#disappointed in you all. may you soon learn how good he is

[wynandcore]

Meeting Frodo haters in real life in this day and age is buckwild

[kujiba]

【MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU DEAR GRACE】

୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior

A/n: Heya! This is now a pov of what is happening to other nations across teyvat before and after the arrival of the reader! + Aether and paimon

Nations present: Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma

One / two / three / four / five

MONDSTAT, is where the creator had first landed and spreaded their blessings through the people's hearts and minds, of course. That did not exclude the archon of freedom himself, Barbatos.

Barbatos used to accompany (Name) through their vast journeys, being able to witness how life is formed within his own eyes, (Name) only using the palms of their hands that basked the people with warmth and comfort sending peace throughout the nations. He'd idolize and fanboyed over them for days and days without ever getting tired nor bored of talking, creating poets or songs just to spread their fame and story farther into the world of Teyvat.

Whenever (Name) requested someone to sing a melody for them, Barbatos was always the first to come knocking at their door with his iconic and trusty lyre he always held dear to him.

But now, their god had left and never came back for thousands of years. Barbatos, now taking the name of Venti would sit on a thick branch hanging off a tree and play a soft melody like he used to do countless days ago. He wanted to feel that comforting aura and vibe again while the tip of his fingers strummed the strings of his lyre, he wanted his god to be by his side forever till the sun would stop blazing, but now it likely didn't seem to happen anytime soon.

...

A blonde traveler and fairy came by today.

The Traveler helped resolve the issue with Dvalin and defeated some abyss mages behind the act, but alas. Good things would always come to an end since they left to go to the neighborhood nation, Liyue, ruled by the god of contracts, Morax.

Things come and things go, that was what Venti learned a long time ago from a dear companion of his. Yet, only after a few months of the Travelers departure, something new and unexpected came to his land.

A breathtaking person with the face of divinity along with an strong yet calming aura that seemed to heal any stressa a person had built up for years in a matter of seconds. That was just what Venti needed at the time since he was reminiscing of the past making him feel a bit down.

The winds were different today and Venti knew that, he felt an immense mount of nostalgia just by being at the presence of the stranger that was just a good distance away from him.

It wasn't just him that noticed it but some hilichurls, slimes, and other types of monsters curiosly went towards their direction but not too close that the person would be alarmed by the amount of monsters closing in on them.

But unfortunately his eyes didn't quite catch where the particular person went after that, much to his disappointment.

Just then, a papered letter fluttered down onto his thigh safely. Confusion crammed Venti's head while he tried to make sense of the letter that neatly laid on his thigh

"How weird"

He adjusted his sitting position better to a more comfortable and laid back one and then began carefully flipping open the letter to read it's contents on the paper.

Venti's eyes trailed along the words written on it and a sly smirk appeared on his face, An invitation to inazuma? Why not.

Liyue, had just finished a fight between osial and the people with the help of the adeptus. Of course, the main star being the infamous blonde traveler himself that took a big part in defeating the sea god.

"After all that fighting, Paimon wants to go and eat a whole buffet!" Paimon and Aether walked through the lively streets of Liyue with a relaxed attitude and vibe. Paimon chimed in "After this we'll have to go through Inazuma! But it would be tricky sinc- Traveler?" Paimon looked at Aether in worry, he had always been silent but today he seemed more down than usual.

"Is something wrong? Paimon will try and help!" Paimon reassured Aether to try and make the blonde feel better even for a slight moment.

Aether shaked his head and offered and forced small smile "It's nothing Paimon.. It's just, I still hadn't found any leads on my sister.." Aether grumbled to himself with bitterness occupied inside his mouth, everywhere they went somebody would be requesting help. It wasn't bad to help but for him to help people with such simple tasks who could do it on their own perfectly fine was.... Tiring.

Aether looked over to Paimon who smiled at him brightly, floating around him for a moment "Don't worry! Paimons sure there would be loads of leads to your sister! Teyvat is a pretty big world after all" Paimon placed both of her small hands behind her back and gave him a closed eyed smile. Soothing Aether a bit in the inside.

As Aether thought over his memories over the past months he stopped at a particular one. The conversation that he had with Amber when they were still at mondstadt. (referring to ch.1).

In the past, he would frequently feel someone taking over his body and controlling it, at first he was genuinely scared and terrified but after a while, he got used to it and didn't react when he randomly would wake up in a random area. It didn't cause him any harm since every time he did got his consciousness back all the monsters would be defeated and all would be left was loot for him to collect.

So why did he kinda felt something was missing after all this time? Was it because he didn't get possessed anymore? He must've gone insane then if he missed getting possessed.

But he had to admit.. It felt kinda nice, like someone was watching over him from afar and being his guardian...

Sure it would abruptly just take over his body in such random times that it would also caught him off guard, but sometimes he would wake up sitting down on a rock while there was a beautiful mix of copper and ruby at the sky before him.

Aether had mix feelings about this stuff, but he could confirm one thing inside his head; 'Whatever is out there is helping me out, Thanks.'

"Traveler are you coming or what!" Paimon shouted from a distance making Aether snap out of his monologuing "Be right there."

...

A youthful man with long silky brunette hair tied into a long low ponytail, he wore a brown and amber waistcoat that evened out his figure perfectly paired with slim black trouser, black dress boots and dark gloves. On his hand was a cup of green tea perfectly brewed to the right temperature where you could see little steams floating above the cup of tea.

The previous god of contracts who now took on the name Zhongli to mask his identity and blend along with the mortals residing at the Liyue Harbor. He brought his cup closer to his lips where he then blew off the steam and modestly took a sip, savoring the flavorful tea.

Infront of him was the relatively popular, Iron Tounge Tian who told and portrayed the numerous adventures and stories of the stone god to a crowd of people sitting down on a table.

Zhongli took one sip of his tea... And then another?

His amber eyes looked at the clear sky above, today wasn't that cloudy anymore after the fight with osial, aside from that there was something different and he felt it spread throughout every vein and bone inside his Body.

...

Morax was the complete opposite of himself in the present. In the past him and Barbatos would frequently fight over (Name), stating the other was spending way too much time with them. Their quarrel would mostly end with (Name) karate chopping the back of their necks so hard that they were in a coma for 143 days, both nations suprisingly not turning into a frenzy since (Name) multi tasked like a Chad and kept the people in line over the days Morax and Barbatos was unconscious.

In those days of course (Name) was not alone in keeping the people safe. Xiao, one of Morax's most beloved adeptus would be by (Name)'s side at all times, getting frequently flustered whenever they teased or praised Xiao since he would frequently save (Name) from any dangerous activities.

Morax had tried persuading (Name) into signing a contract of 'companionship' with him for eternity, But (Name) called out on his bullshit and told him what he wrote on the paper was like a marriage contract instead. This led Morax to experience the seven stages of grief, much to his disdain.

To (Name), Morax was an important companion to them, often helping and assisting them in their needs and teaching them ways they didn't knew existed inside the laws of Teyvat. But to Morax, what he felt was deeper and more complexed than what (Name) never thought to think of. Truly, he was a massive simp for (Name) only in the past (still is tbh).

But you should never get too attached to things that won't last forever. Morax's world crumbled before him when he had been informed that (Name) went missing and was never found, yet he refused to believe that. So for the past thousands of years he patiently waited at Liyue Harbor for their arrival, already planning on telling them a dozen of stories when they return back to his embrace.

And even now, as a mortal named Zhongli, he patiently waited at his usual spot where they would chatter for days non-stop, as if the world around them passed by so quickly that they couldn't grasp it in time.

Ah, his tea is running low.

Just as he was about to pour his cup to its fullest a snow white letter gently flew towards his tables direction. Zhongli acted quickly and catched the piece of paper in time out of instinct in his previous days.

Golden amber eyes inspected the words neatly written by pitch dark ink, his brows perking upwards by what was told.

"Huh, a request to meet at Inazuma?"

Zhongli muttered in a low voice, skeptical at first but then had a light bulb appear at the top of his head "Then... You must be there too right?, my dear companion."

Inazuma was a nation which locked away their people's freedom, ruled by the Raiden Shogun and their 'grace'. The people had believed that their 'grace' was the true one, not like the others who had been an Imposter all along. The two rulers had come to an agreement to proceed with the Vision Hunt Decree, where in people who had attained a vision would be immediately stripped away from its blessing.

And today was a special one. Their 'grace' had invited people around the world to join in a ceremonial festival, where people would savor the taste of their nation's meal's and drink to their hearts content, this joyfull festival was all thanks to their benevolent 'grace'.

This bold act was just to spread word throughout the world to further increase their 'grace' fame. Of course, their 'grace' never mentioned it to anyone but to themselves.

And like mice falling into a trap, less than a day Inazuma had been packed with various different individual's as they thought this was just a simple festival hosted out of the sweetness of their 'graces' heart.

And to their luck, a certain blonde traveler with his fairy companion had just arrived on boat. Their 'grace' had made sure to be on the Traveler's good side since they posed as a natural, distinguished tool for them to use.

Everything was going as planned for them.

...

So why did you have to appear infront of their 'grace'. you, who is the only true creator and God of this world stood before them.

Their grace...

No.

The Imposter looked at you dead in the eyes, as if saying 'why are you here?'. This wasn't supposed to happen, but you left them no choice, the Imposter had prepared for this kind of situation anyway.

A god can't exist if they're not breathing anyway.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm doing you a favor."

A woman wore a lilac colored kimono, her face having purple eyes and gradient light blue pupils, her braided hair reaching the same level as her calf which had a lovely shade of dark violet that becomes lighter at the ends. That woman's name is Beelzelbub.

Beelzelbub sat floating in her domain the Plane of Euthymia, created by her own consciousness. Her vessel the Raiden Shogun must be managing perfectly at Inazuma right?

...

Beelzelbub also known as Ei, couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong for a while now. She felt that something similar to a disaster was approaching on her doorstep, and she disliked everything about it.

Her plum eyes gazed at the voided sky above her, memories flooded into her mind one by one, each having a special place buried deep inside of her heart that she had hidden for a while now.

"I wonder if I continue to search through eternity, will I ever meet you again?" her words came out as a soft whisper, a message towards her grace that she deeply cared and valued for. Ei's mind was driven to many questions but all of them meeting a unfortunate dead end.

Ei was sorta like (Name)'s bodyguard hundreds of years ago, her along with Makoto would frequently visit their abode to tell tale's about youkai, the gods residing in inazuma and how Ei effortlessly massacred them all with her signature move, the Musou No Hitotachi.

But their grace didn't push her away or seemed even the slightest bit uncomfortable, yet instead they would encouraged her to share more of her bloodied stories, and that's what she loved about them. If purity was a person, then they must be standing before her right now.

Still, Ei wasn't exactly known as the 'sharing' type. She and Morax would frequently be on the verge of creating a catastrophe in their nation's whenever it came to who would get their grace's favoritism more.

But their target immediately took a huge turn when their eyes landed at Barbatos who was by their grace's side, yet he seemed to get a little way too close to their personal liking.

Their grace being a polite being didn't seem to mind Barbatos clinging onto them 24/7, you know who did mind the anemo archon's actions?

A pissed off geo dragon and a woman preparing to slice him in half using her blade.

Rumors had been reported that Barbatos body was buried but only left his head uncovered near Windrise as punishment for his actions towards their grace. A day after this took place their grace had personally came to save Barbatos and scolded the two archon's which left their expressions full of shame..

not because they were scolded but because they should've just thrown the anemo god into the abyss.

Ei softly smiled at the nostalgia hitting her hard, reminiscing the days were war had never took over and left countless of innocent lives taken. The uneasy feeling flowing through her body never leaving her mind, what could be the reason why she felt like something was wrong outside?

...

A certain someone had entered her territory, this feeling caught her off guard and slightly made her lose balance, it wasn't worry nor unease but a feeling she always felt when their presence was right next to hers.

"You'd arrived so soon? I would've waited more centuries for you."

Her feet touched the ground. It wasn't a doubt that they had finally came, she had secluded herself all this time to meditate and keep her soul away from erosion. But she couldn't help but wonder how would they look like now? It didn't matter either way.

Since she would love you no matter what form their grace took over.

...

【Follow my command】

Screams of terror engulfed the whole area with bystanders backing away from the body which oozed out a metallic crimson liquid, yet red wasnt the only liquid that seeped through their body.

A golden fluid mixed through with the crimson one, producing a beautiful yet horrid scene.

【You are one step away from successfully reincarnating.】

A/n: hehe... Orv.. Hehe

[pia-nor481]

I can do it better

Max verstappen x reader smut 18+

3.6k words

She was sat on their-her bedroom floor trying to recollect herself when a loud knock to the front door broke her out of the state she was in. Her eyes were red and cheeks painted with tears. Hoping that the knocking would stop she continued to stare at herself in the full length mirror opposite her hunched over body. Evidently, it didn't stop, she practically shouted the person behind the door to wait a minute. In the mean time, she stumbled up, pulling a shirt over her body and rushing to the bathroom, in hope of cold water freshening her face up; Although it was hard to look presentable at this given time. She could barely stay up her two feet while walking towards the front door. She didn't know where her things were, phone definitely blowing up with her friends asking how her night went, even if they got a hold of her, she wouldn't answer, they'd had enough of her complaints of her love life.

Once she reached the door handle, she opened it a crack, trying to avoid her body being seen. "Sorry to just turn up but my flight leaves tomorrow and you weren't answering, and need some of my stuff before I go." Max was a pretty observant person, he had to be; so nothing slipped past him. "You open the door like this for all the men who knock?" He joked lightly, knowing she often took what he said in jest. He looked back up to her face when there was no further comment. "No, what's up? I can tell something is wrong." He said letting himself into her flat, placing his keys and phone on the counter next to hers, he saw the ample amount of WhatsApp notifications. "Come on, you can tell me what happened." It was so obvious that max still cared for her. Their relationship was always messy. They fought constantly, it started as little things; the floors not being cleaned properly or a few things left in awkward or annoying places. Both of their friends said it was good that they were fighting about things like that, claiming it was healthy to have small bits of conflict that could be quickly resolved. But it soon became a big problem when carer got involved, he was always traveling whether it be for the actual race, England to help with development of the car, or visiting his home to see his parents or even Monaco to be with his friends, but her job required her to be in one place. They tried hard to make it work, she book flights to come and see some of his races or he would stay until Wednesday night of the race week just to spend time with her, but it just wasn't enough.

There had been a few times were Max had heard her on the phone with her friends trying to convince her to break up with him, but every time she would shut them own. "He's toxic, leave him before it gets worse. There can't be anything that makes it worth the stress and disappointment." She would shake her head before remembering that they couldn't see her that's one thing Max really enjoyed, her tendency to show rather than speak. "If he's toxic, I'll wear a hazmat. You don't get it, I love him." Hearing her say things like that always made him smile. He loved her just as much, if not more. Every time he'd come back he would spend all his time awake comforting her, making her feel secure. She wasn't overly talkative when being asked questions, preferring to just shake her head or even pretend she didn't hear it; but not with max. He tried to make sure she would communicate with him, even when they fought, he'd let her scream and shout at him, he wanted to hear everything she had to say, so he knew how she felt, so he could help, He didn't get the luxury of expression when he was younger and that caused many problems. He learnt from this, he learned how to be better, he learned how to love. Max loved, no, loves her so much; it was hard for him to put it into words sometimes, she knew this, and was okay with him showing his love physically. That may have been a part of the problem, they were never close enough for him to show her how much he loved her. Although he is not the only one to blame, she was stubborn, overly so. She hated being wrong and so did he. So Max tried his hardest to not condescend her when she was wrong, but that wasn't often.

"Come on." He had to bite back the pet names he gave her in the years they spent together. "You can tell me what happened." She also hated voicing her concerns with him. She never worried about cheating, Max would never. It was like she felt neglected, but she couldn't say that, it was selfish, she was the one who said they could make the distance work. As max looked around the room he noticed how empty it was. With all of his things gone it didn't feel like home to her anymore. His house in Monaco didn't feel like home either, not without her. She looked up from her feet to meet his eyes. "It's embarrassing." His shoulders dropped, she was stupid sometimes, she didn't realised how silly that sounded to him. "And I've known you for how long?" He paused walking back towards her, resisting the urge to hold her close, to pull her into his chest and cradle her head. "At least it wasn't someone else's fault." he said slightly relieved, her eyes were still a cause for concern, even now he was prepared to fix any problem she had. The silence was loud, his anger pooled at his fists. "Right?" His eyes scanned over her whole body, making sure she wasn't hurt. "Its stupid, and I'm fine by the way. Can't you just grab your stuff and go?" she asked, almost pleading for him to leave. He was not going to leave her alone, not when she was like this.

Max went against his better judgement and hugged her, she needed it, no matter how many times she wanted to be left completely alone. "Tell me. You always feel better when you say what you're thinking, not just shouting at the mirror." She was almost reduced to tears, not only because of his words, but because she was so embarrassed. "Promise you wont laugh." She whispered through teary eyes. "Promise." He pulled his chest away, so he could look her in the eyes as she spoke. He wanted her to feel listened to, cared for. "So my friends set me up with his guy called Matthew, right." Any remaining anger turned into jealousy. He was fuming that his girl was going on a date with some guy. He pushed his feelings aside briefly, wanting to hear the rest of her story. "Well, we went out to this pretty nice place and it was going well, at least I thought so. Anyway, we came back here and he started kiss me, and you feel me up and stuff." She really didn't want to give her ex-boyfriend the details of her hook up. She paused still embarrassed. "Was he blonde and foreign as well?" Her face became warm as he let out a chuckle, this actually comforted him a bit, to see her go out with guys that reminded her of him. "Glad to see you have a type." She gave him a pointed look as an initial response. "Sorry, go on." Shifting her feet to avoid the shame. Max gave her sweet look, enticing her to speak. "When we, um, went to bed it was, uh, fine to start with but you know, he couldn't make me cum, it didn't seem like he was even trying." Her voice was shaky, her nerves were sky high, but she continued because, for once, Max was right. "So I may or may not have sent him out of the flat." She says with as sigh, looking up at her and grasping his arm for a bit of support ,not physical, but emotional, he was comforting to touch. "I am so glad I was your boyfriend and knew how to actually please you or I don't think we would have lasted as long as we did." He spoke with a crooked smile, ready of a light slap to his chest. "It's not funny Max." defeated, her shoulders slumped slightly as she tried to pull out of his tight grasp. "It is a little bit, oh no, please don't give me that look. I'm sorry I swear."

"So let me get this straight, you wanted to hook up with this guy, Matthew, and he was being a selfish prick, and now you are all desperate and pent up. That I can defiantly work with." Confusion covered her face as Max picked her up by her waist and began walking them towards the bedroom. She hooked her legs around his hips during his venture. She would often scold him for doing things without warning or saying things that he shouldn't. She began to kiss his neck, wanting his attention back on her. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she would worry about the consequences later. One of his hands slid down her back, giving her ass a nice squeeze, he knew she liked it, not that she'd say so, he had to figure that out for himself.

Once his knees touched the edge of the bed, he placed her on it, immediately pushing her shirt up, "No underwear as well, you really do treat the guys at your door well." He let out with a smirk, before pushing her thighs apart further so he could slot between them. The ghost of his breath had her shuddering, she moaned when his lips finally touched her cunt, tongue licking a long stripe over her slit. Max looked up, not even being able to see her face as her head was thrown back at the slightest amount of pleasure. She really needed to feel him. He began to suck on her clit lightly, not wanting to rush into it and run the risk of ruining her orgasm, it hurt him to make her wait any longer, knowing she had spent so much time dissatisfied. Max shook his head side to side sending waves of bliss through her whole body.

Max got good at eating pussy from practicing on her. There were times where he spent more time between her legs than not. Her moans got louder as max put more pressure on her clit, heightening the sensation. "Could he not do this to you? No? That's what I thought." He breathed against her cunt, making her hips shift towards him. Max pulled her knees over his shoulders as he went back in, the noises that filled the room were quickly becoming pornographic. He could feel her twitching and clenching as he ate her out, Max moaned at the feeling, knowing it would tip her over the edge. "Yes, Max. Please, it feels so good." She barely got out, lungs burning. As she began gasping for air, Max could feel her ankles cross behind his back, squishing his head between her thighs. She came hard, harder than she'd done since the last time they were together. No matter who she slept with, no matter how many times she made herself cum it was never the same. "Did that feel good? Was that better than Matthew? Yeah, I know it is."

She pushed Max back slightly so she could slip off the bed and on to her knees. She undid his belt as quick as her shaky hands would allow her.  She squeezed him lightly and ran her hand over his cock a few times before actually pulling it out, she licked a long stripe along the underside, right along the thick vein of his length. Max let out a breathy groan as she took his entire cock in her mouth, reaching down her throat. His hands quickly found her hair and made pace in tangling them. He guided her up and down his cock watching from above with a pleased look on his face. She pulled off with a loud pop, then she tongued the space between the head and shaft, he let out a guttural moan at the feeling, urging  her to take him back in her mouth, it felt phenomenal. Once she hollowed her cheeks again it all became too much for max, she made him cum so hard he started to feel almost lightheaded, seeing stars, hunching over at the feeling. "Fuck, you feel so go baby. Always making me feel so good." He praised, not one lie leaving his lips, although he got to cum every time he had sex, it didn't feel as euphoric as it did with her. 

"Get up here." he said, pulling her up to her tip toes for a kiss. He slipped his tongue practically down her throat, tasting himself in her mouth. Max never understood how other guys could possibly complain about their girlfriend wanting a kiss after blowing him. If she had no problem kissing him after eating her out, what was the difference? The mix was divine, it sent blood rushing to his cock almost immediately as their lips touched. He let his hands run wild over her body, missing the warm of her skin against his. He missed being able to touch every divot of her body. He missed the control he had over her, and the trust she had in him. He was almost as pent up as she was. Max made a point of picking her up again, just to throw her back down on the bed. He noticed the framed painting was put back up above the bed. When they were together, it was almost exclusively on the floor as they got lazy hunting for it behind the headboard, He was disappointed that it was placed back to its home. Max caged her head between her arms as he kissed his way down her abdomen before he gave her cunt one final kiss. He slid his cock over her clit just to tease, he got the same reaction buy only pushing the head in and out a few times before slowly slipping his whole cock in inch by inch. She was swimming in pleasure with max slowly marking her, her neck covered in bites, a few bleeding slightly, her chest was covered in red marks, he needed to mark her as his again, no one was allowed to touch what was his. Not anymore. "Fuck." Max strained, sounding breathless and choked as he continued to pound into her, just how she always liked. He was too hot not to moan over, so she did, and he indulged her, usually he'd have to cover her mouth with his hand or push her face into the pillows to avoid noise complaints, but tonight he'd let her do anything, all he wanted was her back in his arms. He continued to abuse her walls while she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles becoming white with the new found strength. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while the remainder of her make up began to smudge and run. Max was fucking her so well her face was painted with tears of joy, and it was just so hot. Max became impossibly harder seeing her fucked out face. He stared to fuck her deeper, hitting that spot that made her go blind with pleasure. "Oh yes Max, always make me feel so good." Her inability to articulate proper sentences was a tell tale sign she was close. Max learned how to read her like a book and it was so beneficial in times like this. 

He quickened his pace, feeling quite close himself. He could she some of this hook up guy's stuff still in her room and it just fuelled the fire. "Matthew didn't make you feel nearly this good did he, sweetheart. You can be honest because I already know." He was interrupted by a thud against the floor. "That's it, good fucking girl for me." he praised her, knowing she would melt from his words, his voice was something she admitted masturbating to when he was gone. She claimed it was mostly because of his accent, but also the tone and the pitch, it just got her so hot and bothered. "Think you can hold on just a little longer?" He asked, feeling her clench around his cock, it made it hard for him to resist. "Only for you, Max." she moaned aware it would edge him on further, fucking her felt exclusive, she was a rare and only he could have her. Perhaps he was a bit possessive, but that didn't matter now that he was with her. One of his hands slid up to her throat, pressing lightly on the sides to only slow the blood flow to her head; his other made way to her clit, rubbing fast circles with just enough pressure to really make it feel good. "Please, just.. just like tha..that." She managed to slur out before her words were cut off by a whine. Her orgasm hit so hard that her head was pushing deep in the mattress and her legs began to spasm and shake. Max only now allowed him self to cum, while she was coming down. He pulled out, shooting plenty of long, thick ropes of cum all over her torso, mainly her perfect tits that her just couldn't resist. They both sighed quietly with small laugh. 

Max gave her a chaste kiss before walking leisurely to the bathroom and picking up a towel to clean her up a bit. On his way back he turned the AC on, anticipating that she would ask him to stay; if he was he want to be touching her the entire time, in order to keep her close he needed the room cold. He brushed the towel over she skin as gently as possible, although it still pulled a moan from her. "I know, but I have to, Darling." He threw the towel to the corner of the room, knowing she'd complain about it later. "Were are my clothes?" He asked quietly, looking back at her on the bed with a grin plastered to her face. "Where you left them before moving out." still in the wardrobe would have been an easier answer but she wanted him to know she didn't want him gone. She anticipated him coming back and wanting to stay, as usual she was right. He put his classic black t-shirt on before climbing in bed with her. "I'm not putting that frame back up." was the first thing she said after coming out of her orgasmic haze. He pulled her practically on top of his body and held her close, as if someone was going to take her from him. "I know." was all he said, trying to think of the right words to convey his feelings. "I never stopped loving you." Was all he could say so he coupled it with a tight squeeze. "I know." It was her turn to give a dry reply and kiss his neck sweetly. "This is great pillow talk." Max laughed out quietly and he could feel her smile against his chest. "I'm so sorry, I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have blamed you as much as I did, I'm just as responsible. And I most definitely should not have told you to leave and never come back. I regretted it immediately, you know. As soon as I heard the door shut I lost it. I don't deserve you Max, but I need you so much." His heart ached hearing her confession, feeling her tears wet his shirt slightly. "I shouldn't have walked out. I know what you're like when you get angry. As soon I closed that door I couldn't bring myself to leave. I slept outside that door, your neighbour asked what happened and I started crying to her. I kept in touch with your friends, or at least I tried to. I needed to make sure you were okay, but it doesn't seem like they like me much. So don't say you don't deserve me, you do. We will make it to the end, I promise you. I wont lose you again. I love you too much for that." She wiped her now joyful tears as she kissed his lips again. 

There was a loud repeated knock on her door, they tried to ignore it, assuming it was their neighbours complaining about the noise, they normally gave up after a few knocks. But this one persisted. "You stay here and keep warm alright, I'll se who it is." Max got out of the bed a recovered her body in blankets while walking with unnecessary pace towards the door. He swung it open aggressively. "Look I'm sorry about that but can I just get the rest of my clothes and leave, there's no need to-" The guy, who max assumed to me Matthew, stopped upon seeing Max. "Sorry man, but that's not happening. Not while I'm here. I don't think you even deserve it, especially if you can't make such a desperate woman come. Only took me three minutes . So fuck off now will you." Max said before slamming the door, feeling relieved as he reached her again. "I love you so much Max."

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Getting hot under the collar and in the kitchen and on the pool table and...

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

Aug 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 3-4 of 12 - one of the things I'm enjoying about this show is the fact that the introverted super shy uke is having hot fantasies, and the extroverted seme is having the sweet fantasies. It's another way this show is highlighting God being the world's greenest flagged seme BL has ever produced. (And he's being given stiff competition this year - trend alert.)

Anygay: God is so cute and so not cool and so in love and all the consent asking word salad coming out of this boy. I LOVE him. 

Diew: It’s ep 4 so I’ve decided we can talk face-to-face.  God: So how many children do you want? 

The teaching him to play basketball bit, where God politely asks to hold his hand, is so freaking adorable I can’t.

I'm thinking of calling this show the anti-Mame pill.

Blue pill? Red pill? GREEN pill!

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 11 of 12 - We gotta talk. I do like this version, but it’s starting to feel lackluster. Perhaps it always was by comparison to the bright sparkle uniqueness of the original. Perhaps I didn't notice because I was distracted by G4. But now I gotta say it's become a bit disappointing and even my love for G4 can’t seem to bind me to this. Frankly, this show is making me want to watch either the Japanese version, or My School President. It’s never a good sign when a currently airing BL makes me want to stop that and go rewatch an old one I’ve already seen.

NO SINGING.

Meanwhile, the "locked on the rooftop" trope! I haven’t seen that one in years. Cool. Also cute kisses. They learning. 

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 7 of 8 - I can’t believe this is ending next week. But also I can. And I have thoughts.

I really love SailubPon. They might be one of my favorite newer pairs on the scene right now. But I just don’t believe in these characters or this couple. I don’t feel like they are going to have a lasting relationship. It feels like they’re just using each other for sex and distraction, and that’s how the script to set it up, and as a result they’re never gonna make it as a couple. As soon as the sexual fire between them burns out, what do they have to build a relationship on? Frankly? That would be fine if this were a modern love drama, and not a BL. But this IS a BL.

Putting the health code violators aside, I really do believe in the secondary pair, but they haven’t been given enough bandwidth to develop as a couple. There’s no way they’re going to adequately resolve Methas and JJ in the final episode.

At this juncture, I’m mostly finding this show annoying. Which in itself is annoying, because I wanted to love it.

Why is it that Thailand, the land of the best food in the world, king of BLs, struggles so hard to produce the restaurant set BL of my dreams? I’m really pissed about this.

That said, the Methas & JJ stuff is killer. Loved JJ running away. So good. Plus the age old decision - love or money? 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 2-3 of 12 - The issue was me and I've managed to get hold of this show again. The story within the story is so ridiculously badly written I'm going spare. I’m not sure if the outside show is not ALSO badly written. That said, I do love how the 3 writer friends are all shipping our leads. It’s VERY silly. Meanwhile, cohabitation trope is a go. 

I like the side couple too. Stern Daddy + lost puppy is a very cute dynamic, I hope we get more than just crumbs. I actually am enjoying this show now. Ep 3 kinda derailed into this weird chimera novel that they’re all writing together and I’m finding that bit the least interesting, but I adore the domestic components which I think may turn out to be TutorYim's strength (if they're allowed to lean into it). 

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - Man I hope this gets some kind of distribution at some point. It was a pain to find and watch. But I enjoyed it. The focus is more on the seme in Thailand’s version. Which I don’t mind since that's rare in BL, and it’s more August on my screen. It’s all round softer than China’s version but still feels very familiar. I know some fans are struggling with it, but not me.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - I like that Sam’s crafty business espionage has paid off. Them teasing Sam & Yo really had me belly laughing. It was so funny.

Legitimate question. Would one put perfume on one’s cheeks in Thailand, as one does on wrist or sternum? Because of the sniff cheek thing? Scented face powders?

I do feel like with MosBank & SailubPon scorching up our screens, we’re being spoiled by some of Thailand‘s best high heat pairs at the moment.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It remains kind of sweet and cute. It's also calm and slow moving. Oddly it reminds me of La Cuisine in its style and execution (if not content). I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 7 of 12 - I don’t know. I’m getting bored.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 10fin - Fort’s acting during the break-up was truly great. But I feel for Rak. It’s rough to learn that someone else is playing a long game with feelings while you were playing a short game with d**k.

Ultimately this is probably a solid 8/10 show but I’m mad I wasn’t madder at it, and I'm mad I was so bored throughout. So it gets a 7/10 and let us not speak of this again. I’d like to simply forget about it. Trash watch.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 1-2 of 10 - OMG a uni student who looks young and a... COP! GAH. The subversion and kink of it all. I had to go grey to get it and I hate everything about what I had to do. But ya know what? Fucking worth every single repeated crash-causing advertisement.

I love it. The grumpy lonely little student cook and the cheerful mature police officer. What a fabulous dynamic. Is the cook looking for a boyfriend or a Daddy, and do we care if it has the same result? It is filmed VERY manga style camp. I’m a little nervous about that, but this means it’s also very fluffy and so damn sweet. It made me squeak with the cute. I’m gutted this didn’t get distribution.

Ironic that Tawada Hideya is in a new BL while Sunspot is re-airing.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - Ah, the gays are doubting the bisexual again. How familiar. I like how this one is paced and moving through time, even if the relationship seems to be going comparatively slowly by contrast. I love the way Sahashi is always looking at Natsume, even when they’re in conversation with someone else. Ah yearning. I think the conflict was kind of inevitable, given the two personalities of the protagonists, and I like that. (No manufactured angst here.) But I still hope they can repair the breach and I’m still interested. Frankly this is so classically Japan - I don’t know what story beats it’s following and I’m not entirely sure where it’s going, but I kinda like that unpredictability. Makes me think it could go into "must you, Japan?" territory but fingers crossed.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I'm enjoying it very much. I could do without the girl character. I know she’s more interesting than most (this is Japan after all), but she’s not really for me. It’s the complexity of the connection between the leads (and why they like each other) that’s being executed so brilliantly in this show (and in the manga, FYI). Both actors are so on point with their roles and the nuanced emotions required of these characters that every time it’s only them interacting I'm riveted. I could do without the rest of the cast tho.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 1 of 8 - I have a confession to make, I’ve been watching this whole series as it goes along. But this is the pair I absolutely like the most. I’m not sure I would necessarily recommend any of the installments, and I’m not sure how this one is going to go, but I’m VERY invested in this particular couple. They are so pretty!!!! This is a true friends-to-lovers struggle. I like that a lot. (Reminds me of I Cannot Reach You but a different dynamic.) Did I mention how pretty they are? And we already know they gonna kiss well. I bet the uncut version is stellar.

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - It's no one's funeral, turns out! Reports are in - not only are there kisses but it ends happily with wedding plans. So I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. I'm enjoying it. Ya'll know I adored Chinese BL before censorship. It has a certain unhinged quality I very much apreciate (and is the reason I'm so tolerant of the Thai pulps) that I think will marry well with Wuxia's effervescent and ever-present tropes. Watch me suffer here.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - About a singer with stage fright and his timid fan starring Charles (H4 the puppy one) and Michael Chang (the youngster in My Tooth Your Love), plus side couple featuring a Thai actor Jame (Koh in Gen Y) and Liu Min Ting (of Guardian fame). What a damn team. With their powers combined they are...

fine.

This is a fine BL. The fight scene was fun and I like the meet cute. I’m not sure about the chemistry of the leads, but I think they’ll probably do okay. I admit I’m struggling a bit with a singing and the music. Are you surprised? I think I like it enough, but I’m not wowed.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - Oh! Out of the blue attack kiss. What IS this show? I don’t get it at all. Bah. I guess they’re dating now. It’s… so odd...

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Thai Netflix/Grey) - A rich boy at uni suddenly gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future. I have a source, but I've decided to hold off and binge if it ends okay, since it's only 8 eps. I depend upon y'all to tell me if it's safe.

8/16 The Last Time (Thai Fri YT) ? eps - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Again delayed? Not sure what's going on with this one but the continued push-backs do not bode well.

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming This Month!

8/22 The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) 12 eps - announced in 2023 this one has a high school set stepbrothers trope and is reputed to be high heat. From Taiwan! It's made for me. Based on a novel Mou Mou from the Your Name Engraved Herein folks, so it could go dark. Still, I'm very excited.

8/22 The Paradise of Thorns (Thai movie) theater release - Jeff Satur is back but this does not look like a BL (the gay lover's death is the inciting event). More in Goodbye Mother vein. Looks dark and dramatic. He opposite and extremely well known actor Toey Pongsakorn who has never done gay before.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I truly belly laughed. Sam & Yo did not go in the direction I expected, but this scene alone made me not mind that they curtailed the suffering Sam was rightfully due. (SunsetXVibes)

Tall boyfriend armpit, anyone? (Monster Next Door)

The two extremes of BL in one show (Long Beans indeed).

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

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

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[princesayumi4k]

NFSW: Red SFW: Blue

Tenya has always seemed stern until you both got together. Ever since, he is clingy, will let you wear his glasses for fun, shares everything with you - even his phone and clothes.

He always goes to you for any problems, even sexual ones. (If he isn't smart enough to solve them himself.)

He spoils you rotten.

One thing that is sort of toxic about Tenya is the fact that he will make you do your homework - and will only help you under certain conditions. One plus is that he will play with your hair and praise you while you do it though.

He doesn't follow any girls on social media except his family members!

Everyone teases you for dating him, but he's not bad at all as a person or as a boyfriend.

He is autistic and was diagnosed with tourette's as a child but refuses to believe he has them just because he has a few occasional tics. (He also has ADHD which will make him pace around often)

Speaking of "pace"...during sex, he prefers to go a bit fast, but will slow down if you need him to. He prefers mating press so he can hear you if you say a/the safe word or if you start crying.

I feel like Tenya is a switch, like, if he is mad he wants to be dominant or if he just wants to have sex normally he's a dom, but the second you start sucking him off he's a sub - and other times are when you volunteer or if he just feels "bad" and wants to be "punished"

He hates PDA, the only thing he will do is hold hands. And it's not because of you - it's because he knows that people see you much more attractive than him and he wants to keep an eye out to see if anyone else checks you out - if someone does he immediately notices and will either shoot them a rude glare or will get uncomfortable and start kissing you in front of them - just to make them jealous. Sometimes he will sneak to grab your ass while doing so.

He absolutely loves your ass, and (if your a female) he loves your tits. (Oh yeah, quick mention I think that Tenya would be pansexual...)

He doesn't know how you see yourself as ugly, ass soon as you start talking and about yourself he wants to explode. He usually says things along the lines as "How could you not like how you look when you're dating me?"

Tenya is insecure, especially because he thinks you're much more attractive than he will ever be.

Tenya doesn't "hate sex" but doesn't "love it" either. He does it to pleasure the both of you and also because he thinks it's important to do in a relationship as what he calls it, a "step up".

You could probably guess/assume this...but Tenya's diet is healthy for the most part so his seed is very swallow-able. His seed's taste can be most comparable to a salt cracker that you get from buffets - but that's just the faint taste, it kind of tastes like chocolate milk? - He's very scared to cum inside you (without protection + if you're a girl and he's hitting from the front) but he will do it if you insist. He can't last long though, which is kind of disappointing but his cum is warm, and will shoot up instead of just laying in a spot, may I add, Tenya loves watching it dribble out of you.

This man is a god at aftercare. He will take a few breaths after he cums, pull out, wait for a few seconds to see if it dribbles out of you and then slowly becomes flaccid, but he will lay beside you and hold you close. The first question he asks is if you're okay, then will ask if he did good. He even takes little notes in his mind to see what he can do better.

The best thing about sex with this man is that he researches a bit every now and then, he learns your sensitive spots and will pound into them. He doesn't mean to hurt you when he does though, he says "I love you" before he cums and will whisper "I'm sorry dear..." if he thinks he hurts you while pounding.

Now, I say pounding but I don't mean like a rough dom pounding senselessly, I mean right before he cums he goes extra fast and rough so he can cum faster.

One thing he hates is titjobs, it gives him not only an extra mess to clean but he takes much longer to cum and it doesn't feel the same. Not that he doesn't love your tits or your body at all - he just hates titjobs. He's a sucker for handjobs though.

One thing he will never do is let you interrupt his studies with sex, he loves you and enjoys sex with you...but no. Sex is important in a relationship, he thinks so - but he thinks education is important as well so if you ever get married with Tenya he can get a good job for you and spoil you more, along with provide a roof over (y)our head(s).

DICK SIZE? Tenya is 6.5 inches flaccid and a good 8-8.5 when erect. He's thicker than he is long, but he's good at sex no matter what.

[ynscrazylife]

Hi Jess! I have a request similar to the paternal BAU fics you’ve done about if they were your parents, but can I please request a ‘Spencer as your big brother’ type list - idk what the sitch would be that he would end up being your guardian for but it probably made him extra protective and brotherly and yeah I would love that a lot thanks Jess!!!

spencer being your big brother (spencer reid x little sibling!reader)

i couldn’t really think of how to fit in spencer being your guardian so i’m sorry it’s not in here!

In the BAU’s eyes, Spencer is a total nerd. He’s a kid. The youngest of the group. To you, however, he’s your hero. You adore him and you look up to him for guidance on just about everything. Yes, sometimes his never-ending spewing of facts can be a bit annoying, but mostly you appreciate his wisdom and how much he seems to know about everything. It’s useful whenever you have a problem or some issue and you don’t know what to do.

The team is still shocked when one day, you waltz right into their headquarters and go right up to your big brother. Usually the most attentive one, Spencer drops everything in the moment to make sure you’re alright.

“Who is this kid??” — Derek, probably.

Spencer proudly introduces you as his little sibling, the light of his life, as well as the most important person in his life.

JJ and Garcia absolutely adore you. The rest are soon to follow, with Hotch and Derek in particular also taking a liking to you (especially Derek since Spencer’s already like his younger brother).

Even though he enjoys having you hang out with the team, Spencer otherwise prefers to keep you away from his work. He doesn’t often divulge the details of anything really that he does.

Of course, the BAU gets you to tell them stories about Spencer and show you old photos, which you’re more than happy to do.

Spencer is not happy when he finds out and that’s when the BAU sees his stern side. He very much adopts a stern parent persona, his hands on his hips, a disappointing frown, the whole thing. He has an authoritative voice that the BAU’s never heard before that immediately gets you into line.

“Why have you never talked like that on missions?” — Hotch

Even when he does have to get firm, he never stays angry with you. It’s impossible for him. He never wants to upset you, either.

If you ever have an issue, Spencer’s the one to go to. He’s a great listener and he will ask if you’re looking to rant or if you’re looking for advice/a solution.

He will protect you from anything and everything. When it comes to you, he forgets all about his fears.

Even if he is away for work, he makes sure you know that you can always call him. He will always pick up your phone call, no matter the time or day. He hates when he’s stuck in meetings or is away from his phone, because he always wants to be around in case you need him.

If you ever decide to be in a relationship with someone, Spencer’s your number #1 supporter. He will, however, go to Derek to ask for advice on how to be intimidating. He will scare your partner and make sure that they know you’re not to be messed with or left heartbroken.

And if you end up heartbroken, Spencer’s there with boxes of chocolate and his shoulder to cry on (if you don’t stop crying, he’ll call Garcia or Penelope in a panic).

Spencer’s a great tutor!! If you ever need any help in that area, he is patient and thorough. It’s very important to him that you understand the process and he is very in tune to however you learn best. There are no dumb questions.

You’ll often receive random texts from Spencer if he ever needs to rant about something that he’s interested in.

You are the first person he goes to whenever he wants to announce something! He wants you to hear any good news he has first.

Spencer may be your big brother, but he’s also your best friend. He’ll listen to any gossip you wanna share, he’ll go on Target runs with you, he’s up for pretty much anything.

But that means that you also have to be willing to go to the bookstore with him. That man can spend hours going through the shelves.

He’s a very fun and kind brother. He takes his role very seriously.

[random-fandom1984]

Hi!! 😆

May I request TFP Yandere Soundwave x human reader?

Thank for reading this (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง✨

Sorry if it doesn't have that much yandere as you were hoping for.

Okay, so, the only way I can see that you could've gotten his attention is either you're related to one of the three human charges – family or friend. Because of that, you don't know about the Autobots and Decepticons.

Soundwave was given the mission to find out more about the human pets, through humans that are close to them. Out of all of their family and friends, he chose you.

He only went through some of your info, and you're a friend of Miko's host parents that lives in a state up north, in Gravity Falls, Oregon (Yes, I'm making a little crossover with GF, but TFP came out 2 years before Gravity Falls existed, so Weirdmageddon hasn't happened yet, nor have the Pine Twins visited yet.)

You've met Miko a few times when you've came to visit, and it's best to say you don't like how loud, irresponsible, foolish, and doesn't understand people's boundaries. You were a rather quiet introverted person, and she was an overbearing extrovert, so you two didn't mix well.

When it was Christmas last year, they were at your family gathering, and she almost got your cousins hurt with firecrackers, who were mainly toddlers and young children. She even said, quote-unquote, that "They needed to live a little and not have helicopter parents deciding everything for them." The thing was that your aunts and uncles weren't helicopter parents, they were normal, calm, and understanding parents!

Miko was one of the main reasons why you lost faith in humanity, and you despised her with a burning passion. You even told this to her in her face, but she would say that you're just grumpy and should take a nap. As if you were a little child that didn't know better!

You work as an online artist that takes request for people who can't draw certain things like, animals, details, DND characters, Oc's etc.

As time went on, he was starting to get obsessed with learning more about you, and he knows more about you than anyone else you know in your life. Your favorite animal are birds, your favorite color is d/s/f/c (Dark Shade of Favorite Color), you hate people, don't like talking, have a pet European Starling named Jermey, after the crow in the Secret of Nimh because of his love for shiny and sparkly things, who is also the model for your watermarks on your designs, you like dying your hair, and so much more.

You were having a normal day, doing a live stream as you were taking requests from your viewers, when this one person in particular to do a city made out of metal, the people are robots that can transform, and even gave you an image that they "made" that was called Kaon. Interested, you took up this challenge.

It was safe to say that Soundwave wasn't disappointed with the end results of it; It looked magnificent. The image of his home was nostalgic of the good old days of Cybertron, when it wasn't just him and Laserbeak, when all of his children minicons were still alive.

The two of you kept in contact and became friends on the internet. You would tell each other about how your days went; you were told that he works as one of the higher ups in a company, has to deal with an annoying, loud, arrogant assistant of his boss – reminds you of a certain someone –, has a pet bird, is introverted, doesn't talk, doesn't like humanity- you're already hooked.

You turned a blind eye to things, like how he somehow knows where you live, find out about private accounts on social media, knows that you're talking to someone even when there's barely any people around, kind of seeming jealous/overprotective over text. The hardest one to do is when someone insults or steals your art, only to end up severely or lightly wounded somewhere between the next day to the end of the week, saying that a robot version of Slenderman or a metal bird that has an origami themed shape, etc.

There were a few things that caught your attention. How he uses the wrong terminology for things such as units time, parts of the body, even saying organics, fleshies, humans instead of people or others by their names. You were suspicious but brushed it off every time it happens.

At the beginning of Soundwave's his sire growing obsession, Laserbeak didn't even understand what was so great about you. But it changed when he was shot down by Autobots and landed out in the woods, you found him, and repaired him. During his stay, he made friends with Jeremy, and during repairs, you were gentle as you could be when fixing him up, your touched were light, you asked if what you were doing was alright, and he honestly thought of those human films where the mother would help their child when they get an injury. In this situation, he was your the child, and you were his the mother; he understood now.

Knowing Laserbeak's existence was the reason why it was a little hard to turn a blind eye to those that were injured.

When Laserbeak returned, he gave the information to Soundwave, and that's when Soundwave knew that you were the one to complete the family.

When the both of you actually met face-to-face is when you texted him that an ex of yours came back is so persistent on getting back together and won't leave you alone. When it was night, your ex cornered you, and was ranting on and on about how you should be grateful that he's giving you a second chance, even though you were the one to break up with him, only to end up dead on the pavement. You looked up to see Soundwave himself.

The first thought that came to mind didn't revolve around fear. No! It was 'Oh, god, he looks hot-'

So, you were taken aboard the Nemesis, you became a part of the Con Crew. 1.) Because you're close, in a way, to one of the Autobot's human pets; 2.) You hated humans just as much as they did; 3.) It's Soundwave. Megatron trusts him with any decision of his. A reason Soundwave gave, in public? A human to spy on the Autobots- Shut the fuck up random Vehicon, this is a human spy, not Makeshift. This isn't like Starscream's plan.

This happened only a day after Optimus Prime became Orion Pax. Soundwave had a feeling that something might happen, so he had you wear something that will cover up everything, mainly your head/face. He knows the archivist is smart, and if he were to revert back to Optimus, then he would recognize who you are.

Often times, some Vehicons would make comments about a human joining the ranks, or try to get rid of you, and they were met with an electric end.

It was only about a week later, after Orion became Optimus again, when they decided how they were going to get you in their base, and with the help of the newly arrived Dreadwing, they can do just that.

Part 2 coming soon...

So, basically this was a yandere x willing reader. I just hope you're satisfied.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟲: 𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 & 𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀/𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. not beta read. vampires. dubcon (from the inherent plot). safe, sane, and consensual though. coming untouched. no penetrative sex. implied sex. blood drinking. biting. mention of multiple orgasms. unnecessary world building. the grid & mercedes knows about george being a vampire. hickeys/love bites. bruises. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: george russell x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: prey • the neighborhood

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i guess i got too into the plot and lost myself in the exposition. i was originally going to delete the beginning ramblings of setting the scene and what not, but this would be like 500 words if i did that. for some reason, the entire grid knows george is a vampire? i couldn’t find the brainpower to explain who he’s hiding it from or how that would work in f1. the kink is more of the inherent tension from drinking somebodies blood. lol, anyways have fun reading 🫶🏽

do you want to be added to my general taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

george had gotten enough schooling to learn what classical conditioning is. pavlov conditioned dogs to salivate at the sound of a bell ringing; a conditioned response. george may have done the same thing to you–he made the mistake of making sure you orgasm as he bites and drinks from you. now every time he feeds from you, you cum, even if there’s no sexual build-up at all; it could be the most bland feeding session and the minute his venom enters your bloodstream, you can’t fight it—he’s pavlov-ed his girlfriend. he should’ve never allowed himself to feed from you.

when george first met you, he was enamored with you from the start. after every morning run, he would end at a local coffee shop and you would already be cozied up in a corner seat working away on your computer. you smelled delectable, george quickly picked up on that. he was thankful the barista had already memorized his usual order, because he really wouldn’t have enjoyed explaining why his canines had elongated into fangs. he couldn’t handle the way your blood was calling to him and left the coffee shop as soon as he got his drink, running into several people on the way out. you would be in the coffee shop on two out of the three days he came in, and he would be a serious hazard to any customer who came in during the five minutes he was there. it was like this for two months and twelve days (not that he was counting or anything), until you weren’t in your seat one day. george sighed in relief, shoulders relaxing and the fixed grimace in anticipation sliding off his face—what he didn’t expect to feel is disappointment at the lack of your appearance and addicting scent. he dismisses the emotions, convincing himself that he’s just used to the constant repression of his instincts around you. he even takes the time to engage in small talk with the baristas; two months ago he was well-invested into their lives, he has a lot of catching up to do. he allows himself to be forced into a seat at the counter to drink his coffee and indulge in a few pastries that are definitely breaking his diet. it’s an off day for him, his only plans are to stream in the evening with the usual quartet, so he can afford to dine in this morning…and indulge in catching up on the coffee shop gossip, he’s only a man, alright?

george is halfway through his cup of coffee and laughing along to a story about how this adorable kid tried to buy hot chocolate with monopoly money when the entrance door jingles open. he chokes on his sip of coffee, almost spraying it over the counter in surprise as you walk up to the counter. he turns to look at you ordering at the register, to confirm he’s not imagining your presence and—you look amazing. you’re wearing flared black trousers with a short-sleeved, white, collared shirt tucked into them, elegant gold jewelry accented against your brown skin—you’ve dressed up today. it’s different from the usual hoodie and headphones george sees you wearing in that corner nook of yours; at least that’s his excuse for why he ends up staring you down. after finishing your order, you head towards your usual seat and end up making direct eye contact with george, because the universe hates him. he sees your attempt at a polite smile and his cheeks burn red at being caught, and jerks his head forward breaking his stare. he hears you continue to walk past him, and the barista stares at him disbelievingly, “mate…you fumbled that.” george stutters through a denial, but then he hears your footsteps stop—and he knows you haven’t reached the corner seat yet. he picks up on the sound of you turning on your heels and heading back in his direction, and he drops his head into his hands, resigned. 

“ah! someone’s taken your seat today,” the barista in front of george calls out to you—george narrows his eyes at the man in warning, “come sit at the counter then; you can tell me what you’re all fancied-up for.” the barista glances at george with a smirk, and he swears this may be the first time he bleeds a human dry.

you laugh and sit at the counter, one seat in between you and george. and george sighs in relief for the second time today; you’re wearing perfume and it taints the smell of your blood, enough for him to not start salivating, at least. its silent for a minute, and george can feel your awkwardness radiating. 

“so…” you question teasingly, “not in a rush today, then?”

george turns to look at you, shocked that you’re even talking to him—he never figured he’d be in a conversation with you. while your voice may have been teasing, your eyes are soft, warmed with kindness, and george melts. he manages to muster a tease back in your direction, “no, not today. but, look at you—in business casual attire, i was starting to believe you only knew how to dress in sweatshirts?”

you roll your eyes at him, and a smirk replaces your painfully polite smile, “ah? today must’ve not been the only day you’ve been staring at me, if you’re so familiar with how i dress…even though we’ve never spoken to each other before.” george’s mouth drops open at you checking him, and he can hear both baristas giggling behind the counter. and at that moment, george is pretty sure he fell in love with you right then—even though he didn’t have the balls to ask you out for another month and a half. 

for those weeks, every time george came to the cafe, you would wave him over to your table with a bright grin and invite him to sit down across from you. even on days when he really couldn’t afford to be late, he’d find himself sitting down to chat with you. instead of being early to zoom meetings with the mercedes team, he started being on-time, often enough for lewis and toto to comment on it. his only response to their gentle prodding at the change in his behavior being, “i added another mile to my morning run,” when he really was spending those minutes talking to you after his run. after he built up the courage to ask for your number (platonically, of course), he would show up to the driver’s briefings a few minutes late, rushing in yet tapping away on his phone struggling to hide the smile on his face. for all of his superior senses, he doesn’t notice how his grid mates stare at him like he’s lost his mind; eventually, one of the officials calls him out when he glances down at the notifications popping up on his phone screen for the fourth time in five minutes, “mr. russell, i am sure that whatever you find so interesting on your phone can’t be more important than our discussion about track conditions, can it?”

george flushed red (he knew he shouldn’t have fed until later) and stumbled through an apology. after the briefing ends, the drivers start teasing him for being ‘so unprofessional,’ and lewis doesn’t help when he reveals how george has started being late to mercedes team meetings, too. charles pretends to faint, alex gasps in horror, and lando’s eyes light up at the opportunity to be a gremlin.

“boysboysboys,” lando grins, gathering everyone’s attention, “i think it’s finally happened.”

george sighed, over the dramatics already, “what’s happened, lando?”

“you’ve managed to get yourself a girlfriend!” lando shrieks, his high-pitched laughter hurting george’s ears.

george flusters, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, “she’s not my girlfriend!” and, he’s only made it worse. 

alex’s eyes widen, pointing at george in shock, “oh my god—so you are talking to a girl!” george groans and spins on his feet to leave the room, ignoring the jibes and teases of the grown men behind him. 

later that night, his hotel room is infiltrated by almost half the grid (including fernando, for some reason), all seeming to rally behind their common goal of getting george to ask you on an actual date. they debase all of george’s points about why he shouldn’t ask you out—the main point being that he’s a fucking vampire—and ask him the one question that he’s been refusing to acknowledge, “you can smell how she feels—does she smell like she likes you?”

george hisses at them half-heartedly, more like a frazzled kitten than a terrifying monster, “yes, i’m already aware that she’s interested in me—that’s the problem! i’ve already led her on this whole time, and she doesn’t know that she has a crush on an undead, immortal, vampire!” the room quiets at his outburst, and he can only groan and drop his head into his hands. 

“so just tell her,” max states bluntly, not looking away from the fifa game he’s beating charles’ ass in. george stares at max, appalled.

“let her make the decision for herself, right?” max starts, pausing the game to look at george, “for some bizarre reason she likes you for who you are,” george scoffs, “so, just tell her from the jump—you’ve already led her on enough, so give her the opportunity to decide whether or not if she should date your lame ass.”

the vampire stares at max disbelievingly, “that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

the red bull driver shrugs, ears turning red under the surprised stares in the room, and quickly un-pauses the game and scores on charles. the monegasque screams dramatically, and the tense air is broken. george shakily sighs, anxious, and pulls out his phone to ask you on a date. originally, he was thinking about asking you through a text, but with almost every driver in the room disapproving of any way he goes about wording it, he bares his fangs at them, and steps out of his own room, to call you. 

the phone doesn’t even complete the first ring before you pick up, and a pleasant, “hi, georgieeee,” slips from your mouth; he can hear how you’re smiling through the phone. he banters with you for a minute, listening to how you're singing praises about his performance even though the actual race isn’t for another day. when the conversation dies down, he blurts out the question, “do you want to go on a—“

“i would love to go on a date with you!” you cut him off, eagerly, “i mean–sorry, yes. i would like to go out with you.” george laughs, relieved and comforted by the fact that you’re as gone for him as he is for you. he can’t even bring himself to be mad when he hears the men in his room raucously cheer.

and when george took you out for brunch to the same cafe, ignoring the baristas’ proud expressions, he realized he had nothing to worry about. the conversation flowed easily, he made you laugh and you made him laugh, and most importantly, he didn't think about draining you dry like a caprisun. you’ve ditched the cozy outfits and dressed up again—dressed up for him—and george is out of his running attire and fancied up; and you make a off-hand comment about how unnatural this feels, and george is reminded of the one important thing he was supposed to tell you. time has flown by so quickly while the two of you were hidden away in your preferred corner seat, and it’s become mid-afternoon. george surveys the surroundings briefly and is shocked to find that it’s only the two of you, and the baristas in the cafe; it’s the perfect time to tell you. 

when george states that he’s a vampire, you obviously think he’s joking, “well, you’re not burning in the sunlight, georgie–so i don’t believe you! i am afraid that if this is a kink of yours, i don’t see a second date in the future.” he tries to smile at your joke but it ends up as more of a grimace, and he exposes his fangs for you to see. he hears the breath catch in your throat, sees your eyes widening in shock, blown-out pupils shrinking in fear, hears your heart beginning to race in your chest, blood rushing in your veins, and smells your scent souring.

“george russell,” you whisper yell, glancing around anxiously, “what the fuck! i believe you—you shouldn’t do that in public! what if someone else saw?!” and that’s when he realized that sure, a small amount of your fear was from the confirmation that he is a supernatural being—but mainly that, you were afraid for him. and at that point, george knew that he could allow himself to be vulnerable with you.

and after three years together, he fed from you for the first time. a lot of planning went into the initial feeding: after the end of the racing season, a trip away just for the two of you, george would satiate his thirst with his usual blood donor supply, he wouldn’t drink more than six ounces from you, you’d eat a full meal and be properly hydrated, and of course, he’d drink from you when you orgasm. the bite hurts in the beginning—george has been told many stories from feeders—and the most common distraction to the pain is a simultaneous orgasm. you were apprehensive yet extremely willing to allow george to drink from you, and told him that you trusted him completely—you even sat through his numerous clinical rundowns of the plan without complaining. 

however in the moment, george diverted from the script. instead of having you cum once, george forced three orgasms out of you and bit you on the last one. he practically mauled your neck, chest, and hickeys throughout the night, as if he was teasing himself with the indents on of his teeth on your body before he bit into you. you couldn’t figure out if it was the venom from his bite or the multiple orgasms that had you floating pleasurably. george couldn’t deny that seeing you covered in love bites and his actual fang marks didn’t provoke a hidden possessive trait in him. the love bites he left on your body would fade within a few days, the bite mark would fade in around two weeks—and you told george explicitly that if he ever wanted to feed from you again, he’d be more than welcome to do so.

the vampire always thought that he was the one who was at risk for getting addicted to your blood; his greatest fear being that he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking you dry. however, it rapidly dawned on him: you’re the one who formed an addiction.

george always made sure his thirst was properly sated with his usual blood bags before he drank from you. over three months, he’d consistently make you cum whenever he bit you, whether it was with his fingers, cock, mouth, thigh, etc. but he never quite realized that he conditioned you into cumming whenever he bit you, until the singapore grand prix.

singapore was hot. it wasn’t hell on earth like qatar, but it was still fucking hot. and then, he crashed. as he made his way back to the mercedes garage (stomping under the force of his self-deprecation), he became increasingly aware of the tingle in the back of his throat; he’s hungry, he needs blood. he ignores his race engineer asking if he needs medical attention, and asks for a ‘juicebox,’ the codeword for a blood-bag. only to find out, he had his last one yesterday after qualifying—the hotter race weekends have him draining his supply quicker than usual. the vampire whimpers, and suddenly he’s bombarded by you speeding over from the back of the garage. you’re tugging his face down to eye level, worriedly asking if he’s hurt, but george can only register how alluring your blood smells. contrary to popular vampiric-belief (if that’s a thing, he has no clue), blood does not smell sweet. it smells metallic, and the overall scent is affected by water content and ph-level; you smell velvety, and absolutely perfect to george.

the vampire briefly reassures you that he’s fine, before he grabs you by the hand and turns to toto. george begs his team principal to postpone any of his post-race interviews for as long as he can so he can get a brief feeding in with you before he loses his mind any further. toto cuts george’s pleads off immediately and allows him to do whatever he needs; the brit's temper is short enough already, if your blood can calm his mouth toto will personally send you a brand new g-wagon. 

george pulls you along to his driver’s room, slowing when he hears how you’re tripping over your feet two match his speed. he shoves the door open, but kindly guides you with a palm on the small of your back into the room, before he steps in and slams the door shut, locking it with a quickness. he speedily sits on the edge of his couch, and pulls you onto his lap, staring up at you with wide, pleading eyes.

“love,” he starts, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip, “may i drink from you? i should’ve been smarter about preserving my supply, usually i’m more careful about it, but i think i was just overager with everything this weekend. i’ll only take a small sip, just enough to hold me over until we fly back home, yeah? i mean, if you’re uncomfortable, i will not drink from you. i should be able to wait—”

you cover the vampire’s mouth with a hand, and smile softly at him, “yes, georgie, you can feed from me. the whole point of drinking from me was to have me acclimate to the feeling for rare situations like this, yes? i’m okay with it, you can take as much as you need from me.”

george stares at you for a few seconds, for some reason, he’s surprised at your easy allowance, before he’s shaken out of his stupor by you waving a hand in front of his face.

“i won’t be able to make you cum—i need to get out there as soon as possible,” george rambles out.

“ok,” you state, looking at him oddly, “i’m pretty sure i’ll be able to handle it, and if not you’ll know before i do.”

the brit asks if you’re sure one last time, before he effortlessly stands up with you in his arms, spins around and places you on the couch, sitting you where he was. the vampire kneels in front of you, and parts your legs gently, before tugging at the waistband of your pants for permission. you’re still reeling from his easy manhandling (you forget about his superior strength, he never makes it obvious), and how he fell to knees for you—the duality of his actions has you embarrassingly hot. you lift your hips up allowing george to tug off your pants, and you see firsthand how he loses his train of thought. 

when george brings you along to a race, he avoids leaving marks in a visible spots, so unfortunately for him, your neck and torso are complete bruise free; the humid weather in singapore meant that you would be wearing tank tops or cropped shirts, so he can’t risk someone seeing a smidge of a bruise on your body; they wouldn’t understand. although, george could take his fill of marking you up on your thighs. the dark skin of your inner thighs is mottled with bruises from his lips and indents of his teeth, all in various stages of healing observed by the various shades of purple they’re colored in. george slowly presses a finger into one of the marks and smirks when a strangled gasp escapes you from the pressure. if the vampire wasn’t so focused on the scent of your blood, he’d probably notice how that motion alone already had you wet.

george buries his head between your thighs, close enough that you can feel the exhales of breath from his nose over your panties. you shift, squirming away from the feeling—this is about giving george blood, which he needs for sustenance, not for you to get turned on at, you try to remind yourself.  the brit halts your movements, his hands flexing around you only slightly. you try and buck your hips away to test his grip, and you don’t move a single centimeter. you glance down, making eye-contact with your boyfriend, and the teasing smile he’s hiding behind your thigh has your heart rabbiting faster, even though you roll your eyes at him. george begins to lick and nip across your thighs searching for the best spot to pierce your skin, and you are trapped in your own mind. you’re at the mercy of an immortal being, you have no chance of fighting him off if you needed to. of course, you’re very aware that george wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but your hindbrain runs off of instincts, and it’s telling you george is a predator and you’re clearly his next meal. the adrenaline thrumming underneath your skin causes you to start breathing a little heavier and you manage to wrangle the instinctual fear away to relax under him. george startles you from your thoughts when his cold hand leads yours to rest on the nape of his neck, and he pauses when he feels you jump underneath him. 

“hey, you can still say ‘no’ if you’re not ready for this yet. there’s no pressure, love,” george reassures you. the calming tone of his voice has no judgemental lilt, and his words soothe you enough to double-down with your agreement.

“thank you for doing this for me, love. as soon as we get back to the hotel, i’ll take care of you properly–i promise,” george praises you, “now, remember, this won’t take any longer than ten seconds. if you need me to stop beforehand, pinch the skin on my neck and i’ll stop, okay?”

you swallow, clearing your throat, “yes, george. can we start already? my nerves will scare me away if we wait too long.”

george nods, hands petting at your waist reassuringly, before he focuses back on your thighs. his nose tracing along your sensitive skin for a few more seconds, until he stops and nuzzles at a spot almost on the underside of your left thigh, close enough to your pussy to have the fear fade under the anticipation of pleasure. the vampire kisses at the spot three times, before he lets his fangs slide out with an audible shlick. he presses them gently against you skin for a few seconds before he bites down.

the pain isn’t from the invasion of his fangs, but from the spread of the venom. it burns as it spreads through your bloodstream; you imagine this is what boiling alive feels like. the feeling is immense but fleeting. the initial bite has always been paralyzing, but when george takes the first pull of blood, the venom must have reached your brain and taken effect, because the pain instantly switches to an immobilizing amount of pleasure. the scream that was originally building in your chest transforms into a keening moan, the burning pain no longer present.

you feel your core tightening as george continues to feast on your blood; thighs trembling in pleasure, eyes rolling back overwhelmed, and toes curling. it’s happening so quickly, quick enough that you don’t register that you’re cumming. waves of pleasure crash over you unendingly, and you’re unable to figure out why. every drag of blood george takes ruins any chance you have to think. the pleasure is so catastrophic that you don’t even register when george releases the bite. 

the vampire can only stare up at you in awe as your mouth parts, drool beginning to leak from the corner of your lips, your eyes slamming shut, and face scrunching from the force of the orgasm he ripped out of you. george soothes the bite closed with careful sweeps of his tongue, allowing you all the time you need to come back to him. he softly sucks a few more marks into the meat of your thigh before he fights himself away from cradle of your legs, brushing a kiss on your cunt over your panties.

the vampire slides his way onto the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms to allow you to shake through the aftershocks in his grasp. he presses kisses to your forehead, while he murmurs praises freely. while his mouth is running in one direction, his thoughts take a completely different turn.

he’s ruined you for any other person. he’s trained you to orgasm with a simple bite of his fangs. your body has correlated the painful spread of his venom with pleasure. george has tied you to him for the rest of your life. this is a huge fucking problem. his mind starts racing; if that’s the case he either needs to work that out of you, or he can never feed from you in situations like this again. you’ll be useless for the rest of the day, your brain has turned into jello. he needs to make sure that he manages his blood supply properly in the future, so he doesn’t have to drink from you where the media can discover how gone you are. 

george has no idea how he would go about un-training your…pleasurable…response to his bite. on second thought, george doesn’t want to change your newfound reflex. if anything, it’s like an equal exchange. the vampire satiates his thirst, and you satiate your thirst. george coos at you adoringly when he hears the near inaudible moans your breathing into his neck—yeah, he thinks you’ll agree with him when you’re aware enough to do so.

he finds himself tracing the fresh bite mark with a thumb, groaning when your hips grind against him in return. he fumbles his phone out of his pocket to tell toto he needs at least another twenty minutes.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld@buendiabebeta@butterfly-lover@lana-d3l-rey@dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj@miahgonzalez16@jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic@sweetpiccolo-blog@my-ylenia @zaynzierulez@reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane @inloveallthetime

© httpsserene 2023

[icycoldninja]

the DMC boys (Dante, Vergil, Nero, V) finding out reader is pregnant???

Sparda boys + V x Pregnant!Fem!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Freaks the hell out--not out of disappointment or anger or anything like that, but out of excitement.

-Immediately starts researching dad jokes so he and Vergil can have a "dad-off" to see who can be cornier.

-Also helps you decorate and stuff, giggling and laughing the entire time.

-Talks a lot about his plans for the baby; how he wants to be a better dad than his was, how he wants to prepare it for demon hunting, and how he wants to train it to insult Vergil on sight.

-He's also got a whole-ass list of pranks to pull with the baby prepared, from chucking water balloons at your unsuspecting neighbors to TP-ing the neighborhood houses.

-Other than that clearly childish mischief, Dante's already rocking the "middle aged dad" vibes so he'll do fine.

■ Vergil ■

-His first thought was: "Oh no, not again."

-Vergil was legitimately afraid of having another child after what happened with Nero and his unknown mother, however, you managed to convince him that this would be different and that you wouldn't be going anywhere.

-Vergil had a lot of nightmares and troubled dreams the next few weeks. Though his heart wanted to believe you, his damaged mind had other plans, which it revealed to him in the form of horrible visions.

-With your help, and a lot of time, he got over these dark thoughts and began to see the light in having another child.

-Though he wouldn't dare speak it aloud, Vergil was convinced that the baby would reunite the Sparda family once and for all: Nero would finally have a sibling whom he'd want to visit, allowing Vergil to spend more time with his son, and since he, Nero, and the new baby would all be together, Dante would naturally join in and the boys could be bros again.

-After having that revelation, Vergil became noticeably more excited for the baby's birth.

□ Nero □

-Nero is excited but terrified.

-He's more than happy to learn you're expecting, but since he's so young, he's worried he won't make a good dad. You'd think he'd ask his parents for help, but no...he never knew his mom and his dad is less than pleasant.

-So, what does he do? Nothing. He puts his hood up and sits on the couch, doing nothing in tense silence.

-After an hour or so of brooding, he decides, fuck it, he's gonna wing it and be the best dad the Sparda bloodline will ever see.

-He proudly announces this fact over dinner at Devil May Cry, eliciting mixed responses, particularly from the soon-to-be-grandpa.

-You and Nero will be excellent parents who raise a happy, healthy child, he'll see to that.

● V ●

-Doesn't even know what being pregnant means, and can you really blame him? The only piece of literature he's ever read is William Blake's poetry, it's a miracle he can tie his shoes. Oh wait, he wears sandals.

-Griffon knows, somehow, and explains what it is. The minute the realization dawns upon him is the minute his eyes widen, his mouth drops open, and he nearly passes out.

-A baby, a real life baby is brewing gestating in your tummy and it's his?! He helped make life!? What?!

-V is ecstatic! He can't wait to read this baby bedtime stories, sing it lullabies, and rock it to sleep.

-Even his familiars are preparing; Griffon is ready to give it a light show with his magic and Shadow keeps bringing dead birds as gifts.

-V might be a complete noob when it comes to living life, but hey, so is your baby, so they can figure things out together.

[ranbowkng]

His Kingdom, His Power, My Glory

Gary thinks it'll be a good idea to infiltrate the church. A tired priest, with an adorable face, reminds him why that's a bad idea.

Gary smirked as he pulled the hood of his jacket tighter. This plan was genius. Why keep sending cultists to sneak into the church in the dead of night to make a mess of things when he could just spark turmoil in the middle of the day. The best part, they wouldn't kick him out, and they wouldn't know he was doing it. Perfect.

"Morning Father," he nodded, walking right past the priest standing at the door, greeting church-goers.

"Good morning! I- oh hold on!" The priest grabbed Gary by the sleeve, pulling him back slightly, "You're new here aren't you?"

"Ah, was it that obvious?" Gary smiled, fearing that his genius may have betrayed him already.

"Just a bit," The priest chuckled. Gary got a good look at him, he had dark brown hair, and royal blue eyes that seemed to glow. Gary could have gotten lost in that expression for hours, but he had a mission to attend to, he had far more important manners than pretty boys to worry about, "We actually have a rule, no hats or hoods in the congregation."

"Oh? My apologies," Gary said, pulling his hood down, "My old church was a bit less strict."

"No sunglasses either unfortunately," the priest smiled, but his grip on Gary's sleeve tightened.

"Afraid I can't do that," Gary said, "Got a bad eye disease. Don't wanna scare the kids away."

"Hmm," the priest's look was brimming with disappointment, but he resigned, "Alright then, we will keep you in our prayers, but please consider how you're affecting other members of the church."

"Yes, sorry Father," Gary chuckled, wanting to sigh in relief. He would not have been able to explain the peculiar case of his eyes to the priest.

Once he took a seat, he grinned ear to ear. What a fool the priest must have been to believe such a stupid lie. Regardless, the sermon was starting soon. From here Gary would be able to learn just what happens at a church service, and just how he can tear it apart.

As it turns out, there was too much sitting and standing. Too much listening and not nearly enough talking. Too much and not enough of everything, it was mind numbingly dull. Not even the Order would stoop so low as to make it's devoted followers sit for an hour doing nothing with no freedom to move.

But Gary-begrudgingly-endured it. He was certain that eventually something would happen that would be worth it. Then again, if he had to endure one more of those godforsaken psalms! They weren't quite songs, because a song required being good.

Eventually he found something, a payoff. The priest who had greeted him at the door had finished reading the gospel, and he spoke directly to the audience.

"God loves us all," he began, speaking slowly. You could hear the sound of his careful thought between each word he spoke, "The other day a woman had come to me asking how I knew."

This was perfect! If he wasn't reading off of the text then that only meant one thing, an open discussion. And when people spoke without reading off of their source, they were prone to making mistakes. And one slip up would be enough to pick him apart piece by piece.

"So I was open with her," he said, "I have suffered loss, divorce, and failures over and over again."

"Sounds like God hates you!" Gary shouted. As soon as he spoke everyone turned to him. A smirk was plastered on his face. He'd win over the crowd in twelve seconds flat.

The priest just gave him a tired glare before he continued speaking, "Despite my grievances, I still have the privilege of waking up every day. I have a new chance to prove myself every day. And the Lord tells me that I am his child and he will continue walking with me."

"I thought Jesus was the only son of God!" Gary yelled. He did his homework. Well, he read just enough to know where the hypocrisies stood out.

"We are all children of God under Abraham," the priest spoke through grit teeth, "We will be going over that next week."

"Sounds like God needs to close his legs!" Gary's smirk was growing into a grin.

"Alright," the priest took a deep breath, "Let's start over, since you clearly seem confused. I was trying to explain to a woman that God loves her and is with her through her every struggle. And to do so, I used my own life as an example."

"How did you manage to prove it?" Gary said, "Hey! Father! How do you know it's actually God talking!? Are you-"

"Some of us clearly need to start working on our relationship with the Lord!" The priest said, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to calm himself, "Some far, far more than others, but regardless. God is patient and will wait for us until the end of time."

"If God's so patient why are you getting so upset?" Gary argued.

"God is a patient man, I am not," John said calmly, "And that's okay! Because God gives us strength. Strength to overcome any challenge like frustration, or an inability to respect your church leaders."

"I fail to see how-"

"God gives us strength!" The priest spoke over him, "I believe we all have it in us to become better people through the Lord. Amen!"

Gary wanted to speak up, but the congregation seems to have accepted it was time to shut up. Unbelievable. How does a man who looks so pathetic manage to control the situation so well? Oh well, at least he can still figure out the weak points in the sermon simply by listening.

Meanwhile, said priest was glaring at him. A far older priest had taken over, but he still was looking straight through Gary with furrowed brows. Gary stared back, not that the priest could see past his sunglasses.

When the sermon was over, Gary was about ready to collapse. How does an hour of doing absolutely nothing become so exhausting? He would never blame his acolytes for their boredom during a meeting ever again.

He stood, prepared to leave, only to be stopped.

"Excuse me sir," it was the priest. He had gripped Gary by the sleeve, a soft smile on his face, "May I speak with you for a minute?"

Gary tried not to let his confident smirk falter, "Of course! What can I do for you?"

The priest chuckled slightly, "Oh no, I meant at the front. I have a couple things I'd like to discuss with you."

"Ah," Gary said. Had he been anywhere else, there was no doubt in his mind he'd be able to strike down the priest with a single glance, but this was a church. He was already weakened here, but this is where the priest would thrive. And yet, he was cocky, "Well, I don't see why not."

"Good," the priest said, "Follow me."

The priest waited for the entire congregation to leave. He stared up at the stained glass window as he waited to be alone with Gary. Gary kept a hand in his pocket, rubbing over his claw-like nails.

"I can explain," Gary said, "It's actually my first time in a catholic church, I didn't know the proper proceedings for the gospel."

"No no, I have to thank you," John said, "When one questions the bible, it means they simply wish to apply it to their life. I'm glad you gave me the opportunity to expand on what I had to say."

"Wait, really?" Gary said.

"Of course," the priest said, his nails digging into his palms, "Although, I would like to make a request." He turned towards Gary.

"Oh?" Gary raised an eyebrow, "What can I do for you?"

"Take off your sunglasses," John said, "I'd like to look you in the eyes when we speak."

"But my eyes-"

"I am not a child," the priest said calmly, "I will not panic at the sight."

"But-"

"Is that a no?" The priest asked. Gary felt that he didn't have a choice.

"Yes, of course," Gary said, reaching for his glasses, slowly taking them off. He and the priest's eyes never stopped looking on to each other.

"Mmm," the priest looked at his eyes, black with glowing red irises, "You're a demon."

"Nonsense!" I'm a normal human being just like you!" Gary argued.

"I'm no fool," the priest said, "I knew you were a demon from the moment I saw your face. Your eyes are a simple confirmation."

"I apologize," Gary said, "I simply needed information about the church."

"I'm afraid that this isn't your territory," the priest said, "Now I have to request you leave before I exorcise you."

Gary chuckled, despite the priest's clear advantage, "I'm afraid I won't be doing that." He used a clawed finger to tuck a piece of the priest's hair behind his ear, "For you see, I have a new interest to pursue, and I have no reason to leave just yet."

"Then allow me to give you one," the priest said. Before Gary could even process what was being said to him, the priest gripped him by the wrists and pushed him backwards, slamming his back against the altar, "Leave this church. If you come back I will give you a fate far worse than an exorcism."

"Heh, I suppose you reciprocate my interests," Gary smirked, only for the priest to increase the pressure he was using to hold him down.

The priest glared at him before speaking again, "You will not come back, but I will keep my eye on you. When I find your lair then we can...discuss things as adults. But for now, I expect you out of my sight, understood?"

Gary's breath hitched slightly. It's been so long since someone's given him a command without solicitation, "Yes sir~"

"Ah-ah," the priest said, "Use my proper title."

Gary rolled his eyes before smirking, aiming to piss the priest off, "Sure thing, daddy."

The priest's eyes remained unamused. He slid his right hand away from Gary's wrist and down to his throat, "I said..." his grip tightened. Not enough to constrict, but enough to cause pressure, "My proper title."

Gary did not want to admit out loud the things that those words did to him, "Of course...Father."

"Good," The priest's voice was quiet, mumbled only so he could hear. God he'd kill to have that done to him with a mattress beneath them, "Now go on, get out and don't show your face. I expect to be meeting with you very shortly."

"Of course Father," Gary said, turning to leave before the priest could get any ideas about exorcising him.

After all this, perhaps information wasn't the only thing he could get out of the church. This would be far less boring as well.

[nfr-girly]

Little Hope - Bradley Bradshaw x reader (Part 1)

Bradley’s priority’s have always been the navy and his daughter, hope, but what happens when his daughter’s teacher comes into the mix?

a/n: literally never wrote a fic before let me know if it’s good

Ever since Bradley and his ex had split up, he had been his daughter’s main guardian. He doesn’t really speak to his ex, and he doesn’t want to. Balancing being a dad and the navy wasn’t easy, so when the time came for Hope to go to pre-school, he couldn’t complain.

“Hey have you got your bag?” Brad asked

“Yes!!”

“And did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course I’m not like you” she rolled her eyes jokingly, to which he smiled at

He strapped her in her seat and pulled out of the drive. Brad was feeling all types of emotions, relief that he could spend some more time in the navy while she learns, sad that she’s growing up, also happy for her to make friends. He didn’t like feeling emotions. He never thought it ended well, and in his case it never had.

Pulling into the car park of the school, he stops for a minute. The school is a good size; he sees kids running around, parents talking to each other. He feels a sense of hope that she’ll be okay, but the other half is telling him to take her back home.

“Daddy are we going in??” Hope asks, the gap where her tooth was showing clear, she sits cuddling her bear.

“Oh yeah honey sorry” he gets out and unstraps her out her seat; they walk hand in hand towards the school.

Walking along he feels some eyes on him, at first he thinks maybe they’re judging him, or worst, hope. But as he glances he realises some of the mums are checking him out. He looks away quickly, he had decided to wear a very tight shirt today.

He walked into classroom 2b, which was what classroom hope was apparently in. He looks around and sees the back of who he guesses is the teacher. He waits till she’s done talking to a student.

But as soon as she turned around, Bradley had completely zoned out everything around him but you. As you notice him, you give him a smile and start walking towards him. If he didn’t feel nervous already, he absolutely did now.

“Hi!! Im Miss L/N!! I assume you are hope?” You kneel down to match hopes height, while Bradley’s eyes are still on you. He would’ve thought he had landed in heaven seeing you.

“Yes!! This is my daddy!!!” Hope says, tugging at Bradley’s shirt. He snaps out of his trance as you get up again, trying to understand what just happened

your POV

Being in the presence of Hopes father could be classed as its own national holiday, because being able to meet a man that gorgeous should be celebrated.

“Hi! My names Miss L/N, but you can just call me Y/N” I whisper the last part

“Hi.. Im uh- im hopes dad, but my names Bradley” he says as he shakes my hand. I don’t even know if I can think the things I’m thinking about a students dad, but who gives a shit.

“Nice to meet you Bradley, I just know hope will have a great time here!” I smile at him, which he grins back at.

“Yeah I hope. She’s feeling excited so it should be alright. so uh I gotta get going now, but pick ups at 3:15 right?”

“Yeah!” I reply; feeling sudden disappointment from him having to leave

“Hey honey I’ll be back soon okay?” He has a little conversation with his daughter, I notice a lot of features they share, same nose, same eyes. It makes my heart fill with warmth even more

He gives her a peck on the cheek before getting up.

“Well I’ll uh, pick her up at 3:15 then” he says

“Yeah um see you then” I smile

He smiles back before turning around and heading out the door.

“So hope let’s get you to your desk and meet your classmates okay!” I say

“Okay!” She smiles as we walk towards the classroom. She talks about her teddy bear, and how she named him Rooster, I assume maybe she likes roosters? Half of the conversation I may have been thinking back to her dad. God, why is 3:15 so far away?

————————————————————————

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 6)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Mentions about Relapse and Talks About Getting Better After a Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.0K

Summary: Rafe doesn't know if he has what it takes to be the person that Stella and Y/N deserve.

Masterlist

Rafe has been giving Y/N her space, but it didn’t mean he stopped trying to get her to forgive him. He sent letter after letter. Gift after gift. All of them returned. NA meetings, anger management sessions, therapy appointments and calls from Diana all go ignored as he seeks solace in his drug of choice and ways of getting Y/N to let him back into her life. It is safe to say his week is not going so great.

Lucky or maybe unlucky for him, Wheezie and Sarah were still allowed to see the light of his life and would report back to him how she had been doing. Learning how much Stella misses him causes guilt to form in his stomach. He told his father he wouldn’t be the type of father to leave his daughter, but it was his decision that forced Y/N to create that distance. Every fibre of his body wants to hate Y/N for taking Stella away from him and causing Stella pain by doing so, yet he only seems to crave Y/N’s smile and proximity. He craves their late-night phone calls and her reassurance that he can stay sober. The silence on her end makes him believe she has given up on him. That he has no hope of getting back on the proverbial horse. Again, the only thing that can help remove the little voice inside his head saying he isn’t good enough for his dad, Y/N and Stella is the powder the powder that dries up his nose.. 

After yet another attempt to gain Y/N’s forgiveness doesn’t work, Rafe finds himself returning home from Barry’s with Ziploc bags in his pockets. He has been sleeping in his house in the Outer Banks since his apartment near Y/N’s only reminds him of what he has lost. Before he met Stella, he thought the big house was all he could ask for. That the material things could fill him with happiness. But with Y/N and Stella now in his life, he knows he could not have been more wrong. He begins to feel he will never be happy again without them in his life and he rushes to the closest flat surface. 

His hands shake as he tears the bag open, letting the coke spill all over the entranceway table. He takes his credit card out and starts to form line after line. One finger comes up to his nose to block one of his nostrils so the other can inhale the drug. He does every single line until he runs out. Frustration overcomes him when he can’t get the next bag out of his pocket, so he gives up and opts to try to sleep to help dull his toxic thoughts. He is too lazy to move out of the front room, lying down in the middle of the room spread out like a starfish. 

——

Sarah and Wheezie find their older brother as soon as they open his front door. Sarah would have walked on top of him if she wasn’t looking where she was going. Both girls knew what had happened and that he wasn’t faring well. They knew he had started using again. Wheezie kneels beside Rafe’s head and slaps him awake. He bolts forward, letting out a gasp of fear. “What did you do that for?” he groans, rubbing his cheek. She looks at him with slight disappointment, “We both know you wouldn’t have woken up if we tried a nicer way of doing it.” “Okay, that may be true. What are you doing here?” he questions. It is Sarah’s turn to reply. “We are worried about you. We know you are using again and you are never going to get sober again if you don’t talk to someone.” He lies back down with a shake of his head, “What is the point of getting sober again if I’m never going to see Stella again?” 

Sarah doesn’t respond for a second; instead, she looks for something in her purse. She finally finds what she is looking for and pulls out a piece of paper. Rafe takes the outstretched paper hesitantly. The worry that he is about to read a custody agreement from Y/N fills him with dread. However, he carefully unfolds the paper to find a drawing. The stick figures with pointy hats would not make any sense to most people, but to her father, he knew exactly what they were meant to be. It is a picture of him and his little girl holding hands with witches’ hats on their heads. The big round circle beside him must be a cauldron and the black blob beside Stella must be the cat she has always wanted. The only word he can make out from the indecipherable letters is Stella’s name. Y/N is doing such a great job at teaching Stella to write her name. 

Wheezie can see the confusion about the words on Rafe’s face and goes in to translate for him. “It says get well soon. Y/N told Stella the reason you aren’t coming over is because you are sick. You want a reason to get sober?” Wheezie starts to explain. “That’s your reason to get sober again. Yes, you may not be able to see her right now, but that little girl is waiting for you to come back and you are never going to do that if you keep spiralling.” He sits back up to see the picture in a better light. Tears start to form in his eyes as all his feelings about missing his daughter come crashing down. 

“She needs me still,” he whispers to himself. Yes, his father and Y/N may think he is useless but Stella doesn’t. She hasn’t forgotten about him and still wants him to come back even after he hasn’t talked to her in a week. That is one thought he doesn’t want to leave his head, except he realizes it always does whenever he seeks comfort from the cocaine. It may help him forget about the pain Ward has caused him, but he also forgets the love he gets from Stella. And that beats every other feeling. He gets up from the floor, pulling the rest of the coke easily out of his pocket now that he can think a little more clearly. He hands it to Sarah, “Get rid of this for me, please?” She nods her head and he brings both of his sisters in for a hug. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m going to try again,” he tells them. They both return the hug, Wheezie pressing her head against his shoulder, “We believe you and we are here to help.” He may never hear those words from his father, but he is so glad he has his sisters to give him the support their father never could. 

——

“I screwed up, Diana. She’s never going to forgive me.” Diana gives him a concerned look, “Rafe, it’s going to take more than a week for her to forgive you, especially since you only decided to try to get sober today.” Rafe nods his head, playing with the band of his watch. “Right… So you think I have a chance,” he hopes. She gives him a soft smile, “I do. If you give her time and take this one day at a time, I think she’ll come around. Show her how much they both mean to you.” “I can do that. One day at a day,” he repeats. 

——

Luna’s Diner feels so much darker with the knowledge that Y/N is angry at him. He knows he should give her space, but this week has been the longest he has gone without seeing Stella or Y/N. He’s nervous as he listens to the little bell announce his arrival. The little girl at the counter looks up from her colouring and her face lights up when she sees who it is. “Daddy!” she yells, running over to him. He picks her up and brings her into a tight hug. “Are you feeling better, Daddy?” He gives her a kiss on the temple, “I am, little witch. Thank you for my card. I loved it.” Rafe sits on a stool with Stella in his lap. She tells him everything he has missed during their week away. Sabrina is now her friend again because they realize Will is a gross boy. Stella and Sabrina are now dating and their wedding is on Monday. 

“Uncle Benny and I made sculptures. His was as tall as me,” she recounts, throwing her arms apart to exaggerate. Rafe giggles at how happy she is. The sight Y/N comes back to angers her and she is about to blow a fuse. “What are you doing here?” she grits through her teeth. She rounds the counter to take Stella in her hands. He stands up with his hands in the air to show he meant no harm, “I just wanted to talk to you. And catch up with Stella.” “You lost the right to do that when you rela- when you did what you did while Stella was home,” she argues. 

“I know, you know I regret that completely. I will never forgive myself for putting her in danger. I want you to know I’m back on track to getting better.” 

“That’s great. But I can’t just trust you like that again Rafe,” she snaps her fingers to iterate her point. “I want you to leave, please.” Stella looks between the two adults in confusion, wondering why it seemed they were talking in code. Rafe looks into Y/N’s eyes and sees the frustrations she feels. He doesn’t want to cause her any more trouble, so he heads toward the door. “Daddy, where are you going? Aren’t you going to play with me?” Stella calls out in a plea. His heart stops for a second and he doesn’t know how to get it to start beating again. He shakes his head sadly, “I’m sorry, little witch, but I have to go. I have work tomorrow.” Stella’s eyes start to brim with tears. “But you didn’t give me a hug yet,” she cries, holding out her arms for him. He looks at Y/N to confirm he is allowed to and she gives a solemn nod. She can’t deny her daughter a moment with her father. 

Y/N puts Stella down on the floor and Stella runs to her father. She goes into his arms, burying her head into his neck, “Bye-bye, Daddy. Forever and always?” He returns the intensity of her hug and kisses her. “Forever and always.” Her feet find the floor again and she watches as Rafe leaves her. He turns around when on the other side of the glass, blowing the little girl a kiss. Stella may not understand what is going on between her parents, but she can sense something has changed between them and that she might never see her father again. She goes back to her mother with hopeful eyes, “When can we see Daddy again?” “I don’t know, Baby. I’m sorry,” Y/N hates to say, giving the girl a hug to comfort her. 

——

Rafe does not blame Y/N for still being mad at him and for being hesitant to bring her back into their lives. He broke her trust, which is a sacred thing. The gifts were obviously not working and he is honestly glad it doesn't. Thinking back on it, he wants to gain her trust back through actions instead of materialistic things. He isn’t sure how to make it up to her, but he knows he can start a plan. First things, booking his next therapy appointment and increasing how often he sees Dr. Winters. Next, he will meet with Diana and reflect on why he relapsed so he can make a relapse prevention plan. Finally, make a list of possible places to go to rehab if he feels he can’t get sober in his current environment. 

Yes, this plan isn’t about getting back Y/N, but it helps him with recovering from his relapse and this will hopefully show Y/N how serious he is. As he writes down his plan, he vows to do everything in his power to gain back Y/N’s trust and show her he will never make the mistake of putting Stella in danger again.  

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[silvernightabyss]

“Who says the protagonist's life has to be happy?” - Chapter 1

Yandere Hero x gn!Reader

Isekai, who among us hasn't dreamed of it? Well, get it signed. Try not to throw yourself into the arms of the protagonist as soon as you see him. Remember, you may know everything about him, but he's seeing you for the first time. The thoughts of the protagonist come as a gift.

How many references do you want? Yes.

word count: 2.9k Prologue/Chapter 1

It's been two weeks since you've been in the fantasy world of the novel. Adapting has been difficult, even though you've inherited fragmentary memories of the original owner of the body. The unfamiliar people, surroundings, etiquette, and architecture were very disconcerting. To your shame, you spent your first night sobbing quietly in your room in the temple. The only thing you were probably lucky about was that you weren't a member of the church, just a hired sewist. Given the fact that the high priest was the one who raped Evan, you had no desire to see the man, whose name was Donavan. Make sure you memorize that shithead's name and if you ever summon a demon, sell his soul.

In fact, you hadn't seen him or Evan since you'd been in this world. And while the first pleased you, the second disappointed you. As you learned by asking the servants, Evan and his team were on a quest to destroy one of the demon lords living in a poisonous swamp. This happened at the beginning of the first volume, as you may recall. And what the author thought to add the location of the poison swamp, in all games it was always the most annoying part. Probably because the author was an insufferable evil bastard who drew inspiration from the most annoying things created by human hands. A sudden wave of anger almost ripped the thin fabric in your hands in half. Then you stroked it quickly, as if to comfort it, removing the creases that had formed.

Poor Evan was going to get poisoned by some nasty animal and come back to the temple with a fever for a week. Sad, of course, but nothing that with your level of power you could change. The day after the isekai, you tried a little magic. Find some chakra, mana core, nen or something. But no. All you got was to feel like an idiot for half an hour, huffing and puffing like a pissed-off hedgehog. No transmigrator buffs. No annoying system or divine companion. Nothing. That made you completely powerless to help Evan. It was frustrating, angry, and made you want to bang your head against the wall. Your modern upbringing couldn't allow you to ignore someone else's misfortune. If you worked in the kitchen, you would surely spit in the soups and drinks that are made especially for the High Priest. Unfortunately, those are the only petty thoughts of revenge you could afford.

Part of you just wanted to leave, good thing sewing skills were embedded in your subcortex, and you could find work somewhere else, not in a place where you knew one hero suffered every day. You wince. Thinking about it like that made you feel bad about yourself. It was vile to think of leaving. As the only person with knowledge of the situation, you had to stay and try to help in any way you could. Even if your attempts would be fruitless in the end.

You spent the next two hours diligently embroidering new robes and fixing old ones where the fabric was too worn. Unpleasant thoughts of varying degrees of intrusiveness kept popping into your head, but you studiously ignored them. Their content was something like “To be or not to be”, only your option was “To stay or not to stay”.

After you finished your work, you picked up a pile of robes and went to turn them in to the storekeeper. The temple was beautiful, even to your unassuming eye. The entire continent worshiped the Creator who made the world and the gods they created to help look after the people. In fact, you remembered from the book that the mythology of Evan's world was very interesting. Incredibly written and detailed lore describing events from ancient times to the present day. Some of the knowledge you had already forgotten, but for example you remembered that the Irin continent, where the main story took place, was named after the god's favorite angel.

The central temple of the capital was dedicated to the Creator. Numerous frescoes on the ceiling depicted the creation of the world and the races that inhabited it. For the first week, you walked with your head up, and more than once you were on the verge of falling. The tall, graceful steles also drew attention to the care with which the flowers and leaves were molded, as if they were real and the spell had just turned them to stone a moment ago. The garden wasn't to be forgotten, you'd only been there once, but it was already completely engraved in your heart. Score one for staying. Overall to summarize the temple was beautiful, the priests friendly. So why the hell is this place of paradise run by this goddamn pervert! The Creator's eyes are blown out of their heads to let a man like that in charge of their temple? Unbearable.

Your boots thudded loudly and angrily on the marble floor, and you continued on your way. The servants and priests you encountered preferred to avoid you in a wide arc, sensing in their gut the dark and heavy aura you gave off. With the power you put into opening the door, you could shred a mountain to pieces with a single blow. Yeah, like that bald guy, that's how powerful you were at that moment. The storekeeper didn't even lift his head from the paper he was looking at. Inwardly, you marveled a little at his restraint; you yourself would have jumped on the spot if you had been rushed in with such a bang. More calmly you approached the not-young man whose most prominent feature was his giant-hooked nose.

“I brought the robes, where should I put them?” Your voice rumbles through the room.

The man nodded vaguely toward a neighboring room filled with baskets full of robes. The servants had to wash and dry the robes before handing them back to the priests. Why the freshly sewn robes had to be washed was a big question, but not of your mind. You were about to leave when you were stopped by the storekeeper.

“Go to the infirmary and get the medicine for the hero. His chambers are in the east wing of the temple on the third floor.”

During your entire stay in the room, the storekeeper didn't even look at you, and after he gave you the order, he started acting as if you weren't even here. Well, the main thing is that he didn't yell. You shrugged your shoulders and left the room.

The stone-face test was successfully passed, the die rolled on a twenty! In fact, your heart was racing, and your palms were unpleasantly sweaty. Did all this mean you would be able to see Evan? You didn't even know he'd returned. With an effort of will, you suppressed the joyful scream that burst from your mouth. You're going to see the protagonist of this damn novel. Almost dancing, you hurried toward the infirmary.

The nurse, whose name was Ellen, gave you your medication as soon as she heard that you had come from the storekeeper. The girl explained that because of the upcoming festival dedicated to the Creator, all the servants were busy preparing for the sacred rituals. Mentally, you tsked. That no servant could spare time for the precious hero of the Church? Nonsense, of course, but nonsense that plays right into your hands. Having memorized what to give and in what dosage, you headed for the eastern wing.

The corridors became more and more empty with every turn, as if you were entering a forbidden zone. The atmosphere was oppressive and growing colder with each step. A creak sounded very close to you, made you jump on the spot and freeze. It was scary to turn around. You didn't want to see the ghost behind you. On bending legs, you turned around and ….Mmm No, that's just your overactive imagination working for the bread. There was nothing behind you. Nothing in the front, either. Cussing under your breath, you continued walking. Isekai had definitely taken a toll on your nerves. Shame they hadn't invented valerian here yet.

The doors to Evan's chambers were carved, decorated with ornaments of flowers. You knocked hesitantly, and when there was no answer, you knocked again, but louder. Maybe he was asleep? What was to be done? The nurse had said the medication had to be timed to avoid making him feel worse. The doorknob in your hand felt like a ticket to heaven or hell. Praying in your mind to who you didn't know, you pushed it down. With a quiet click, the door opened. Like a mouse about to steal cheese, you quietly slipped through the gap and closed the door behind you. You hoped Evan wasn't a cat that would eat you for entering without permission.

The main hero's chambers were green, very green, not because the walls and furniture were that color, but because of the dozens or even hundreds of pots with various plants. As a half-elf, Evan had the ability to understand and talk to plants. For a long time in the novel, they were his only friends, listening to all his sorrows. Sighing sadly, you headed for the door behind, which was presumably the bedroom.

Evan lay on the bed, resting peacefully, deep in sleep. The blanket lay in a bunched pile at the half elf's feet. His complexion was very pale with blue veins clearly visible, there were deep bruises under his eyes, and his breathing was intermittent and heavy. Despite this, he was still more handsome than the sleeping beauty herself. If you thought the comparison was inappropriate, just never mind. On tiptoe, you moved closer and leaned over the sleeping hero. Handsome. You especially liked the way his leafy green hair curled around his pointy ears. You wanted to catch one strand between your fingers and then watch it curl back. You weren't weird. Not at all.

You put the tray of medicine on the bedside table with a little more clatter than you'd like, but Evan didn't wake up, thankfully. The half elf's forehead was scalding hot, and you jerked your hand away quickly. Looking around, you spotted a basin of water on the other side of the room and quickly soaked the rag you'd grabbed from the tray before placing it on Evan's forehead. That's better. Satisfied, you smiled to yourself.

The question of how to medicate the unconscious hero was still open. You frankly didn't want to wake him up. You remembered from the book that Evan's condition was extremely serious, and he didn't come to his senses at all. Rest is the best medicine. It's better if you quietly do your business and leave, and he won't even know you're in his chambers. Shit, that sounded like some kind of thief.

Pass the cure with a kiss? You shook your head frantically as soon as the thought crossed your mind. God, you'd read too many romance novels. Conscience and morality would never allow you to violate Evan's personal boundaries like that, considering how they'd already been violated by the high priest. Besides, it would be despicable to do that to any person.

But then what were you supposed to do? You'd just have to pour the drugs into Evan's mouth and hope he didn't choke. That's about what you did, luckily without becoming a hero killer. Now comes the most difficult and embarrassing part. Ellen gave you an ointment to rub into the half elf's chest. The medical reasons behind this you almost completely missed, and you only had to take on faith the necessity of this action. Evan wouldn't like it if someone he didn't know undressed him and started performing medical procedures on him. Right? So something had to be done about it.

One of the scraps of fabric Ellen put on the tray caught your eye. It's perfect. You'll pretend to be a butler, covering your eyes with a strip of fabric so as not to embarrass your mistress. Master. You mean Evan. Quickly and tightly tying the band, you found yourself in darkness. With suddenly trembling hands you fumbled for the collar of the half elf's shirt and from it, you easily reached the buttons. Normally you would have easily done it in less than a minute, but now deprived of sight and incredibly embarrassed; each of your actions was stretched to the point of impossibility. After an eternity according to your internal clock, you finally managed this undeniably difficult task.

So it was time for the ointment, which was as green as you remembered and smelled like bumps or something else freshly herbal. Incredibly embarrassed by your own actions, you rubbed the ointment in as fast as you could without lingering on any part of Evan's skin. What's a stupid trail? A relieved exhale escaped you when this torture finally stopped. Ellen had said the ointment should absorb very quickly, literally in less than a minute, and in your head you drummed your fingers on your thigh, ticking off the seconds. When the time was up, you hoped for it towards the end you began to speed up the count, with all care you covered Evan with the blanket. The nurse had said the fever would go down very quickly, which meant the half elf could get cold.

And so it was done! Now you could leave with a clear conscience. You pulled the bandage off your eyes, blinked in the light, and hurriedly picked up the tray, leaving the room. Before you passed through the doorway, you took one last look at Evan, still sleeping peacefully. Handsome even when he's sick. Nodding affirmatively at that thought, you headed back to the infirmary to return the medication to the nurse.

***

Evan woke up when someone started undoing the buttons of his sleeping shirt. His first thought was that it was Donavan, so the only thing he could do was lie there and not fight back. Was he sick of his powerlessness? So sick that he wanted to open his chest with his hands and rip out his damn heart, which sometimes allowed itself to hope for the best. The half elf left his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the high priest's ugly face, twisted with desire. He could still visualize it all too well, anyway. A convulsion shot through his arm and he clawed his fingers into the sheets, his nails almost tearing the fabric.

Halfway through the unbuttoning, Evan suddenly realized that the fingers that sometimes grazed his skin were different from Donovan's skinny, knotted fingers, the pads of which were covered with calluses. In addition, a strange chill spread from his forehead down his body. Was it the damp cloth? It was only because of the two factors above that he actually opened his eyes and saw you. The snort that almost came out of his mouth, he held back with an incredible effort of will. A blindfold? It was ridiculous, even more ridiculous than the mix of slime deer and owl he'd met in the swamp. Ridiculous but oddly cute. The mere thought that he might be uncomfortable being stared at half-naked had never occurred to anyone. With already great interest and friendliness, he began to consider your appearance.

When you reached for the green jar, he recognized it as an antipyretic. A spark of realization lit him up, and Evan bit his lip. He was ready for the feeling of a thousand little insects crawling under his skin, but your touch didn't disgust him. Evan blinked perplexedly when he realized this. Short and medically detached, your touch was devoid of any lust. Noticing your fingers trembling, Evan concluded that at the very least you were awkward. Later his guess was confirmed by your tapping on your thigh, too uneven and often out of rhythm to be a sign of boredom or impatience. The blanket you covered him with forced him to smile slightly. A display of simple human caring that he had always been deprived of. The thought made him feel unpleasantly empty inside.

When your fingers reached for the bandage, Evan closed his eyes as quickly as possible, not even knowing why. He didn't have an answer to that question. Listening to the quiet rustling of the fabric of your clothes and the tinkling of the medicine on the tray made his heart feel lighter for some reason. It was as if you were not a randomly sent servant, but someone close to him who genuinely cared about him.

The creak of the door alerted him to your departure, but with his keen hearing, he could still hear your footsteps outside his chambers. As soon as they were gone, Evan sat up on the bed, causing the cloth on his forehead to fall down. Silently, he twirled it in his hands. His head felt strangely empty. Perhaps the only question that bothered him now was; who are you? Meeting you had irrevocably changed something in him, as if he had been a broken clock just now starting to run.

Evan rolled back over, sinking into the soft mattress, and returned the cloth to his forehead. The next time you two meet, once he's recovered enough to walk, he'll be sure to ask your name. With that thought, his exhausted mind took to its realm of Morpheus.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

[milquetoast27]

Subtext in The Creeping Man

I find that this story of Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmes canon features some of the most complex subtext we've had aside from A Study in Scarlet. But rather than being complex early-on because of our lack of knowledge of the characters, it is rather complicated by the fact that we both know too much and too little of their relationship. This story, with astonishing subtlety, conveys the cooperative relationship between Doyle's two characters — the nuance in their limits and strains, but also the joys that they work to reach, together. It emblemises the beauty of the Canon, where it all ties back to the joy and complexity of human understanding and belonging.

This story opens in "those latter days" (1903, near to Holmes's retirement) where Watson describes their relations as "peculiar". The word certainly feels like a euphemism from the ever-polite Dr. Watson, when it is soon made clear that their relations were far from amenable. Watson has become one of Holmes's "concentrated habits", and apparently is as good as a piece of funiture, as all of Holmes's remarks would have been as "appropriately addressed to his bedstead." It's given through snapped sentences; "I was a whetstone for his mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence." This "irritation" and discordance between them is extremely concentrated in the early pages of this story, but drags through it, as well. Take, for example, the "laconic" (or perhaps iconic?) message:

"COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT — IF INCONVENIENT COME ALL THE SAME. S.H."

Watson gives us the original of Holmes's telegram to demonstrate to his readers just how "long-suffering" he is. A true exhaustion is apparent in how he simply shows the telegram, rather than politely referring to it. Compare this with the unendingly civil telegram sent to Watson in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and you can see the great shift that has taken place in their alliance.

"HAVE YOU A COUPLE OF DAYS TO SPARE? HAVE JUST BEEN WIRED FOR FROM THE WEST OF ENGLAND IN CONNECTION WITH BOSCOMBE VALLEY TRAGEDY. SHALL BE GLAD IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME. AIR AND SCENERY PERFECT. LEAVE PADDINGTON BY THE 11.15."

While long-term and intimate relationships will remove need for over-courtesey, there are two very different reasons for why Doyle has shown both of these telegrams at a point in time. This accumulation of Holmes's ungrateful behaviour not only imparts Watson's utter despondancy, but also, importantly, Holmes’s — and this is something that Watson's ever-perceptive and intelligent heart does not fail to miss. It is important to note that this story nears Holmes's retirement, where he acknowledges that he has been "sluggish in mind". There is no doubt, then, that the great detective is out of his prime. Hence the temperementalness, taking his Watson for granted, and a heavier reliance on those "narrow and concentrated habits."

Despite the turbulent roads of their life, we see Watson's undying devotion co-exist with it. Past all the irritation, Watson closes, "Such was my humble role in our alliance." It is more than clear that he consciously makes the decision to remain at Holmes's side, to be his ally. Such has always been Watson's role in their alliance. His "humble" service extends to his practice as doctor and soldier. His pride is in his duty to others, and to Holmes as his assistant.

There is something that shines through Holmes's unsocial behaviour when we look closely at the text.

I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes glanced across at me. "The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest issues may depend upon the smallest things."

We know from the Canon (opening of DANC and RESI) that Watson's emotions are like an open book to Holmes. This 'sinking in some disappointment' is not missed by Holmes's 'glance'. "The same old Watson!" he says, and I feel it important to note that he compliments one of Watson's most distinguishing features; his stability and fixture — the "one fixed point in a changing age." Yet, we may miss these details, because Holmes, ever in his own insecurity, must back-hand every praise with a teasing chide. We could say that an attempt was made to cheer Watson up, though not very successful.

Developments continue, as Holmes tryingly says "I had hoped to have a longer chat with you", then parades him with compliments before their client, "Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion". But mixed indications continue to come as he flips back to patronising language; "You will appreciate it, Watson, when"—. Doyle further cements Holmes's particular unbecoming behaviour on this day as he further also annoys their client, who speaks in a "tone of reproach" when Holmes does not listen, and is "clearly annoyed" at irrelevant interruptions — to which, Holmes only smiles in, what I believe, is pure self-importance.

Here we find a shift — a greater effort on Holmes's part, a second round of appreciation for Watson's stability, even when his opinion is faulty. "Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground". He's then included in his bubble; "We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?", and even a sordid attempt at bringing Watson with him on the bait of the Chequers in 'Camford' where "the port used to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach." (Which he follows up on!)

And, despite these attempts, their connection still does not rekindle. Watson is clearly irritated still with the inconsiderate easiness with which Holmes was able to leave London, leaving only difficulty on Watson's end to join him. It's an indicator from Doyle that nothing's remedied, yet.

Here is an interesting passage for study.

"Have you the effrontery necessary to put it through?" "We can but try." "Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can but try — the motto of the firm."

Burstive praise from Holmes at the merest utterance of a phrase — a phrase which has only ever been used one other time in the Canon; the previous story, The Problem of Thor Bridge. This suggests it may be some small motto of Holmes's, though one not often seen in Watson's records — this makes his use of the phrase a very Holmesian approach. This participation, no doubt, is nothing but a delight for Holmes, who is trying to restring their relationship, and continues to overenthusiastically affirm Watson's sturdiness.

Yet it's made clear that superficial praises are not a true apology, as we see signs yet again of Watson's dispassion. As they sit to their meeting with Professor Presbury, Watson writes:

Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.

This sentence may seem unassuming, but be assured it is one of the coldest in the Canon. This usage of "Mr. Holmes" is entirely unique within the Canon. In other times, when Watson has used "Mr. Holmes" or "Mr. Sherlock Holmes", it has been when speaking directly to his readers, since they would be using the honourific. This moment is the only exception, where Watson has intentionally used "Mr." to create distance and convey undesire for intimacy with Holmes (rather than any professional effect). Why has Watson used the line here? Well, Holmes is 'smiling amiably' — in a way that forces a friendly manner, one that attempts to create a good impression with Professor Presbury — which also didn't work out, by the way. Considering all the superficial means up to now employed by Holmes on his companion, Watson no doubt feels cheapened and no more important than Holmes's investigative objects; as if his trust is just as easy to gain as anyone else's, with nothing but an 'amiable smile'.

We are shown time and again that Watson isn't pleased with Holmes's desultory attempts at reconciliation, until finally, a shift happens. One that is not identifiable in the text, and so is reasonable to assume happened unpenned. We find Holmes acknowledging that "Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to", when before this information seemed completely irrelevant to him. Holmes even sent Watson a "short note asking [him] to meet at the train"! The greatest change is when we finally have Watson using "my friend" and "my comrade" for the first time in this story. Now we see Watson taking real excitement in the case, in the "assurance of [his] comrade". Self-teasing also makes its way into their dialogue as Holmes cries "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been!" The emphasised address seems to suggest an apology for something more. It's as if he cries 'Look how wrong I have been Watson, how imperfect and daft I can be!' It's adorable, really.

All semblances of reproach towards Holmes disappear as they steal together in darkness, come to the dénoument of their adventure, as Holmes philosophises on science and nature, and described admiringly as "the man of action". Our story ends in a light-hearted resolution, as always.

"There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we catch it."

To conclude, this story presents so much so subtly in its pages; a reflection of the small, nuanced and unseen processes between human beings, but those which we must be attentive to in order to find fuller understanding between each other. Yet, there is still much uncertainty in my inferences; which also shows the uncertainty of language and communication. We simply must be clear of ourselves, as we can only assume Holmes and Watson were, off-page, for them to have found that resolution, rather than fleeting smiles and compliments. Arthur Conan Doyle, with this story, further cements the triumph of bonds and connection, perhaps far more than any other of his stories.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I think that part of the reason that Max focuses on Marinette isn’t just that she beat him second, it’s that she beats him at the LAST SECOND.

When Marinette shows up, the tryouts are about to end. We aren’t given much info about how the tryouts are structured, so I’ll admit this is conjecture, but a couple hours to whittle all the hopefuls down to two competitors sounds reasonable, and with how serious Max is about this, he’s probably been there since the beginning. So Max (and presumably Adrien) have been in this library for a while, getting and maintaining the highest scores (or participating in a tournament-style elimination? Again, it’s unclear). The final fight is over, the library is about to close, the principal announces that they’ve found their two champions… and along comes Marinette at the last possible second, and suddenly Max has lost his spot.

I agree with everything you’ve written about Max and the episode’s writing in general, but I also think there’d have been less resentment if Marinette had shown up near the beginning of tryouts instead of swooping in at the end.

(Post that spawned this ask for context)

Making the preliminaries feel like a big deal would have been a great way to give more weight to Max's disappointment and to make Marinette's actions feel less reasonable! As is, it's like you said, everything is somewhat unclear, but I'd actually argue that this lack of clarity works in Marinette's favor, not Max's. I didn't want to get into this part of the episode's issues in the other post because it was already super long, but the episode's opening is another reason that Gamer plays poorly.

The nature of the tournament's introduction makes Max look petty because it comes across like he's throwing a fit over a minor competition. I mean, how big a deal could this tournament be if Marinette didn't even know that it was happening until she stumbled on the preliminaries? After all, all of Marinette's friends were there and Marinette was even on her way to meet Alya who we see actively recording the preliminaries, but until Marinette arrives, she has no idea that any of this was happening, giving the impression that this was something casual thrown together last minute:

Tikki: Hey Marinette, weren't you meeting Alya back at school this afternoon to research your term paper? Marinette: Oh no, I'm late! Again! [Scene Change] Tikki: What's that noise? Marinette: Hide, Tikki! Kim: Come on, Max. Marinette:(Sees Alya recording) What's going on, Alya? (Alya shushes her) Rose: Try-outs for the Paris Ultimate Mecha Strike III Tournament! This school sends the two students with the highest scores!

Along similar lines, how is Marinette in the wrong for joining as soon as she learns about the tournament? It's not like she was shown to not care until she knew that Adrien was playing. She learned about the tournament, Adrien's participation, and Max's goals all at the same time! We have no idea how she would have felt if Adrien wasn't playing. The show never tells us that, but it does tell us that she's an avid gamer. She may very well have wanted to play if she had time to think about it!

It would have been MUCH better if the episode established that Marinette already knew about the tournament and had actively decided not to play, but changed her mind at the last second because she learned that Adrien was taking part.

Imagine how differently these opening scenes would play if Marinette knew that Alya was recording the tournament, but actively planned to only show up at the end because she didn't care to watch or participate. She just wanted to hang out with Alya once Alya was free. But Marinette doesn't show up at the end. Instead, she manages to be a few minutes early, learns that Adrien is playing, and then forces her way into the tournament based on everyone knowing how good she is at the game. That's a very different tone than the one that the episode gives us. You could build on that new tone to make Marinette feel like she was in the wrong unlike canon which did nothing to make Marinette look bad.

Like imagine if this bit was Marinette guilting Damocles and pushing her way in when she had already turned down a spot instead of Marinette kindly asking if she could play within seconds of learning that the tournament was happening:

Denis Damocles: Well, I think we have our two champions lined up for the Paris tournament. Marinette: Wait! Uh, Is it too late... to try out? Denis Damocles: Well, the library is closing up in five minutes, but...

Those kinds of changes would massively reframe Marinette's actions and make her look a lot more selfish, especially if you had her walk in on everyone congratulating Max and Adrien on winning the preliminaries, really giving the feel that everything was finished and that she should just accept the fact that she chose to not play. Instead, she walks in while Max and Adrien are still competing, giving us the impression that things are still going.

That's not even close to what canon gave us. In the context of canon, the above scene wouldn't change even if you changed Marinette's motivation to be that she just really likes the game and wants to show off her skills. You can even argue that it was unfair for them to hold this tournament without giving people more notice so that Marinette and others could really consider if they wanted to play, which brings us to another reason that this scene makes Max feel petty: Marinette's ability to play at the last minute without any real pushing on her part makes this come across as a casual tournament and her desire to jump in feels totally reasonable.

If you've ever done any sort of competitive elimination event (which I have in both gaming and sports), then you're probably aware that you can't join a serious tournament mid-event. There would have been a clear start time and registration deadline so that they could establish a bracket and that bracket is then the law of the land. Not on the bracket? Sorry, you can't play. That wouldn't be fair to the other competitors.

But that's not what we see. The fact that Marinette can just hop in without any really push-back implies that this is not a serious event. That it's something more ad-hoc. This is further exacerbated by the lack of prizes in the main tournament. While I can't say with total certainty that there isn't a prize, we're never told that you win anything, so no prize is the logical conclusion which makes the tournament feels like a casual fun event and not like something serious where you should care about losing.

In summary, I like your idea, I think that it would massively improve the way that Max comes across, but you'd need to make some minor changes to the start of the episode to make this idea work. As-is, I don't think that it has a strong backing in the text.

[bonefall]

May i ask why do you think that Brambleclaw wasn't a good father? not saying i disagree if that is what you think, but why do you? just wondering because i like what you say

Again I hope to have time sometime soon to make a big thing like I did with Breeze, but what gets me about Bramble is that incredibly self-concerned. Like, regularly unable to see past his own feelings to the point where he can't consider his effect on other people.

And Po3 in particular is ALSO trying to frame him like the perfect, most amazing dad in the world. It's for the dramatic irony of the reveal, and to make it EXTRA sad that he's going to abandon his children when he finds out they're adopted... but in the process, they just ignore anything crummy he does. Like he can Do No Wrong.

Particular instances I plan to get into;

When he's angry or disappointed, he's NASTY. He isn't this "super supportive papa" that the Three keep saying he is; he's most supportive when they're making him proud.

He fails to notice that Lionpaw's behavior is getting increasingly violent as a result of his mentor physically abusing him. Is that "Great Dad" material? To not notice your son is struggling?

We eventually learn that Ashfur approached him after one of these savage beatings to butter up to Brambleclaw, insisting that this sort of physical abuse is neccesary because it will give him a strong son.

Stress that again; Ashfur appealed to Brambleclaw's ego so he could keep beating his teenage child. In what world is that "Great Dad" material??

When Hollypaw then tries to tell her dad about how uncomfortable seeing her brother being savaged made her, Bramble tells her... ohh she's So smart, and So so responsible, and he relies on her to keep her brothers in line, and what Ashfur is doing is neccesary.

In any other book series, this would have been a MASSIVE condemnation of Brambleclaw. To be manipulated into allowing his son to get beat, and then turning around to tell his daughter he trusts her to understand it because she's so mature.

But because the Erins like Bramble so very much, it's not acknowledged. Then Ashfur tries to murder these kids later.

And like... again, they want him to be seen as so wonderful and amazing so that it's extra painful when he disowns these kids, but AGAIN, Brambleclaw is supposed to be this incredibly loving, unconditionally loyal, amazingly responsible father...

So how exactly is THAT consistent with abandoning his kids during the most upsetting time of their lives?

Does a wonderful father get consumed by his own pain and humiliation and cut off his kids, one of whom is in the middle of a breakdown? Does he take out his divorce on the children? Is being a "wonderful father" seeing the son you let get abused looking at you, DESPERATELY missing you as his dad, and just turning away?

Or, maybe, being a parent is about being mature. Putting aside your own personal anger or pain or ego to be there for your kids. Something like that???

And yet, he continues to act like that for an entire year. Not improving or self-reflecting at ALL the entire time. When it's miraculously revealed that Hollyleaf isn't DEAD, he's STILL wallowing. The kid he raised came back from the dead but FUCK that, who cares, "what about MY feelings?? Why is no one thinking about whats really important. Meeee."

(Mind you, he was willing to help this same person get away with murder in the last arc. But back then, she was his daughter. Now he doesn't care.)

Eventually SQUIRRELFLIGHT has to tell him that he shouldn't throw away his entire family because he's mad at her. Someone ELSE had to shout it down his thick skull that his bitterness is consuming him and he's ruining his life. Even after a year of punishment, she holds his hand like a big baby and guides him away from his OWN destructive behaviors.

But this isn't about Squilf. This is about Brambleclaw.

He enabled his son's child abuse. The abuser went on to attempt murder of his victim. He IMMEDIATELY turned on the kids he raised when he found out they were secretly adopted, because he was angry at his ex-wife. He only changed because the EX-WIFE told him to cut it out.

That's why I think he's not a great dad. I think talk of his Greatly Dadness are narration wank, and when you look closer, you see a FASCINATINGLY flawed character that the Erins hold back out of WEIRD writer favoritism.