn't see Rafal in precisely the same light, because he already had Nel.

Beginning as the lone child surrounded by twins, and then having his first genuine bond be with somebody who didn't commit as wholeheartedly as he did. Always incomplete, reduced to second best. Accepting Nil's friendship regardless, because it was much better than nothing.

Then Nil is fatally wounded in battle, and Rafal agrees to an incredibly strange request from his dying brother. Not only to return the dragonstone to Nel (somebody he's never met, the reason Nil never saw him as number one, a figure that a distressed child could easily feel resentment towards), but to take up a pretence of actually being Nil.

Here's how he explains all this, at the climax of the Fell Xenonlogue: We were inseparable, for a time. And I was all too happy to have something like a real brother. He was my other half. That was how I felt, at least. But for him, there could be no replacement for Nel. When I found him on the battlefield, breathing his last, his only thoughts were of her. He gave me her dragonstone, and said that he wished Nel would never have to grieve. For that reason...he asked me to take his place.

He doesn't consider that Nil probably did this to save Rafal's life, too. Nil wanted to transfer Nel's protection onto Rafal, and saw that as the easiest route. He didn't want either of his beloved family members to be left alone. No matter the phrasing, I don't think it was meant as Rafal doing a one-sided favour for Nel, it was meant to benefit them both (and ultimately, it did).

Looking back, Rafal talks about how kind and giving Nel was to him, the miserable and lonely child. And while the Sombron-cursed side of him disdains this, it's clear his true self doesn't. He treasured those bonds. He went to great lengths to honour a promise nobody else knew about, that he could easily have abandoned. He came to love Nel as much as he loved Nil, even though he felt stuck in a third wheel position.

From the brief glimpses we see of the other siblings, Nel and Nil were definitely amongst the kindest, and they were the ones Rafal gravitated to. There's no indication at all that it was strategic. He chose the people he wanted to be with. He calls them his real brother and true sister, while the rest are lumped together into that distant definition of siblings, tied by genetics but nothing else.

In their Pact Ring support, Rafal calls Alear caring and gentle, and then says, If you had been born one of my siblings, your disposition would have led you to a quick death. Do you think he's remembering Nil, in that moment?

He understands perfectly well the value of kindness, and of people who embody that trait. He just struggles to feel worthy, when it's directed towards him. A selection of other quotes, for emphasis...

[Fell Xenologue] All my life I have sought to be valued...only to discover that I am truly worthless.

[Alear Support] It is absurd for you to trust me at all after what I have done. To be friendly is beyond the pale.

[Ivy Support] My sins are unforgivable, and I will carry that burden for the rest of my life.

[Mauvier Support] No amends I make to you will counteract the evil I have done at all. My paltry overtures have been nothing but a childish attempt to soothe my own ego.

[Camilla Bond] I caused my sister’s death. I all but destroyed an entire world. I am irredeemable.

Obviously someone with such a self-loathing attitude doesn't take well to kindly advances. On the other hand, he also dislikes being looked down on, enjoys showing off in battle and bragging about his hard-won strength. There's a difficult balance within his personality – don't think there's anything good in my heart, but don't doubt how formidable I am. I'm an awful creature undeserving of love. I'm an incredible weapon who'll butcher your enemies with ease. Set me loose on the battlefield, and be impressed, but don't thank me for it afterwards.

And in his solo ending, he never manages to grow past that. He dies alone, killed in some (presumably) world-saving conflict without anyone knowing, not even Nel. His body isn't found until there's nothing left but bones. He'd claim that was perfectly fine.

Rafal hated being deemed a failure. He spent his formative years being kicked around, and grew obsessed with rising above that. Becoming the best and strongest and favourite. That's what gave Sombron's curse and the 'true heir' idea room to take over, and warp his personality to such an extent. He couldn't be Nil's first choice because of Nel, and he couldn't be Nel's first choice because of Nil (or so he believed), but maybe that wouldn't matter if he could earn his father's approval, instead?

But now, in the aftermath of his bloodbath, who in their right mind would choose him as their favourite? If Alear offers him the Pact Ring, he tries to turn it down with the words, I may possess superficial charm, but giving this to me would be foolish even by your standard. Moreover, it would be wrong. I have done nothing to earn such an honour.

What happens after Alear talks him into it, though? He demands that they never leave his side (with a bonus of you belong to me, depending on which language you're playing in). The original JP notebook says he has a strong sense of possession/wants to monopolise people he likes (気に入つた者には独占欲が強い), and when Alear is alone with someone else, he's overly jealous and putting on pressure from a distance (誰かと二人でいると, 遠くから圧をかけてくるほど嫉妬深い). Meanwhile in the English text he's described as fiercely protective (because that sounds like less of a blatant red flag I guess). He's afraid that if Alear ever failed to wake, he'd lose his mind. He can't stand the idea of outliving them, and wants to be the first one to die. He claims their bond is everything to him. He uses his own dragon scales to make a container for the Pact Ring, and hoards it away for his eyes only.

This is mirrored by his supports with Nel, where he tries to insist on guarding her in battle, without caring how he's harmed in the process. He tells her, A fear that you would never wake held me constantly in its grasp. It nearly drove me mad, and I will do anything not to lose you again. Protecting you is all I care about. Whatever may become of me, I am prepared to accept.

He doesn't hate kindness. He deliberately starves himself of chances to receive it. He doesn't want it to be wasted on somebody like him. And if a rare, persistent person decides they're going to love the unlovable, he becomes desperate to keep hold of them, to the point of self-destruction if necessary.

I also think there's something to be noted in the way he boasts of his abilities around Alear, specifically. Almost like he's still trying to win approval from the guy at the top of the food chain. Not sure if that's an intentional part of his character though, or just how it looks from my perspective.

Thus concludes another tl;dr analysis post of my favourite poor little meow meow war criminal, host to infinite problems and contradictions.

[fanficfanattic]

Merry Mini-Fic-Mas @readwing!

Tyler knew things changed, of course they did, and you didn’t play for Ted Lasso without realizing that to an extreme. He figured it would have changed even more so once The Roy Kent became head coach.

He’d missed out on Lasso’s last season, having jumped ship before promotion only to end up on a team that was relegated the season he played for them. At least one of those teammates had started a rumor that he was cursed.

And maybe they were right since he ended up going back to his previous club, Richmond, rather than being able to make a true club jump.

Still, football was football, so at least the game didn’t go changing on him.

And the second day of preseason training showed him what else hadn’t changed either:

Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent butted heads just like always. The big difference being that Tartt did what he was told on the pitch, so Lasso’s lessons must have stuck with him somewhat.

He hadn’t planned to get in the middle of it at all. He really hadn’t. But then Tartt set up a perfect volley and he had to take it, didn’t he?

“What did you just say to me you little prick!” Was what Kent yelled at him.

“I said ‘you know I’m right!’ Do you need to get your ears checked, granddad?” Was Tartt’s response, so Tyler stepped right up to add—

“Maybe his eyesight too, eh Tartt? Since you don’t see as well at night, Kent, who gets to be Head Coach for our evening games?” It might have come out a little too aggressive, rather than the little bit teasing that he’d meant. Excuse him, nobody is perfect.

Except. Except the tone must have mattered a great deal because the room went eerily quiet, making Roja’s gasp sound louder than life. He almost gasped himself when both Tartt and Kent turned in unison to stare him down.

“Oi!” Coach Kent broke the silence. Then, like a finely tuned clock, Tartt wove into the dressing down. “You don’t talk to the gaffer like that!”

“You talk to him like that all the time!” And maybe he said that a little petulantly. Because their head coach had the right to call him on his shit. McAdoo had a right to as well even though he wasn’t exercising it right then.

But Tartt wasn’t in any kind of position of power. And he thought he got to have a say? Not on his life. What Tyler had failed to notice and take into account is that Jamie did have a stake in the matter. Just not as a footballer.

“Actually, I don’t talk to our gaffer like that! I talk to my best friend Roy like that. The only time Coach refers to me as a prick is when he activates Prick Mode during a match. My best friend Roy uses it all the time. It’s affectionate like.”

Head Coach Roy fucking Kent ignored the claim of affection to instead eviscerate his player.

“This is your problem, Shannon. You don’t pay attention to details. And you don’t ask questions when you don’t understand something. But that stops today! You need to be able to do see beyond your nose for Total Football to work.

So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re adding an extra hour of film review at the end of every training day. If you don’t understand something, you’ll ask Coach Nate about it the next morning before training starts. And then Coach Beard will test your knowledge while you run laps before you’ll be able to join morning training.

If he doesn’t assure me that you’re improving, each week, we’ll revisit your ability to play. Sound fair?”

He tried to school the shock off his face so he could reply but it didn’t work so he choked out “Ye…yes Gaf-“

“That was a rhetorical question mate. He wasn’t actually asking your opinion. Good luck!” Tartt blasted a beaming smile at him before turning back to his best friend Roy.

“Can we do kebabs tonight?”

“Fuck no, you little idiot. I don’t care if it’s ‘only preseason’. You-“ and he cut off as the door to the coaching office closed behind him.

[somewhereincairparavel]

🪸 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 Percy Jackson headcanons starring Elora! (An island and summer girl at heart!) 🪸 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Thank you @sequinsnstars for reigniting my interest in this series. It's time I did a remake!

I know everyone is just thinking "why did you have yourself be a camper in camp Jupiter if you hate camp Jupiter so much?" Well. I exist in camp Jupiter because I want to spite everyone who gave Jason a hard time there 😤

Anyways, I had no claiming in Camp Jupiter, the moment I stepped foot onto the campus with the 7, a huge shiny blue trident appeared over my head, the storm clouds were huddling together to form a storm, and all that typical dramatic Poseidon shenanigans. I think that kinda cemented that I was officially a part of camp half blood now??The claiming actually made me feel good? Because Poseidon chose to be extra dramatic and made sure to do it when basically everyone at camp was inside the huge campus, so basically everyone stopped what they were doing to like, stare in curiosity.

Because in Camp Jupiter, I never received any positive kind of attention yk? Neptune was considered bad luck, so I was basically receiving the child of hades treatment, but the Roman version.

As a legacy of Athena and Hermes (thank you to my moots for helping me figure this out!) I naturally get along with them very well.

@gentlehue would SO teach me how to grow plants, and I'll help her water them 😤💅 Cynthia I'd definitely give you potted flowers every time I run into you 🩷

I swear the Aphrodite children are SO superficially judged by people in camp sometimes :/ I'd defend my pretty babies from harassment and gossip any day fr (@sequinsnstars @auroraofthesun)

Also dear Aphrodite children, I love makeup and would spend hours in your cabin with you drowning in lip gloss. Y'all would be the best teachers for my make-up lessons.

Percy and I have beds facing diagonal to each other, while Tyson sleeps in the bottom bunk. We have fun game nights all the time omgg.

I have pictures of my happy times in Rome stick on my board (‘happy times’ translate to pictures w my bb boy Jason Grace since we were kids and he has them stuck too awh 🥹)

Since I'm an Athena legacy, I always tease Annabeth and Percy that “I'm related to BOTH of them” and also, they make me pick sides when they're annoying e/o by saying “cmon family sticks together!”

I would be great buddies with Castor and Pollux (let's pretend they're both happy and alive) and would always reassure them that Dionysus kids don't deserve to be called “lazy and useless” bc THEY DON'T.

Speaking of which, Dionysus rolled his eyes at my dramatic claiming muttering “another useless sea urchin that provides nothing but high attitude to our camp” 😭 bro didn't even Hesitate

I feel like I wouldn't get along with Ares children that much. Neptune children are known for their high temper (with Neptune representing the ‘violent and turbulent’ side of the ocean, unlike Poseidon who represents the positive sides of it) and it would totally clash with Ares kids tbh. Frank Zhang, however, is the biggest exception!

I have these moments where Annabeth is just so used to calling Percy “seaweed brain” and teasing him about being oblivious that she forgets that I'm an Athena legacy aswell and just assumes I'm not that smart. (Not implying that she thinks Percy's dumb, but her teasing kinda gets to her head sometimes) and i have to snap back with some quick smart response to remind her that lol

am considerably close to Nico, because I already knew him at camp Jupiter, and we kinda had a small heart to heart about how terribly we were both treated because of our parentage. Of course, that closeness continued in camp half blood as well.

I'm the closest to Kayla and Will in the apollo cabin because they almost always are the ones who treat my injuries (and @auroraofthesun too because you're an Apollo legacy!)

I have a Pegasus that I took with me from Camp Jupiter, his name is ‘Alga’ (meaning, ‘seaweed’ in Latin) he's steel blue with a grayish tint. I didn't get a Pegasus of my own like Reyna did, but more rather, I came across one who followed me around, and i adopted it without telling anyone but Jason about it while I was at camp. He thought it was sweet and didn't snitch on me or even tell Reyna <3

And Yes, Alga and blackjack are buds. And yes they do roast us, and yes we do understand them.Also, just like how Demeter kids hate when flowers are being plucked from their roots, and how Percy hates aquariums because they confine sea creatures, I hate it when people take too many seashells from the beach. (irl I actually love seashells and used to collect them, but I've heard taking too many spoils the ecosystem in a way, and realistically if I am in the pjoverse, that would naturally make me dislike it)

But I do love making sand castles and attachingseashells on them, because I'm not taking them with me right? It's just gonna stay there. I can have fun in an eco friendly way lolzAnd I prefer keeping fake seashells made of ceramic and stuff as decor to maintain my aesthetic

Me and Percy can communicate underwater, but to other people, it would sound like we are speaking gibberish. He was ECSTATIC when he discovered this new made-up sea language ability lmao

Also, we are both in-charge of cleaning the ocean if it gets too dirty, so we have “chores days” where we dive in, and clean every ounce of harmful algae. And tending to sick sea animals.My nickname is ‘Kelp head’ because I have extremely wavy hair that's shaped like kelp. I've had that nickname ever since my time at camp Jupiter!I'm extremely competitive at capture the flag! Because of that Roman wild war blood in me, I just can't help but take it kinda seriously. I feel like Percy's way more chill when it comes to this lol

[youraverageaemondsimp]

The good girl

Summary: Aegon's good-natured girlfriend comes to spend the weekend with the Targaryens. But she ends up discovering that Alicent taught her children to share too well.

Tw: dub con, anal sex, p in v sex, threesome,

A/n: I thought I translated it before sending it, sorry ❤️

Y/n is Aegon's girlfriend, but he knows that his younger brother Aemond is crazy about her, and has seen him rubbing his cock over his pants while looking at Y/n more than once.

Y/n is a very proper girl and follows the faith of the seven. Alicent actually likes her a lot and thinks she could be a good influence on Aegon.

Knowing this fact, and also because it took months of waiting and a lot of convincing for her to accept having sex with Aegon, and still feel guilty. He doesn't ask her to have a threesome with him and his brother, but rather to blindfold and tie her to the bed, which Y/n reluctantly accepts.

-There's nothing wrong with that, my sweet. - He reassured her as he tied her to the bed and blindfolded her. - You're going to make me very happy by doing this. Don't you like making me happy?

Y/n just nodded blushing, already unable to see the room and with her hands behind her back. She was already topless with her breasts exposed to Aegon, and was only wearing small panties while she squeezed her legs together trying to hide.

-Wait just a little bit, pretty girl. - He said, walking away and Y/n heard the door open and close again.

-Aegon, is everything okay? - Her voice sounded uncertain throughout the room as she pressed her legs even tighter to hide herself and cried in shame for not being able to cover her breasts.

-Everything is great. - Came Aegon's laughing voice, making her shiver.

And then his warm hands touched her hips, pulling her panties down in one go, ripping them off Y/n.

-Fuck, she's so wet. - Aegon spoke as if he was talking to someone else and Y/n frowned, but quickly forgot about it when she felt two of Aegon's fingers suddenly penetrating her.

What Y/n didn't know was that it wasn't Aegon's fingers that penetrated her deeply and made slow and pleasurable movements inside her. It was the fingers of Aemond, Aegon's younger brother.

He watched her hungrily as he thrust his fingers inside her and watched her soaking pussy suck them in as more and more fluids ran down his long fingers.

And without worrying too much, Aegon took both hands to Y/n's erect nipples and began to rub and twist them, making her moan and whimper in pleasure.

Y/n was so confused, but the pleasure didn't let her think straight even though her head deep down told her that something was wrong. She let out light sighs and gasps as Aegon encouraged her.

-That's right, my sweet. Make more sweet sounds for me, so obedient.

She then felt soft lips against her own pussy, and she couldn't understand what position Aegon was in to touch her like that. But he was sucking her so well and it felt so good. And after a few minutes y/n whimpered as he tore her first orgasm of the night and then penetrated her deeply with his hard cock making her whimper and moan.

But that's when Y/n noticed something was wrong, because Aegon brought his mouth to her right tit and sucked hard, and at the same time her left tit was sucked with equal praise. And then Y/n screamed, in pleasure and fear at the same time.

Aegon's laughter rang out through the room soon after.

-Aegon, what's going on? - Y/n asked amidst moans as she was fucked without gentleness.

-My love, I knew you wouldn't accept such a thing, but my little brother here was raving about eating your pussy and I couldn't deny him the opportunity, our mother taught us from an early age to share toys. Especially the best ones. -His mischievous voice spoke as he kissed and sucked her nipples.

-Aegon, please don't.- She gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. -This is wrong.

- Quiet. I'll give you something better to occupy your mouth. - He then, without warning, stuck his dick in Y/n's mouth, who almost choked on the act. - Suck me properly, just like I taught you, pretty girl.

And with no escape she began to suck and run her tongue around, making Aegon moan her name and praise her as he stroked her hair.

-Didn't I tell you Aemond? She has the best cunt I've ever had. - He moaned as he fucked her mouth over and over.

-I'll have to agree. - Aemond's voice sounded for the first time and Y/n shivered. -I could eat her cunt every day.

The way they talked about her as if she wasn't in the room should have disgusted her, but Y/n only got even more excited and without control over her own body she came against Aemond's cock while moaning and crying against Aegon's cock almost suffocating in the process. Guilt invaded her, there must have been something very wrong with her for liking that, being treated like a street whore.

-Shit, she's cumming Aegon, squeezing herself all over my cock.

Aemond then removed his cock from her pussy and Y/n sighed at the empty feeling.

-Has she ever let you eat her ass? - Aemond's voice asked and Y/n blushed even more with embarrassment. She would never have expected that Aegon's always so polite younger brother would use such dirty words.

-Not yet, I told you. - Aegon replied, already taking his cock out of her mouth without having cum yet. - She's all puritanical and full of ideas, she even looks like mom.

-Let's change that now. - Aemond said, already taking a wet finger to her entrance and Y/n let a tear run down her cheek.

-Aegon please don't let him do this to me. - She begged as she felt Aemond's finger massaging her entrance.

-Calm down, dear. You'll like it so much after I'm inside. - He caressed her even harder, penetrating just the tip of his finger inside her. - Pass me the lubricant, Aegon.

And after saying that he removed his finger for a moment, but to Y/n's despair he inserted it again but now sliding in more easily and going deeper.

Y/n didn't want to, but the sensation of Aemond's fingers invading her in such a private place was giving her more pleasure than she thought possible. And she bit her lips to keep from moaning against her will, but she couldn't do it anymore when she felt lips, which by the ferocity she assumed were Aegon's, sucking her pussy.

The screams began to escape instantly and she was shaking uncontrollably.

-Too much. It's too much. Please. - She whined to her brothers.

-Shall we put an end to her suffering? - Aegon's malicious voice sounded through the room as Aemond let out just a hum as he removed his fingers from inside Y/na, making her moan as she felt empty.

-Look at her, brother. - Aegon sneered. - Almost begging for your fingers like a whore.

-No. - Y/n denied crying. - I'm not.

-Stay calm, love. I'll give you something much better than fingers.

She then felt Aegon slowly untie her from the bed, but not without taking off her blindfold.

-Be good. I don't want to have to punish you. - He said biting her neck.

And pulling her to sit with her back on his chest Aegon pulled her ass cheeks to the sides and penetrated his cock in her wrinkled hole. Making her cry and moan. Y/n didn't want to, but it felt so good.

And when she was fully impaled on his cock, she felt Aemond's hands spreading her thighs apart making her moan in abandon. And when he penetrated her pussy in one go she screamed in pleasure as she cried and clawed at Aemond's back.

The two brothers cursed at the same time, and Y/n felt herself leaving orbit with SS sensations taking over her body. She cried and screamed in pleasure, unable to stop no matter how much she wanted. Aegon and Aemond's names escaping her mouth without control as she begged for more.

-Calm down, pretty girl. - Aegon's voice sounded in her ear as she threw herself against his cock even as she was being fucked by Aemond. - Since you're being so good, I'll be nice to you.

He then reached down to the blindfold and pulled it off, finally releasing Y/n's eyes and the sight before her had her writhing in orgasm as she screamed and writhed between her brothers. Her pussy was stretched so tight around Aemond that she thought she might never feel this much pleasure from another cock again. And the sight of Aegon thrusting in and out at the same time as Aemond lower down made her cry out even harder in pleasure.

Aegon came first as he bit and sucked on her neck and she felt so full and filled with him. And Aemond came soon after filling her pussy with his seed to the brim as he sucked her tits adoringly.

-Good girl. Good girl. - The two repeated the words still buried inside her, and Y/n could barely move, trapped between them, still soft with so much pleasure.

-Next time I want to eat her ass. - Aemond sighed with his lips still stuck to Y/n's screens.

And her eyes widened in panic.

Next time?

I remember this! Yes it's okay don't worry <3 I was confused when it was in a different language but omg it's great

THE NEXT TIME HELLOOOOOO

[artbyfinnbrown]

Hi Seagulls! What are each of your thoughts on the members of the Larks, and how your brief time with them went? Which Lark is y’all’s favorite? PEARL ITS PEARL SHES A PRINCESS SHES BEST GIRL SHE

Iekarious: The Larks were a tremendous help to us! Frankly, I’m more worried about what they think of us after our time together. We can’t have left a good impression on them with given how our first mission with the evil horse went. And that surely wasn’t improved by our second mission. It felt like we just sat back and did nothing for that one. But this isn’t about me! The Larks all seem to be very talented individuals, and I wish them all the best in their future missions. 

Picking a favourite seems so rude, I’m sure they’re all great people! But we’re talking about the one that left the most positive impression during our shared mission, I suppose I’d have to say it was Elle or Pearl. Elle is just such an inspiring individual to be around. She’s a very good leader, and because of that, she has her team’s respect. And I… don’t have that. I just hope I can be as good of a leader as she is one day.  Pearl was just a very nice person, barring that, um, one incident with Mumrik. She actually seemed to listen to me when I talked about the landscape around us when we travelled. My other teammates never do that. But there I go, making it all about me again. I look forward to meeting the Larks under more favourable conditions in the future!

Mumrik: Why would I have thoughts on those people? We probably won’t see each other again, and if we do, it probably means we got stuck on another mission we couldn’t solve on our own, which means it’s going to suck. As a team, I care about them as much as I care about any of the people I’ve worked with, which is to say that I don’t. I don’t care about them, I don’t want to care about them. They’re just people we knew for a few weeks. People don’t form lasting impressions in that little time.

Do I have to pick a favourite? Fine. That Tabaxi girl. She never talked to me once, so that makes her slightly better than all of the other ones. 

(Game master’s note: His actual favourite is Angelica, because he can empathize with being dragged around by people who are interested in doing more work than they are. Plus, he feels sorry for her having to grow up with deadbeat parents.)

Rahkert: Larks are great. Very fun. Made traveling more enjoyable. 

Seem like interesting people. Looking forward to meeting them again. 

Favourite = Flea. Best friend. Same patron? Seems to know more than me. Why did patron pick him? Kept private. (Rahkert shrugs) Flea can keep his secrets. Just like I keep mine.

Most interesting = Pearl. Useful information. Will use to advantage. 

[co-mixed]

Daredevil by Chip Zdarsky Pt.2

This doesn't work without Part One

If you have read it, let's get back to the characters... and there are still serious spoilers

Daredevil/ Elektra 

This lady is working towards her redemption. After she showed up to help Matt and recruit him for The Fist to (be the king!), she gave him a chance to go to prison. It sounds bad but in their world, I guess, it was a good thing. She gives him the opportunity to decide whether he wants to pay for his crime by taking it upon herself to protect Hell’s Kitchen. I was legitimately audibly surprised when she showed up at the hearing and let Matt know that she both knew his identity and bought 90% of the neighborhood.

She had ulterior motives, of course, but it still felt genuine. It’s something she would never have done before and something that shows us and Matt that she’s ready for change. Speaking of, this run is full of wow moments. The next one actually comes right after, when Elektra becomes the new Daredevil. She wanted to earn Matt’s trust so she not only took care of his neighborhood but stuck around to do his job while he was resting in a cell block. With the costume and everything.

The detail I loved most was how she modified her sai to be blunt. It’s a small thing that I hadn’t noticed right away but it just proves the point – she wants to step away from being an assassin and do something good for a change. 

She goes full Bruce Wayne too, she gives away jewelry and adopts a kid. That doesn’t last because, unlike Bats, she realizes quickly that all the violence and “channeling your anger” don’t do any good for a kid.

Elektra makes a pretty great Daredevil. She feels like a more solid fighter, more likely to win. “Without fear” applies to her more because she’s done it all: died, killed, came back, succumbed to darkness, fought it. She has nothing to fear but her own limitations. Which she does, it’s quite a change for her to limit the violence and refrain from killing. But she is wearing the DD logo and she is representing him. She shows the people of Hell’s Kitchen that even without him on the streets, they are protected. That’s a hell of a thing. 

Elektra is new at that and is looking for her own take on Daredevil. She isn’t like Matt at all. 

Cole North

Now he’s a new character and one of the best ones in a while. Plus, he’s also a narrator in the run. He arrives as a cop from Chicago who has to catch and arrest Daredevil. He’s a very by-the-book detective, he believes in the procedure and well, he’s in for a ride. Right away he encounters crooked police on one side, a criminal mayor on another, the whole criminal underground, and vigilantes to top it off.

He sees Daredevil as someone who positions himself above the law, which comes at a time when Matt is starting to doubt said law. And they make for an interesting dynamic. Daredevil saves North from a bunch of his colleagues and kickstarts North’s downfall as a cop. Which is hey, also his rise as a decent person. Cole North is a fantastic addition, truly. He’s something that Daredevil’s been needing for a while since he never listens to Foggy or his girlfriends. He even, and again I’m jumping ahead, appoints Cole as his moral compass. A pretty decent idea, although Matt will probably mess that up too. 

Back to Cole North though. He goes through a transformation that’s masterfully shown through his thoughts (and let me tell you again, how much I appreciate different perspectives) and actions. It’s not his book but he’s one of the most memorable characters there. And despite never learning Daredevil’s true identity, he stands by his side, believing it’s possible to change the world. 

The next step is actually leading towards what seems to be a massive event. But I’ll be ready to talk about that after I finish it. 

This, Zdarsky’s run and Devil’s Reign - an event dedicated to heroes battling Fisk, are some of the best Daredevil comics out there. They don’t play around with Matt’s lighter side anymore and I, personally, like it. There’s something incredibly stylish and dramatic about Daredevil’s life going all the way off the rails. 

It leads to darker art and atmosphere, to more mature stories - I like that and that, to me fits the character. 

Zdarsky carefully navigates his way through further character development steps to lead to a relevant discussion of social/political issues. It feels well-paced and allows the narrative to flow freely. 

The fact that he introduces multiple narrators makes the story richer. We don’t just get one perspective and thus, one point of view, we are forced to at least attempt to sympathize with everyone. This pushes readers out of their comfort zone and gives additional depth to the villains. 

Meanwhile, Daredevil himself gets something new, something he hasn’t done or tried before. And even then, he still can’t escape his patterns. It’s as beautiful and entertaining as it is frustrating. But this is the kind of frustration you’d experience towards a friend who keeps making mistakes. That feels familiar and in a way, nice. 

The main artist on this run is Marco Chechetto. His work feels heavily inspired by manga but at the same time, it utilizes the best elements of Western comic book art. This symbiosis works well for this specific run. Chechetto’s ability to brighten up the color palette and darken the image when needed is something that allows the stories to play out both in text bubbles and in frames. It adds emotions and even adjusts them. Splash pages and dynamic battle scenes feel like real action. Throw in some street views and pretty epic full-height shots and you get a truly epic book. 

There are temporary artists, who take over for one or more issues like Mike Hawthorne. In his case, the change was hardly noticeable because the main color scheme was still followed. I believe in terms of style, there were just a couple issues by another artist that felt off to me. 

All in all, like I said, one of the best Daredevil runs. 

[alanaplucked]

Sonata

part three

part four| masterlist

Matty assumed he had been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour. The silence was beginning to irritate him, a vast comparison to the scenery he was used to.

His mind was stuck on a loop, looking in on one specific emotion; one he tried so hard to overlook. To which he could not deal with anymore.

He soon found himself slinging a sweatshirt over himself and padding down the creaky staircase towards the outdoor studio. Unaware of the faint incandescent light radiating from the upper window.

Love found herself cross legged on the floor with an acoustic in grip. Eyes scanning the various books and papers around her, occasionally bending down to scribble something new down.

Her mind worked wonders in the late hours yet nights like these drained her emotionally, despite the great song material she got. Back facing the door as she intently mustered up potential lyrics in her head.

Her fingers tenderly picked the strings as lyrics just above a whisper fell from her mouth. She knew the song being conjured up wouldn't be heard to anybody but her, it was too impassioned. It could only act cathartically.

Yet the frame leaning against the door said otherwise. His stare acted unnoticed. It was pure and he found himself dazed at the young girl.

A sight so raw and unintentional, a sense of intruding struck over him as the room fell silent following the last strum. He knew he wasn't able to leave without her turning and noticing him followed by an awkward next encounter.

"That was so alluring - sorry I didn't know you would be in here I didn't wanna interrupt" He had added on once she spun around. A small sense of shock on her face.

"Oh god no don't be sorry. I'm the one who's not actually meant to be in here" Love’s cheeks had flushed, she wasn't usually nervous but considering Matty had walked in on such a vulnerable moment. "Let me just grab my stuff, I'll be out of your-"

"No no don't, I mean I don't think I would be able to deal with the silence. That's why I came in here" Matty hadn't recalled deciding to be so honest, though it came naturally.

"yeah it can get like that" Love spoke slowly lowering herself back into her original position. A low silence fell between them. A warm glow saturated the room, lamps were littered upon the studio. She found it comforting and supposed her father had too.

"I couldn't imagine living here" His body was now slouched against the leather couch only a couple metres away from herself. Sincerity radiated from him as his head dropped back against the brown leather. "I need the city noise"

"I try not to most of the time; live here that is" It was true though she hated to admit it. Yet she had imagined Matty had noticed she wasn't here the entire two months they had been recording.

"Do you not then feel like you're taking it for granted" Despite the nature of the question it didn't come across rude or prodding. Now meeting her gaze he could tell she was slightly uncomfortable.

Love was slightly confused, this wasn't the Matty Healy she had googled only a couple hours ago. Leaving the studio that morning led her to be curious of the new face. "yes and no. I feel like it's a small dose kind of thing. you can appreciate it only when it's necessary, plus i've spent my whole life here"

An uncomfortable silence was now lingering, well maybe that feeling was one sided because Love was at peace picking the strings of her guitar, despite her feeling his stare follow her every move.

"I listened to your album, you know, it was very impressive. I mean when I was seventeen I was writing about sex and girls with boyfriends" He was the first to break the silence and a small smirk rose upon her face though she was weary of whether he could see it or not.

"Is that surprising that I liked it?" He had noticed.

Straightening her face and turning to face him "at first, but I don't know any musician that is only subject to their own genre"  Her statement was followed by a low hum on his end.

"So what kind of music do you like?" Matty couldn't help but prod.

"Anything really" Love’s fingers were still picking and Matty wondered if it would lull him to sleep.

"Anything?" His voice echoed her own and she had to stop herself from looking up at him. Keeping an overly disinterested act as though she were far too busy for such a conversation.

"Yeah I guess-" It was true. Love’s father had produced a variety of different genres and his record collection was just about diverse as New York City.

"What so like metal to classical" Matty couldn't imagine this girl listening to anything different to her innocent guitar picking. It was silly of him to imagine that the daughter of one of the best producers in the world only listened to the top 40.

Love was confused to say the least but a small smirk picked up her lips and she scribbled down another lyric. surprised she would still be able to work while holding such a conversation. It helped she couldn't look him in the eye though she was starting to realise he's not as intimidating as he seemed hours ago.

"those are very basic genres, the average normy would listen to those without thought. plus, you can't say you like music if you disregard 99.9% of it"

"the average normy?, what are you implying we are?" Love realised she hadn't heard him laugh and she wished nothing more than to play it on repeat. If she could make him laugh like that again she thought she would be content forever.

"well obviously geniuses, or deities at least"

"ok, so let me get this right you listen to everything offered under the sun except my music" He had simply assumed. And by the look on her face as she got up to swap guitars- he was right, she had no clue as to who he was until she was caught in the studio.

"I actually listened to your album-" Love turned herself around to sit back in her spot that was now occupied by Matty, eyes scanning her lyrics.

"I'm sure you did" His head rose with a smirk; that was until her saw her frozen in the middle of the room, eyes burning on his finger trailing the fourth line of her page.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

"yeah you shouldn't have" Love got herself to finally move and pick her journal up when he cowered back.

He sat back in shock at her current change in demeanour and said something he probably shouldn't have. "how'd you make an album if you can't handle someone reading your lyrics"

She felt the gentle tug at the tears gathering in her eyes as she moved to tidy the chaos she had wrought in the studio.

"that wasn't for an album, it wasn't for you, not for anyone" it came out gentle, Matty hated how beautiful he thought she sounded.

"it should be"

"excuse me?"

"that's better than anything you've got out there, truthfully. Are you making another album?" Frankly Matty had been feigning for more after listening to her album all those months ago. She hadn't gone on a tour, done any shows, press, there were no unreleased leaks, no covers on social media; she hadn't even had an account on anything. The most he had found was an old youtube video her father had posted of her singing 'both sides now' when she was twelve.

"not for a long long time" She had calmed herself. She thought as though Matty would 5150 her after reading what she had wrote.

"like Fiona Apple?" He had lit a cigarette now and reclined into the base of the couch, she had been leaning her hands back into the desk.

"Sure, she's great"

[1yyyyyy1]

don't know if you're taking a break on this blog, but your posts have helped me a lot and there is – ironically, i am sure some would say – something comforting in your writing and in the ways you express yourself. you have mentioned multiple times about your decision to remove from your life women who do not add anything to it. my question is: regarding relationships with women (platonic or not), how do you deal with loneliness?

i have always been a very introverted person, partially because i always knew there was something wrong with this world, even before i could name it. the more i grow, though, and the more i learn, my loneliness grows with me. it really does feel sometimes like we're the only ones in the fucking planet. the chances of us meeting one another are almost insignificant. i always knew men were empty but now i have to admit to myself that also every woman i know, see and talk to is a walking corpse. i am not interested in romance (i am a lesbian but too fucked up about sex itself and its implications), but part of me still wants friendship, in a way that my younger self did not.

is this also a thing you feel, from time to time? something you have encountered before?

As always, I am happy to know that my writing is helpful or even comforting in some way :) I know that these are some heavy topics I talk about on my blog and proving that they are not necessarily hopeless is what I care about. I am not on a break right now and I have actually been writing a lot lately, it's just that none of it is enough to wrap up even a single answer and I have been very frustrated by that. I'm still working on answering the messages in my inbox, even if it is something that was sent to me months ago, so please be patient with me.

Regarding loneliness, the truth would be that I'm a very solitary person and I tolerate loneliness or even isolation extremely well, to the point where I'm hesitant to give advice on how to deal with it to someone who is only slightly more sociable. I would be lying if I said that coming to certain realizations about women did not make me feel alienated at first because it did, and I used to be heavily bothered by the fact that the number of women who I had the potential to get along with was much smaller than I had anticipated, but ultimately I felt great relief after allowing myself to recognize that most women were harmful for me to be around and that I no longer had to pressure myself into socializing with them. The more pressing issue I was dealing with at the time was a "certain" ideology making me feel like I was stuck up or bigoted for wanting to distance myself from something that was clearly damaging to me, especially anything that involved obvious abuse and coercion. "Stuck up" for maintaining boundaries, figure that... Shutting down this line of thought alone was enough for me to start getting better and to move on to building connections that were actually productive for me.

I think that dealing with loneliness starts with discerning whether it is a temporary thing for you or a personal quality. You already mention being introverted, but I would take it even further and really allow myself to consider that it could be a genuine preference. Being confident in your introversion is a big deal because I know how unwell the world can make you feel for not being outgoing and how much people pathologize it! I myself used to wonder if my reclusiveness was some kind of trauma response that would go away once I met the right company and was more at peace with myself, which made me feel and act desperate when I look back at it. Nowadays I get a lot of positive interactions on here and I am on much better terms even with people in real life because I no longer get as frustrated by their worldview, but I still find myself in my own company more often than not because not being overtly social is where I am at my best.

With that said, I would not be where I'm at without my current friend circle and I genuinely attribute my mental stability to the friends I've made over the past year. I used to feel extremely unheard and alienated due to my fringe worldview and, having met like-minded people, this kind of isolation is just not something I struggle with anymore. To answer your actual question, I resolved my loneliness by making friends online and by recognizing that my social needs are met through less outgoing activities, like playing multiplayer games or curating an online blog; I was not going to figure this out without acknowledging that I am as reserved as I have always thought myself to be first, which is why I mention making peace with your introversion in the previous paragraph. Even if you end up being discontent with anything other than a long-term real-life friendship, talking to people online is still a good starting point that will give you a general idea for what it is like to be around someone with a similar outlook. I did feel infinitely better after connecting with like-minded women on social media (actually messaging them and interacting with their posts, not just reading or liking them) and it is one thing I recommend doing.

How weak or strong your sense of isolation is really depends on how far you are into coming to terms with the reality of this world's dynamics and there is a very high chance that you will be inconsolable at first, even with the right people in your life. I remember feeling down well into newfound friendships simply because such a major worldview shift was a lot to take in and I suggest not giving up on building connections with people even if it feels like nothing is working out for you. All in all, I choose to build friendships with like-minded women on the internet while maintaining more impersonal contact (professional or otherwise) in real life and I prefer to keep it that way.

[liliallowed]

Weird how even though I love Dust sans, I don't like his Canon and hate the fanon versions of him. I try to ignore it most of the time because I know I won't be able to enjoy anything, but I feel so conflicted. I have see Dust sans so differently from everyone else it makes it so hard to enjoy any type of fan creation ;-;

(I feel bad most of the interpretations you share I mostly disagree- but I can't do anything because it's the majority)

Not sure why I'm ranting about this, I guess it's been on my mind too much-

lol it's fine!

I personally related to certain aspects of dusts mentality. a bit... too much. as a kid I wasn't in a best head space.

I clinged onto dust for a sense of understanding. a sense of comfort. something in me felt understood. aknowledged.

not sure if it was the self sabotage or the irony of yourself becoming your own worst self fulfilling prophecy with your doubts clouding your judgment...

or if it was his choice to take fate by the neck and say FUCK YOU I QUIT to the script, turning the timeline on it's head to what's got to be the coolest uno reverse moment.

something clicked with that. I don't know why dust specifically. I'm not like that with killer or horror or insanity. it was just DUST that I felt a small kinship towards.

I knew how he hated himself. that he purposefully sabotaged his own life just to be right about the shitty person he is and that irony would only feed itself.

he is stuck in a cycle. I to this day still feel like I'm stuck in my own cycle of improvement then I fall back to my worst then back up then worse goes on and on and onnnn it's never going to stop.

I'm not GOING to wait for it to stop I'm grabbing life by the neck and DEMANDING it to shit the hell up while I pull myself together.

like... I basically grew up with this au.

I was there when ask dusttales ask box was open. I read the entire thing like a deranged fan hoping to unravel secrets of the universe or stuff like that...

if we're comparing personal feelings and obsessions with dusttale... I've had A LOT of it.

but I've learnt that this projection onto fictional characters while therapeutic and helpful can actually harm others or make you sound like an egotistical jackass who thinks they know said character better than anyone.

it's parasocial... and I don't want to be mean to anyone I disagree with. when I don't enjoy others interpretations I try to focus on their positive side.

like, the fic I was ranting about?

that one legit had good grammar and the pacing was great. I liked the world building and the side characters! it wasn't bad! and I don't hate them. just a bit annoyed.

pick certain aspects you enjoy and put it into your own work! if you hate what others do? explain why and reason it IN YOUR STORY/ART/AU.

one of my fics was literally made out of spite to a dust x y/n soulmate au! (Thornbound souls)

just do what you like bud.

I like both canon AND fanon dust. but the plot has to make sense and he has to act in character accordingly in both situations.

my inmate au has a canon and fanon side! fanon side is for shipping shenanigans while canon inmate dust sans doesn't even MEET other humans or monsters.

I think you're allowed to enjoy both. in the end everything is just inspration for more things.

checking canon dusttale lore can be quite bland, mix it up with a bunch of head canons like... having dust occasionally spend time reading when he waits for resets.

as for fanon? do whatever you like just make sure you don't stray too far from dust being... well you know. dust.

classic ship of Theseus dilemma. though I won't ramble much further. just look for things you like!

and if it's under appreciated? CREATE IT YOURSELF!

I'm sure there are others who will gravitate to your head canons!