#butter writes

[peanutbutter-doodles]

Dew: Wow! Looks like the cat's out of the Bag!

Rain: huh?

Dew: The cat's out of the bag.

Rain: Why is the Cat out of the bag?

Dew: it's a Saying rainy.

Rain: But Why Would there Be A Cat In a Bag, in the first Place?

Dew: rain....

Rain''Tearing Up'' Who Would Put a innocent Animal in a bag!?!

Dew: OH MY FUCKING GOD RAIN!

[englishbutter]

Originally published on Substack, 22nd November, 2023. Link!

Since this essay is 18k words, I've included the first section below the cut and a link to the Substack article.

Character: ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ Plot: ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆ Prose: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ OVERALL: ★ ★ ½ ☆ ☆ ☆

Heavy spoilers for The Inheritance Cycle and, of course, Murtagh. Grab some water, this is a long one.

INTRO

Since this is going to be about both the Cycle as a work and how my relation to it has shaped my thoughts and feelings and so this analysis, let’s start with the context of me.

Like many 2000s nerdy fantasy kids, The Inheritance Cycle was my favourite thing on the planet.

When I was nine and the movie just about to come out, my mum bought me Eragon. I finished it within a few days and read Eldest equally quickly. Brisingr was the first book I went to the shop to get on release day instead of having a parent pick it up for me, and Inheritance was when I discovered the concept of preordering. I finished it four days after release and was left with pretty mixed thoughts on the whole affair.

Not liking Inheritance felt bad. Amongst other things, I thought it was overly long, I didn’t like that Eragon found the cache of dragon eggs that would allow him to effectively Ctrl+Z the Fall of the Riders, I didn’t like how he was squared up to fight Galbatorix with a convenient stash of Eldunarya left next to said eggs so it became a battle of slugging it out, I thought Galbatorix was more lame than ever with his comically evil villainy and less than satisfying boss fight, and I was so, so frustrated at Eragon himself for being … him. He was perfect — a perfect Rider, a master swordsman, a master magician, the celebrated son of a great man, and now the leader of the Varden, what with Nasuada’s mid-book kidnapping, all at the tender age of sixteen or seventeen. He was so flawless that he’d become divorced from what made me originally like him; the last hundred pages of Inheritance were a trek and a half. Gak.

But, hey, The Inheritance Cycle was my favourite thing, so it’s fine. I buried my complaints and went on with my life …

And now Murtagh has landed and I have finished it, and it’s unearthed all these half-finished thoughts from my tween and teen years that I want to put to bed. And we’re gonna do it with an analysis on Murtagh as a character over the course of the original series, and everything in this new book about him and Thorn.

Read the rest on Substack!

[anakur]

Cuddling him would include... (Featuring The Main 4 & Butters)

🌹| A/N : My first post ^^ I'm glad to have finished it though I am a tad bit worried over my characterisation of them. Guess that's just how I am haha

🥀| Warning(s) : slight nsfw implications- mostly parents' assumptions, but also during the last part for Kenny

Stan ⋆ ˚｡⋆🎧˚

Listening to music. Sharing earbuds or earphones. Especially when his parents are arguing (or if Randy is just... Being Randy)

You two are cuddling, as you look up, you see Stan with his earbud in hand, listening to the noise outside his room. He sighs before turning to you. He presses you closer to him as he turns up the volume on his phone. You wrap your arms around his neck and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch.

Smells like weed. Because,, Tegridy Farms.

Wears his beanie when you're cuddling. You take it off and he gets grumpy. Kiss him on his forehead in conciliation and watch as he gets that stupid Charlie Brown grin on his face.

The first few times you cuddled in Stan's room, he cleaned it up beforehand but after the first few times, he stops. Not to say his room is dirty, just, you may find an empty bottle on his nightstand, some clothes tucked underneath his bed or a hoodie draped over his desk chair, threatening to fall.

At some point Stan may get up to move it but it only ends up falling, so he leaves it on the floor. Next time you come over its still there (he swears he picked it up eventually and it just fell again)

The first time you two were cuddling he spent the majority of the cuddling session with his face pressed into the crook of your neck or your shoulder. You found it sweet. He was flustered, because in actuality he was trying to fight the urge to vomit. Eventually he has to excuse himself for a moment. Felt he messed up and ruined the moment, but his heart skipped a beat when he came back to see you waiting for him with open arms.

Kyle ⋆ ˚｡⋆📚˚

He finds drooling to be a bit gross, even though he knows it's not something you control. In the beginning of your relationship he will wake you up to tell you that you were drooling. Reasurres you it's fine when he watches you get embarrassed. Later on in the relationship, he'll just grab a tissue from the box on his nightstand and wipe it off himself.

It's what he keeps his tissue box there for. nothing else

Has to keep the door open, because his mom tells him to. Although his dad is a bit more lenient about it.

Sometimes when you forget about it, Ike will come into the room- having announced himself by a short knock at the door- as he stares at his phone and simply tells you:

" Mom says to keep the door open. "

Ike then proceeds to leave it wide open

" Close it halfway. "

He's already gone.

Kyle's the one who gets up to do it, leaving the door ajar. Everytime. Doesn't make you get up. If you ask for a glass of water, he'll also get it for you (and give you a forehead kiss). Don't abuse that power though, once you overuse it he'll start making you get it yourself.

Will not fall asleep when you're playing with his hair, but, he does feel very comfortable in that position

Says very sweet mushy stuff to you and gets embarrassed when he realizes you were awake the whole time. He trails off and stops talking.

Pushes you away playfully if you ask why he stopped or tell him to continue talking.

If you're watching a movie and cuddling, with a blanket covering you both, especially if it's dark outside and the lights are turned off, Sheila eyes you suspiciously when walking by. Staring particularly onto the blanket on your laps, covering you both waist down.

Kenny ⋆ ˚｡⋆🗑˚

Finds it cute when you drool. He'll chuckle and wipe it off.

Keeps his door closed. Hates it when you can hear his parents arguing. He would offer to share his ear phones but they're not in the greatest condition. Electric sparks flying and exposed wires. So, bringing your own pair would be very much appreciated.

Whispers mushy things to you when you're asleep. When he notices you're awake, he switches it up and starts saying dumb things just to make you laugh. Hears you give in and start giggling and he grins, acting surprised as if he had no idea you were awake.

When Kenny's household becomes too loud, he'll take you outside and lay on the grass together. Makes up constellation names.

It's the middle of the night while you're both sprawled out on the bed. You're sleeping and he's awake. He listens to the sounds outside the window and your breathing. When he hears you moving, he looks over and gently pets your hair, telling you to go back to sleep. His voice quiet and gentle.

be prepared for waking up and having Kenny casually mention he got morning wood

Cartman ⋆ ˚｡⋆🍫˚

Liane asks him to keep the door open but she's very lenient about it, by simply mentioning it as she walks by Cartman's room.

Also will bring you two snacks

Cartman is the type of person to tell his mom you're hungry, when, in fact, he was the one who suggested getting something to eat.

Flabbergasted when his mom turns to you asking what'd you'd like to eat.

Tries to cut you off, suddenly switching to 'we'

Smells like food.

Unlike the other guys he does NOT clean up his room beforehand. I believe however, his room is clean for the most part.

You had to nag him to clean his bed. Yes, his sheets are regularly washed and his bed gets made (both by Liane), but he eats in his bed. Which leaves some crumbs, that stay even after he 'sweeps them off' with his hands.

Imagine Liane's utmost surprise to see her darling son, Eric, on the bathroom floor, with his bed and pillow covers, squinting at the instruction on his phone. He mutters some swear words, before finally turning to her for help.

So the next time you come over, he had cleaned his bed hours before you came and restrained himself from doing anything on it until you arrived.

Actually gets pissed when you don't mention or even notice how clean his bed suddenly has become.

On second thought, he realized you probably will not praise him on a such a basic household task. But c'mon at least acknowledge it.

Lets you lay on him, sometimes.

He's watching some dumb videos on his phone as he had gracefully allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder.

You ask him to turn down the volume.

Fights the urge to not be a dick about it, and not raise the volume.

Begrudgingly he reaches for his headphones.

Once you fall asleep, he starts rubbing your back slowly. Immediately yeets his hand away when you wake up.

Doesn't want to deal with you waking up, even if he himself had also been awake.

" Eric... " you mumble, opening your eyes.

" Go to sleep. " he pushes your head down, as gently as you'd expect him to, onto the pillow.

" But I want water... "

" No. "

" ... What do you mea-"

" If you drink water you'll end up pissing yourself while you sleep. In my bed. "

"... That's not how it works. "

He then proceeded to press you into his chest.

" Fucking sleep. "

Butters ⋆ ˚｡⋆🌼˚

His parents definitely have him leave the door of his bedroom wide open. Not just slightly open. No, fully open. So, the cuddling has to be kept at a modest level.

Just sitting next to each other with some space in the middle between you both.

If his dad walks in, he'll stare at you, as to make sure nothing suspicious is going on.

If his mom walks in, she might remark how nice it is to have you over, asking if you two are comfortable and reminding to keep the doors open.

Holds your hand. Either your fingers are intertwined or he plays with your fingers as you talk, or just lay there in comfortable silence.

Falls asleep first, despite his attempts at staying awake, to make sure you sleep peacefully. However Butters is the one who wakes up first, so you just have him staring at you for a couple of seconds before realizing it may have come across as creepy and apologising for it immediately.

When you traced your finger along the scar on his face, he like squeezed his eyes shut at first. But then next time you ask before doing so, and he relaxes into it. Now he melts when you do it.

Would brush his fingers through your hair, no matter its length. But if his fingers get stuck he freaks out and thinks its his fault.

[willowser]

shouto accidentally gets drunk while out with you and some other friends and he's sitting there in the heat of the bar, watching you smile bright and laugh wholeheartedly with your hair a little messy and your eyeliner smudged a bit—and he gets suddenly and completely overwhelmed with the desire to kiss you.

which is exactly what he does when you manage to get him home. it's kind of awkward because he doesn't kiss many people and he's also drunk and gangly and looming over you, but you let him crowd you against his front door until the both of you nearly run out of breath.

and you push him away gently with a quiet laugh, telling him, "okay, slow your roll, loverboy. how about we do this when you're sober, huh?" because you're not sure if he means it and you don't want to get your hopes up for something he won't even remember tomorrow.

but he absolutely does remember it, and now he can't look at you without feeling that unfamiliar white-hot strike of desire lighting up his body.

[butteronabun]

diluc + EXES EXES EXES PLEASE (HIIII butter on a bun ^_^ i will Enable you because i have a playlist for him dedicated to this shit) + canon/modern au, etc — pick whatever YOU were thinking writing the request post + spin the wheel and pick a genre~ again, this request is an excuse to hear YOUR thoughts (i have some of my own)

extra: pick whether you want it to be she/her or g/n~ i’m fine with both 🫶

sincerely, 🥩 (who missed you and hasn’t caught up with recent posts bc i was busy </3)

wish that i had more of this borrowed time

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader exes au.

overview: diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

wc: 3.2k

notes: originally this was 5k words but that was so much & i didn’t want to complicate this more so TAKE IT 😙 this is also a bit open-ended so feel free to interpret this however you like!! also, additional notes will be in the end, so better check that out too :)

“You’re going to break that glass, Master Diluc,” remarks Kaeya Alberich himself, who is this close to purchasing popcorn to watch the ‘drama’ that he has been observing for a while now. Weinlesefest truly has its wonders – fresh wine, good company, and a brother who definitely still isn’t over his ex, even if said brother continues to deny it. “You look under the weather. Why not take a breather and enjoy the sights? You have a loyal staff that’s willing to oversee the Angel’s Share stand for a while.”

Diluc’s cold, unwavering glare remains on that face of his. Kaeya’s almost certain that comparing his ice from his cryo vision with Diluc’s expression will have no difference at all. “I am doing fine, Master Kaeya.” He looks down at the glass he has wiped for—Kaeya guesses—the fifth time now, and picks up another one. 

“Really? But it’s becoming a little hot, Master Diluc. I’ve noticed that as the minutes pass by, the temperature of the stand has been concerningly rising as of late. Are you secretly heating up some tasty bar snacks, or is it something else?”

Kaeya suppresses a smirk when the warmth around them subdues momentarily. He has one theory that he’s sure is actually true—a theory where that ‘heat’ is coming from, and it’s definitely not the wind. 

It’s the ninth month of the calendar. Summer’s already over. So it’s safe to say that. . .

“Don’t you have other matters to tend to?” Diluc narrows his eyes at him. Oh, changing the subject now, aren’t we? “Surely, Cavalry Captains still have to scout the area for any potential threats during Weinlesefest, or have the knights really gone incompetent?”

“Oh, you. Everyone deserves to enjoy the festival every once in a while,” Kaeya raises his keg playfully. “And that includes even you.”

Diluc just grumbles at that. Still stubborn as always, but Kaeya remembers the day when the traveler told him a few years ago that Diluc, despite isolating himself during the previous festivals, reveled. (Reveled on his own, was what they clarified.) It’s a comforting thought that even such a busy man as himself can still enjoy these moments.

And Kaeya wishes he’d see it more. 

Diluc willingly taking charge of the Angel Share’s stand instead of Charles? How endearing. Is it really because he’s here for the celebration, or something else? 

(Kaeya—and he’s pretty sure, Diluc is, too—hears nearby footsteps. Familiar voices.)

Or someone else?

Whatever it is, Kaeya is fine with either. 

“Still baffles me that my suggested proposals got rejected— ah, we’re here. Oh, hi, Kaeya!” 

Kaeya sips his beer and smiles at you. “Hey.” And he watches it all unfold again. You smile back at him, before slowly turning to Diluc, who has never taken his eyes off of you ever since your arrival. 

You hide a lock of your hair behind your ear timidly. “Hi, Diluc.”

It’s really fascinating to see his brother still so soft with you. People may not notice this, but Kaeya knows Diluc best. “Good evening. What would you like tonight?”

“Ah – my company here—” you turn to the man beside you, a fellow colleague perhaps, and Kaeya seriously has to control himself from smirking. The area’s heating up again. “—would like to try some of the Fruits of the Festival that we’ve been hearing of. Is it still available?”

Diluc nods. “Yours?”

“I don’t want anything, actually—”

“Please, don’t do that,” The man calls out your name, and steps forward. The warmth’s growing. “If you think that you’re treating me tonight, then I’ll be treating you as well. Bartender, I’ll be ordering Wolfhook Juice for this lovely lady.”

The man winks at you, confident with himself, until Diluc breaks the flair by simply saying, “She’s allergic to that.”

Ah, this is great. Kaeya’s considering if he should bring Rosaria or even Lisa along for the drama. 

“W–wait, really? You’re allergic to Wolfhook?”

“Ah, D–Diluc—” As much as Kaeya relishes in dear Diluc’s jealousy, your expressions are also just as priceless. Speechless that his amazing brother still has one detail about you memorized? Pfft. Such is a man of great talent who has a knack for processing knowledge in such a short time. He’s a businessman, after all. It’s important to know a lot of things. “You still remember that?”

Diluc doesn’t reply to that question. Instead, he goes on preparing the drink with ease and in silence. Kaeya can feel the awkwardness in the air as they watch Diluc swiftly mix the ingredients, and the man accompanying you merely coughs to dissipate the tension.

“So, um,” The man starts, “I’ve heard that Starsnatch Cliff looks beautiful at this time of night. I was wondering if you’d like to stargaze with me?”

You seem sheepish. “Oh, I—”

There’s a loud thud, surprising everyone, except for Kaeya and Diluc themselves. Diluc has placed the glass in front of the man, face emotionless. “It’s late. Dangerous, even. I recommend that you postpone such a journey.” 

Kaeya hides his smile behind his keg. Oh, Diluc. Could you get even more obvious? He wishes to voice out that poor Klee and the other children might get scared because of his ‘grumpy face’ again, but it is late and they’re not here anymore, so it isn’t a valid reason to mention. 

Oh, the area’s hotter now. The man is visibly sweating under the intimidating man’s stare. “A–Ah, I see- t–thank you for that then, good sir—”

“Diluc, don’t scare him,” you scold him lightly, and take the glass. “And we’ll be fine, I have a vision.”

His stupid brother’s about to protest, and Kaeya readies himself for another session of ‘Diluc Facepalming Himself Because He Made A Fool of Himself In Front of his Ex’ when you add on:

“Though, Diluc’s right. It’s dangerous to go out right now since I’ve heard from the outriders that the concentration of hilichurl camps around that area is growing in size again. So we shouldn’t go.” You give the man his drink, and gesture him to an empty table. “And didn’t you tell me you’re tired already? Why not sit down for a while?”

Once you two are seated on a table that’s too far for Diluc’s liking, Kaeya sighs and shakes his head. Diluc glowers at him. “What?”

“Attentive as ever.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Diluc says as he crosses his arms.

“The least thing you could do is be attentive to her well–being, even though you’re not her lover anymore?” The temperature intensifies. Oops. Kaeya stepped on something he shouldn’t. But it’s always so fun to get on Diluc’s nerves. “Admit it, you still haven’t moved on.”

Diluc then retorts, “Is it so bad to care for an old friend?” “So that’s what you call her now?”

“Kaeya,” Diluc warns.

“Diluc~” Kaeya pleasantly sings. Then, his lips part into an ‘o.’ “My, I smell something burning. Are you really cooking something up?”

Kaeya doesn’t bat an eyelash on the slightly scorched bartop.

_

Diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

He has too much love in his heart, and oftentimes, it causes him great anguish. 

He wanted to rip his heart out the night his father passed on. He wanted to stomp on it after causing Kaeya harm. 

And he wanted to abandon it, just like how you did.

“Let’s end this,” you told him one dinner, with your head dipped down, not wanting to meet his eyes. You trembled as you anticipated his response, but you didn’t get one. Diluc was left aghast. “This isn’t working for the both of us, Diluc.”

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr who dedicated his time to protecting the city and thwarting the enemies that threatened his nation. Such is the fate of a Ragnvindr who occupied himself with the winery’s business ventures. 

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr, who, despite having a big heart, had failed his lover. 

He wanted to say—maybe we could try again. I will be better this time. He knew he could solve this, if he could think of strategies to counterattack the abyss, or even keep his competitors on their toes with his new business plans, surely, he could remedy this. 

“I have too much on my plate. You have too much on yours. Let us end this before we affect each other.”

When your tears cascaded down your cheeks, Diluc wanted to wipe them away. But he couldn’t even move. Not even an inch. How could he, when his heart was being shattered to pieces? 

You had too much on your plate? Why didn’t you say anything? You know he’d always be here for you.

So why?

He wanted to say — then let’s face them together.

But you had other plans.

It was over. 

And he understood.

_

“How fortunate that our dear cutie decided to visit this year’s Weinlesefest,” Lisa says as she touches the petals of the cecilias. She’s here in Diluc’s garden. Lisa, for some reason, has the tendency to make unannounced visits. She smiles up at Diluc who’s observing her from the gazebo. “Don’t you feel the same way too, Diluc? That she’s here again, after almost two and a half years.”

Diluc crosses his arms. “I fail to understand why I’d have to voice out my opinions on the matter.”

“Ah, but didn’t you say something to Kaeya? Supposedly, shouldn’t you be happy that an ‘old friend’ came back?”

Diluc averts his gaze, and Lisa smiles even wider before tending back to the flowers.

“She favors these, don't they? Cecilia flowers.” Lisa sniffs one. This one smells very fresh. It’s as if all the flowers here are greatly taken care of. “Oh, this takes me back. I still recall how you and her first met. You two were so adorable! She used to chase you around, desperate for your attention. And despite your attempts to push her away, she still managed to win you over. Her blushing face was the absolute best when you gifted her a bouquet of cecilias. Really, who knew that you could get so romantic?”

Lisa lifts her head and fixates on the clouds. “She’s your first love, right? And you treasured her so.” She checks to see if Diluc’s still there, and he is. 

He’s still sulking like the baby he is.

“Diluc?”

Lisa can hear him murmur, but it’s not too audible for her ears to pick up. “I beg your pardon?”

“. . .her favorite.”

Lisa tilts her head. “Favorite?” 

“Cecilia flowers.” Diluc says. “They’re not her favorite.”

“Oh, my. So what’s her favorite, then?”

Diluc is reluctant. But he answers anyway. “Small lamp grass flowers.”

Oh, Lisa knows.

She just wanted to hear him say it.

_

No one knows how much Diluc has struggled during the first months of your breakup with him. 

He got moody, at times. Even slept in too much, which was surprising, because he wasn’t the type of person to sleep, not at all, when he had errands to run. He was a business owner by day, and a vigilante by night—he shouldn’t coop himself up inside his quarters all the time just to let his broken heart weep.

So even if those days, those weeks, those months, were nothing but unimaginable suffering – Diluc had to rise. Someone still had to face the darkness for the dawn.

The overseeing of the winery and the scouting of adversaries were great distractions to someone like him.

But he couldn’t deny the fact that whenever he was resting, or even had one moment of leisure, those thoughts canw creeping in. How were you? Where were you? Are you faring well? Do you still yearn for him, as much as he yearns for you?

Are you as ruined as he is?

Diluc didn’t expect that breakups could get this hard. He thought the drunkards in his taverns were over exaggerating it a bit too much because of the alcohol, but now, he could understand.

( He didn’t resort to alcoholism, though. )

He really tried to get over you. He really did. He really tried to forget. 

But how could he, when he cherished you so?

How could he, when his heart continuously ached for you? How could he, when he longed for you desperately after you left Mondstadt.

_

( ”There are plenty of fish in the sea. There are lots of daughters from various nations wanting to be your wife! Why not choose any of them, to fill that hole in your chest?”

The last time a patron told Master Diluc those exact words, he nearly banished them from his tavern. )

_

Moving on was not an option here, it seemed, when everything reminded Diluc of you. 

He saw you everywhere. You liked talking a lot, and he liked listening to you, even before you two were dating. Every experience, every anecdote, every musing, and every vent — he remembered it all. 

Diluc knew what type of coffee you liked. At first, you weren’t such a big fan of them, but you found one that suited your taste. ( “Just one cup is enough, though. Two or more will make me palpitate!” ) Pepperoni became your favorite pizza topping when you ate with Jean when she invited you for lunch out of gratitude. ( “Cheesy spinach is a close second!” ) You liked reading books and seemed to get lost in them a lot; you even excitedly discussed your reviews to him of the novels or pieces of information you’ve read. ( “Like can you believe it?! He had a twin brother all along!” or “Now I understand why you have such a big chair in your office! It’s because it signifies your status! ” )

You were so endearing. Diluc really, really loved every bit of you and made sure to give you the love that you deserved. He tried his best as he could to provide you with the affection that you needed.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

Because if it did, Diluc would still be here at his dining table, reading his documents and sipping coffee with you. If it did, you’d still offer Diluc one slice of pepperoni or cheesy spinach pizza after your lunch with Jean. If it did, you would still bother him underneath the sheets until late hours into the night regarding the mundane and the interesting.

Move on, they said. They were all growing concerned.

Move on, a rational part of him also said. It was for his own good.

But he had always been stubborn.

_

( 

“Master Diluc’s single?! Again?”

“The most eligible bachelor’s throne is his once more.”

“Back off, even if the Master’s single, he won’t give you no heed. Just give up.”

“Come on, support me a little! I just want to give him a good time. Don’t you think I have a chance?”

“Not one bit, lass. Not one bit.” )

_

Weinlesefest is in full swing—

“Yet here you are, moping.” A green bard sits on the pier beside Diluc, who’s currently throwing rocks onto the surface of the water. “Master Diluc, shouldn’t you be out there and celebrate? Or did you choose to stay here because you haven’t scored a date?”

Diluc narrows his eyes at him curtly, before throwing another stone into the water. 

“A silent treatment for me, I see,” The bard strings his lyre, “But I have no worry, for you’ll answer me eventually.”

Diluc sighs. “She’s occupied as of the moment.”

“Oh~? I see that the tables have turned, then?”

Diluc scoffs. Of course he also knows about what had happened before. “Really. What’s your purpose for being here? And stop with your rhyming. It’s annoying me.”

The bard snickers. Stroke a chord it seems. “It’s the second to the last day of this festive event, and I’ve yet to see you participate. Minus the fact of taking care of the Angel Share’s stall, but you must at least do something that’s not related to work.”

“It’s in my blood to dedicate myself when it comes to work.” Diluc throws another stone. “I have no other choice, Venti.”

“Yet here you are, skipping stones?”

“Here I am, skipping stones.”

The bard sighs sadly. As he kicks his legs back and forth, he says - “Do you remember the Thousand-Wind Wine Razor made with the Traveler?”

“Of course. The barrel they used belongs to my winery.”

There’s another silence. Then Venti speaks again. “The wind is many things, you know. It can bring back the soul, and especially, preserve memories—you know of the fact that dandelion seeds are added last as a way of capturing the wind at the very moment when the barrel is sealed. Meaning, the memory of that ‘moment’ is stored in the wine, for all eternity.”

“And your point is?”

“Let yourself be happy this once.”

_

After the citizens of Mondstadt welcomed the Anemo God, they all felt the gentle breeze kissing their skin as he graciously made himself present into the wind. The children cheered, and the adults raised their cups for a toast. Everyone was having a splendid time.

“To the Anemo Archon!”

You, however, have just finished preparing for your departure back to Sumeru. After packing your belongings and making sure you didn’t leave anything in the inn, you had to go find your companion — who’s still probably busy trying out new drinks. 

You sigh at that, a little amused. You also resign to this fate. The journey to Sumeru will have to wait until later. Plus, you haven’t even properly said your goodbyes to the others, so, there’s that. 

A polite cough echoes behind you. You turn around, and your heart flutters at the sight of a familiar man. Diluc.

“May I request a bit of your time?” He asks, always so gently.

You’re pleased and surprised, of course - because it’s Diluc. Diluc, who’s obviously seeking you, even if he’s made clear that he’s occupied with duties of the winery. 

You want to humor him a little bit, so you snicker. “But what if I don’t want to?” You gesture to your satchel. “I’m preparing for my departure, you see.”

Diluc already knows that, doesn’t he? He doesn’t even react. “If that’s the case, then I respect your decision.”

Oh, that’s a bit disappointing. You kind of want to slap yourself for that. You should’ve just accepted Diluc’s request instead of pulling stuff like this. Why play hard to get, when Diluc’s already—

“But I beg of you,” Diluc adds, and you blink. There’s determination in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat when you notice that there’s also something else. “Before you leave. . . please, spend time with me. All it takes is just a short moment with you, and I’ll be content. I won’t ask for anything more.”

—making initiative, huh.

How can you say no to that?

You smile at him—a little bit too tenderly. “Alright then, Diluc.” You lift a hand, gesturing for him to take it. “Lead the way.”

supposedly this was seriously longer, it had more plot ( i indulged on this way too much when i was writing this but had to omit a lot of stuff because i was getting overboard + wanted to more focus on how diluc interacts with his ex / what he feels about his ex / what he felt without his ex asfghjfk also, here's one screenshot before i deleted this part; i wasn't rlly kidding that it had more substance and it was originally angsty:

anw. shoutout to my bestie who brainstormed with me abt ex diluc hcs it was so fun. lemme share to y'all what we talked abt: 1) we thought that diluc is the type of person who’d date to marry, 2) his heart is so so freaking loyal he'd still pine for his first love, and 3) he falls hard and is stupidly sentimental plus. if he did have an ex, the breakup will def bother / ruin / devastate him, especially when he loved that person sm :(

[thatsbelievable]

[becca-e-barnes]

I’m literally drooling over the thought of sensitive Bucky whimpering and whining while fucking your tits and thighs he’s so pathetic and needy all he wants is to make you feel good and to fill you with his cum even if it overstimulates him

Okay, tit fucking is great and all but thigh fucking is SO underrated in my humble opinion. Could just be the fact I've got a small chest though lmao

It's so fun when you're already really into it and the insides of your thighs are all slick. I feel like Bucky would lose it, getting to see your face and look in your eyes and enjoy your body.

It's a nice one to do while laid on your side, facing each other. Although the angle isn't quite right for him to slip inside you, it's fun to explore the other ways your bodies can steal pleasure from one another.

"This isn't going to work, sweetheart." You can't help but laugh, having already tried everything you can think of to make the height difference work. There's no way to keep this romantic and intimate in that position because there's just no chance of aligning your bodies properly to allow him to press inside you.

"Maybe not. But it feels nice anyway." His eyes flutter shut, gliding his dick over the smooth, soft, warm insides of your thighs, encouraged by how slick and easy your arousal makes the movement.

You adjust yourself to bring your other thigh on top of his length, closing him in on both sides.

You're wet enough that friction doesn't impede his movement too much and there's something oddly romantic about it. Maybe it's his hand smoothing the back of your head or his other hand up your back, pulling your body closer to his.

It's so intimate, watching his face as he whines your name, rutting senselessly against your thighs. The little flush to his cheeks is beautiful and you can't resist kissing the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. The thick duvet on top of you both, coupled with your combined body heat means the room is far hotter than you'd planned.

You take a second to reach between your bodies, spreading your wet folds and readjusting his length, letting him drag his cock against your neglected clit with each stroke and oh, that's pretty mind-blowing.

"O-oh my God." He whines, desperately fucking himself against your wet cunt, rather than into it. It's a different kind of pleasure to being inside you and while they're not comparable sensations, it doesn't stop this from feeling fantastic.

"Fuck, that's good." You groan, rolling your hips to meet his. Your fingers dip between you once more, gathering some of your slick arousal, using it to glide your fingertips over the underside of his shaft and over his balls.

"Holy shit, that's - fuck." Bucky's hardly got a coherent thought left in his head. He's closed in on both sides by your wet, soft thighs and now your fingers are giving him a different sensation underneath while pressing him against your soaked sex.

"I know, baby. Feels good, doesn't it?" Your fingertips trail lightly back and forth over the underside of his shaft, focusing on the inch or so beneath the tip.

"I can't... I need to cum." He groans, thrusting frantically, clinging to your body to keep you close. Within a few seconds, you feel his dick pulse under your fingertips, his cum coating the inside of your thighs in hot, thick, messy spurts.

He doesn't waste a second, kissing your forehead before kissing your neck and whispering "Good girl. Now let me watch you get yourself off with my cum on your fingertips."

[starii-void]

hc that leo valdez eats thigns like peanut butter and nutella straight out the jar when he’s hungry/bored but too lazy to get anything to eat

Jason, looking for Leo in the Argo II: Hey Leo, how’s the progress on-

Leo, holding a jar of nutella and a spoon as he’s trying to figure out the schemes for something:

Jason:

Leo:

Leo: Look. I wanted sugar. I’m stressed

Jason: The dining room exists for a reason. You created it-

Leo, gesturing at the nutella jar, then at his schematics: Don’t question my ways.

[myokk]

💘

[dietdoubledewme]

scene that i definitely have in my drafts for me college au, just felt like drawin' it in case it doesn't make it into the final draft

[peanutbutter-doodles]

Dirty little Secret 18+ Mdni

Character : Neo cortex

⚠️ Warnings : Masturbation , Sex toys, Fingering , Dirty talk, pining (sort of?), fantasies, Vaginal, Ask to tag.

Summary :

''What the?'' Cortex quietly whispered, A little bewildered on how the same ad popped up now when he was just going to get off the computer. Ad always popped up but they were always different this was new, even for him.

Netherless, He read the ad over and it was the same thing but however something was different now. It gave Cortex a strange feeling. A feeling he usually ignores and never does anything for it. Feelings he feels for someone when he actually wants them.

A feeling that makes his cun.....

Cortex slowly sunk down onto the slick dildo, Quivering. instantly feeling his walls stretch around it, filling him.

''Fuck....'' He Hissed, gripping the pillow below him. It was too big for him, He should've check the size before he started this but was too distracted to do so due to it being a package he'd been waiting for months now.

He seen the object on a website late one night, when he was trying to get some research done and trying to finally figure out how to get rid of the pesky bandicoot. While he was doing some research, going from site to site. Tons of articles that can fill a room and enough coffee to go through to become a crackhead.

He stumbled upon a ad.

A shady but promising ad that can catch anyone's attention if they're willing to click on it that's all. A ad that can fulfil Anyone's needs if they were desperate enough. One that would appear in there time of need, and one hopefully with the right words that would reel the clicker in there grasps.

The words from what cortex can remember were....

Stressed out? Can't complete your work due to inconspicuous actions in your life? A partner that's not satisfying you at all? Or no partner at all? Lonely, discourage or probably even titillated?

Perhaps, this will help you if you just click right here and now~

Just. One. Click. Away.

The ad sounded promising but Cortex knew from experience that clicking on a ad and buying stuff from it was never a good idea. No Matter how they sounded or look they never come out like they actually are from the ad and always have to cost a lot of money.

He didn't want to spend money on something worthless that would not work for him. It would be dumb of him to do so.

Besides that, Yes he was lonely. Haven't never gotten close with anyone in his life or even formed healthy relationship with anyone. It wouldn't be good for him. Sure, he had crushes but never worked out especially if it's someone that he works with and sometime hates. it would never happen.

Stressed out? Everyone's stressed out not just him. Never had the time to just relax or destress with a quick session. Too preoccupied with world domination to even vacation.

Titillated? Fuck yeah, all the time. But it ain't always satisfying when it's just your hand or when it's fantasies. Fantasies that are often boring or too out there that you probably don't want to do when there's people nearby.

Cortex thought a little about it, didn't seem to care. So, he just closed the ad and continued on with his work till 3 am.

3 Am where things happen. Strange occurrences and probably even....

Naughty ones.

After he finished with everything and finally going to get some shut eye, the same ad from before popped up.

''What the?'' Cortex quietly whispered, A little bewildered on how the same ad popped up now when he was just going to get off the computer. Ad always popped up but they were always different this was new, even for him.

Netherless, He read the ad over and it was the same thing but however something was different now. It gave Cortex a strange feeling. A feeling he usually ignores and never does anything for it. Feelings he feels for someone when he actually wants them.

A feeling that makes his cunt soaking wet with need.

it was called concupiscent or in simple terms

Horny.

Cortex thought it was strange, usually it was hard for him. But as of now, it's just appeared easily and it was stirring little by little. He wanted to just touch himself but was too tired to do so maybe next ti-

FOR FREE TODAY!

When those words appeared, it got Cortex curious. What could it be when the same ad came back the same except it has the words free now. In Bright green.

He looked at it while it glows brightly from the screen, it was like he was in a weird trance. it captivated him, what could it be then?

Secrets to finally beating crash?

World domination?

Eternal happiness?

A New world?

Who knows except for cortex of course, only one click and it'll all be revealed.

In slow motion as time stood still, Cortex made a decision.

''Click''

Clicking the ad, brought him to a website. A website he never been on or heard of before.

It was called, Bad dragon.

''Bad dragon? Cortex said, ''What could be so bad about it?'' Cortex wondered, Looking at the site. He seen the words.

Making Fantasies Real.

The words leaving a strange taste in his mouth, as he read it. Strange taste he never had before but it made him salivate a little, He wiped a little drool off him using a tissue nearby.

Going thru the site was a experience to say the least, from pillows to shirts till the sex toys and my god. the sex toys.

from human like to whatever, It Shocked Cortex. He didn't know a site like this existed and how much dirty things were on there, pages to pages. It never stopped.

Things like this kind of was making Cortex feel like he had to go church to cleanse himself from the debauchery he was seeing, Too bad there was none around on the island.

After spending few minutes of searching and...Browsing, He found a really Realistic toy that look too real. Complete with veins, Smooth texture, Big balls and can be customizable if ya want a special one.

He looked at it and the longer he looked it, He drooled and Blushed at the sight of it becoming hot.

It looked so tantalizing to him. Tantalizing enough that he even wanted to suck on it.

Just the thought of it, Made Cortex slid his hand down into his pants. Pulling down his boxers between his thighs. Fixing his position and leaning back onto the chair.

He started to finger himself, biting his lip. His vagina was sensitive to the texture of his gloves he wearing and it was making it better and worse. Going against the skin gave Cortex a static shock feel of sort.

His finger going in and out, as he became wet. Making him moan.

He wanted a whole fist in him but he wasn't that brave enough to do it, it would hurt him.

Focusing on himself, It starting to get extremely good.

Bucking his hips up, Gripping the arm chair, Squeezing his legs together. Fingering himself more going up to three fingers instead of just being one.

Teeth going into his lip making him actually bleed.

Everything was Perfect!

''Yes..Yes...Yes..Ho-''

Till it wasn't.

''KNOCK!!!''

A loud knock was heard banging on his door as well a voice instantly catching him off guard and stopping his session.

''Master, You Busy in there?!?!'' The Voice said.

It sounded like N gin.

''Damn it!'' Cortex Grunted, Pissed off and annoyed now.

''I'm Coming in Now!''

''SHIT!!!'' Cortex pulled his pants up as the door began to open. He forgot to lock it! Fast as a speeding cheetah, He managed to clean his hands, fix the chair, his clothing and fix himself in a nick of time.

N Gin's foot came in as he stepped inside the room.

Cortex took a small breath before he turned facing N Gin.

''What do you need Gin? He asked, trying his best to not sound irritated.

N Gin stood there in silence with a blank stare, not saying anything.

Standing in silence for a few minutes aggravated Cortex, He was about to say something till Gin spoke Up.

''What website are you on? Doctor?'' He asked, Seeing bits of the website behind Cortex's head.

''Web-Website? What are you Ta-'' Stammering, He turned around. Not realizing he was still on that site. He Quickly exited out.

Clicking Twice.

Sweating profusely, turning around. Seeing N gin smile weirdly. It Freaked Cortex out.

''You saw Nothing Now, You Hear me? Nothing!''

N Gin shrugged his shoulders.

''Gin? Listen to me. Nothing!''

N Gin looked around giggling creepily.

''Gin, You listening to me?''

''As always Master.''

''Good...'' Cortex sighed, relieved.

''Now what did you want from me?''

And Just Like That, N Gin walked out.

''You got to be fucking kidding me.'''

The Rest was history after that.

XxXxXxX

Where were we now? Ah Yes.

Cortex was now laying against the pillow he was gripping harshly with the dildo half way in filling him up already.

Quivering as he just laid there taking in the sensation and trying to catch his breath while panting and whimpering. Laying there like a bitch in heat.

''S-s-So Full...Already..'' He stammered, Realizing he should've just checked the size once again but was too distracted. Distracted by the thick, girthy and veiny cock in him that stretched and rubbed against his walls effortlessly without even moving it himself. A cock that can give him a good night of pleasure if he just moved. A Cock with nothing attach to it.

One he's in complete control of.

And can grant him a good orgasm as well.

He was in control, no one can stop or humiliate him. or destroy anything. He actually has a goal, one that can be completed with no worries at all. This peaked him.

Realizing this, he sat up. Sinking onto the cock more now, grunting. Letting out a few whines too.

The Cock was now fully in him in all of it's glory.

Sweating, Eyes heavy, Shaking even Drooling.

He took a deep small breath and then....

Started to ride.

Viscously.

Slowly at first to fully savor the lovely sensations the cock was giving him. Clutching the pillow, lifting his hips up making the cock come out halfway then going back down pushing it all the way in.

Cortex did it a few more times feeling his Pussy starting to swell with heat and get wet the more he did it. Establishing a rhythm, that was making his face grow hot and burn.

The slow rhythm was making him melt.

He shook and whined, the tip going at his g spot lightly each time he went down.

It was working for him, but not enough.

Stopping his motions, he tried fantasizing. hard.

About who?

N.gin? Nah he probably be too annoying and won't get it up if he tried. N. Brio? Would be somethin...but definitely no. Uka uka?

Fuck no, How would that be possible. Cortex chuckled.

He was lost in thought till he looked around and saw a clock on the wall and that's when it hit.

The man he worked with all these years, the one he doesn't like sometimes due to differences, The man who rescued him a couple of times when he was defeated in battle. The man who could turn back time.

the one and only,

Dr. N tropy.

Who sometimes leave cortex feeling a bit flushed afterwards when they are working together.

''Tropy...'' Cortex blushed, embarassed by even thinking and grow hot cause of him. He hated it.

Hated how that man set him off at times.

A secret he wished hopefully no one would ever find out, His dirty little secret.

He started moving again, closing his eyes. thinking of N Tropy.

XxXxXxX

''Have You ever suck a dick before?'' Tropy smirked, chuckling a little at Cortex who was on his knees licking and sucking his cock. Cortex ignored him, trying to keep focus.

''I Guess that's a no then. Who knew your also bad at satisfying people, Do i need to become your master to teach you~?'' He sang, going on and on taunting cortex not knowing it's turning Cortex on.

His Pussy leaked, Good thing he was wearing black pants. Otherwise, it would've been a lot worse.

Cortex stroked and sucked him harder, hollowing his cheeks out.

Tropy groaned, Cortex going little by little down on him. Bobbing his head up and down.

Scene changes in Cortex head.

''Am i your first?'' Tropy softly asked, pressing cortex up against the shower glass. lightly stroking his back.

''Y-Yes-no-it's been a while...'' Cortex stammered, Feeling his walls stretched from the fleshy appendage. Shaking, His legs almost giving out on him.

''Do you want me to go slow?''

Tears peaking out, cortex answers.

''Please.''

N Tropy says nothing, only giving cortex kiss on his neck and phantom touches on his body as he starts to thrust.

He held cortex hips steady in his grip, so he wouldn't slip.

The moment between is pure bliss as Tropy and Cortex make love, The water racing from the shower head only making the moment between them better.

Tropy grunts while Cortex whines.

''Can i please look at you?'' See your face when i fill you with my seed? Making sure i give you the best fuck of your life?'' Tropy said, brushing his hand through cortex's hair and caressing him.

The Scene changes again.

Tropy Pounds into Cortex's ass, Slapping him leaving a big red handprint on him.

Cortex grips the table as Tropy goes ham on him.

''Dr!!! Cortex cried.

''What's Wrong, Pet? Cumming already? I'm not done with you yet!'' Tropy Yanked on Cortex's leash, Almost choking him.

Cortex coughed, trying to catch his breath.

The moment between them was intense, Tropy leaving marks and bruises all over. Calling him names and such.

''You've been a bad boy haven't you? Pleasuring yourself during a meeting, you thought i wouldn't noticed? Neo, i thought you knew better than that.''

''I Wasn't--AH--!!!''

''I was Right behind you, You forget i was there? Was your hand better than my cock!'' Tropy slammed in him, Hips meeting ass.

''Was it better than my hand? He slammed again.

''NO IT WASN'T!!! Cortex yelled.

A few more violent thrusts in, Tropy yanked Cortex completely to him. Holding him by his thighs.

''I wanna look at you when i come in you! You whore!''

One More Thrust in and Then....

XxXxXxX

Tears streamed from his face, as Cortex cried out.

Slamming his hips down faster at the his fantasy of N tropy fucking him, degrading and humiliating him plus much more. He didn't stop at all, The fire in his abdomen became stronger.

He became louder, he didn't care at this point. He only cared what's happening right now and how it's effecting him.

Would the real N. tropy be even gentle to him? Treat him nicely and take care of him after? or would he just fuck him raw?

Touch him or Choke him out?

Pet him or Yank his hair?

or even call him....

A Good boy?

Who knows, but the thought of it entices him more.

Fluids seep onto the bed, pussy becoming so moist. Gripping onto the pillow more, It's tearing a little he doesn't even notice. Doesn't even a strange noise when he moans loudly into the air like a slut.

He falls onto the bed clinging to it, Rapidly thrusting that sweet and delicious fat cock into him. Clenching around it, brought him closer to his goal.

He rode and rode, flicking and pinching his clit Eventually fingering himself. ''Oooooh this feels amazing'', He cried. Finger feeling like another cock in him, going against the dildo.

It was like heaven.

Sweat ran off his body, Hair disheveled, Leaking so much like a waterfall. Whimpering so much, anyone could hear.

A Filthy mess, he was.

Nearing his climax, he wanted it so badly. To Cum, Make a bigger mess.

He started to chant, words he never thought he say outload yet he was saying with no shame or embarassment.

''Tropy please.....let me cum....''

''Faster....'''

''I'm your whore....use me more please....''

''Cum in me.....''

'''Let me feel you release into me!''

''On my face please!''

''Tropy.....''

Cortex chanted more till he got stuck on one that urged him.

''I'm a good boy.''

''I'm a good boy.''

''i'm a good boy.'' He repeated over and over again, fucking like a rabbit in heat and then it happened.

''I'M YOUR GOOD BOY!'' Cortex Howled, Muscles tightening as he clenched finally Cumming and squirting at the same time, Mumbling out inaudible words that he doesn't even know what's he saying. Eyes rolling back.

He fell onto the back of the bed, panting. Shaking like a leaf, rubbing his thighs together feeling the total wetness between them. Fluids coming out more.

''That....was....'' Cortex trailed, didn't even have the words to describe what he experienced.

All he does know, is that he reached his goal and he was joyous about it.

Also, it was a explosive orgasm. the best one he had in decades.

Tired and sated, he wanted to go to sleep immediately but he has to take the cock out but he doesn't want to cause it's too good and probably he'll get overstimulated if he does. Then Again, it would be uncomfortable to just leave it in and just fall asleep. What if it gets stuck and has to go to the hospital? It would be embarrassing and a story to tell.

However, he could imagine someone cockwarming him and so he did.

Cortex went to bed completely covering himself with a new batch of blankets.

Laying there all comfortably now, He imagined someone probably even N Tropy holding or sleeping while there cock was in him as he twitch and let out a few breaths.

He was getting all hot and bothered, Feeling Himself, wanting to go again. Yet he didn't, he has dreams. Dreams he hopes will give him more.

His eyes fell, almost slumbering but not before saying.....

''N tropy....'' He muttered.

Eventually Falling asleep in peace.

And not Noticing or Hearing his door close as he slept. Behind the door, outside his room stood a figure.

A tall figure, with a shocked and heated look on his face.

Dr. N tropy.

______________

it is kind of true that cortex is hard to write XD, well anyway~

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated~

If wish to be tagged, message or inbox me.

Also On A03!

I Hope you guys enjoyed this!

[englishbutter]

Mirage’s story trailer: analysing the narrative

Originally posted here. This is part of a series of posts/essays I’m importing over from Reddit to Tumblr, because I like them and I want to sort them so they don’t get lost in my general comment history.

General housecleaning preamble:

This was written in the 24 hours after the drop of Mirage’s story trailer on 12 June, 2023, in response to a whole lot of crap posted specifically on the subreddit and Twitter about “the story won’t be good because it’s just pandering to the old fans”. Which I don’t believe. I’ve used my narrative analysis skills to break down the trailer and have a stab at what might happen, and the TL;DR of this is, I think we’re in good hands. The impression I’m getting on the story from this two minute trailer is that we might be in for the best AC story in a good long while.

But I also want to emphasise a couple of things.

Firstly, all of this is just a guess as to what’s in store based on the information solely given in the trailer. At the point of writing this, I hadn’t seen any other information released by Ubi (and I honestly still haven’t paid much attention to it). So although my attitude towards Mirage’s story is pretty positive based off the trailer, it doesn’t guarantee that the final product will actually be good, because as we’ve known for years, Ubi are masters at the marketing game. Secondly, as was pointed out in one of the comments I recieved on the post, this breakdown doesn’t take into account acting and delivery a whole bunch. So even if my story guesses are solid and turn out to be in the right direction, if not nailing it on the head, the presentation of said drama can be ruined thorugh things like AI cutscenes, poor voice direction, etc., which the previous RPG titles are notorious for. Because I approached this breakdown as a novelist where you don’t need to worry about this stuff lol

And now, onto the post.

At first I was going to only talk about Mirage's story trailer and why it’s promising, actually, but then it spiralled into a big thing about AC’s narratives as a whole: An Analysis (Reddit post, 13 June, 2023)

Hi. Maybe you’ll remember me from hit posts like Assassin’s Creed isn't about Order vs. Chaos, or that one time I wrote a 165k book about Connor and Arno vs. Shay. Point is, I write a lot about Assassin’s Creed and its narrative, and I’m here to write more about it now that we have more information on Mirage’s story and why I think, despite so much negativity towards it, we’re going to be just fine, actually, and how we could be in for the most interesting Creed-story in a decade.

Buckle up, this is a long ‘un.

For years, we, as an online community across multiple platforms, have been talking about how “AC isn’t AC anymore”, and one of the topics that gets brought up repeatedly is the story. The narrative isn’t as good anymore; I want them to talk about the philosophy of the Creed just like they did in AC1; I want interesting characters who are themselves instead of these ‘choose your own adventure’ RPG games; etc. And it looks like, with the new drop of Mirage’s story trailer, we have what has been asked for.

Yet sadly, but unsurprisingly, I’ve seen many complaints across social media following the trailer drop saying that what we have been presented on the narrative is crap. It’s nostalgia bait. It’s just trying to trick us again. To which I say, “Huh?”

Look, I get it. I get that many people have been so burnt by the series that this response is akin to an automatic reflex to protect yourself from disappointment. I get the cynicism people are feeling because the last game’s marketing was focused on “returning to the roots” and it did not meet expectations. I get it because people want to go to the timeline where we have a game that is a direct improvement on Unity, or pulls more from Ghost of Tsushima. I get it. I have been there. I understand. I’m here to try and assure you that we seem to be in good hands for the story, at least.

I’m not going to talk about the gameplay (aside: Assassin Focus is friggin’ sick, nor is it a magic teleport à la Odyssey), or the graphics, or world design, or anything else. I’m going to leave that to people who are smarter than me in those areas, but narrative is what I’m smart in. So, let’s have a look together.

We’re going to be talking spoilers from here on out, but getting into detail about endgame Valhalla spoilers in relation to Mirage, which I will mark if you would like to remain unspoiled for that. Also, we’re going to be doing a lot of groundwork first before getting into the actual analysis of the trailer, because I need it to properly talk about the trailer in the context of the wider franchise. Thanks for your patience. I promise that, if not interesting, it’ll be worthwhile (high-five to fellow narrative nerds).

Okay!

First, we’ll go briefly back to the beginning of the series and so the game that started this giant love affair. AC1, and the Creed. I want to start here because the heart of the trailer is about Basim’s relationship to the Creed (which for now, we’ll just say is complex, further supported by what we know about him from Valhalla), and it also touches on what we the audience want and expect from explorations of the Creed, and why those expectations might not be the best approach to story.

There’s a gorgeous article I often point people towards regarding audience reception to Star Wars, written by the incredibly empathetic and smart Film Crit Hulk. The Beautiful, Ugly, and Possessive Hearts of Star Wars. Though I highly recommend reading this article, the reason I’m bringing it up now is that, in summary, it makes a deeply resonating point: we care so much for the things we love because of the way they spoke to us when we first fell in love with them. For Star Wars, it got many of us as children. Watching A New Hope for the first time might have imparted your love for Luke as a heroic Jedi Knight with his lightsabre, or the overwhelming arc of good vs. evil in the Rebels vs. the Empire, or it might be for the resonate message of hope, etc. Hulk calls this “the Core”, and the idea behind this is, it’s what drives the love for Star Wars in each individual. It’s the thing that captured your imagination about it above all else, and when that “Core” is challenged or damaged, then it makes people furious. It’s why there was such split reactions towards The Last Jedi. It’s why we’re currently in a Renaissance for the Prequel Trilogy, and why I’m expecting in ten years to see a similar resurgence of love for the Sequel Trilogy. And something similar has happened with Assassin’s Creed. We all love it for different reasons, be it its roots in historical adventure fiction, its particular flavour of a hyper-competent killer (and the and/or nature of sneak vs. battle master, which is more commonly divided by the fandom into stealth vs. combat), its gameplay functions (“classic” vs. RPG) … you see where this is going. We all have our own “Core” for AC, and Ubisoft has not been able to reconcile what I call the “classic Core” fans and the “RPG Core” fans.

Why are we talking about this again? Oh yeah, we were talking about the Creed in AC1 and how that relates to Mirage.

AC1’s focus on the Creed is praised by some to be thought provoking and driving Altaïr’s development, which is all true, but I feel many people get wrong as to why this works as it does, and ignore that for many, it did not work. See all the jokes about making Altaïr spin in circles in Al Mualim’s office as they’re waiting for him to shut up. So, in the second last bit of introduction for this essay, I want to briefly discuss character vs. plot writing.

Plot writing is where the story is being driven forward by the demands of plot. “Oh no! We have to stop the bomb from blowing the city up, and every action we shall be taking shall be focused on doing that!” The Avengers movies are good examples of this.

Character writing is when the decisions made by the characters are driving the plot. “Jane is hiding secrets from me, and so I’ll react in response to that.” This results in more drama-driven stories; stories about characters doing things because of other characters. This is stuff like Arcane (especially Arcane; my God that show is built like a Swiss clock) and House of the Dragon.

Then you have media which is a mix of both. Things like Into the Spiderverse (another Swiss clock uunf) is a mix. Miles and Peter have to go to Alchemax to steal the information on how to shut down the collider (a plot driven need, because Miles, trying to master his spider powers, has accidentally broken the USB that 1610 Peter Parker acquired to shut down the collider), but the heist goes horribly wrong because Miles is trying to help 616B Peter with Kingpin’s unexpected arrival but, again, doesn’t know how to use his powers (a character driven development).

There is not one formula that is better than the other. Different story techniques are different tools, much like how you’re not going to use a saw to hammer nails into wood. And we’ve had both kinds of writing in Assassin’s Creed before that work really well! AC2 is primarily plot-driven, Unity is primarily character driven, and AC3 is a mix of both. But Mirage’s story trailer is tickling all the right areas in my brain for a character story. We’ve established that the main conflict is within Basim’s relationship to the Creed, how it demands his unflinching loyalty to the hierarchy of the Brotherhood and yet preaches freedom at the same time.

I think people focus so specifically on “we want a good game talking about the philosophy of the Creed” because that goes back to their “Core”. It made me think, it made me care about Altaïr as a character, it made me invested in what was going on in the story. And this is great! But you also have to recognise that if you talk about just philosophy, it has the danger of steering straight into almost unwatchable/unretainable territory. Think of the scene in the second Matrix movie where Neo, Trinity, and Morpheus go to talk to the Merovingian at the restaurant. Most of that conversation was all about philosophy (causality, for those who would like the reminder), and most people found it boring to watch and didn’t remember most of it even directly after it was done. When you rewatch the scene, or you write out the dialogue and take time to analyse it, it’s really interesting! It’s thought provoking! But it’s not a good watching experience. What most people came away with from that scene was, “Did he just give that woman an orgasm via spiking her cake?” So how do you fix this? You dramatise it. And the AC1 team were successfully able to dramatise the philosophy in AC1 that it captured enough people’s imaginations to go on and spawn the other philosophical parts of AC later. Ezio’s actions in Revelations. Haytham’s conflict with Connor in AC3. Shay’s torn loyalties between duty and what is morally right in Rogue. The conflict between Arno and Germain (once you get through the … lack of presented information) in Unity.

You can argue that the philosophy about the Creed has eaten itself to nothing in the last few games. That there’s nothing left to tell after fifteen years of the same damn thing. But I disagree.

The way to make the philosophy interesting isn’t to discuss the Creed as a concept of itself, which I see a lot of these requests asking for. We’d have wrung ourselves dry of that years ago if we did that. So, how do you fix that? How do you make it interesting whilst continuing to make a video game that is financially successful? You make it about character relationships to the Creed. On a narrative level, those possibilities are endless.

And Basim’s faceted relationship to the Creed looks to be shaping up as character and philosophy coming to mix. Which leads us finally to the last bit of groundwork to get into before the trailer stuff: Basim himself.

Valhalla spoilers below.

When we’re first introduced to Basim, all seems well on the surface. He’s a powerful figure in the Brotherhood, both as an experienced killer, a worldly traveller, and a teacher. Yet there’s something off about him; maybe it’s the lingering camera shots where he’s just standing a bit too off-puttingly. For someone so high up in the Brotherhood, he too seems awfully callous about Eivor having the Order’s secrets whilst not being a member, an attitude directly contrasted to Hytham who objects to Eivor’s schooling after just having met her. Basim’s also very closed about why he and Hytham have come to Norway. Basim talks big about how they’ve come to hunt down members of the Order of Ancients, but there’s certainly a sense he’s hiding information. That his friendship with Sigurd isn’t all that it seems, and that there’s a deeper arrangement going on that we are unaware of.

That arrangement, of course, being that Basim tries to help Sigurd unlock his godhood. Again, there’s a sense that Basim is hiding something. Why would he do this? And Eivor pushes back on it, but she’s helpless as she watches Basim and Sigurd go down the path of madness together, putting not just themselves at risk, but the clan, too.

At the end of the game, the truth comes out. Basim was using Sigurd to get to Odin, who he did not realise was reborn as Eivor until the climax. Why? Basim is the reincarnation of another Norse god, Loki, blood brother to Odin. And Odin imprisoned Loki’s son Fenrir for fear of prophecy. Now Loki-become-Basim wants revenge.

Basim in Valhalla is a man who has gone beyond being tied to the Creed and will only have it in his mouth and wear it as it suits him. He is unshackled, so to speak. He is his own agent, and we’ve had to take the entire game to notice that that was what was off about him when we first met. And one of the questions we should get answers to in Mirage was how he became the way he is.

End Valhalla spoilers.

Mirage takes us back twenty years before the start of Valhalla to a younger Basim. A street thief who is suffering from hallucinations and nightmares of a “djinn” that he alone endures. On a surface pass of this, I think it looks great. The trailer has a clear narrative throughline of Basim being saved by the Hidden Ones and joining them, but soon finding out that what was sweet at first bite, a promise of freedom, has turned somewhat sour. Basim is made by other characters throughout the trailer to question both his place in the Brotherhood, what they’re doing, and what he is, a question that cannot leave him alone as he continues to be haunted by his visions.

This throughline is fascinating to look at. You have a strong premise and strong conflict, and you can start to piece together the shape of what the story is going to be about. You know how I said before the trailer gives me a strong impression that this will be a character-driven narrative? Let’s dive into that. And we’ll talk about the Creed at the same time.

What I think looks strong narratively about this is you should be able to play Mirage without knowing how Basim’s story goes in Valhalla (there is another marked section of Valhalla spoilers later, but otherwise I’ll only be talking about the content of the trailer). This is because the narrative looks contained. We’re not introduced to Basim as a “you already know who this is because it’s a prequel!” character, but instead as a new character. He is a street thief, and he sucks at it because he’s just been caught by two guards and is about to be punished by them. But then! Shock and surprise! Basim is saved by a powerful warrior. She grabs him and tells him to follow her, we have to go! Basim has no choice but to do so as she clears an escape route without trouble. She leads him up to a leap of faith spot and gracefully jumps.

Basim, on the other hand, is clumsy and doesn’t know how to do a leap of faith. Off he falls into the river below. I actually went “Ouch!” upon watching the trailer for the first time because he lands in the water on his back. Painful! And not only does it lead into a classic shot of a person being swallowed by black waters, but it’s so perfect an illustration of a character who isn’t competent in the world they're about to enter, and, of course, what that world will turn them into soon.

It can also be symbolically read as death and rebirth.

After Basim has been dragged out of the water, we then cut to a campfire and have talk of the feather ritual. I was kind of shocked to see people reacting negatively to the inclusion of this. The most common criticism I’ve seen of this scene (this isn’t including the AI animated cutscenes or what have you) is that it’s nostalgia bait! It’s one of those pieces of marketing that is trying to trick you into buying this game! I think this take is the culmination of Internet-flavoured cynicism. Maybe these critics are right and marketing is part of the reason why this scene was included in the trailer, but narratively, this scene is excellent because it starts to put down the base of where Basim’s psychology starts. After Basim, obviously by himself, has been rescued by Roshan, this cut establishes camaraderie between members of the Brotherhood. A sense of community and belonging, which is something that Basim is painfully lacking. But the other thing it does is offers Basim purpose. If he can join this Brotherhood with its close connections and rituals, and if it gives him the power to save other powerless people like Roshan saved him (not only from death, but from a life of oppression and/or scratching by), then it is an opportunity to find himself, to be part of something greater.

Because the “job” of the first part of this trailer is to mythologise the Hidden Ones in Basim’s eyes and show his radicalisation to the Creed. It’s getting him to care so much about this that he pledges himself to the Hidden Ones and to put him in a position where, once he emerges from the bubble that is Alamut, the world starts chafing against his ideals when it doesn’t offer the simple existence presented at Alamut.

Radicalisation to the cause is actually what a lot of the other Assassin stories have been about. It’s Altaïr’s story, it’s Ezio's, it’s Edward’s. Arno suffers consequences for not being radicalised to the cause (expulsion from the Brotherhood for one). And for the reverse, Shay’s story is about his slow conversion from an Assassin, to a wayward lone wolf, to a Templar. It’s about why should these people take up these causes and devote their lives to something that won’t be remembered in the history books, and why they choose to become one of endless, lashing waves throwing themselves against the breakwall.

And Basim’s radicalisation is further cemented in the trailer by Roshan directing him to strike down the Order of Ancients. “The Order has held dominion over man and their empires for centuries,” she says as she hands Basim a feather. Go forth and kill.

Something that I’ve always wanted to see in an AC game is a character’s reaction to the first time they kill someone. From the top of my head, there are two times we’ve seen this talked about in the franchise, and one of them I don’t really count. The first is Shay’s reactions to killing his Templar targets at the beginning of Rogue. He isn’t happy about it, and it’s the first crack set that ends up with his defection. But this is the one I don’t count because Shay’s issue isn’t so much with the act of killing, but with the why behind the killing. The second time is in the novelisation of AC2, when Ezio kills the city guards who come to arrest him just after he’s claimed his father’s arms and armour. Ezio is completely shell shocked when this happens. He’s just killed someone. Oh my God, he’s killed someone. That has an impact. Taking a life is no small thing, and I would like to see the weight of that addressed for once in this franchise. And I do wonder, given the theme of this trailer, if we’ll finally have this. I hope so, because it seems that it’ll tie perfectly to Basim’s arc.

Because the arc is heading in a direction that only Rogue has really touched on. That being the crash from the high. What happens when you’re no longer a believer? What happens when you look back down the path of your life and reflect on the things that you’ve done … and you’re not sure of it?

What if you’ve got buyer’s remorse for this Creed?

You want AC philosophy? Well, here you go.

The trailer then cuts to a voiceover that introduces the main character conflict on the Brotherhood’s side. “Swallow your questions. Serve without complaint,” a woman says. Her name is Nehal, and she’s Basim’s childhood street rate friend. As such, they’re close to each other. Nehal’s talking about his relationship with Roshan and seems to be ranting to him about how Roshan treats him. Maybe Basim has been venting his frustrations about his teacher to her, and this woman is trying to help him. But there are two main points here that are important – Basim is having second thoughts about the Brotherhood, he’s frustrated with them (it’s unclear at this point if he has brought this frustrations up with Roshan yet), and secondly, his relationship with Nehal is important. They’re in each other’s corners, and it might feed more conflict into Basim and Roshan.

The trailer then goes further into establishing the conflict between Basim and the Hidden Ones. “Everything you do serves the Hidden Ones. That is a strange kind of freedom.” This is said by another important character, Ali. There is tension there. Basim is obviously having doubts about his role in the Brotherhood, and it’s not helped by other people feeding into it.

This conflict of interest is further hammered on with the rawest line in the trailer. “You are not the first to walk the shadows broken. Pour your pain into the Brotherhood.” On this note: Acting! I love Basim’s expression. Honestly, he has lots of good micro-expressions in this trailer, and I adore it. In this shot-reverse-shot, you have this deep anger and frustration in him that’s barely being held back. And this frustration is so compelling because it screams to me that Basim is trying to communicate with his teacher, perhaps by telling her about the djinn, perhaps by sharing his doubts with her about things that have happened either in the plot or his street rat backstory, but he’s being rebuffed. He is not finding help here. He is still alone. That’s going to pour more fuel onto the fire for certain. Because the other emotion I read in his body language here is this painful acknowledgement that he is not going to get the help, nor the understanding from Roshan that he needs. Because pour your pain into the Brotherhood sounds an awful lot like a deflection after she and Basim have had a fight about personal torments plaguing him.

And the tragic thing is: this is good advice for a lot of people who come to the Hidden Ones. They are made up of people who have been hurt by the imbalances of society, and that is a rage you can direct back towards helpful sources. But it’s not good advice for Basim, much like Yoda saying to Anakin, “Just turn off your emotions lol,” was terrible advice.

Oooh the drama’s cooking.

Almost to the end of the trailer!

“We are messengers of justice, and not the final judges.” I’m going to have to think more on this, as I’m not sure how it relates to the trailer’s narrative throughline here right now, but I shall think on it. For now, I would say this is a calming line, a way to cool the heat the rest of the trailer has built up between Basim and the Brotherhood. We talked about radicalisation before, and this might be here to remind Basim that he needs to sit and calm down a moment before doing something stupid he’ll regret. What that might be, I’m not sure, but it might be taking action against the Brotherhood. Just a little treason.

And finally, to round this out, we come to the djinn. My God I’m so excited to see what happens with this, Ubi don’t let me down.

I talked before how I don’t think this is a Rogue situation where this questioning of the Creed is coming from Basim having moral thoughts about killing people. I think it comes from his conflict with the djinn. “He knows not what he is.”

The djinn is so interesting. I want to take a stab in the dark here about what the djinn’s narrative purpose here is as a devil on the shoulder, but I think it ties into Basim’s relationship with the Brotherhood. Basim is haunted by this terrifying shadow demon only he can see, and I’m sure if someone as powerful and confident as Roshan and the Hidden Ones came into your life talking about freedom, Basim might see it as a chance to finally escape this horrible thing in his head. To get away from the nightmares that he, tragically, has no chance of escaping. And the Creed can’t help him with that.

Valhalla spoilers once again.

In fact, the Hidden One’s work might only make the problem worse because it has been established in Valhalla that the consciousness of the reincarnated Precursors are brought about when their previous lives and their current lives come closer to each other. This was why Tyr awakened in Sigurd when Fulke cut off his arm. This is why Odin started to awaken in Eivor the more she stepped into a leadership role. And this same pattern starts awakening in Basim’s life earlier than Eivor and Sigurd’s did. Because Basim is a thief, he is a rogue, and as he becomes a Hidden One, he becomes a killer, all of which feeds into the bursting dam that is Loki’s life.

In light of this, I’m expecting that the problem of the djinn will only become worse the further we go on in the game, that we’ll be seeing it more and more until Basim is so far pulled down by it he might go to it to try and escape (“He in his madness prays for storms, and dreams that storms will bring him peace.”). Because it might end up being Roshan who is the final straw on the camel’s back. Not through any fault of her own, but because her leadership, her existence as Mentor, caps the concept of “freedom” the Hidden Ones represent. Basim can never be truly free if Roshan is there. Just like Loki could never truly be free until Odin was gone (remember from earlier, Basim is challenged by Ali asking about his “strange kind of freedom”. Freedom seems to be a massive theme of this story).

Mirage has been described by its devs as “a story of tragedy and madness”. What better way to do that than this?

End Valhalla spoilers.

“Have you not wondered at your nature?” I like how this cuts into the menacing shadowed-face shot as Basim rises, a hooded killer. Good silhouetting with the beaked hood as well! Woo! And if you’re not yet convinced about Basim’s wavering on the Creed, how much the djinn will be affecting his arc and his choices, the trailer song, How Villains Are Made by Madalen Duke, is practically screaming this theme aloud. Just look at the lyrics!

And that’s what I’ve got to say about the trailer, about AC’s narrative direction as a whole, and, for the first time in years, why I think we’ve got some good reasons to get excited about an AC story. It seems character driven, full of juicy, interpersonal conflict, and is the story of a young man who goes from a scrawny dude getting his arse kicked, to a powerful Hidden One, to someone who’s had the light beaten out of them by life, his fracturing mind, and deeply tragic circumstance. Some other bonus things from the trailer I would like to know about:

0:57, the silhouettes behind Basim in the White Room. Who are they? Also, the White Rooms once again looking awesome.

2:00, there’s a guy who comes out from behind the pulpit speaker. He seems to be Basim’s target here, as Basim only engages the hidden blade once this guy comes into view. I wonder if he’s an important target.

2:07, Basim and Nehal seem to be fleeing from Ali. Is this part of the story's conflict? Or is it only trailer editing?

2:09, a merchant looking guy backhands street thief Basim. This might be a representation of the “inciting incident” that landed Basim in his position at the beginning of the trailer. Note that how Roshan saves him in the announcement trailer vs. the story trailer take place in different locations. Same thing might be here for Basim stealing from others. (The room’s blue and orange lighting too is gorgeous.) I think that we see the djinn directly after this might be the first djinn cutscene in the game, based on Basim’s outfit.

The other thing that gives me hope that we could get this great story too is the game length. The devs have said the narrative will be about 15-20 hours, which is a fantastic length of time to explore a drama like is being promised in the trailer.

And, on top of that, if it’s relatively fun to play? I’m game.

[1driedpersimmon]

Uhhh Haursame sesafaunt… something… whatever these two

[blaisenova]

hello, my beautiful, awesome, coolest husband.. ♡

I demand a killer x dust fic !!! do it!!! It's an order!!

thank you ❤

your wish is my command and all that

putting this one under the cut since it's got some vulgar language and is just generally pretty toxic. y'know, it's killer and dust. all par for the course LMAO. also i would just feel bad taking up too much of someone's dashboard if they weren't interested XD

as usual, the link to this fic on ao3 will be in the reblogs, and if YOU want a fic like THIS!!! my requests are open. i cannot promise swiftness, but i do my best

please do enjoy :)

or don't. i can't make you

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“Oh, lover boy!”

That lilting voice was carefully crafted to be as infuriating as it was unmistakable, and the reaction it evoked was equally instinctual; the tensing of the shoulders, and the crackle of magic. Dust didn’t have to turn around for Killer to know exactly what expression would twist his features: one of undeniable annoyance; thinly veiled fury that Killer knew exactly how to pull taut until it snapped.

The moment he laid his hand on Dust’s shoulder, the skeleton whirled around, hand wrapping around Killer’s neck as he slammed him into the wall. The impact was enough to rattle the glass lantern mounted high above them, providing a meagre amount of golden light that was just as quickly swallowed up by the castle’s darkness. 

Nevertheless, Killer didn’t even flinch. In fact, his grin widened. “Geez. Handsy today, huh?”

And, there was the snap; just as sudden and quick as it always was.

A growl erupted from Dust’s throat as his grip tightened enough to hurt. “What the fuck do you want, whore?” he snarled, sounding every bit as furious as he looked. “Haven’t you been indulged enough today?”

Indulge he had, but wasn’t indulgence the point of their missions in the first place? Nightmare had plenty of negativity to not only survive on but, also, to thrive, but that never stopped him. Plentifulness, Killer had learned, was naught but a tool through which to obtain the true ecstasy of life: shameless, unnecessary indulgence. 

Gluttony was one hell of a sin and, often, Killer found, lust went right alongside it. Pleasure of the body was far holier than pleasure of the mind, for not even the most powerful of deities could take away the physical sensation of pure instinct; not even his own, innate numbness could douse the heat sparked between one body against another (or, more, if he was really feeling shameless).

Whore, Dust had said, and wasn’t it true? 

He knew how to use his body to draw attention, and he did just that. He’d pluck the frayed string of his soul and offer it to whoever would take it so that they could pull him apart at the very seams, and, then, he’d thank them. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being unravelled, over and over again, and, so, Killer indulged in it. If that made him a whore, then he’d be one gladly.

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” Killer drawled, undeterred. “I’m afraid I’m entirely insatiable, as always.”

As if disgusted – and maybe he was; Killer was never sure – Dust immediately released his grip, backing away and grimacing at his hand like it had been contaminated. Then, his vitriol turned right back towards the source, and he made a point of keeping eye contact while he wiped his hand of Killer’s filth. “Do you care about anything other than getting your dick wet?”

Absentmindedly, Killer raised a hand to rub at his neck; it would surely bruise, but it wasn’t as if he minded the idea. “Sure I do,” he hummed. “I’ve got a pussy, too.” Then, he grinned, wide and sharp. “And a mouth.”

Scoffing, a soft purple tinted Dust’s cheeks. “Didn’t have to mention your mouth with how often you fucking use it.”

“I have a lot to say,” Killer said, snickering.

“Yeah, and all of it is needlessly vulgar,” Dust hissed in return.

Gracefully, and too quickly to be stopped, Killer stepped around Dust’s frame before pushing the shorter skeleton up against the wall, switching their positions. The motion was notably more gentle than the furious pin of earlier, and Killer’s arms boxed Dust in on either side without touching. Purple rushed to the hooded skeleton’s face in an instant, and it almost would have been unnoticable in the dark shadow cast across his face if Killer hadn’t known it would be there. His fingers curled into fists against the wall while Dust’s hovered uncertainly in front of his chest, as if he hadn’t quite decided whether or not to push him away.

“I’m thinking all sorts of dirty thoughts right now, actually,” Killer finally agreed. “Wanna hear them?”

With a shaky inhale and eyelights pointedly avoiding Killer’s face, Dust nodded.

“Are you sure? They’re absolutely filthy,” he breathed.

“Just spit it out already,” Dust hissed.

And, with all the tenderness in the world, Killer took Dust’s hand into his own. Their fingers interlocked perfectly, like they were made for one another, and it would have been impossible to miss the way that Dust’s breath immediately hitched at the contact. His eyelights stared at their union with an uncharacteristic longing, and Killer relished in it. 

Then, he snickered, and the sound made Dust jump. “See?” Killer chirped. “What’d I tell you? Premarital hand holding. We’re fucking disgusting.”

The almost reverence that had beheld Dust’s expression fell away into complete and utter distaste. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Not in the slightest!” He wiggled his fingers, testingly, enjoying the feeling of them against one another. It wasn’t a new sensation, by any means, but, nevertheless, it never got old. “I mean, my god! Is this lewd or what?”

Again, Dust scoffed, though he didn’t attempt to pull away. “You’re not funny.”

“I think I’m hilarious,” Killer mewled.

Like the words were a spark to gasoline, Dust immediately bristled. His grip on Killer’s hand tightened, their bones grinding together achingly. “You’re leading me on,” he hissed. “Why? Because you think it’s funny?”

With an over-dramatic gasp, Killer placed a hand to his chest as if he’d been scorned. “I’ve never led you on. I’m just getting started.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next? Premarital kissing?”

All at once, Killer yanked Dust’s hand, forcing him forward and against his chest. His other hand wrapped around to press against the small of Dust’s back. He smiled wickedly down at the other skeleton, and a fresh wave of flushed purple magic dusted the other’s cheeks. It was a pretty shade, Killer had to admit, and he’d always loved that wide-eyed, unabashed desire that the slightest touch seemed to elicit.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he purred. “Not before premarital eye-contact.”

“I hate you,” Dust snarled, though his furious expression was subdued.

Laughing, Killer pulled Dust along in a half-hearted, clumsy sort of dance through the hallway. The floor was plush against their feet, and the walls were too narrow to allow for any sort of grace in their movement, but it was enough to be pleasant; enough for them to dance anyway. Each time the warm, orange light of the hall’s lanterns shone onto Dust’s face, Killer drank in every expression he tried to hide beneath his hood, or harsh words, or violence, and it was enough to be pleasant; enough for it to feel like love.

Clutching tightly to Dust’s hand, he spun away, then allowed himself to be pulled back, flush with Dust’s chest as they continued down the hall, and he smiled down at him wryly. “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Dust pressed his head against Killer’s shoulder, shrouding his face from view, and, when he spoke, it was almost too quiet to be heard. “I just want this.”

Browbones furrowing, he snickered, though there was something about Dust’s tone that made his soul wobble and the sound of his laughter come out hollow. “What, terrible dancing?”

“No,” Dust immediately corrected, and there was more insistence to his tone this time. “To be held. To be with you.”

And, Killer’s smile widened. And, he ignored the way that it didn’t reach his eyes. “And, nothing more?”

“Isn’t that enough?” he asked, and it sounded like a plea. “Aren’t I enough?”

It was difficult to speak around the inexplicable knot in his throat. The one that always showed up when it came to conversations like this. “Of course you are.”

Slowly, their dance came to a stop; the hallway couldn’t go on forever, so neither could they. But, neither of them released one another, still clinging to what they could reach as if they were afraid for the dance to end. To dance without movement is simply to embrace, but there’s something more intimate about that, that Killer cannot face.

“Then, why…” Dust choked, and the words were lost, but they both knew them anyway. 

Why are there others?

Why isn’t enough enough?

Why does this have to be indulgence?

Why can’t this be love?

“Let go of me,” Killer whispered.

Dust scoffed, and there was something rueful in it. His grip on Killer’s shoulders tightened. “Thought you never led me on.”

“Get off,” he hissed, and he pushed away from Dust as if he’d been burned. Feeling the way that his bones buzzed, he couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t been. Something burned in his chest, and it must have been fire. There was no other explanation. “Go fuck someone else if you need it so bad.”

Stumbling backwards, Dust caught himself on the wall, and his eyelights glowed dangerously when he looked back up, shining ever brighter as they reflected off of unshed tears. “Fuck you,” he spat, venemous. “I’m not some fucking slut that sways his hips to get the attention of strangers. I’m not like you. I don’t need that. Enough is enough. You are enough.”

“You’re making this into something it’s not,” Killer breathed.

“Fuck you,” he repeated, even harsher. He stepped forward, and Killer fought off the instinct to step back in tandem; another dance. “Why isn’t it?”

“It can’t be,” he said.

And, there was the snap; just as sudden and quick as it always was.

Again, Killer found himself pinned to the wall by his neck, feeling an awful lot like cornered prey, with his teeth gritted into a smile. His hands wrapped around Dust’s wrist, though he didn’t attempt to pull it away. Sharp fingertips pressed into bone, almost as sharp as the look on Dust’s face; features alight with magic that sparked between his joints and made the spots where there was contact tingle unpleasantly, like a warning. Maybe it was one.

“I love you,” Dust said, and it sounded an awful lot like a damnation.

Killer didn’t answer – couldn’t find the words, or, maybe, refused to. His grip on Dust’s wrist tightened as the hand around his throat turned vice-like and stole the breath that he didn’t really need.

“Say it back,” came the demand.

With a laugh that came out more like a wheeze, Killer spat thick, black determination into Dust’s face. “Or, what?”

All at once, with a crack that Killer wasn’t sure was entirely in his head, his skull connected harshly with the wall. He bit back a noise of pain and forced it to come out as another laugh. Once the stars cleared from his vision, he was met with another furious flush of purple and white hot tears as Dust wiped at his face, and he wished that it meant anything to him.

“You think I won’t kill your little side hoes?” Dust hissed. “You think I won’t make you fuck their dust?”

Wasn’t that indulgence, too? To kill that which got in your way? It wasn’t necessary. It was strictly something done because it felt good to. Wasn’t that, by the definition of the word, indulgence? Maybe Dust hadn’t spent as much time under Nightmare’s care as Killer had, but, clearly, he’d learned something. 

Violence, which clung to indulgence’s hand in the same way that lust did; equally disgusting; equally unnecessary; equally beautiful. Killer couldn’t help but to laugh at the thought.

Dust cut him off with a growl. “Is this funny to you?”

“It is, actually,” Killer purred. “You’d find a way to be jealous of a pile of dust if I gave it attention in front of you.”

A choked sound fell from Dust’s throat, and, for just a moment, he averted his gaze, hand squeezing Killer’s neck harshly and drawing a matching noise from him. Then, it loosened, and his eyelights bore into Killer’s empty sockets once more. “I love you,” he said again. “Say it back.”

“Or, what?” Killer wheezed again, undeterred.

“Or, I’ll kill us both,” came the response.

His expression was carefully even, sockets half-lidded and mouth smoothed into a thin line. Magic crackled dangerously through his form, making his eyelights flare that same bright, terrifying purple, and the glow of his magic reflected prettily off of his tears. His touch burned like fire; the same one that burned in Killer’s chest that not even the instinctual, icy dose of panic that flared in his soul – because both of them knew that Dust wasn’t bluffing – could put out. It was perfect. Disgusting, unnecessary, beautiful indulgence.

“God, I love you,” Killer breathed.

And, in an instant, their mouths crashed together in a sloppy, desperate kiss, pressed up against the wall like art.

[sigmasoyboy]

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]

Was suggested on instagram to write from Gage's POV and thinking about how I would ever write from someone who's been essentially dog lobotomized actually got me thinking so hard I started writing. The formatting of this one is a reading nightmare but the never ending run-on sentence tightly packed into one block of text feels the most appropriate to a dog's inner thoughts so… You have to suffer for the sake of art™️

cw: ableist and misogynistic language, PTSD, panic attack, murder, vomit, loss of humanity through being genetically spliced with a dog

Right now there is only [RUNNING] and [PANTING] and the wind whipping your face and twigs digging into your paw pads and snapping under your weight and the sweat tickling the inside of your thigh as it rolls down the expanse of your (ever) hairless leg. You almost want to throw your hands down into the decaying grass and leaves to propel your body further but (something) keeps you anchored to your bipedal ways, your body knows it was never made for sprinting on all four but your body was also bent once and could probably be bent further all the way to the other side transhumanised so far the evolutionary path to break all knowns nomenclature and classification and leap from (human) to [DOG] just as you do out of the shrubbery as soon as your hear [YOUR NAME], toes skidding into the overgrown lawn as you halt, tongue hanging out dumbly trying as you might to bring moisture back into your bone dry mouth. The useless instincts you (forcefully) have inherited work against you but thankfully [HE!!!] turns on the garden hose [HE!!] uses to bath you with and fresh water springs out, splattering everywhere against your open mouth. There used to be a better way to drink but you (forgot) how so you chew at the air trying to catch this pesky pesky water into your mouth while getting drenched, you were hot anyway, running so so hot from all the excess dopamine secreted by your happy happy dumb brain, so easily pleased.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS]; it’s the 100th time you thought this exact thing today not with words or inner monologue only pure unadulterated stabs at your mesocorticolimbic circuit, things are only [GOOD] or [BAD] not in terms of the morals (you lacked) but in terms of [PLEASURE] and [PAIN], so simple and so good like quenching your thirst and moving your limbs and eating and shitting and nerve endings being stimulated by a [GOOD SCRATCH] just like [HE] is doing right now immediately replacing the serotonin from the water [HE] just shut off, not having a care in the world for how greasy your (hair) feels or the way you wildly shake off to dry yourself or the fact that you are (not) a dog at all. You wouldn’t get any of it anyway because all you understand now is [ANGRY] and [SOFT] tone so as long as [HE] coos at (you) softly [HE] can say anything and (you) would happily (giggle) and [RUB YOUR HEAD] against his big calloused hands even if he was (talking shit). You were liberated against your (will) and you are too dumb to realize it, of course you are why would you ever stop and try to think when you can just march alongside [HIM] like [HE TAUGHT] [YOU]] like a good stupid fuckass (dog) getting all [EXCITED] because you realize [HE] is walking towards the [KITCHEN] which can only mean any and all (doubt) or [FEAR] that’s desperately trying to join each others can be [SILENCED] by a motherfucking spoonfull of [PEANUT BUTTER HOLY SHIT] sticky and salty and obstructing your airway momentarily but thank goodness you still know how to breath through your (nose) while you smack your (lips) desperately trying to (get away from the [DELICIOUS TREAT] clawing at the leathery cushion with your splitting nails nerve endings stimulated by [HURT HURT HURT FUCK what did you do why were you bad why is this happening to you this wasn’t supposed to happen you weren’t supposed to get caught in the first place but the [BITC H] squealed and slipped through your fingers and now you’re the one being [GUD LA DET SLUTTE VÆR SÅ SNILL] you should’ve made a bigger hole and (fucked it) so [BAD] no one will ever be able to identify your whore bitch corpse you r eally fucked up this time you can barely breathe through any hole now in out in out in out head heavy with the weight of ([HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS]) getting really really light so much so you don’t feel your (claws) slicing until the victim became unrecognizable aggravated [MASSACRE] of your (ultimate reality) now there’s only [DROOL] and a little bit of [VOMIT] and your clammy skin against the (cold old tiles) of the kitchen floor and [HIS] form above you [WARM] palm encircling almost your entire still trembling arm and (garbled speech) you can never [UNDERSTAND] again, it’s so [WARM] and (nice) your [TAIL] slaps the kitchen floor, beginning to unknot [HIS] brow as you can feel yourself (smiling) dumbly at [HIM]. And now there is only [PETTING] and [ROLLING ON THE FLOOR] with the sweet-acrid aroma of [PEANUT BUTTER] and [VOMIT] [HE] stops you from [LAPPING] just before your tongue touches it.

Surely nothing in the world ever felt better than [THIS].

[sheafrotherdon]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Series: Part 6 of Menagerie Summary:

“In my defence,” Joe said when Nicky opened the door, “I didn’t plan this.”

Nicky looked past him to where their ageing Fiat 500 sat in the entrance to the yard. He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know you could fit so many goats into one small car.”