#both couples are doomed but in very different ways

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm Back (Did Ya Miss Me?)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

May 2025 Catch Up

Buckle up beeaches, we got a lot to cover.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Knock Out (Fri WeTV ) ep 1 of 12 - I called this one (via the trailer) "a low quality less fun/funny version of Wandee Goodday" and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself.

It's GREAT.

Harsh but i like it. And the fighting is quite good. Thun has a very Lan Wangji aspect to him. Protective, monosyllabic, powerful seemingly disengaged... still waters fuck run deep and all that. Poor Keen is downtrodden, clever, and adorable. It's a great dynamic, I like this a whole lot more than I expected. The pacing is even good. I'm so pleased with this BL! Damnit why did WeTV have to win this crop of new offerings?

My Stubborn (Sun iQIYI) eps 3-4 of 10 - of course it's stupid high heat nonsense, that always ranks higher than it should for me.

3 Sorn just treats Jun like a living doll meets boyfriend and I'm kinda into the kink of it. Jun is treating him like a first time dildo so what's good for the top is good for the bottom, I guess? Also i got my bites so I'm pleased. I like that Jun is a snarky tsundere who knows how to stand up for himself. Refreshing take on the archetype.

4 I’m not opposed to this style office whipping boy in this particular show. No idea why. I just like it with these characters. I think it’s cause Sorn is so clearly in love, and literally has no idea what to do except bully the boy. Life's tough for a tsundere seme with a mad crush on an easygoing sunshine uke.

Top Form (Thurs WeTV) eps 7-9 of 10 - Yet another installment of get that boy a therapist not a boyfriend. How many is that now? Countless.

7 I like how they chose to translate the pronouns (jao et al) from old-fashioned Thai into old-fashioned English (thee/thou et al)! It worked really well. I've been waiting for someone clever to do this. Well done Khun Translator! We likie!

I have to talk about how good Boom is after having seen him in his previous (not good) BL. (Where he played the seme character with a completely different screen energy.) He really is a stellar actor.

8 Way to get your fetish shoe-horned in their Japan, even when you’re being adapted. I’ve got to say that these two not only have decent chemistry, they’re really great at kissing for camera. They seem to be very aware of where the lens is and making sure their angles are good. It’s an unusual skill. It’s rare for both parties to be this aware as well simultaneously good at execution.

PROPS! They got sasaeng motivation down! Someone did their research.  

9 DOOM ep!!! 

Boys in Love (Sun iQIYI ) ep 3-4 of 12 -

3 I identify with Shane so much, re-organizing for avoidance is exactly what I do when emotional. Now that there’s an element of angst, I’m enjoying this show a little bit more, it feels more high school and less sappy.

4 They are EXTREMELY cute! This has a kind of modern Lovesick vibe to it, which I guess they’re going for? But it’s really hard to nail that without a bit of edge (which GMMTV rarely does. Still, I’m liking this better than I did at first.

The Next Prince (Sat iQIYI) eps 1-3 of 14 - Hotly anticipated 3 yr production featuring ZeeNewNu in a fantasy/historical where Zee plays a knight bodyguard and Nu a prince fighting for his right to inherit.

1 Okay Princess Diaries BL, let's do this thing! It's all very fancy and it would like us to very-much know how fancy it is. Zee is still hot.  The fight scenes are still not. I don’t know where this is going. But the chemistry is good so *shrug*. I am in ecstasies over how incredibly not-British that supposedly British party was.

2 This show is wildly bad. But the wildly part is fun. Absolutely nothing makes sense, you could ride a motorcycle through those plot holes. No one behaves logically, unless you assume it is a straight up fairytale. Secondary couple is giving TulHin vibes and I am IINTO IT. You know I love a good whipping boy. 

3 So they are misogynistic but not homophobic? That doesn’t make sense. Are we in a Hellenistic cultural model or something? Oh no, I’m applying logic again. Must turn off brain-meats. That gold crown looks exactly like a hot cross bun.

Could we please get onto the secondary couple at this juncture? They look so cute and I’m mad that we haven’t seen anything substantial with them yet.

Pit Babe 2 (Fri iQIYI) eps 1-3 of 13 - More conspiracy and struggles but less omegaverse.

I have to admit to reservations upfront. It took me days to finally watch the first episode. Historically I’m not a big fan of second seasons in BL. And while I enjoyed Pit Babe OG at the time, it’s not my favorite chaos BL. I convinced myself to watch the new installment by simply saying it would be all right if they messed with any of the other couples, so long as they left AlanJeff alone. And now. The chaos.

1 Of course I love Willy. Hot & creepy = my kryptonite. Nice to see Nut again, even nicer to hear that beautiful voice of his. 

2 Okay whatever. Just don't break up Alan & Jeff. 

3 I said not to mess with AlanJeff, didn't I? Argh. Meanwhile Kenta remains my favorite precious peanut. Also his arm muscles have returned in force, I see. Excellent.

Honestly, I rarely watch BTS footage, except for this show. The cast just seem to be having so much fun. I think I like the BTS better than the actual show.

I am so happy to have them back on my screen.

My Sweetheart Jom (Fri YT) ep 1 of 12 - I admit I wasn't sold on this one from the trailer but Saint is back and I'm disposed to be intrigued by the kind of script that would pull him in. So far it feels a bit Tale of Thousand Stars lite.

I love the 3 kids = one brain cell side kicks. I also like the personalities of the main characters. They are both noble and caring in their own way. I enjoy that aspect. it remains to be seen what their chemistry as like as a couple. But I’m enjoying this more than I thought I would.

The BangkokBoy (Sat Gaga) eps 2-4 of 12 -

2 Now we know how everything went down. I fast-forward through a lot of the fighting in prison. I think as our leads still haven’t met we can assume that this is not quite a BL. I think there’s also a chance that this one might not end happy. If my spidey sense goes off within the next three episodes I might drop it until I know for sure.

3 I’m going to ban Thailand and Vietnam from using flashbacks until episode six of any given show. You can’t use filler so early on in a series! Just take a shorter run time. It would be great if the main couple actually met at some point in this damn show.

4 Oh dear. More triggers. Everyone in the show is either a psychopath or utterly broken. At least our boys finally had a date. Prat fall kiss was not necessary in this style of show.

Loy Kaew First Love (Fri YT) ep 1 of 6 - I said I wasn’t gonna watch this one, but then it just dropped into my YouTube feed and who am I to resist? It’s a pretty simple story about two boys falling in love in a remote village where that just isn't a thing so everyone is against them. The scenery and the culture is interesting and different from what we are used to. It's got slightly better production values than I was expecting, and the chemistry is good. So a surprise continue for me, but I will warn you that this style of BL from Thailand only ends happily about 50% of the time, so I may drop it if I feel it's gonna head south.  

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist (Fri iQIYI) eps 6-8 of 12 - When they are a couple, they’re an extremely cute couple. But it starts and ends there.

6 The most ridiculous love triangle ever. As is often the case with me and love triangles could we not just have the lead and the secondary get together instead? Jimmy & Mark have great chemistry. 

7 Oh i don't know. And frankly I don’t think they do either.

8 Finally all of Sant’s trauma and background come out. Also they're good kissers. But I'm not warming to this show for some reason.

Eye Contact (Weds WeTV) ep 1 of 12 - Uni BL about a boy and a very hot campus star. Oh goodie. Something new and different for us.

It’s about what i expected. Not good but the actors are seasoned. (I already miss PokeTongue.) The production is truly awful - the sound being particularly bad and inconsistent. But frankly, I've seen worse. It's very "ordinary bottom trope" (Japan's term not mine) with 2 hot guys chasing/bullying our nerd for no apparent reason. Plot twist! Our ordinary is not so ordinary at all! And I kind of like that bit. Oh it’s still truly bad, but am I gonna keep watching it anyway? Hell yes.

Mission to the Moon (YT) 1-6 of 12 - Short form BL airing on YT, historical reincarnation romance combined with my ghost bf trope. Not sure how this one will end happy, but it's so low impact I'm watching it anyway. So far it's... fine.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sweetheart Service (Korea Fri YT) eps 1-2 of 12 - After being pressured by his family to get married, Min U asks Yu Ha to pretend to be his fiancé.

1 I’m enjoying it. Although Strongberry seems to have dropped in quality to the level of that other Korean company that’s airing short form on YouTube these days. In other words, it doesn’t really have its signature style anymore.

2 Despite my reservations around the directing and filming, I'm enjoying this show. They know where it’s at. There hitting all their marks for and old-school BL this time around. Carry on, I trust you.

Fight for You (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 7-9 of 12 -

7 They are awfully cute. I am starting to be scared of all the lies tho. 

8 Pretty much the same as last week. Honestly, not a lot is changing each episode. This one doesn’t seem to be progressing much.

9 Finally the DOOM ep. Cry babies, CRY.

It Finished, I'm Mildly Annoyed

Business as Usual (Korea) Final thoughts - An office reunion romance about college boyfriends meeting each other again in the workplace. Korea doing its bog standard miscommunication for the sake of plot + catlike tsundere uke but with surprise! sex out the gate. This one was mostly frustrating although the chemistry was decent and the love triangle wasn't really (yay!). It's fine. 8/10

Something Is Not Right (Korea) Final thoughts - Look, this is essentially a story of unrequited love out of willful unwillingness to believe the truth when it is staring you in the face AND told directly to you clearly. One boy confesses and then refuses to take the yes that came after it as a yes. (Like a reverse Mr Collins.) As a consequence this ended up being one of the most frustrating KBLs I've seen in a long time. Quality and performance-wise this is probably an 8/10 BL, but out of pure annoyance I gave it a 7/10. You’re pissing me off, Korea.

Stand By Me (Vietnam YT) Final thoughts - I binge watched this on my travels. 2 young boys form a bond in childhood but are parted. They reunite later in high school (the older is college age). The older one us very puppy fixated and the younger very cat tsundere. It's fine. Stuff kinda happens. There are other characters. Who do... stuff. 6/10

Last Meal Universe (Thai) 8 eps - An alien who has come to destroy earth instead falls in love with Thai food and then the Thai boy who cooks it - realistic, actually. It's done, should I bother?

Lost in the Woods (Gaga) 7 eps - Not my thing, dropped at ep 2. All signs point to no change to that opinion so I won't be reviewing.

It's airing but......

Sashes and Hearts (Pinoy YT) 13 eps - Philippines is doing Drop Dead Gorgeous only all gay boys queening their asses off. Doesn't interest me, not sure if it's BL.

Secret Ghost (Thai Sat Viu) ?? eps - The trailer dropped and it looks so bad.

My Golden Blood (Weds iQIYI) 12 eps - dropped at ep 5.

In other news

Bain of Kpop group JUST B comes out - pretty historic for the industry, actually.

Yes, Viki was down for a bit mid week. It's back up again.

I rewatched while traveling

Light on Me - of course it’s still great, this is one of my few 10/10s for a reason.

My School President - I actually thought the pacing was better on a rewatch, during the original I got a little bored, this time I could simply ff through all of the stuff to do with music. It increased my enjoyment of it even more. Still a favorite.

La Pluie - I still hold with the first half being excellent, it's the second half where it loses itself (and me). Still a solid show with good core concepts an interesting things to say about major tropes. The rewatch didn’t change my opinion at all.

Cosmetic Play Lover - what can I say, I love this stupid show.

Tokyo in April is... - still a big sad for me, but a lot easier to take now that I know exactly what happens (and happened). This time around, I appreciated the performances more. Since I wasn’t as caught up in the story, I could really evaluate their nuances. It’s a great show. If you don’t mind your BL dark.

Next Week Looks Like This: Frigay is BACK!

Still Coming in May

5/18 Season of Love in Shimane AKA Ai no Kisetsu: The Season of Love (Thai) - Sequel to Kiseki Chapter 2 which I intensely disliked. I won't be watching this.

5/19 I Promise I Will Come Back (Thai Mon WeTV) 10 eps - A Thai Taiwanese colab. Stars two Thai actors and Taiwanese identical twins from H3. However the lead and co-producer Tontae is actually a very good actor, so this could be good unless it's oen of those mostly intended to be a tourism advert for the Thai countryside. We shall see!

5/22 The Ex-Morning (Thai Thurs YT?) 10 eps - trailer Y This is an original script written just for the OG, direct by Lit (SOTUS) about a news reporter plagued by scandal who must work with his PR ex-boyfriend to rebuild his reputation. A reunion romance that's hitting pretty close to the IRL pair branded mark. It's no secret that (much as I make room for SOTUS because of it's significance) I don't love this pair, but we shall see what we get. Of course I'm gonna watch it. I have some standards to uphold - even if they don't.

Also: if GMMTV brought Ohm T on board simply to use him as everybody’s incredibly hot ex bf who turns up at opportune times, I’m actually really happy with that decision.

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S MONTH'S BEST MOMENTS (SO FAR)

He is SO CUTE. You know me and dimples.

This moment felt so honestly high school. (both Boys in Love)

Oh he's so damn proud of himself. (My Stubborn)

I just can't with these two, they are such good kissers. (Top Form)

If evil why so hot? (PIt Babe 2)

(last 3 weeks ago)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[the-lovely-lady-luck]

okay i finally did it, i caved and i wrote 3k words about a character with less than 60 lines of dialog in a ~30 hour game. if you haven't played clair obscur: expedition 33 yet i lightly suggest that you do bc the game is absolutely an all-timer. also don't read this because it spoils just about every major plot point in the entire game. if you've played feel free to read on.

Fuck. Clea Dessendre. I don't even know where to start to be honest. What a wildly compelling character. Eldest daughter syndrome. Needs to be doing something productive-ass cunt. This is sort of just my insane ramblings about her (mostly off the cuff while at work or packing for my trip), so if there are any inconsistencies it’s likely due to that but I fully intend to do a deep dive looking into all the mentions of Clea sometime soon.

I guess the central thing that compels me is the thing that most people get wrong about her in the first place: her grief. admittedly we have very little to work on from her directly, but I would argue that it's intentional. We have a couple of core things about her introduced through our first and only real interaction with her.

- She's a painter (obviously)

- She is mean to Maelle, and it's highly insinuated to be related to blaming her for Verso's death. She “both loves and hates him for that”, hating that he sacrificed himself for a sibling she doesn’t love like she loves him and yet loving him for it because it's why she loved him in the first place — that he was the kind of person who would sacrifice himself like that.

- She is off waging war against the Writers. She is outwardly dismissive of the rest of the family and the way they are handling their grief, but at the same time says she will wage this war on her own if need be.

I’ve seen a lot of jokes about how she's the only one in the family not caught up in grief, how she's off fighting in the plot of an entirely different game where she is the protagonist, etc. And while that's funny (and I want to play the clea game please please please) I think putting her off in a corner where she gets to lore dump and then not matter is a missed opportunity to think about her place in all of this. 

The stages of grief tend to be overused and often misunderstood (people putting too much significance in, say, the order of them or the insistence on everyone existing in every stage in the process), but I like the framework of different manifestations of grief and the names are easy to understand so I am going to use them as points of reference here (though notably i am reaching different definitions and conclusions for these terms than the “stages of grief”). My original thoughts on the topic were long and rambly so I'm paraphrasing my thoughts.

Denial and Bargaining are predominantly shown through the parents of the family, Aline and Renoir. Denial is Aline’s territory, with many characters remarking about her desire to escape into the fantasy of the canvas to avoid the harsh reality. She builds upon Verso’s established world and creates a fake version of her family so that she can play out what “should” have been. Bargaining, in a less traditional sense, is Renoir’s domain. He insists on his method of grieving over all others. And while he has a perspective many see as more healthy than Aline’s, his desire to force his family all under one roof to heal together is violent and ends up dooming an entire world just to satisfy his belief. His bargain is that if we just all stopped what we were doing and stood together for a moment and process in the *right way* then it won’t hurt.

Depression and Acceptance are the axis on which Alicia and Painted Verso reside. We don’t see much of Alicia in-game (I am counting Alicia, Maelle, and Maell-icia as different people in this context, since they largely have different experiences and feelings) but during her flashback we see she isn’t doing much in the mansion, and she takes Clea’s insults and believes them to be true. She blames herself for Verso’s death, as well as the conflict her parents are locked into. We don’t know enough about the situation with the fire to make any kind of commentary on how true that is but it clearly weighs on her as she worries over her family and repeatedly seeks some way to help. She initially talks about her injuries and claims her desire to go into the canvas is more to help her family, but later on, as Maell-icia, she comments to Renoir of “how little of [her] life remains” outside the canvas, revealing a darker insight to her interiority. 

Painted Verso is one of the few characters to strongly reside in multiple modes as a character of both Depression and Acceptance. Painted Verso is someone I think I could go on another rant about but my abbreviated take is that Painted Verso is a character who is being denied the stage of acceptance by everyone around him. By the time we reach him he has known the truth and wanted out of his immortality for some time. His life has gone too long, he has watched his loved ones die or be killed off, only to learn to love again and then see them die and killed off again in a never ending cycle. While the family of his dead namesake fights over his memory in their attempt to reckon with grief, Painted Verso is forced to live through cycles of grief over and over and over again (while these people can’t even get through a single one). His acceptance goes beyond accepting grief and it has basically broken him. He wants an end to the pain for him and for everyone in the canvas that dies because of his family (on his behalf), even if that means wiping it all away. With Verso’s memories and feelings and characteristics he is the most in-tune to what Verso would want for his canvas (rivaled only by the sliver of Verso’s soul that still resides within the painting).

Which leaves one major stage remaining, something that this game as a whole, in fact, seems to lack: Anger. Sure there are flashes of it here and there (this is not a game without anger), but it is rare that we see anger ignited by grief in the main story. Gustave has flashes of it, and then after his death Maelle possesses a great anger towards Painted Renoir for his part in it. But otherwise we see the other stages spread far and wide across the game while anger is relegated to the background.

Clea is anger. And her absence haunts the narrative like the absence of anger haunts the game. Her simmering anger echoes throughout the background of the game, from abducting Painted Clea to killing an Axon to pushing Alicia into the painting, her choices compound. And while I'm fully prepared to admit I might be going wild with all the red strings on the pinboard it feels like its simmering just under the surface in anything directly related to her, like a motif. With Renoir, with Alicia, with Simon, with *herself* she is trying to inspire rage at one thing or another.

Now anyone who knows me likely knows I love themes of anger and mess so it's no surprise I love Clea so much. Clea is *angry* at the writers, and while the other family members likely share the sentiment, she is the only one seen to be stewing in that anger, who has stayed in it as long as everyone else has been mourning or bargaining or denying. As shown and stated by both herself and Renoir she is waging war alone and at the same time lashing out at anyone nearby. She blames Alicia  for Verso's death in his sacrifice for her and she shows outright disdain for Aline and her attempts to escape to a world where the tragedy didn't happen. Renoir, who is ostensibly on her side, is not immune as Clea repeatedly states he is wasting his time trying to force Aline out of the canvas. Even verso, whose death the family so greatly mourns, gets the word hate spoken towards him for his willing sacrifice for Alicia. But each of these are, in a fucked up way, some combination of care, grief, and love for each character.

Clea is not kind to Alicia, generally speaking. It is difficult to gauge what their relationship was like before Verso's death, but it was certainly worsened by the event. she belittles her and her abilities, and even a couple of instances flagrantly comments about her inability to speak from her scarring. I certainly wouldn't call it a warm dynamic but there's a repeating theme of treating Alicia like a child, *which she is* at her (likely) age of 16. In several instances Clea mentions that Alicia being in the painting would actually help (as she is unlikely to be helpful in fighting a war given her proficiency before going into the painting) and she says she won't have to worry about Alicia while she is spending time growing up in the painting as maelle. Clea even enters the painting again, something she has repeatedly said is a waste of time, to specifically ask Painted Verso to watch over her since it is safer for her in the Canvas. It's not a particularly kind love, but I think it is a love all the same. The Clea in the endless tower speaks to Maell-icia asking if she wants to have fun, get away from the stress of fighting for a moment. She is still antagonistic but her distance and Maell-icia’s safety in the canvas allow her to let down her walls enough to speak more kindly.

Clea and her mother have a rocky relationship, which we can see pretty clearly with her attitude towards her mother in the flashback and how Renoir's plan wouldn't even function without Clea's direct involvement in weakening her mother. There is an twinkle of admiration in her words, as Clea talks about how Aline used to be the head of the Painters Council, how Aline is far better at painting than Renoir is and how Clea had to help him to even have a chance, how Aline *would have* agreed with her before she became this different person in her mourning. She is also the only Dessendre child to consistently refer to her mother as “Aline” rather than “Maman��. She even paints over her mother's depiction of her, one of the most pointedly spiteful things in the game. While it is all antagonistic, I think it hides a resentment that Aline isn't with the rest of the family. The person Clea respected, who was head of the Painter’s Council, would not abandon her family — would not abandon *Clea* — like Aline has. And with her gone and unwilling to listen to anyone else on the subject, Clea has cut her out, abandoning her to the painting and only contributing to her expulsion because it will hasten Renoir to her cause.

Renoir and Clea are close, him being one of the only people she shows respect for. She doesn't speak very highly of his painting skill, and she is firm in her belief that his attempts to expel Aline are a waste of time, but he wants to live with his family in the real world, which is the closest that Clea has to someone to grieve with. And so she creates the nevrons to stop chroma from returning to Aline, and letter sends Alicia to go help him too. She really wants him out of the painting, thinking he will be of major assistance in the war she is fighting (despite her comment that he's not as strong as his wife). And the admiration is mutual. While there is some debate in the game if it is Clea or Alicia who is Renoir's favorite, we can see with Hauler, the Axon slain by Simon in Old Lumiere, that Renoir saw her as carrying a part of the world on her shoulders. Alone. Clea’s ostensible lack of care towards the events of the canvas is repeatedly betrayed by her actual actions that add up to Renoir’s eventual success. 

We don’t know much about the war going on, but we know that Clea is the only one in her family fighting in it, potentially the only person fighting in it *at all* if the throwaway lines about the state of the Painters is indicative of anything. Upon Verso’s death she starts fighting. And then Aline withdraws from the world leaving her family to grieve without her around, a betrayal from a woman and paintress Clea seems to respect. Renoir, the only one who seems to want everyone together, goes into the canvas to bring his wife out. Clea is left to sort things out on her own, using anger and fighting a war single handed to process her feelings. And all of this on top of having to care for her newly scarred younger sister (who Clea is already having a hard time not blaming for Verso's death) because her parents have abandoned them both. 

But Clea is a grown woman. She can handle this. And then time wears on. and on. So she creates Nevrons to speed the process up, to get her parents back. She goes in herself only to discover a painted version of her likeness, some kind woman helping this man she loves on an expedition to explore this newly shattered world. It's such an insult to Clea that she steals this fake version of her and *paints over her* — both a mark of skill as well as a pointed aggression towards Aline, painting over another artist's work. It’s easy to assume that she is simply offended by Aline painting a bad or unflattering depiction of her, but I think it’s actually the opposite. We know Aline is an amazing painter, Renoir remarks that Painted Verso is one of her finest creations and Maelle/Maell-icia both have an affinity towards Painted Alicia and seem to understand each other on an intrinsic level. Renoir and Painted Renoir interact very little but despite Maell-icia’s comment to the contrary, both are quite willing to commit mass murder to protect their respective families in the way they think is correct. I don’t think Aline got Clea wrong, I think she got Clea *deeply* and *uncomfortably* right. 

Clea, in her anger and her already growing disdain for her mother, sees this woman who loves and cares for her family, for her brother and for Simon, and loses it. It is too painful to see a version of herself happy and in love; and in anger and jealousy she steals her away and “forces” this Clea into someone endlessly producing Nevrons — alone and fighting her own war against the expeditions without her family. Clea disguises herself as her Painted counterpart and grants Simon the power to kill the Axon painted in her likeness — Hauler, She Who Carries the World (that’s not an official title but god I just *really* want to know what it was). In one fell swoop she has erased herself from the canvas and from both parents; leaving one corpse as a monument in the center of the world among crumbling ruins and one corpse an animated puppet painted over her likeness and trapped in a sky prison.

The final piece of the puzzle is verso, who we learn Clea was very very close to. The only canonical age we have is verso, who is 26, so it is difficult to draw hard lines around childhood, but given that Clea is the eldest and Alicia seems to be quite a bit younger than Verso, it makes sense that Clea would be closer to him than her. She would have spent 10ish years with him (which we get some small glimpses into throughout the game) before Alicia came along. We get a lot of stories about the two of them through fading souls and talking to Esquie and Francois. Verso is scared of the dark and Clea makes him the Lampmaster (scary as fuck nightlight), the two of them go on adventures with their respective imaginary friends/creations. In the extended scene where Esquie gets Urrie we learn that Francois enjoys dancing and singing, and that he used to do so with Clea all the time. While initially unclear if this is just Esquie's optimistic perspective on the situation, the ending in which Francois asks to keep the little stone (with him and clea carved together) shows us francois “crying dramatically” over the rock (and Verso commenting about how much he must miss her). If you go back to him later Francois actually *thanks* the player for giving him the rock, saying it is nice to have a carving of Clea. These memories and her parent’s depictions of her paint a very different image than the one we see in her few real appearances.

The personal nail in the coffin for me is Re-Painted Clea seeing Painted Verso in the flying manor. When you make your way up there Verso is surprised she is even alive, a testament to how well Clea pulled off her deception. After the fight the party determines that they can’t really kill her, but something causes one of Re-Painted Clea’s eyes to return to normal, accompanied by the sound of panting effort. Painted Clea regains control, if only briefly, and tries to reach out to Painted Verso, her brother. Her body cracks and strains at the movement, like she is fighting off Clea’s Re-painting just to hold his hand again. The effort isn't enough and Re-Painted Clea takes control again, backing away and shaking her head. She takes control of her Nevrons and bids them to attack her relentlessly until she dies in an explosion of paint and energy. Painted Verso only gets a moment to say goodbye to the energy left over before it dissipates. Painted Clea seeing the fight with Painted Verso is enough to give her the will to fight back against the weakened control, and Re-Painted Clea sees Painted Verso as enough of a threat to her control that she kills herself rather than risk it again (yet another cruel bit of programming from Clea in her Re-Painting process).

Honestly I could probably keep going and getting less and less coherent given that we have so little to work with but YOU SEE MY VISION. I KNOW YOU DO. Clea baby I love you and your anger. Your belief that anger will defeat the grief and that you can outrun it you just have to become meaner and more spiteful and don’t stop running and running and running or it will catch you in the dead of night. And then your grief will make you useless just like your family is. And what good are you if you don’t have use.

Fuck. Clea Dessendre.

[missholloween]

Don’t blame me for this one, blame @samuelandthesun

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[cathnospam]

I seen this tiktok and I unfortunately thought about wearing it for Bakugo even though something tells me he wouldn’t give a fuck about you wearing lingerie because you could wear a parka and he’d still wanna put his dick inside you.

You don’t really wear many cute/sexy clothing. The most revealing outfits have been during a Gala and your hero costume. It’s not on purpose nor are you self conscious you have a BANGING body, but you just wasn’t a “fashionista “, but of course you weren’t a bum.

You were an average, tight/jeans w a top/hoodie kinda girl.

Bakugo even has dressed you a few times before, and he wasn’t too bad…

Until he actually got jealous men were staring at your curves and ass as if he didn’t pick the tightest dress he could find for you.

Hypocrite.

Regardless , his birthday was coming up and you wanted to surprise him.

After doom scrolling on tiktok you found a couple things he reposted on his account he liked but you got an ad for some lingerie, the girl even had a similar build as you! It was perfect.

But also risky.

Bakugo never seen interest in that type of clothing. You’ve both went shopping at Victoria secret a few times during a sale and when you joked about getting a g-string or two he just rolled his eyes saying you might as well wear nothing.

But you were a risk taker and your boyfriend alone was a risk so why not.

You bought several different types of pieces, some see through, some with holes in areas you found…interesting, and had one custom made with his name embroidered on it.

Tonight though you wanted to do a test run.

It was late and so was Bakugo. He called and said he was just 5 minutes away so you put the last bit of fluff to your curls and reapply your lip gloss.

When your fiancé comes in he is usually greeted by your hugs and smothering him half to death, but it was quiet, the room has an aroma of tonight’s dinner you had wrapped up for him so it can still be warm when he comes home, candels were lit, and the ambience felt….comforting.

“Babe…” His voice echoes roughly through the hallway you have a slight panic of whether or not you should pop out or wait for him to come and see you, but it was too late he was already at the door of your room.

“Hey…” You quickly turn, standing up straight and holding your hands together , giving your breast a slight more cleavage, “um…surprise!”

He just….

Stood there.

He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t shocked, he wasn’t annoyed he had a very indescribable look about him, but his eyes were going all over the place.

Bakugo looked at your face, then breast, then legs. And he did it for a few seconds until he approached you, constantly wiping his face.

“You…like it—-mph!!”

He almost knocked the wind out of your chest when he cupped your face to kiss you. It was hungry, messy, and wet. All your could hear was low growls and harsh breathing from his nose.

Completely unlike him since you’re usually the one initiating the kisses.

“Do-ahem…” you try to clear your throat and steady your voice, but it was too late his huge hands was on your body, squeezing and slapping everywhere on your ass, making your moan into his mouth. “‘Suki!”

He picked you up, your legs immediately wrapped around his waist as you giggle with his small suckles to your neck had you ticklish and turned on, “Do you like the look or what!?”

“What do you think.” He was kneeled in between your thighs pointing at his baggy pants that STILL managed to show a tent forming, it was kinda hot.

“Well can you at least say it!….took forever to get ready…”

“Sucks because I’m finna rip it off.”

“WHAT?!”

“I can rip it off or fuck you in it pick one.”

You fake pout hearing him throw off his shirt, his chest twitching involuntarily, he snickers seeing your still eye his hand taking off his belt with one hand , trying to close your legs, but he was way bigger than you and in your way.

“I’ll just fuck you in it. I can see your tits just fine through the fabric.”

“Katsuki!”

Full blown laughing at this point he hover over your and kisses the corner of your mouth, “You look fucking gorgeous, but you knew that.”

“So…”

“So…” The more he pushes closer towards you the more you lower yourself down, “‘M ganna…”

He kisses your lips, sucking on the bottom one with every punctuation, “show you…”

He kisses you again until you’re laid flat on the pillow, “how beautiful I know you to be. This outfit….fuck.” He sits up for a moment to wipe his face to try to distract how red he’s turning but he can’t help it.

He needs you.

An hour, and 4 orgasms later your clothes were soaked and thrown on the ground and curled into your man’s sweaty, bit up arms.

“What was the occasion for wearing that?”

“…no reason.” You shrug tracing his scars on his face, “Just wanted to see if you liked when I…switch it up on you.”

Safe to say though, Bakugo does indeed love lingerie, but only if you wear it.

[verizzafai]

Just to ask. If King Shadow and Jester Sonic was in the sonic verse—what would King Arthur and Sir Lancelot think of them?

Hmm dynamics dynamics dynamics… (Also Sonic Verse part update at the bottom!)

Bell = Jester Sonic

King = King Shadow

Changes “Bells” just to “Bell” because I kept reading “balls” LMFAO)

Bell and Sir Lancelot

- Bell absolutely adores Lance. He’s just like King, but without the bite. When Lancelot isn’t trailing behind Arthur, it’s likely you would find Bell trying to make him crack a smile or laugh. Doing tricks or re-counting stories. Lancelot thinks Jesters in general aren’t required for a kingdom to function, but he doesn’t mind the presence of Bell and secretly finds him a bit amusing.

Bell and King Arthur

- King Arthur is glad to finally have a pair that understands them, at least on a worldly level. While Bell and King are from a different, much more fantasy like world, they talk similarly which is nice. Arthur even laughs at his jokes and feels comfortable leaving Bell with Lance when he’s off to talk with the others. Bell also really admires and respects Arthur, especially since he and Lance clap at the end of his performances.

King and King Arthur

- King and Arthur have a mostly diplomatic relatonship. They treat each other the way they would treat the kings of their worlds. But King is definitely more hostile, a tug during a too tight handshake to try and throw Arthur off balance would be common. But even if King towers over Arthur, he isn’t intimidated so easily. King of course sees this as a challenge, so he continues to subtly disrespect him at every opportunity.

King and Sir Lancelot

- King would ignore most of the Shadows, seeing them as lesser to himself. But this would certainly be ten folded with Lancelot. Even if Lancelot ranks high in Arthur’s personal court, King still sees him as someone subservient, aka not worth his time. Lancelot extremely dislikes King for the way he treats both Arthur and Bell. While he tries to remain diplomatic, even he can’t help the occasional glare and snide remark.

Bell and King

- Okay, this is where it gets a little messy. Bell and King are pretty toxic so you’re going to have to bear with me here. (We have too many happy couples guys) Bell has been working in the kingdom since both he and King were kids. When King took over after Black Doom, he kept Bell around to amuse him, sending away the other jesters who worked alongside him. Bell does his best to keep a smile on his face, he is really good at repressing his emotions and acting positive. They have a very strong power imbalance, even if Bell is allowed to poke a little fun at the King. And King isn’t against using it. While not totally abusive, it would deifneltey toe the line.

However, in the Sonic Verse, King would very quickly get a reality check that he can’t treat Bell the way he would back home with most of the Sonic’s, and even a few Shadows, stepping in to cement that it doesn’t work that way here. I’d have to be very sensitive in the way I handle such a topic and do more research on it before I truly wrote anything for them.

Maybe after Sonic Verse is finished, there would be a second one where I could include more Sonadow pairs. (Pirate Sonic and Shadow, Zonic and Zhadow, Their gay animal print outfits, Archie Versions, STC/Fleetway, etc) but maybe more as a universe jumping adventure!

This makes me want to draw them all now… guys please

Also no Sonic Verse part today or tommorow, maybe expect the next one either Sunday or Monday. I’ve been a little nervous to post these next parts since we’re finishing up our first arc 🥹

[hannyoontify]

die with a smile - kim mingyu

member | husband!mingyu x reader

genre | dystopian!au, apocalypse!au, angst, fluff

word count | 1.7k

synopsis | if the world was ending, mingyu would want to be next to you

warnings | mentions of death, blood, doom’s day?, reader has a smaller build than mingyu, you can guess the ending..

notes | yes, this was based off the legendary collab between lady gaga and bruno mars’ and the song ‘die with a smile’ pls check it out if you haven't this is literally one of the best songs ive ever listened to in the year of our lord 2024

can be read as a stand-alone or as a prequel to this mingyu fic!

‘Come on, slowpoke! Catch up!’ 

You were running in a green meadow and the tall, swaying grass that reached right below Mingyu’s hip tickled his knees with every step he took in your direction. The view in front of him was the definition of a living dream. The meadow went past the horizon for as long as the eye could see and the bright blue sky seemed large and vast as it loomed over him. The big, round clouds seemed to sway with the wind that blew gently past him, scattering his bangs that were swept across his forehead. Up ahead, you continued to run and skip through the boundless field, a bright giggle leaving your lips as you continued to taunt Mingyu.

‘Last one is the rotten egg!’

A part of Mingyu thought that he would be okay with dying like this.

‘Wait up!’ He picked up his pace and jogged towards you. ‘Baby-'

A loud rumble interrupted his next words as the bright and clear sky turned dark and murky. It was a gradual change, like storm clouds rolling on a sunny day. The rich, healthy grass under his feet began to shrivel up and dry as the dirt ground began to crack and shake. 

‘Babe? Mingyu-!’ And right in front of him, the ground gave away and swallowed up the love of his life whole.

‘NO! [NAME] NO-‘ Mingyu reached for you, his outstretched hand too far away to grab your flailing limbs. ‘[NAME]! NO!’

“NO!” Mingyu jackknifed awake, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and with a hand still outstretched for someone who could never be saved.

“Another nightmare?” Your voice seemed to snap Mingyu back in reality. He cleared his throat and climbed out of his tattered sleeping bag to sit by you at the entrance of the cave. The sky was similar to his dreams; dark and murky but now, there was also red. Everywhere. Mingyu gave up trying to differentiate what the different reds were: blood, lava, fire. It didn’t matter. All of it was going to kill him in some way or another.

He settled down next to you and rested his head on your shoulder. “It was the meadow one again.” Mingyu mumbled quietly. Although the sky was permanently the same kind of color all hours of the day, you and your husband tried your best to stick to some kind of circadian rhythm to try and keep yourselves alive for as long as possible. Right now, according to our bodies, it was the middle of the night and you were on guard duty. 

“What do you think it means?” You asked quietly as you reached up to run your fingers through Mingyu’s matted hair. Neither of you bothered to care about the blood on your fingers or the grime in his hair. You were far too deep into this to care about hygiene anymore.

“We’re all going to die,” Mingyu mumbled. “But I refuse to watch you die in front of me like that dream. I want to be next to you until our very last moment.”

You pressed your nose into your husband’s temple and breathed in a deep breath. It was random love confessions like these that reminded you of how much you loved Mingyu’s spontaneity before The Incident happened.

Before the first asteroid hit, you and Mingyu were a normal couple. You each had your respective jobs; Mingyu as the head of his own architecture firm and you as a research analyst at a biomedical tech company, and both jobs was more than enough to financially support your little party of two. The two of you spent your days together exploring the city and traveling the world together. On random Friday evenings, he would show up to your office 20 minutes before you got off with a bouquet of flowers and sheepish smile. Although he understood nothing about your work, he would ask questions and listen to your responses with a loving look in his eyes. He would hold your hand in the hallways, your matching rings glinting under the fluorescent lights as you clocked out. 

That childhood, innocent side of Mingyu disappeared after the world turned upside down. He became more dark and serious, almost never cracking jokes and fixated on keeping both of you alive. He also had a rotation of nightmares that visited him every night. They were different variations of the same vision; losing you first as the world ended.

“Guess what,” You whispered. “I got us some food. Real food.” 

Mingyu’s ears perked up at that. “Food?” 

The past 48 hours were full of rationing Haribo gummies, water, and granola bars. Although it was a difficult switch for you to get accustomed to, it was even harder for your husband, who was much bigger and needed more nutrients than the ones he received from gummies, water, and granola bars. It pained you to see the man you loved constantly struggle with hunger but didn’t even let out a single peep of complaint to you.

“They were really desperate for first aid so I did an emergency medical procedure in exchange for some instant camping food.” So that explained the new blood stains on your fingers. Mingyu kept his eyes trained on your trembling, bloody hands as you tried to open a package of camping food. The label read ‘Instant Lasagna. 2 Servings’.

Mingyu could already feel his mouth watering at the thought of real food. And lasagna? That was a total luxury that almost nobody could afford right now.

“Baby, can you start up a fire and boil some water? We need hot water for this.”

Fifteen minutes later, and the food was ready. Your eyes glistened with a newfound joy as you opened the seal and held out the first spoonful of lasagna towards Mingyu. “Take a bite and let me know how it tastes.”

He shook his head. “No, you first.”

“Mingyu, I know how much you’ve been struggling because of our rations. If you don’t eat first, I’m going to get mad.” 

And he definitely didn’t want that. He took the first bite.

“Oh god, that’s heavenly.” Mingyu’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as he groaned. As a head of a thriving architecture firm, Mingyu’s had his fair share of luxury dinners and fine dining in his 13 years of working, but this single spoon of instant lasagna cooked in a dark cave while the world was reaching its expiration date was better than anything he had ever tasted in his entire life. 

You beamed. “Really? That’s great. Have another bite-“

Mingyu held up his hand to stop you. “Your turn. I refuse to take another bite until you do.”

“Touche.”

This was your favorite position. Your back pressed against the front of Mingyu’s chest with his strong arms wrapped around you. It had always been your ultimate favorite way to cuddle, especially because Mingyu liked to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck at random intervals and deep in a deep breath that tickled the hairs on the back of your neck. The current temperature (read: fire, lava, the basically non-existent ozone) would usually have you push Mingyu and complain that it was too hot, but now, every second counted.  

Another asteroid shower had started not too long ago. Usually, this meant packing up everything and moving further east, but both you and Mingyu came to a silent mutual agreement that you were too tired to continue. The two of you were beginning to come to terms with the fact that the world was ending and your time together was also coming to a close. 

With every distant thud you heard in the distance, you felt Mingyu take in a shaky breath and nuzzle his face further into your neck. “Gyu…”

“Shhh… I just wanna hold you right now.”

“Gyu, it’s getting closer,” You felt his arms tighten around you. He also knew what that meant. “Lie down with me.”

Mingyu spread his sleeping bag across the stone floor of the cave and gently lowered your head onto the floor, treating you so gently, like you were a piece of glass bound to shatter at any moment. He made himself comfortable next to you, letting you use his arm as a pillow as you buried your face into his chest. “Can you hold me like this?”

“Of course. Today, tomorrow, and every other day you ask me to.” Mingyu kissed the top of your head and sighed.

The two of you remained in silence like that for a while, your sweaty skins slick against each other from the heat, but you didn’t care. You were being held by the man you loved the most. The resounding thuds of the falling asteroids served as a constant reminder for the impending doom waiting for the two of you at the end of this as it drew closer and closer to the cave you were in.

“Look at me, my love,” Mingyu’s voice was ever so gentle and loving. He gently tipped your chin upwards to face him and his eyes roamed your face, as if he was committing every bit of it to memory. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for allowing me to love you and be loved back.”

You smiled. “I’m going to find you in my next life. I promise.”

“That, I won’t doubt for a single moment, my love.” Mingyu dipped his neck lower to capture your lips with his. Soft and gentle. Like Mingyu. A kiss that represented every kiss the two of you ever shared and the ones you will never be able to have anymore. “I love you so much.”

Through your bleary eyes, you tried to commit every part of Mingyu to memory. Under all the grime, sweat, and blood, was the Mingyu you first fell in love with during your freshman year of college. The boy who sheepishly asked for your number after the lecture only to lose to you horribly on your first date at your campus’ bowling alley. 

“I love you too.” You whispered.

Mingyu smiled. “Good night, [Name]. Thank you for being mine.”

“Good night, Mingyu. I love you.” Your lips tugged up into a bright smile. 

“I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

[keepthedelta]

okay it's kinda specific but is there any brocedes fact that is often overlooked but you think that is essential (or perhaps gives a new approach) to the lore?

that's such a good question. i have several, i hope you don't mind

the first one is the "he'll always be my best friend in my heart" quote. i've seen a lot of people use it as a very earnest declaration etc. (or if they believe in the nico is obsessed with lewis shit as a sign of that) but it was actually nico making a joke when he was doing commentary (on the italian comms i think). he was asked a question about lewis and jokingly/sarcastically said "in my heart he'll always be my best friend", and then immediately clarified that it was a joke (maybe recognising the narrative that would be spun around it). i know this seems kind of anti-brocedes but i do think it is essential to the lore that people recognise nico is not a weird as fandom likes to make out. he's absolutely weird, and he's definitely not normal about lewis, but he's not obsessive, and he feels comfortable enough making jokes about them. when you contrast that with lewis who either refuses to say nico's name in conversations where he is the most relevant person (the better teammates than max interview) or brings him up unnecessarily and then panics about it (grill the grid), i think it changes the dynamic of who is yearning, who is "over it", who is winning the idgaf war (it's neither of them but the difference is lewis lost by playing and nico is open enough about giving a fuck that he's not pretending to play). i am biased, but i also think that if you look back at them during their careers, lewis was always weirder about nico than nico was about him, although again, neither of them can truly be described as normal about each other.

then there's nico beating lewis in the 2004 f3 series that they shared. the narrative of brocedes describes it as lewis always beating nico, lewis being the one to win and nico always being slightly behind. and largely this is true. but in 2004 they were both competing in the 2004 f3 european series, albeit for different teams. neither of them won, but nico narrowly beat lewis. now they were in different teams and nico himself has said that some teams had better cars and equipment than others and that made a difference in the end result. but, nico still beat lewis. he had nearly double the number of dnfs/dns (6 to lewis's 3) and triple the number of wins (3 to lewis's 1), finishing highest of all the entrants who eventually made it to f1 (nico himself, lewis, adrian sutil and robert kubica). but nico himself barely seems to remember this. the narrative of lewis always being better, always beating him, is something he seems to have internalised, even though it isn't quite true, or at least, not as true as people make out.

my third bit of lore is that mclaren wanted to sign nico for the 2008 season. following the drama of fernando alonso (affectionate) and spygate, mclaren had an open seat and ron dennis wanted to fill it with nico. he even offered to buy out nico's contract from williams, but frank williams viewed nico as their best hope and refused. the driver that eventually ended up replacing fernando was heikki kovaleinen, nico's gp2 rival and 100% finnish to his 50% (yes nico's national identity crisis does come into this). lewis ended up winning the championship that year. heikki took only 1 victory, and while i think lewis would have beaten nico, i think nico wouldn't have been a doormat for him like heikki, and would have won at least a couple of races, which would have allowed felipe massa and ferrari to succeed. in many ways i think an argument can be made that nico not getting that mclaren seat really helped lewis to win his first championship, in the same way that if lewis hadn't gone to mercedes, nico would have won three, or if nico had stayed, there is a very real possibility that sebastian vettel would have won 2017. their presence and their success dooms the other, and it always has.

my final thing is that they are the most successful teammate pairing in f1 history. it kind of links back to the last one, where the fact that they are each as good as they are hurts the other one, unlike a lewis and valtteri line up or a michael and rubens line up where there is a distinct number one driver and the other one is to be sacrificed for him. but, even though both of those pairs were together for longer (nico and lewis aren't even in the top 5 longest teammate pairings), it takes more than a number 1 number 2 driver lineup to be the most successful. it takes nico and lewis, who are both number 1 drivers (don't come for me on this, nico would have flattened the likes of valtteri, rubens, or mark webber and you know it). although they were only teammates for four years (and one of those was a sebastian vettel/red bull dominance year) they achieved more pole positions, front row lockouts, wins, podiums, and 1-2 finishes than any other pairing in f1 history. they were utterly, utterly dominant, and that's why they hurt each other so badly. they were the dream team, the absolute best f1 could come up with, but they weren't just competing as a team, they were competing against each other, and only one of them could win

[taliesin-the-bored]

Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel (Thank you for tagging me!)

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

A Friend In Need’s A Friend Indeed — Azriel x Cassian.

Summary: Azriel’s been mighty stressed recently. Cassian is a good friend with a good suggestion and a good mouth.

Note: I still haven’t had a chance to sort out my tag lists, I’m sorry. This has been sitting in my drafts for ages. Life has been so busy recently 😅

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors dni. 💕

It’s clear to Cassian, the second he walks into the room, that the shadowsinger is in a foul mood.

In all honesty, Azriel has been in a foul mood all week.

He’s not very good at striking a work-life balance. Missions and reports and information flood his thoughts and keep him awake at night. They have done every night this week.

So when Cassian slumps down in the armchair opposite his, he eyes his friend and knows — Azriel is not going to be pleasant company tonight.

His brow is deeply furrowed and darkened as he stares down at the papers in his hands. Cassian considers asking him what, exactly, the report pertains to — but he selfishly decides that the information will numb his brain, and he doesn’t think he can bear to hear it right now. Whatever. Az doesn’t even glance up at him.

So Cass pours himself a drink and settles into the chair. And only after the fifth time Azriel sighs — yes, he’s counting — does he ask, “Long day?”

Az simply grunts and turns the page. This is going to be a long night.

"You look like you could use a drink," the Illyrian General pauses. "Or ten."

No reply.

Cass says, "Az."

"What, Cassian?"

"Why don't you put those papers down and have a conversation? Or better yet, let's go to Rita's—"

"I'm busy."

Cassian purses his lips. “The world isn’t going to end if you set your work aside for the night.”

“Your world is going to end if you don’t stop yapping in my ear,” Azriel pauses, scans the paper — and then growls, chucking it onto the coffee table in front of them both. “This is fucking pointless.”

Maybe Cass should ask, he thinks. He studies his friend. “What is it, exactly, that’s had you in such a foul mood all week?”

Azriel’s bleary hazel eyes merely flick up to him; clearly he doesn’t appreciate the observation. Dark smudges sit beneath his eyes. His entire body, shadows and all, is coiled tightly. Tense.

Oh. Oh. A fight, Cassian realises — a fight is what’s going to take the edge off. Goading Az, provoking him…he’s done it more times than he can count in centuries of friendship. Letting him get a few punches in will surely ease the tension. Cass is willing to do that for him.

“You’ve just been a rain cloud of fucking doom all week,” he smirks as the shadowsinger stiffens even more. “Perhaps you need to get laid. Although, no one will surely come near you while you’re walking around with a face like a slapped ass.”

Cassian waits for his retort. For him to surge forward and knock him out of the chair, or for him to demand that they go right up to the training rings at once and speak through their fists, considering Cass clearly has a lot to say.

But Azriel’s jaw ticks, and he merely shoots back, “Suck my dick, Cassian.”

The mischief almost winks out of Cass’s eyes. Almost. It’s not the response he’s expecting.

But he rights himself and sits up, his smirk widening. “Is that what it will take to cheer you up, Az? Getting your cock between my lips? When was the last time someone sucked you dry?”

The irritated twitching of Azriel’s eye tells Cassian that it’s been way, way too long since someone sucked him dry. And that shocks Cass. Az has many lovers dotted about the city — many different people he could lose himself in for a couple of hours. If he’s not even tearing himself away from his stress for some mindless pleasure, it must be bad.

“Cauldron,” Cassian raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should suck your dick.”

There’s no response. Not even a bark for him to fuck off. Azriel simply shifts in his armchair and clutches a cushion to his lap.

And Cass tracks the movement. He narrows his eyes on that cushion, and it takes him a shamefully delayed moment to realise that it’s been very deliberately placed there. He chokes out a laugh, “Holy shit, are you hard?”

“I wouldn’t be,” Az grits his teeth, “if you’d just shut the fuck up and stop talking about sucking my dick. It’s been a while, okay? I’m wound up.”

“…And is your hand not working, or…”

“It’s not enough. I’ve tried. I can’t…I can’t come.”

Silence settles between them. For once, Cassian isn’t quite sure what to say.

And perhaps Az is expecting him to make a joke, because he shakes his head and quickly stands. Grabs his reports. Makes to book it the fuck out of there.

But Cass says, “Wait.”

“Forget it, Cass—”

“I’m not laughing at you, Az,” he sits up. “You know I’ll always help you in any way that I can.”

Azriel scoffs. “What, like sucking my dick?”

“Why not?”

“Can you be fucking serious for five minutes.”

Cass shrugs, “I’m completely serious.”

Azriel stares back at him, narrowing his eyes. But the usual humour and banter…it’s absent. His face is open, honest.

He’s serious, Az realises. Completely serious.

The shadowsinger raises an eyebrow. “Cass…”

“Are you saying no?”

“…Well, no—”

“So sit down, Az.”

The choice is entirely Azriel’s, and the shadowsinger himself knows that. He can sit down and…and take what Cass is offering…or he can walk out of here and leave that boundary unbreached.

It feels a little surreal as his feet begin moving. Back over to the chair he’d vacated.

He thinks he might be shaking, which is weird, but sex and all that it involves tends to come naturally to Az. But in five centuries, it’s a line that he and Cassian have never crossed. They’ve seen each other naked plenty of times. They’ve fucked other people in the same room. It’s never come to this.

Until now.

Azriel watches as Cassian rises from his chair and stalks over. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this, can’t believe Cassian is actually offering.

But there’s nothing but sheer will in the General’s eyes as he sinks to his knees. Azriel parts his legs for him.

He swallows hard as Cass drags his hands up his legs. And his voice comes out in a rasp as he says, “You don’t have to do this—”

“Az?” Cass cuts him off.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and enjoy it.”

He can hardly argue with that. And as Cassian unlaces Azriel’s breeches and tugs them apart, the spymaster isn’t sure he’d be able to find the words, anyway.

Cassian’s hand is huge and warm and rough and callused. And as he reaches into Az’s breeches and pulls his hardened cock out, both males let out a little breath.

“Oh, yeah,” Cass eyes the rigid length, the swollen head, leaking with moisture. “You really need this.”

Azriel’s response dies on his tongue at the first stroke. He can only manage a grunt.

“Whatever you need, Az,” Cassian pumps his hand, dipping his head. “Fuck my mouth. I can take it.”

And then, gripping Azriel’s cock in his hand, he drags a broad stroke of his tongue, from the base to the head. Azriel’s hips jerk.

“Shit,” he grits his teeth, eyes intently on Cassian’s tongue.

Cassian smiles and does it again, “Like that?”

“Yeah. Yes. Can you…”

“Put you in my mouth?” as his tongue once again reaches the head, he wraps his mouth around it and hums his approval. He laps at that little pearl of moisture that’s waiting there.

“Fuck, Cass,” Azriel gasps. He relaxes in the seat, fingers sinking into Cassian’s hair.

Cass realises quickly that he enjoys this. He’s had the odd experience with males over the years, but it’s mostly females that take his fancy. But this — feeling Azriel’s cock disappear into his mouth, feeling his thigh flex under his hand, feeling him jerking and writhing on the spot — gods above, he’s so fucking hard right now.

His lips and tongue seem to work in tandem. He drags his mouth over Azriel’s length, licking and sucking as he goes. And then he pulls his lips off him and repeats.

Azriel’s breaths are picking up. This is so much better than his hand. He actually feels like he might come, and not just be beating away at pleasure that never comes to anything. He moans, pulling at the strands of Cassian’s hair. And at the same time, he uses his other hand to push Cass’s head down.

“Gods, Cass, your mouth,” he growls, encouraging the bobbing motion that Cassian’s head falls into. With every push, Cass takes him in deeper, deeper.

And with saliva dripping from his chin, and the head of Az’s dick damn near grazing the back of his throat, a single thought crosses Cassian’s mind: he really likes sucking cock.

“Harder,” Az grunts, not even sure he means to say it. But he just wants…wants Cass to be rough. Wants this to be teetering on the edge of pleasured pain.

But Cass pulls his cock out of his mouth, wrapping his hand around the length. He pumps fast, hard, and then says, “Fuck my mouth, Az.”

The second Cassian’s lips are wrapping around him again, Azriel does exactly that.

He’s lifting his hips and gripping Cassian’s head with both hands, and he thrusts, hard, panting and sweating and swearing. Cassian takes it all like a champ, greedily swallowing every taste of him. His hands grip the back of Azriel’s legs, and he slides his mouth all the way down.

And this time, when the head hits the back of his throat, Azriel stills.

“Fuck!” He shouts, groans, gasps, roars. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

His cock is absolutely exploding. A week’s worth of pent-up frustration shoots from him and spills down Cassian’s throat. Cass swallows. And swallows. And swallows. Every last drop. He moans while doing so.

Az thinks his hips are still rolling long after his release has rocked him. He can’t bring himself to let go of the pleasure, to remove his cock from his friends mouth. It twitches on Cassian’s tongue and dribbles the remnants of his seed with every jerk. Cassian stares up at him with swollen lips and lustful eyes.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, the two males finally part. Both are breathing heavily. Cassian wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That was—” Azriel swallows, tucking himself back into his breeches. He doesn’t bother to lace them up. “When did you learn to do that?”

Cassian’s smirk is purely roguish as he pushes to his feet. “I’ve learned a whole lot of things you can’t even begin to imagine,” he rolls his shoulders. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Az watches him, his eyes falling to that hardened bulge that pushes through Cassian’s own trousers. He clearly enjoyed what just occurred. And that thought alone has Az’s cock twitching to life again.

He leans forward, opening his mouth — to say what, to suggest what, he isn’t sure. But before he can voice his desires, footsteps are approaching.

Both males straighten up as Rhys appears in the doorway, a drink in his hand.

The High Lord sniffs, his brow furrowing. And then he looks between his two friends — Az’s unlaced breeches and heaving chest. Cassian’s swollen lips. He puts two and two together.

“Cauldron fucking boil me,” is all he grouses, and then he’s turning back and leaving the way he came.

Leaving Cassian and Azriel alone once more.

[siriaeve]

Riffing on a Guardian Blind Date column; for @sheafrotherdon

If Joe's first instinct hadn't been to laugh, the whole evening might have gone very differently. But he laughed, belly-deep and genuine, and after a startled moment, Nicky laughed too, and whatever awkwardness or prickliness might have been on the verge of springing up between them ebbed away. 

"What are the chances?" Joe said, scooting along the blue velvet banquette to let Nicky join him in the booth. "It's been what, a decade?"

"Nine years," Nicky said, smiling up a quick thank you to the waiter who set a water jug on their table before turning his full attention back to Joe. His eyes were a far more startling, sea-glass colour than they had been in Joe's memory. "It was the first summer I lived in London."

Two years after Joe had moved here himself, then—a newly-minted graduate who'd been determined to see the world beyond Rotterdam but then had liked his first stop so much he'd stayed. 

"Nine years? Wow." Joe found himself fiddling nervously with the edges of his menu and made himself put it down. It wasn't as if he didn't already know what he planned to order—he'd been wryly amused at the fact that out of all the places in the city the newspaper could have sent them for this blind date column, the choice had landed on a Middle Eastern restaurant that Joe came to semi-regularly. He busied himself instead with pouring out water for both of them. "Time flies, I guess."

"Yes, you did not have this…" Nicky gestured towards Joe's face. "... this beautiful beard, when last I knew you."

Joe bit back another laugh because this was flirting, this was definite flirting, there was already a warmth kindling between them, and that wasn't at all what he'd expected in the first moments after the waiter had led Nicky over to the table. They'd gone on two dates back in the day—the second somehow even more awkward than the first—having been gently bullied into it by a coworker. Two dates had been more than enough then. Joe had no recollection of any spark between their younger selves, no instinctive pull towards the new guy on the fourth floor with the bad haircut and the strong Italian accent. 

With a few years of hindsight, Joe had been able to recognise that maybe trying to date a guy who had moved to the U.K. less than a month ago and who had only come out publicly the week before had always been doomed to failure. With a couple of more years' experience under his belt after that, Joe had also understood that his mid-twentysomething self had been self-righteous in a way that made him cringe now to recall. 

"Looking this good takes time," Joe said, with a mock toss of his curls and a flutter of his lashes. Then he grimaced and said, more seriously, "I guess I should apologise for the last time and the, uh, respectability politics stuff." Joe's younger self had had strong views on the only right way to be a gay man and hadn't been shy about telling Nicky what he thought he was doing wrong. 

"Only if you'll let me apologise for my behaviour as well," Nicky said. Joe didn't understand any Italian beyond gelato and ciao, bella, so he had no clue what Nicky had said to him back then, but tone and volume had conveyed enough. They'd come very close to being kicked out of the coffee shop. "I shouldn't have been so…" His broad shoulders rose and fell in a helpless shrug. "I wasn't so long out of the seminary, then. I was very—I was inflexible."

The waiter picked that exact moment to come and ask for their orders, which was deeply frustrating but Joe made a conscious effort to be on his best behaviour. He had no desire to be kicked out of here unnecessarily, not when Nicky was unexpectedly sitting next to him, looking at him with those beautiful, changeable eyes and with that tiny hint of a smile playing around his lips. 

Their drinks came out promptly, the food not long after, and they ate and drank and talked and talked and talked. Joe barely registered the fact that the restaurant was slowly emptying out around them, because how had he not known before that Nicky was fascinating? Conversation flowed between them with an ease and a warmth that would have been remarkable on any first date—a TV show they'd both been watching, their respective experiences visiting Istanbul, their thoughts on urban chicken keeping, where each of them worked now and what they'd been up to the past few years, the time Joe and a cousin visiting from the Netherlands had accidentally ended up at a BAFTA afterparty and Joe's picture had appeared in a tabloid newspaper with the caption 'Mystery Man Woos Soap Star?'

By the time they had finished their bowls of baklava ice cream and pot of mint tea, they were the only diners left and the staff were clearly longing for them to leave.  Joe left them a hefty tip in apology, though he didn't feel too repentant as he followed Nicky out into the London night. 

The weather had turned, and something heavier than mist and lighter than drizzle was falling around them, catching the light from the streetlamps and gilding the tips of Nicky's hair. He'd brought his bike with him, which he unlocked before offering apologetically to walk Joe as far as the tube station with it. 

"It's just that I was not very optimistic when I let Nile talk me into this," Nicky said. "Although I try to bike when I can, anyway."

"I see," Joe said, sticking his hands into his coat pockets and aiming as best as he could for casual. "And  your optimism levels now are?"

Nicky looked at him sideways through his lashes and there was that tiny smile again. "Rewarded, I think."

Under the light of the last streetlamp before the station, Joe and Nicky paused to swap phone numbers and for one tentative, hopeful little kiss. It was one of the most chaste kisses Joe had had in years, but when it was over he felt his breath hitch and he opened his eyes and blurted out, "Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?"

Nicky laughed, but he was—tomorrow night, and so many others after that. 

[whereserpentswalk]

You were sent to document the last member of a dying race. You're one of the only people with the expertise to do such a thing. It's rare that this happens but it's important to have someone who can do this when it does.

You were sent to a small lonely planet to meet with a giant creature. He is larger then any creature on earth, and the largest creature on his planet. His scales look almost like stones, and he has many long arms around a mouth filled with square teeth. His species is old, each of them live thousands of years, he only has a couple of hundred more left, then the entirety of his race will be extinct.

His species were nomads by nature, traveling their worlds shallow seas, bodies of water that would reach up to your neck at their deepest. They could cross the length of their planet in a few days on their own, so they never built vehicles or permanent settlements. They only ever built structures smaller then themselves.

He tells you about how his species changed over time. When he was young their groups were massive. Their total planetwide population was probably pretty numerically small compared to races like your own, but back in the day the largest tribes had hundreds of members. He tells you about how his tribe met with other tribes and exchanged goods. How they'd sing songs and play games. He'd talk about how he was never alone for the first part of his life.

You try to record everything you can. You become the first person to write down the myths of his people, as best as he can remember any of them. You get a small snapshot of what his world once was like but that's it. Every myth and legend he tells you is just one version, but now it's the only version left, everything he doesn't remember being purged by the void of time.

He was in his prime when his race started to dissappear. There were holy wars across his planet, and he remembers seeing tribes fight eachother to the death over it. Eventually the war spread a pandemic, and the pandemic left too few of them left to have a war. For species that don't live as long and who have higher numbers plagues and wars are common and survivable, but for a species that lives thousands of years it's apocalyptic to have one, and doom to have both at once.

He tells you about what it was like after the war, how groups became smaller and smaller, trying their best to make it out in tribes with less then a hundred, then less then fifty, then less then ten, members. He tells you about what it was like to see his wife die when his tribe failed to make it after the plague years. His race mates with one partner and then never again, they have no concept of finding a new love after one has passed. He doesn't talk about her much, he prefers better memories.

He tells you about the time they all were on their own, as lone wanderers of a dying world. He tells you that at one point they realized they all were going to die. He tells you there was one time when he saw a member of his own species in the distance, thought about talking to then but didn't, and then never saw one of his own kind ever again.

He talks to you. Not always about anything related to your archival, often just because he wants someone to talk to. He's been very lonely for a very long time. He says that the way he interacts with you reminds him of when he was young, having someone to be with him all the time. The size difference means he can't hug you or touch you like he wants to. Sometimes he let's you touch his scales, you're too small for him to really feel much of anything but he's happy to know you're there.

He tells you that he's come to terms with his species destruction. He says that the fact that there are other species out there are just as worthy as his own. That he's comforted by the fact that someone on a different world is happy the way he once was happy. You haven't come to terms with it, you wish you could know his world in ways you know you never can.

He asks you a bit about your species. You tell him about humanity, how you spread across the universe, and how in doing so you became masters of your own anatomy, combining your bodies with machines and becoming a race of undying cyborgs. You have a thousand appearances and body plans, and can change things like sex and age as easily as you could get your ears pierced. But because of it most of the universe sees you as a race of powerful and unnatural monsters like faeries or dejin from myth. He's the first time you've talked to an alien that didn't see you as a cold and unfeeling threat. He tells you he doesn't understand why the world sees you that way. You've come to terms with being a monster, but you don't think he has.

[iwasnotaslasher]

A concept: the usual trope "kryptonians colonized Earth and enslaved the population", except when rebel leader Bruce Wayne falls prisoner of general Kal-El he finds out the alien is actually on their side. And he falls for him.

Premises are: Zod's coup is successfull, kryptonians leave their dying planet to terraform and colonize Earth, dividing the territories among the most prominent families and enslaving the Earthlings.

As much as Jor-El and Lara hate this turn of events, playing along is the only way to survive and make a difference. So to their family is granted the whole North America and they settle there as rulers, turning Metropolis into their capital city, but sending their son Kal to be raised into a humble Kansas farm by a Earthling couple.

Meanwhile, to keep up their facade with other élite families, Jor and Lara proceed to rule with iron fist among their territories, suppressing any attempt at insurrection and deporting all the prisoners to misterious concentration camps located into the deep midwest country, striking fear and hate into population. Spoiler: they are not actual concentration camps, but nobody must know, especially the other families.

After thirty years of dictatorship, Gotham City is currently hiding the last secret resistence bastion, held together by Batman and a handful of other rebels. Their main activity is aimed at weaken the colonizer, both carrying on targeted attacks and hoarding kryptonite. They have become so effiecent that they are now deemed as the most wanted among the kryptonian regime enemies, with the order to bring them alive to the rulers.

It's during one of their attacks that Batman crew falls. Bruce fights back with all his might but its all worthless: in the end he's defeated.

"This one is mine." a harsh voice says in kryptonian.

Bruce gazes up at the alien holding him down with a booth pressed on his chest: the familiy crest draped over his uniform is unmistakable as well as his red-glowing eyes. He's Kal-El, Last Son of Krypton: heir of their rulers and ruthless general of their army. His reputation as cruel monster has spread all over the world. Bruce is now sure to be doomed: if Kal's fame is true, he will not even get to see the infamous concentration camps, and not because he will recieve a mercifully quick death. Oh no, he will suffer. Bruce is going to be throughly humiliated until his very being will be annihilated, then maybe, when Kal will gets bored of playing with him, he will finally being killed. Bruce just hopes that nothing about his horrible fate will ever reach his kids.

And for the first part it goes just as he dreads. Taken to Metropolis with the other rebel survivors and paraded in chains along the city streets, under the scornful eyes of the gathered kryptonians. Then dragged at their tyrants' feet, forced to kneel in front of their thrones as they congratule their son for another of his victories.

Bruce can’t bear all of this. And since he doesn't have anything more to lose, he dares to look them in the face and openly threaten them. Kal punishes him yanking back the chain connected at his collar and pressing a knee between his shoulder, making him simultaneously bending over and shutting up for the lack of air.

"This one will be quite a challenge to break." Jor comments with a chuckle.

"Go, my son." Lara says smiling fondling at him, "Have fun with him."

Now can you imagine Bruce's shock when, finally alone with him into Kal's quarters and already fearing the worst, the alien takes off his "terrifying kryptonian general" mask and begs Bruce to forgive him for how he treated him so far?

All the while speaking with a perfect USA english with a strong midwestern drawl??

And then proceding to ramble about what his family is doing since they settled there and how with Bruce's help they might have a chance to actually overthrow Zod's government???

Of course to keep their secret they must fake Bruce being held as his personal new toy and play out the dynamic whenever their are surrounded by other kryptonians they not entrust.

Of course Kal is so effiecent at masking while they are in public, as well as mortifyed and gentle when they are alone, and Bruce just can’t believe how quickly he can go from cold-alien-master to cute-country-boy in mere seconds.

Of course for Bruce is damn hard to deal with all of this: having to turn his hatred into trust, coping with how he actually feels while they play their master/slave parts, recognizing how Kal is growing a crush over him and so how much Bruce can influence him.

Of course at some point Bruce is reached by a rebel cell, who gives him a kryptonite dagger.

Of course Kal wakes up right when Bruce is hovering on him, dagger pointed at his throath.

"Do it. Your people will never have another chance like this."

Of course the dagger slips from Bruce's grasp and instead of killing him he ends up kissing him.

[ultimateinsomniac]

seen a couple posts talking about the ending of the drv3 chapter 5 trial so here's my personal take:

shuichi and kaito didn't "ruin" kokichi's plan, because it never would have worked in the first place. monokuma had too much control over the whole situation. i think monokuma threatening to kill everyone and kaito stepping out of the exisal was the only way that trial could have ended, regardless of what shuichi did.

it's partially because of kaito's nature and partially tsumugi's as the mastermind. we know tsumugi will do ANYTHING to keep the game going, including breaking the rules, so if there was an unsolvable murder i guarantee she would bend the truth to make it solvable. she's not going down that easy.

kaito didn't completely understand kokichi's plan- he was only doing it as a favor from one dying kid to another. the second it looked like his friends would get killed because of it, he jumped ship. kaito cares too much about others, and not enough about himself, and he would never have risked his friends being executed.

if kokichi's plan DID work, and they voted kokichi as the blackened, i don't think THIS monokuma would have let it slide. it would still be an incorrect vote, and tsumugi clearly doesn't care about the rules the way junko did. she'd kill all of them and have kaito "graduate." i don't think kaito would let that happen, and i don't think he even had enough faith in the plan to GET that far, especially if monokuma started pushing him to reveal himself the way he does in canon. he didn't care about "tricking the mastermind" the way kokichi definitely did- he just cared about making sure everyone made it out alive.

that isn't to say that kokichi DIDN'T care about everyone else (clearly he very much did), moreso that he cared a lot about fucking with the game itself. he hated the game, and he hated the audience, and i think, crucially, he hated the killing. his view on it was different than kaito's, and while they both wanted to "end" the game, that meant different things for each of them.

kaito is headstrong and easy to anger, and extremely loyal. kaito made the conscious decision to murder kokichi, and he did it to save maki. there was, of course, the element of wanting to "end" the game, but i really don't think that was his main goal. it was a killing game, and he chose to kill, even if it was for someone else. kokichi gave kaito a reason to kill him, but kaito still chose to commit murder. i think the guilt of that was eating at his pride, and that's partially why he showed himself at the end.

kokichi and kaito are both flawed people, and they made bad decisions. kokichi's crazy ass plan was a shot in the dark, and it was desperate, and both of them were dying. shuichi did the best he could with what kokichi gave him, and i don't think enough people give him credit for that. he even tries to backtrack when he realized kokichi's actual goal!!!! the plan was just so flawed from the beginning, because kokichi still had no idea who the mastermind was, and he didn't trust anyone enough to ask them for help (you could argue he DID trust them with the plan after his death, in his own convoluted way, but it's behind so many layers of distrust that it was doomed to fail.)

i think we all too readily believed the idea that, if it worked, this plan would end the killing game and everyone would live happily ever after. MAYBE in a junko-run killing game, like ch6 of trigger happy havoc, but not with tsumugi. if they voted kokichi, i think monokuma would have smoked kaito out and then killed everyone. it wouldn't have been a checkmate.

[alfascorpiionux]

The dilemma of Moon in 8th house | Moon in Scorpio

“Have you ever felt like a lone and abandoned hair band steeped in mud and then stepped over by gigantic heels of strange creatures you can call by name? Sure enough, a hair band can be cleaned but what if it’s torn? Could it still be used to proudly hold and adorn your hair, whilst the two of its ends are tied in a knot? How long will that band fulfill its function? Playfully a person might decide to twist it between their fingers, testing its elasticity, how far and wide it could be stretched or what shapes and designs could it create before rupturing again. Well, it’s just a a band, surely it can be retied or replaced altogether. But what if you’ve got only one gigantic band your whole life that’s wrapped tightly against your soul and that is ruptured in not a singular place but a multitude? Every rupture brings unimaginable pain and a lingering sense that it’s all a tasteless joke, a stage act that had become way too personal, that it’s a ultimately all worthless and this feeling of doom will have no end. Emotional distress on this natives hits harder than on anybody else. They live and breath the people they care for and any pain caused to or by them is a true tragedy that’s to be remembered for an undetermined length of time. Possibly their whole lives.

8th house is the house of death and new beginnings and as such is the emotional life of these natives. A perpetual oscillation from chaos to clarity and then back again. This means constant change in the way they view and relate to things. A deep and very transformative journey that’s profoundly lonesome at its core. You probably felt like you cannot truly confide in people, even those closest to your heart and that have never disappointed you, let alone strangers. Who, if not you, knows better than anyone about the deceptive and reprehensible ways in which people can act, at times in the name of love or just to prove a point to themselves? You cannot fully trust even yourself, can you? But that’s the closest bet you can find. So there is no other choice.

Continuing my hair band analogy, let’s suppose that a different person was responsible for each of the ruptures, which in turns gives us at least a couple of lingering ghosts that’ll keep hunting the graveyard of this person’s heart, never to leave. A reminder of what should never be allowed again.

I like to think that inside this graveyard, there is a golden church with a priest and then there’s everything outside of the gates which is the outside world. Only the very select and special few will be given the privilege to enter this church and take on the role of priests. For this native loves certain people not only deeply but also with admiration and abandon to the point they would do anything for them. The ghosts hunting the graveyards represent the past that never leaves them. Sometimes they are so insistent they try strangling both the appointed priest and its follower (who is the native him/herself). The ultimate goal would be to disrobe the priest turning them back into what they were before entering the gates: flawed humans reaching out for a connection. Only this time they would stand side by side holding hands, bravely walking through the graveyard, headless of ghosts and step out the front gate towards a future that’s entirely theirs: a new home or a new journey. Unfortunately people usually won’t even ring the bell at the gate, let alone reach the church to become a priest. And thus, mostly the natives face their army of ghosts alone. In the lack of a priest something else becomes their guiding star, ultimately. The way outside will be a lot more arduous and long-lasting.

Such is the nature of these people: constantly changing and yet always somehow the same. These are the people that will cry in despair when everyone is gleaming with joy. The one person silently jotting down ideas in his notebook with a forlorn expression. The one that says I am happy, and maybe truly thinks he is, but truthfully believes happiness is overrated and too abstract of a concept to aim towards. Will I find meaning in what I do or will my life be just a mere mirage so easy to shatter, a copy of other people’s ? Better yet, will I find the sort of deep connection I am longing for?”

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 19

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, the usual denial of feelings. It's all coming together now! Only a couple of more chapters to go! I'm super curious to how y'all think things are gonna go down and exactly when the oh moment really will be/what's gonna make them both admit it to themselves.

3.8k

Emily was a little later than she thought she would be, barely making it before breakfast hours ended but the important thing was that she got the food and she made it to your place and wasn’t whisked away by any phone calls. Securing the bag and drink tray she made it through the halls of your building until she was outside your door, knocking on it the best she could with her elbow. It took a couple of minutes, she could hear some shuffling gong on inside, but you finally pulled the door open, your head titling at the sight of her.

“Hey.” She greeted with a warm smile.

“Hey…” you replied, a tiny laugh coming from your mouth, “what’re you doing here?”

“I promised I’d bring brunch.” She held up the bag, “well, lazy brunch.” She surveyed you for a minute, watching the gears turning behind your eyes and it was her turn to laugh. “Oh my god, you really are out of it. Jetlag gets you that bad? I thought you travelled for work?”

“Not often.” You admitted, feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks as you fully remembered the conversation in her office, “and it’s only ever like, a two hour time difference.” You stepped back, letting her into the house and raising your hands to take the tray and bag from her so she could get rid of her shoes and coat.

“You really forgot I was coming?” She asked, swiping the bag back from you and following you into the living room.

“Figured you were off on a case.” You shrugged, dropping back down onto the couch, fiddling with the remote to turn the volume down as you burrowed yourself under the blanket you’d been under before the bell rang. “I’m glad you weren’t though…. I’ve been doom scrolling through three different apps trying to decide what to get delivered for hours without a single thought in my head on what I could possibly want.”

“Well, enjoy some delicious grease then.” Emily suggested with a smile, pulling what she wanted from the bag before handing it over to you.

“Thank you. Seriously.” You eagerly searched through it, pulling out a McMuffin and a hashbrown, your stomach loudly growling. “Would’ve wasted away to nothing without it.”

Emily laughed softly, watching the intricate way you inspected the ingredients of the sandwich, adding both ketchup and hot sauce into it before slipping a hashbrown next to the egg and putting it all back together. You let out a very appreciative groan after your first bite and silently gave her a very thankful look that she didn’t need words to transcribe.  

“I’ve never tried that.”

“Oh my god it’s the best.” You mumbled over a bite of food, swallowing it down “especially when the hashbrown’s extra crispy like this.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I got extras.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a true angel?” You asked and she laughed.

“Not often.”

“Well you are.” You leant in, kissing her cheek gently, “thank you.”

“Of course.” She squeezed at your knee, “I bailed on an arranged date, I had to make it up to you.” She gestured toward the tv, “now, what’re we watching?”

“Real Housewives. LA I think?” You shifted over to your right, nestling into the corner of the couch, your legs extending onto the longer part of the sectional as you adjusted the blanket. “It’s my brain rot show, I can never keep the cities straight. Now c’mon.” You waved her over to you, “make yourself at home, get comfy and put your feet up.”

Emily laughed softly, easily sliding in beside you as you pulled down another blanket to make sure there was enough for both of you. The sectional was wide, the extended portion more than spacious enough for you to both use it without being right up against each other. Not that that mattered, once breakfast was eaten and you just had coffee to sip on (you didn’t miss that Emily skipped coffee at McDonald’s, opting for a local shop a couple of blocks from your place so she could get your preferred seasonal blend) you were nestled right into Emily’s side. Her arm instinctively looped over your shoulders, encouraging you to lean into her. If you squinted hard enough and it wasn’t for the blustery weather outside the windows, it was like you were back on vacation.

With the television playing on, it didn’t take very long before you were drifting off, Emily managing to snag your almost empty coffee cup before the remnants split all over your couch. She was more than happy to let you snooze against her, your heart beat calm, thudding against her own rib cage and eventually lulling her to sleep too. Either one or both of you would wake up occasionally throughout the afternoon, sometimes shifting because of a cramped shoulder or foot, others because your bladder was screaming or because you desperately needed some hydration. The channel got changed a couple of times, flicking between a few options so you weren’t totally sucked into one overdramatic mess of somewhat real reality tv. Otherwise the two of you returned to your little corner of the couch, burying deep into each other’s arms with happy sighs and content little smiles. There wasn’t much of a better way to spend a Sunday.

At one point you woke up with a small yawn, rolling in Emily’s lap toward the arm of the couch to go back to sleep when a piece of your hair suddenly yanked. You thought it must’ve just been caught under your shoulder or her arm, it had been lose earlier, but Emily made a small noise.

“Sorry…” She winced and when you rolled your head back to look up at her she had a sheepish grin on her face and the ends of half your hair in her hands. “I got fidgety, needed something to occupy my hands.”

You let out a small laugh, carefully shifting so you were sitting at a better angle for her to continue the braid, “I, uh.. kinda wanted to ask if you would do it anyways but I thought that might we weird or something.”

“Not weird at all.” She assured, “as long as you waking up to some weirdo braiding your hair wasn’t weird.”

“You’re not a weirdo. If I woke up to Tony doing it, I’d kick him out.” Your body relaxed into her legs, “and.. for the sake of you not doing it, undoing it and doing it over a million times, the pink basket under the table has fidget toys.”

“You have a collection?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Heather started buying them for me because I kept fidgeting with and breaking her super fancy expensive pens.” You explained and she laughed, “and I’m not allowed to have clicky pens at important meetings anymore.”

“Such a strict boss.” She teased, her fingers softly tickling at the back of your neck, pulling a shiver from you before she dug around for an elastic to finish the first braid.

The afternoon continued much like the morning had, half watching shows, mild chit chat, cuddling and dozing as the skies turned grey and the rain started. The next time you woke up the sun was completely gone from the sky and the side Emily had been pressed into was cold. You were going to just wait a minute, let your brain realize what you were even watching when you heard the tell tale sounds of your pantry drawers being slid open and shut. With a yawn, you pushed up to sitting, looking into the kitchen over the back of the couch.

“Hungry?” You asked and Emily nearly jumped, letting out a small laugh as she stilled.

“Me? Your stomach was making volcano noises so loud I’m surprised you didn’t wake yourself up.”

“We can just order.” You offered and she waved you off.

“Nah. I think I’ve got everything I need I was just looking for your spices.”

“Small cupboard, top right by the stove.” You replied, watching for a minute as she pulled it open and plucked through them, picking out a couple.

Curiosity got the best of you and you stretched out your limbs, a few of them cracking, achy muscles finally feeling relief as you moved off the couch and padded into the kitchen. Your arm snagged around Emily’s waist and you pressed a soft kiss into her shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, and hey, we were both hungry and you were asleep. I figured the best thing I could do was snoop.”

“You want wine?” You asked.

“Please.”

Moving seamless through the room around each other you pulled down a couple of glasses, grabbing a handful of ice from the freezer for her glass before you popped a bottle of white, filling one up and sliding it over to her. You opted for red yourself, sliding the white into the fridge and the malbec back into the wine rack before you hoisted yourself up onto the corner of the counter. A happy hum left your lips when you took your first sip of wine, your body relaxing as you watched Emily move through the kitchen.

Every so often she had to ask you where a specific pan or utensil was but otherwise she had everything covered. She would never say that she was a particular whiz in the kitchen, but she could get a pretty good handle down on things, alter recipes to simplify them to what was on hand and go from there. The television was still going in the background, giving some background noise to the experience when the two of you weren’t talking.

You watched with a small smile as Emily popped two butterflied chicken breasts, coated with shake and bake into the oven. She turned back to the island, where she had pulled out all her supplies so she wouldn’t forget anything, glancing through them until she found the jar of pasta sauce.

“You have garlic?” She asked, raising a brow toward you, breaking herself out of her zone. She caught you half staring at her, hiding behind the rim of your glass and instantly felt the heat creeping up the back of her neck.

“Yeah.” You smiled, “powder’s in the spice cupboard, fresh is on top of the microwave.”

She chose the fresh garlic, swiftly crushing it and doing her best at mincing it up before tossing into a pan with some onion and oil.

“You want a hand?” You asked and with an almost shy smile she shook her head.

“Nah. I’m cooking for you; you just sit there and look pretty.”

“The hardest job of them all.” You mocked, a small laugh escaping your lips and Emily felt the blush creeping into her cheeks again.

Twenty minutes later and she was plating up a semi makeshift chicken parm for the two of you, spices added into the jarred sauce, and working with whatever cheese was in your fridge, but it smelt and looked delicious. You refilled both of your wine glasses, settling at the island to eat, groaning over how tasty it was. You teased Emily for never having cooked for you before, saying she was locked in and trapped now. She laughed, a glittering in her eye as she glanced over to you, a warmth blooming through her chest at the way you were looking at her.

Since Emily had cooked you ushered her away when she tried to help with the dishes, filling up her wine glass once more and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. With the kitchen clean, you flicked the overhead light off, scooping up your wine glass as you crossed back to the living room.

“Think you’ve got a movie in you?” You asked, noticing the way she was flicking through options on the screen.

“Yeah.” She looked up to you, shifting your preferred blanket out of your way so you could take your place beside her on the couch. “Figured I’ve got at least that much left before bed.”

“Did you want to stay?” You asked, tucking yourself under the blanket and nuzzling into her side.

Her scrolling through the app paused momentarily before it continued, “yeah. If that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect.”

**

Tony had been relentlessly bugging you for lunch, dinner, coffee, any kind of hangout since discovering you in Emily’s office. Knowing that he was likely going to press into things you didn’t really want to get into in public you’d finally said that as long as he brought takeout and a bottle of wine he could come over Thursday night. You’d picked through dinner at the kitchen island while you caught up, Tony surprisingly holding back while he listened about your vacation (that you held back plenty of details on) and he took some time to vent about the current NCIS/BAU case that was still open and struggling to move anywhere.

Eventually you dragged him and a fresh bottle of wine upstairs. All of the shopping trips over the past few months had your closets overflowing a bit too much for you liking and you wanted to get a head start on some spring cleaning. Your attention was mainly on pulling things out of your closet as Tony poked around your room as per usual.

“You know, if you know any FBI secrets, you should probably let me in on them.” He started, “I am an agent of the law after all.”

You nearly snorted, rolling your eyes and continued to ignore him.

“I mean, at the very least, should I think about switching departments? You think an SSA gets a better paycheque than us?  I could probably put in for a pretty smooth transfer after this case closes…”

“You’d never do that to Gibbs.” You interrupted, breaking off his train of rambling, “and Emily has family money, the job didn’t make her rich.”

Tony had been your friend for long enough that he didn’t need to be a profiler, hell he didn’t even need to be a special agent to pick up on the way your eyes lit up when you said Emily’s name. How you couldn’t seem to control your smile when you told him stories about the Maldives with a far off look in your eyes that you didn’t even register yourself. He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything, but he knew you weren’t just going to share it all at the drop of a hat, when it came to things like this, and planting the seeds he wanted to, he had to tread carefully. Even if the seeds had already been growing for weeks already.

“So..” he leant back into an armchair, crossing his arms behind his head, “tell me more about Emily.”

You cast him a look over your shoulder as you tossed another dress into the donation pile, “I already told you; we enjoy our time together. I’ve expanded my repertoire of fancy restaurants in DC, could probably compile a list for you. You want it in order of cost, food quality or first date to proposal?”

“Please,” he teasingly scoffed, “the food is the last thing I’m interested to hear about from your dates.”

“You know I don’t kiss and tell Tony.” You threw a balled up shirt at his face, “especially considering she’s currently your co-commanding officer. I don’t need you looking at her and knowing what she’s into, gross.”

“As entertaining as that might be…” he straightened out the shirt, folding it before adding it to the donation pile, “I was more curious about the other side of things. I mean… this is the longest you’ve been with someone in a few years.”

He caught the way your hands faltered, the dress in your hands nearly slipping off the hanger before you caught yourself, straightening it to return into the closet.

“Trust me, it’s not like that.” Laughing, you turned back to him, hands crossed over your chest, “She paid nearly sixty thousand for that vacation and that’s if the all inclusive comment was true and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. Then she tried to pay me on top of that for my time. I’m basically an over qualified sex worker.”

“As a member of law enforcement, I can confirm that you aren’t.” He replied, his hand reaching out as he started to fiddle with the jewelry stand on your dresser, “and if you were, the woman running an entire unit of the FBI wouldn’t be so happily enjoying it. It would be all secrets, dark hotel rooms and NDA’s.”

“Tony, lay off it.” You replied with a huff, turning back to your closet, “I already told you; I don’t have time to date.”

“You spent Sunday night with her,” he offered, “you’re hanging out with me right now. You even had enough time to swing by her office, which is in an entirely different district, in the middle of a work day, with lunch and you were there for at least an hour. Seems like you have plenty of time.”

“It’s not about physical time and you know it. It’s about, the emotional labour, having to be on all the time, getting through the awkward stages, fucking small talk.” Your fingers slid down a plum dress, pulling it out from the row of clothes and you felt your heart leap when you realized it was the dress you wore on your first real date with Emily, the one that was so rudely interrupted by her phone before you could even get a chance to kiss her. You groaned, letting the dress fall back into your closet to be kept, “dating fucking sucks.”

“We’re not talking about casual dating or swiping through apps and having to deal with a million first dates, we’re talking about Emily.”

“What about her Tony?”

“You wouldn’t have brought her lunch if you didn’t like her.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes to being her sugar baby if I didn’t like her. I stopped by because Heather basically ordered me to.”

“So you’re telling me things between the two of you are strictly contractual? Financial and sexual benefit only?”

“Yes!”

The way your heart was suddenly beating in your chest, the worry that was beginning to eat away at your insides was telling you that Tony was onto something. You’d been so surrounded by work it had been incredibly easy to shove your feelings down, only leaning into them when you were out with Emily, as if it was part of the show, part of the sugar baby package. It kind of was after all, the flirtation, the compliments, the making her feel wanted and appreciated, taken care of, it was part of what she was paying you for. You’d said it yourself; companionship was far more than just sex. Even if you had started to slip deeper into the role than you’d originally intended, developing real feelings, it wasn’t like Emily was on the same page, she was playing her part too. Tony was grasping at straws, no matter how hard he wanted to push his fairytale narrative, or how fast your pulse happened to be.

He seemed to be able to read your mind, see the hesitancy in your eyes as his nagging sank in.

“Hey,” he nudged at you with his foot, breaking you from your daydreams, “you can claim whatever you want, but you cannot deny there were more than just two wine glasses in your drying rack.”

“So?” Your brow furrowed, it didn’t matter if Emily had been over at your house, that was nothing new.

“There were also two coffee mugs, two full sets of dinner plates and utensils, which likely means homemade, not takeout. I mean, most situations like this everything happens at hotels, you guys stopped that months ago. That on its own is one thing, but your bathroom tells a different story?”

“Do tell Very Special Agent DiNozzo.”

“Second toothbrush, different set of shampoo and conditioner, perfume that is far too floral for you to ever wear, glasses cleaner on your nightstand and your vision is twenty-twenty. There’s a Yale hoodie on the back of your couch which is interesting considering you went to Georgetown and Prentiss has a Yale degree in her office. You keep two spare sets of keys on a hook in your kitchen and surprisingly, one of them is missing. I would say that’s the most suspicious part of it all, but don’t even get me started on these.” His hand lifted up the cardboard backing containing your starfish earrings and you felt your cheeks heat.

“Guess she saw them in the gift shop at some point and thought they were cute.”

“Bullshit.” He grinned, “when you found out NCIS meant time on the water, you were practically infatuated and wanted to know everything about it. I could’ve married you right then and there.”

“Yeah right.” You scoffed with a laugh.

“We had a movie marathon, I brought Splash and Mermaids, you reluctantly, and rather intoxicated, brought out Aquamarine. You love that movie more than anything and you never tell anyone about it unless you really trust them or care..”

“it’s not like it’s a take to the grave secret.”

“You were down in the Maldives, right on the ocean and got all gooey and starfish eyed, that dreamy smile on your face, swimming every day pretending you were a mermaid, that you were free and you told it all to Emily, didn’t you?”

“It might’ve come up.” You shrugged.

“And instead of her laughing it off or thinking it was childish or stupid she went out and found starfish earrings to buy for you and now you have a permanent and physical reminder of the trip and time spent together.” He placed the jewelry back down on the dresser, “I think the two of you might actually have something here and it would be a shame to waste it away because you refuse to talk about it.”

You cast him a look, one only a best friend of twenty years could fully understand without you saying anything and he shook his head with a laugh.

“I’m just saying, things seem a lot more comfortable and intimate than I would expect from a sugar baby relationship. Did she pay you for lunch?”

“Not with money.” The corner of your lips curved up and a smirk flashed across his face as he made a growling meow noise.

“What about Sunday?”

“I told her not to.”

“My point exactly.” He stepped toward you, softly cupping your face, “you’re happy right now. Happier and less stressed than I’ve seen you in years and I want to see you keep being this happy, don’t deny yourself that, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, finally dropping his hands, “let the girl who buys you starfish earrings and thinks they’re adorable be your girl.”

“Just help me get these bags out to the car, okay?”

_______________________

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