#do I understand lighting now? no <3 I do not <3

[starless-nightz]

The look of love

note -> I am NOT ready for act 3, I don't want Arcane to end :[[[

parts -> [part one] | part two

pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader

summary -> Jinx always believed that she would end up alone, she always did. That was until you and Isha came into her life and now she finally has something—someone—worth living for.

warnings -> none.

content includes -> just fluff.

Jinx didn't believe in happy endings. Not for her, not for anyone. Sure, people in Piltover might have them—their shining golden mansions and glittering dresses made them seem like they walked out of fairy tales. But here in Zaun? Happy endings were as real as unicorns, and Jinx would sooner blow herself up than believe in that kind of nonsense.

She had convinced herself she didn't care.

That was until you came along. And then later, Isha.

————

The first time she met you Jinx didn't think much about you. You were just another face in the crowd of Zaun, another person struggling to make it through the grime and smog. She’d been trailing through the streets, looking for some scrap or bauble to turn into her next explosive creation.

And there you were, crouched in some abandond alley with your hands tangled in wires, fiddling with some broken-down device. You didn't even look up when she stopped next to you, a hand resting on her hip as she watched you.

"Hey, you planning on blowing that thing up, or is it just me?

You jumped, your head smacking against the device. Groaning, you rubbed at your scalp and turned to glare at her. "What do you want?"

Jinx tilted her head. "Ooh, feisty. I like that." She crouched next to you, her eyes darting over your work. "What's this supposed to be?"

"Nothing you'd care about."

"Try me."

You let out a sigh, but humored her. "It's a transmitter. Or it's supposed to be. Trying to fix it so I can get in touch with someone topside. Supplies down here are running thin."

She knew should've walked away. Jinx never got involved with other people's problems. It was easier this way: to keep to herself and keep the world at arm's length, to keep her heart safe, she couldn't handle loosing anyone else.

But something about you made her want to stay, something about you made her want to get to know you better, to open up her heart to you.

"Supplies, huh? Tell you what," she said, standing and shouldering her gun. "You make that thing work, and I'll make sure nobody messes with you until then."

You blinked at her warily but curiously. "Why?"

Jinx shrugged, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. "Call it a hunch. You seem… fun."

————

That was the start. You didn't trust her that much at first—who would? Jinx was chaos in human form, a whirling dervish of energy and bad decisions that sane people crossed the street to avoid, not to mention a wanted crimial. But she kept her word. For weeks, she stuck around your jury-rigged workshop, chasing off the more common sorts of Zaunite pests.

And against your better judgment, you began to grow accustomed—and even attached—to her.

Jinx was actually good company when she wasn't blowing things up. She had a way of making you laugh, even when the transmitter refused to cooperate. Her stories—wild and half-believed—painted in the picture of a girl who hurt more often than she let on.

One night, with the both of you sitting on the rooftop of a crumbling building, she turned to you, her usual manic grin replaced by something softer.

"Why're you still here, anyway?" she asked. "Zaun's a dump. You could've gone topside ages ago."

You fumbled for words, gazing fixedly out across the glowing neon lights of the skyline. "Zaun's home," you said finally. "It's messy, yeah, but… it's mine. People up there wouldn't understand."

For once, Jinx didn't have a snappy comeback. She just nodded, the understanding in her eyes making your chest tighten.

————

Then came Isha.

Jinx had always been good at finding trouble, and it just so happens that a little girl fell on top of her while running away from bad men.

Jinx protected her, of course, the guys weren't even a match to her so it was incredibly easy. By the time the dust settled, the little girl was staring at her, wide-eyed and breathless.

"Yep, that's me." Jinx said as the two looked at the wanted posters of her, "You ever need to curse a sibling or a family or a society... my card." she said as she started walking away.

The little girl immediately followed her, trying her best to catch uo with her, her little eyes filled with amazement.

Soon Jinx was at your workshop with the little girl trailing behind her. You immediately noticed the two, raising your eyebrow as you glance between Jinx and the girl.

"She yours?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jinx shrugged. "I dunno. She just kinda started following meu."

You sigh, looking at the little girl then at Jinx. "Well, she's staying. She'll be safer with us."

Jinx didn't argue.

————

Months passed. The three of you became an odd little family, bound together by circumstance and something deeper that none of you could quite name.

You and Jinx spent your days scavenging and fixing whatever you could get your hands on, while Isha stood watch, her quiet presence a constant comfort, sometimes she would even help you two.

For the first time in a long while, Jinx felt something close to peace.

She would never admit to it, not even to herself, but she began to look forward to the moments when you'd smile at her, your laughter filling up the empty spaces in her mind. She loved the way Isha would hold onto her, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone anymore.

And then there was the way you looked at her.

Jinx had seen a lot of things in her life, but she'd never seen anyone look at her the way you did. Like she was more than just a ticking time bomb. Like she was worth something.

It scared her.

But it also made her want to be better. For you.

————

It was one of those nights when the city weighed heavier than usual. You were tinkering with a new device that aimed to channel Zaun's toxic air into something breathable. Jinx sat beside you, mimicking your actions but with one of her bombs instead as Isha layed her head in Jinxs lap sound asleep.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked her, looking up to look at her.

Jinx froze, her fingers mid-twist. "What, like… Zaun?"

You nodded, not looking at her. "Yeah, starting over somewhere else. Somewhere quiet."

For a moment, she didn't know what to say. The idea of leaving Zaun had never crossed her mind. This place was her hell, but it was also her home.

But then she looked at you, at the way the dim light caught the curve of your face, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, there could be something more.

"I dunno," she said finally, her voice quieter than usual. "Maybe."

You turned to her, your expression soft but searching. "If you ever wanted to… I'd go with you, Isha would too."

Jinx's heart stuttered in her chest. She looked away, trying to mask the way her cheeks flushed. She looked down at Ishas sleeping form, her hands playing with the young girls fluffy hair.

"Yeah, well," she muttered, "don't go making promises you can't keep, alright?"

But the way you smiled at her made her wonder if you meant it.

————

The world didn't change overnight. It never does. But for Jinx, it didn't need to.

She had you. She had Isha.

And for the first time in her life, she thought that might just be enough.

Because when she looked at you, she saw something she never thought she'd have.

Home.

And that was worth living for.

[c0n-fus3d]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 3 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 4.0k (i know)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), much cussing, some adult themes (again, no smut y'all), bkg and reader go through one stage of grief: bargaining, the plot thickens!

a/n. wrote all this in one day—i couldn't put the doc down until i finished it. this chapter is jam-packed and has lots going on, but we're only at the beginning. i hope you have as much fun reading it as i did writing it!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

“…Though I trust you’ll understand if we set some—” he pauses, and you’re 99% sure it’s for dramatic effect, “—precautionary measures in place?”

“Waddya have in mind?” asks Bakugou, his rough tone laced with unmistakable skepticism.

“Well, for starters…”

Their leader glances back at the bionic woman. “Sayaka, are they ready?”

Sayaka nods. “Ready for installation, Masaki-san.”

You scramble to take a mental note of their names—as well as try to ignore the fact that the robotic girl sounds like a robot, too—as you watch Masaki gesture to the escort from earlier who’s standing at the sides and in the shadows.

He emerges into the dim lights with a wide stride, but to your surprise, another leg steps forward right beside him. Your eyes trail up until they land on the other person, widening in confusion because they look just like a carbon copy of the intimidating escort—tall, ginger head, pale skin—only it’s a girl.

There’s no mistaking it.

They’re twins.

Twin bodyguards. In a quirk supremacist group.

You fight the urge to let out a dry laugh.

But apparently, neither of the two finds the situation funny, because they’re nothing but serious as they approach Masaki and bow politely, before heading to Sayaka and taking what looks like tiny…metal pieces?

You don’t get the opportunity to wonder about what those were, though, because, in the blink of an eye, the twins are already stalking straight toward you and Bakugou, glaring daggers.

“Those are bugs,” Masaki explains just as the twins arrive right in front of you, with the guy from earlier towering over Bakugou and the female staring you down a few inches away from your face, decidedly a little too close for comfort. You barely manage to stop yourself from gulping and looking away.

“They’ll be tracking your speech and movements 24/7. And don’t worry, they’re waterproof.”

You sense Bakugou’s about to spit some smart-ass comment, judging by the way he puffs up like he tends to do when he’s about to drop a curse-riddled quip, but he doesn’t get the chance to deliver the blow because the twins are on you in an instant.

You accidentally let out a yelp as the woman grabs the hem of your tank top so roughly you think it’s gonna tear, before she stuffs her right hand up. Mortified, you struggle against her hold, but her left has a death grip on you.

“Relax,” she seethes, obviously very much already done with you. “I’m just installing it.”

At her words, you manually will yourself to calm down, and it quickly dawns on you that she’s not touching you violently or inappropriately. You tamp down a shiver as her cold fingers come into contact with the center of your chest, right at the dip of your bra and between your breasts, feeling the surface before sticking something that you promptly identify as the tracker.

And as she retracts her hand and steps away from you, right at the same time as her twin like they’re wired for synchrony, you reflect on how it’s so light that you barely feel an added weight to your body. It’s circular, too, and you debate for a second whether or not to peer down at your chest to see what it really looks like, before ultimately deciding against it.

You can do that later, in the privacy of the (hopefully not downstairs) bathroom.

If such a concept even exists.

“Thanks, you two,” comes Masaki’s gentle voice, before shifting to regard you and Bakugou. “You can get to know your designated guards later on, but for now, let’s continue.”

As if on cue, the twins take a further step back before eventually returning to their dark corner.

“What we just affixed on your chests are special devices, again, designed to monitor any sound you make as well as your specific locations. They’re not your ordinarily engineered trackers—they’re Sayaka’s thanks to her quirk—which also allows her to directly receive the feedback and project it for others to see and hear.”

Ah.

You don’t know how that works exactly, but you bet the expensive ass perfume that you got for your birthday last year—the very one you wear for special occasions like now—that it’s got something to do with her robotic parts.

“Does everyone in your group get one, too?” questions Bakugou, who’s now looking a bit miffed. You’re sure he didn’t enjoy getting felt up by a stranger who he just called someone’s little lackey.

“Only the new members,” Sayaka answers succinctly, her voice sounding like it’s filtered with autotune.

But especially you two, you finish for her in your head. And really, you can’t blame them. Taking in a pro-hero, let alone Japan’s #2, is a huge gamble, and Bakugou quite literally can make or break their whole plan to attack. This level of precaution is not at all uncalled for. You’d even go so far as to say it’s not enough.

Bakugou must be thinking the same thing, too, because he doesn’t offer a follow-up question.

Masaki takes your silence as a sign for him to go on.

“Of course, that’s only the first layer of protection.”

Shit.

You hope you didn’t just think that into existence.

The plain-looking leader puts on that prudent smile of his, before turning to look at the old man. “Kouki-san here has a very handy quirk. Teleportation,” he glances at Bakugou, “A sought-after power in the hero world, isn’t it?”

Bakugou shrugs, although you’re guessing the answer is yes and that he’s just too stubborn to admit it.

Figures.

“Well, he’s gone and mastered his quirk, and has since been indispensable to our organization. Essentially—” Masaki huffs, like he’s preparing for the bomb he’s about to drop, “—the very moment you even hint at betraying us, we’re gone,” he snaps his fingers, “Just like that. And you won’t be able to trace us.”

“Really?” drawls Bakugou. “You’ll abandon this cushy, not at all seedy ass headquarters of yours?”

“This is only one of many, Dynamight,” Masaki responds, seemingly unbothered by Bakugou’s taunt. “And this is actually not our headquarters.”

He picks up his glass of alcohol and lightly twirls it around in his hand. “I also trust that you’re aware of what a distinguished group such as ours entails? Naturally, we need to have somewhere safe where we can conduct all our activities under the radar.”

“As you can imagine, it’s not just us five. We have many, many members who share the same principles, and this club can’t possibly be large enough to host all of us.”

“Where are you going with this?” Bakugou demands.

“What I’m saying is that we have a separate place as our headquarters, a place much bigger than this. And—” he cocks his head toward Kouki, “—we get there via teleportation.”

“Obviously,” sneers Bakugou, “Otherwise that’d be a huge waste of the old man’s quirk, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but that’s only one of the reasons. You see, it’s also so that you won’t know where it is located,” Masaki pauses once again, which you decide in a split second is warranted because of what he’s going to say next.

“And for that to work, we’re also going to have to lock you inside.”

Your breath hitches. Bakugou bristles.

“The fu—”

“We’re going to have to make you stay with us—” the plain-looking man interjects with a slightly louder voice, “—at least until the day of the attack, as we cannot risk you two being seen constantly going in and out of this club every night.”

You’re about to contribute to the conversation for the very first time but Bakugou beats you to it. “Fucking stay in? Isn’t that gonna cause even more suspicion?”

“It wouldn’t if you both come up with a good excuse to disappear,” Kouki retorts with a smidge of attitude. He eyes Bakugou with a raised brow, “Wouldn’t now be a great time to have a top-secret ‘mission’ overseas? And I’m sure your friend here can whip something up.”

You brush off the annoyance that shoots through you at the dismissive mention. Instead, you finally bring yourself to speak up. “I thought you just said we’ll be stuffed in a secret hideout?”

“Ah,” Masaki sounds out, “You are, but this is our gateway, so to speak. You go here to get teleported to the headquarters, and from there, get teleported back here to return to the outside world. We won’t hesitate to teleport away from both places the second we have to, but that doesn’t mean our HQ is easily disposable to us, hence all these measures.”

“All this to say,” he furthers, his timid tone juxtaposing the threatening words you’re sure he’s about to utter, “You two better think twice about betraying us.”

There it is.

He smiles again. “Do either of you have any questions?”

Beside you, Bakugou mutters to himself for a second, before clearing his throat. “You’re yapping on and on about what you’ll do if we betray you and shit. Ain’t that such a warm welcome for your new members?”

—A rhetorical question, because he doesn’t let anyone get a word in. Instead, he presses on.

“But what if we don’t? What’s in it for us?”

“You get to live out your ideals, boy,” comes the old geezer’s snappy reply.

Bakugou snorts, and you’re sure it’s not because he found the guy hilarious.

“That’s a shitty deal on our end, don’t ya think so?” the pro-hero shifts his weight on his other foot. “How ‘bout this, you guarantee protection for my…friend here, and we’re even.”

You hold your breath.

Looking past the way he just so awkwardly referred to you as his friend, that segue just now wasn’t exactly the smoothest.

Still, you have no choice but to roll with it. So, with much conviction, you morph your face into that of shyness—one that you hope is charming enough to win their graces.

“Just her?” asks Masaki, placid as ever.

“I can get by,” comes Bakugou’s confident response.

Once again ignoring the mildly degrading remark, you ready yourself to use your quirk. You closely examine the leader’s features as they transform into an expression of contemplation, even as he turns to the other two and engages them in quiet conversation.

You and Bakugou stand there for a few moments, waiting, before Masaki finally turns again.

And all that preparing to utilize your quirk goes out of the dilapidated windows once you catch a glimpse of his face.

“I guess that’s settled, then.”

Called it.

Masaki then raises an eyebrow at the two of you. “Any more concerns?” he smiles to himself, “Heartwarming requests?”

Neither of you says anything.

“None?” he asks again, before patting his thighs in a gesture of finality. “Well, then, I believe it’s time for you to see your new home! Kouki-san?”

At the mention, the old man slowly gets up from where he made himself very comfortable on the couch, and walks leisurely towards you, planting himself in front of and between you and Bakugou.

“Hang tight,” Kouki smirks, reaching out for both of your hands, and you’re just about registering how eerily cool his are when the ground that was perfectly carpeted and steady just a second ago suddenly collapses from beneath you.

A violent wave of nausea instantly hits you as the room completely vanishes before you, replaced by pitch-black darkness in a second. You scramble for purchase—tightening your grip on the person responsible for whatever the fuck this is—as the noise instantaneously gets sucked in a vacuum, leaving you in full silence. Your legs are jelly as you stumble on your feet, and you’re convinced you’re going to fall to your death down to the abyss below you when—just as fast as the lounge disappeared—a warmly lit hallway materializes in front of you.

But it’s too late, you’re already out of balance and lurching forward—inch by excruciating inch—right until you feel a hand grab your forearm and you’re unceremoniously yanked back into an upright position.

You whip to look at Bakugou as you wobble on your feet, and he’s staring at you with such alarm that makes you feel so…vulnerable. He retracts his left hand a beat later when you eventually steady yourself, his serious and unrelenting gaze fixated on you before shifting to study the place you just got teleported to.

You follow suit, eyeing the hallway as you place the hand Kouki was holding into your pocket to warm it up.

Similar to the club and the room you were just in, the area is barely illuminated, but it’s bright enough for you to make out the dark wooden doors that line both sides. You’re right in the middle of the hallway, and at one of the ends you think are staircases leading both to a lower and an upper level, while at the other end is another door.

If these lead to what you think they lead…

Then, damn.

They weren’t kidding about lodging.

From the corner of your eye, you see the old man look at you and follow your line of vision, shifting to study the aforementioned door at the end of this hallway.

“That’s your room,” he offers curtly, like this job of chaperoning you to your place of residence for who knows how many days is beneath him.

Room, you parrot in your head.

Room singular.

“Well?” he asks, not even bothering to hide his impatience when neither you nor Bakugou makes a move. “Aren’t you going to check it out?”

You hesitate, glancing at Bakugou to find him frowning at Kouki, before turning to look at you.

“We don’t have all day, you two,” Kouki adds on with a sigh at the same time you raise your eyebrows ever so minutely at the pro-hero, as if asking for confirmation. “Go on, I’ll wait here.”

It only takes a small nod from Bakugou to pull you out of the paralysis, and the minute that he does, you’re already moving to the spot beside him, matching his pace as you trudge towards the door.

As inconspicuously as you can, you check the corners of the room along the wall facing you for cameras, only to find none.

And so you do it.

With your backs turned against the Teleportation master, you finally let your emotions show on your face.

You also chance a peek at Bakugou, only to find him already eyeing you with the very same expression you’re sure is written all over your features.

The one that says you’re fucked.

You don’t get to dwell or comment on the shared sentiment, though, mainly because they’ll hear every word you say, but also because you arrive in front of the door. Bakugou looks at the knob and then at you warily, and you can only nod in encouragement.

That seems to be enough of a push for him, because he reaches for and turns the handle, pushing past the entryway so you can walk in from behind him.

Now, the first thing that registers after you startle at the door closing is the fact that the room is small. Tiny, even. There’s another door at the back, which you think leads to the comfort room.

But that’s pretty much it.

That, and there’s only one bed.

To your credit, though, you’re able to refrain from gasping in horror at the sight of it, which you can chalk up to the next thing that you see—a couch.

It doesn’t seem like it’s foldable or can be converted into a larger bunk, but it’ll have to do. It’s brown and hopefully real leather this time, and is crammed right next to the bed. You remind yourself that they were only expecting Bakugou, and so you can’t really complain and that you’ll have to make do with sleeping on the couch for the next n days.

Aside from all those, though, the room is relatively bare.

Well, apart from the cameras with the blinking red light at the upper, four corners of it.

But you don’t get to wordlessly warn him about it, let alone come to terms with the fact that they’re deadass going to be watching your every single move, because something seizes your wrist, spinning you around, leaving you face to face with Bakugou.

You’re too preoccupied with the sudden motion and the fact that you’re just a breadth’s width away from each other to notice the darkened look in his eyes.

Which, in hindsight, you should’ve noticed.

If you wanted any chance at bracing yourself for what he’s going to do next.

“Wha—”

You yelp—cutting yourself off—when Bakugou, the Bakugou Katsuki—Japan’s #2 Pro-hero, Vogue Japan’s Hottest Bachelor of the Year, and the dickhead who used to be your biggest, fattest crush—grabs at your neck and smashes his lips against yours.

You involuntarily jerk away from him, but his free hand shoots up to roughly clutch your hip just as his grip on your neck tightens, pinning you in place and right against him.

And you don’t know how the fuck it happens, but he does something with his tongue, or his mouth? His teeth? You don’t know at this point, and frankly, you don’t want to know, because coupled with his scalding hold on your body, it causes you to do the unthinkable.

You moan.

And again, you don’t even get the opportunity to feel the utter humiliation, because just as quickly as he pounced on you, Bakugou pulls away, but not before scowling at the cameras as if he just noticed them—which you doubt—then taking your hand, dragging you out of the door and into the hallway.

The old man glances at you. “Are you don—”

“Take us the fuck back now,” Bakugou spits as he pulls you right beside him.

At that, Kouki’s eyebrows furrow. “You ought to know better than to speak to an elderly like that.”

But the man who just fucking kissed you apparently can’t give a single flying fuck, because he retorts without missing a beat. “Take us back now.”

That must’ve been the final straw, because Kouki’s face finally morphs into the scowl that you think he’s been trying to suppress this entire time, but to your surprise, he moves closer to the two of you and once again, reaches for your hands.

You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but what you do know is that Bakugou’s onto something here, because he wouldn’t have pulled that stunt just now without any reason, which means the last thing you should do is resist.

And so you take Kouki’s hand, just as Bakugou snags the other, and when you do, the floor gives out from underneath you.

You’re still overcome with a sense of dizziness as your surroundings shift and the noise dissipates around you, but as you find the lounge slowly appearing before your eyes, you find that it’s not as bad the second time.

Bakugou’s still holding your hand when you arrive at the second floor of the club, right back where you stood from a while ago.

Sayaka is the first one to notice you, most likely thanks to her quirk and the goddamn device stuck to your chest, but it’s Masaki who speaks up when he catches wind of your arrival.

He puts down the deck of cards you think he’s just been shuffling before shifting to look at you. “Back so soon?”

Kouki turns around to face him, “Bakugou demanded to—”

“Why the fuck are there cameras in our room?”

Offended, the old man whips around again to glower at Bakugou, seemingly ready to unleash the sermon of the century. “Young man—”

“Turn them the fuck off,” the pro-hero interjects, “And the mics, too.”

Bakugou hesitates, as if unsure of how to properly say the next few words. He glances at you, expression inexplicable, before turning back to face them. “…At least at night.”

Silence.

“Oooh, I see where this is going,” comes Masaki’s reaction a moment later, a knowing smile creeping on his face. You feel yourself flame. “You weren’t being clear with us earlier, Bakugou. You didn’t say you brought your girlfriend.”

“Didn’t think it was necessary to point out,” comes Bakugou’s terse reply.

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid it doesn’t matter either way. The surveillance is for our safety, which comes above everything else, even the privacy of our esteemed members.”

“You promised you’d protect her at all costs,” Bakugou counters. “Protecting her modesty from the perverts you call your surveillance people is part of that.”

Now, you’re not a hundred percent certain, but you’re pretty sure he just shot the cyborg a look at the latter half of the sentence, which you think would’ve been a noble gesture—if it weren’t for the fact that it’s not just her, judging by the sheer number of cameras in this room alone.

Your attention drifts back to Masaki, however, when he heaves a sigh, leaning against the couch with a tired expression on his face. “Tell me, then, Dynamight. How do you propose we make sure you don’t brew something behind our backs off surveillance?”

“I can turn off the bugs,” Sayaka pipes up before Bakugou can answer, her mechanical voice drifting across the room. “They emit a blue light at their circumference that shuts down when I turn the device off.”

“As for the cameras…” she drones on, “The blinking red light should be gone when they’re offline.”

“That shit won’t do,” Bakugou declares decisively, not even letting the suggestion simmer. “There’s no knowing for sure that they’re actually off and aren’t just hacked to seem like they are.”

“The cameras should also face down. And—” he huffs, “—We get to remove the tracker.”

A chorus of protests erupts from the group—particularly from Sayaka and Kouki—but even the twins who are still stationed at the sides. Masaki, in contrast, only sits in silence as he studies the pro-hero, but there’s no missing the uneasiness decorating his features.

“It’s only at night,” Bakugou reasons, voice now a bit louder to be heard amidst the sea of complaints. “You can set up guards around the perimeters of our room. We’ll surrender them at the door before entering, and we can’t go out beyond the doorway until they’re attached again.”

And when no one says anything, Bakugou pushes. “How does that sound?”

You chance a glance at Masaki, who does not seem to be getting anywhere near convinced.

Bakugou must be noticing it, too, because he squeezes your hand so imperceptibly that you almost miss it.

But you don’t, and quite honestly, you could have and be okay with having done so, because you were on it, anyway.

You quickly scan the room.

One, two, three, four, five.

Five.

You can do five.

And so with the most innocent tone you can muster, you speak up.

“That sounds reasonable to me.”

All five whip to look at you, and the second that they do, you pull—swiftly and in succession—eyes jumping from Sayaka to Kouki to Masaki to the male twin and then to the girl.

Your gaze darts back to the leader right after to make sure you got him, but his remarkably serene countenance is enough to tell you that you’ve successfully done it.

You did it.

You just won Bakugou and you the window of time to discuss the mission in the privacy of your own room.

And Bakugou must be seeing the palpable shift in their demeanors because he squeezes your hand once more, only this time you think it’s in gratitude.

You feel a surge of pride swell in your chest.

Let the games begin.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day

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[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 3

pairing: you x drew starkey

The night Drew came back from his so-called “night out with the boys”, the tension was thick in the apartment. The sound of the front door creaking open felt like a bomb going off. You had been sitting on the couch for the last hour, alternatives between staring at your phone and looking out the window, hoping that something – anything – would make the ache in your chest fade. But the pain only deepened, and as the door clicked closed behind him, your stomach churned in a mix for dread and anger.

Drew walked in, his usual confident stride slowing when he saw you sitting there. There was a slight hesitation in his step, a quiet sign that he knew something was off. His eyes immediately darted to you, a mix of concern and something else that you couldn’t quite read. But the moment he stepped further into the room, your frustration broke free.

You didn’t even give him a chance to greet you, the words spilling out before he could say a word. “You’re late,” you said, your voice flat but filled with an edge he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Drew stopped in his tracks, glancing at his watch. “I told you, it was just a night out with the guys. Nothing big.” He said, his tone light, almost too casual. But you saw right through it. His words didn’t feel genuine anymore. You had heard the excuses before, and they were getting old.

You stood up, not wanting to be so passive about it anymore. “A night out with the guys? Really? That’s what you’re going with?” The bitterness in your voice caught you off guard, but there was no going back now.

Drew looked taken aback by the sharpness in your voice. “What’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you saw those photos.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to contain the words that had been bubbling up inside for days. “Yeah, I saw the photos, Drew. You and Odessa. Out in public again. Walking around like everything is fine. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“No. Don’t you dare try to explain it away. I’m not stupid. I can see exactly what’s going on.” You could feel the anger rising in your chest, a mix of hurt and frustration that you couldn’t keep bottled up any longer. “You’re out with her, looking all cozy, like she’s the one you want. Not me. And I just … I don’t get it. You told me it was all fake, just for the cameras, but I can’t keep pretending that I believe you.”

Drew’s face hardened, and the disappointment in his eyes stung more than anything. He took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his cool, but you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making something out of nothing. It’s just part of the job, I swear. She’s just a co-star, and this is all for publicity. You know that. I thought you understood that.”

“Understand?” you laughed bitterly, but the sound came out more like a sob. “You think I understand? You think I’m supposed to just sit here and watch you with her while pretending like everything is fine? No, Drew. I can’t do that. I can’t keep pretending that this isn’t hurting me. That I’m not losing you, piece by piece.”

Drew stepped closer to you, his expression softening as if trying to reach you, but you were too far gone. Too far past the point of no return.

“I’m trying okay?” His voice cracked slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was being honest, but it didn’t change anything. “I’m trying to make this work, but this whole thing is a mess. I never wanted it to be like this.”

You shook your head, feeling the sting of his words like a slap across your face. “Make it work? How do you expect me to trust you when I see you out there with her, smiling like nothing’s wrong? How do you expect me to keep believing you when I know that every word you’ve said about us was just...  just a lie?”

Drew’s face darkened at your accusation, his voice rising as the frustration that had been simmering inside him for days boiled over. “I’m not lying to you, Y/N! I never wanted this to happen either, but this is the way things are right now. I’m doing what I have to do, for both of us.”

“For both of us?” you scoffed, the tears that had been building in your eyes finally breaking free. “This is for you, Drew. It’s always been for you. For your career, for your image. And I’m just supposed to sit here and be okay with it? You’re asking me to pretend like I’m okay with being second to her, to everything you’re doing for the cameras. You know what, Drew? I can’t do that anymore. I’m done pretending.”

There was a long, tense silence between you, both of you staring at each other as if trying to make sense of the chaos you had created. Drew ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained but you were beyond caring. You had tried so hard to hold on, to believe him and in what you had, but every day felt like a betrayal.

You stepped back, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t trust you anymore, Drew. Not after everything. You’ve lied to me over and over, and I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m not going to keep living in this lie, this lie that both of you have created for the world.”

Drew looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he just closed his eyes, the weight of your words crashing over him. He didn’t speak for a long moment, and for the first time, you realized he was just as lost as you were. But that didn’t change the fact it was too late.

Without another word, you grabbed your jacket, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that apartment with him. Not like this. You needed space, you needed to breathe.

You walked the streets aimlessly, tears still wet on your cheeks as the cold air bit at your skin. Every step felt like a weight, each one dragging you further from the man you thought you knew. The city lights flickered in the distance, but they did nothing to brighten the darkness in your heart.

You didn’t even know how far you had walked until you found yourself standing in front of a quiet park by the water. The silence felt both comforting and unbearable, as if the world around you had completely disappeared. You collapsed onto a bench, hugging your arms to your chest to stave off the cold, but it did little to ease the storm inside of you.

The moments from earlier replayed in your mind – the fight, Drew’s words, your own pain – and all you could do was sit there and feel the weight of it all.

That’s when the flash of camera lights caught your attention.

At first, you didn’t react, too numb to care about the photographers who had followed you. But then, the flashes intensified. You wiped your face quickly, but it didn’t stop them. The tears you had tried to hide were now on full display, and you felt like your privacy, your pain was being exposed to the world.

“Y/N! Over here! A little smile for us!” A photographer called out, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength to smile, not when everything felt so broken.

Your heart thudded in your chest as more flashes went off, capturing the raw emotion on your face – the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion. You could hear their voices, the jarring sound of camera clicks, as they shouted for you to look at the camera. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to perform for them. Not anymore.

You turned away, trying to escape their prying eyes, but you knew it was futile. The pictures will be everywhere tomorrow. The world would see you in this vulnerable state, and it felt like another punch to the gut.

You couldn’t stop the tears now. You couldn’t stop the feeling of being exposed, of being broke, of being so utterly alone in a world that seemed to move on without you.

A/N: please don’t hate me LOL😭

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @esquivelbianca @josephandrewstarkey @willowpains @wtfdudesblog @purplerose291

[sugarushwriting]

exotic dancer lee minho x reader

you just ended a relationship, your friends try to cheer you up

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

too lazy to proof read sorry

“come on it’ll be fun!”

“momo, you’re talking about male strippers!”

“ah ah, exotic dancers!” momo tsked.

momo and your three other friends dragged you into the strip club where the exotic male dancers were.

background context: you were just dumped by your fiancé of 6 months, who claimed he didn’t love you or wanted to be with you.

you both had dated on and off for 3 years, before he finally proposed 6 months ago. turns out he felt pressured and didn’t want to actually be with you anymore.

3 days ago you found him out in public with his new girlfriend. who yunjin did some digging on, and found your ex had been seeing her for 3 months.

while you two were engaged to be married.

it hurt you. you tried so hard to act like it didn’t, because truth be told, you weren’t actually happy with him. you also felt pressure and the need to be married.

you were in your late twenties, the only thing you had were your career and cats. although that was enough to you, it wasn’t enough for your parents. it wasn’t necessarily that they wanted grandkids, but someone who would take care of you once they pass on.

although you were independent, your parents didn’t want to see you grow old and alone.

inside, the club was all dark lights, poles galore, and shirtless men even more.

before taking a seat, you all stopped by the bar to grab drinks.

you weren’t complaining about the view, it’s just something you weren’t used to—or ever did.

“what am i supposed to do?” you asked lost, looking around.

momo led you and your friends to a booth, a pole and stage in the middle.

“relax, let the men dance for you, and tip!”

“do i touch them?”

“only if they invite you to.” momo winked.

you looked at the pamphlet on near the booth’s table, “it looks like this dancer’s name is, cat daddy?”

“mhm, he can be the daddy of my cat, any day.”

“sana, you don’t have a cat.”

“yes i do, and she’s purring right now.” sana laughed, mina, nayeon and momo joining in.

it took you a while to understand the innuendo, and you joined in the laughter, you all quickly quieting down when a man with cat ears came into view near the booth.

with a smirk, he bowed, his muscles showing off in the black sleeveless top he had on, and the tight black pants showing his strong thighs.

“i’m cat daddy, how can i help you beautiful ladies this evening?”

sana and mina fanned themselves, momo engaging in conversation with a pout, “our friend here just went through a terrible break up and could use a great distraction.” momo’s hands were on your shoulder to let the man know who it was.

“i’m sorry to hear that miss, but i can be of great service to distract you.”

“mhm, would you be a great service and give her a private dance? on me, of course, i’ll pay.” momo smirked, catching you off guard as your eyes went wide.

“mo—,” you went to say but she patted your bare thigh to get you to hush.

“of course, is the lady okay with that?” he turned to you, an eyebrow raised up. almost a little taunting or dare for you to say no.

“oh, yeah, i’m okay with that.” you replied.

with a smile, he grabbed your hand, your friends cheering in the back ground. the man led you in hand to the back, where many private rooms where, accompanied by a couple of guards by the main entrance.

“should i call you cat daddy? or is there another name i can use? or maybe you would like to know my name?” you rambled off. you ended up telling the man your name.

with a chuckle, he turned around to face you, a big smile plastered on his face. “i’ll all you kitten. fitting to my name, right?”

“i mean yeah—,”

“and you can just call me daddy.”

your eyes once again went wide, your body rigid at his words. not only your heart thumping in excitement, but also down south.

he pulled you into a vacant room, closing the door behind him, after turning the sign on the door, to say ‘occupied.’

he gestured for you to sit on the chair of the bed in the room.

you choose the bed as it looked the comfiest. “see, uh, i’ve never been at a place like this, so i don’t know what to do,” you rambled as you sat.

he never took his eyes off of you, like a predator stalking his prey.

you kept rambling, unaware of (or trying to ignore) him getting closer to you, soon his face right in front of yours, almost nose to nose.

“lay down kitten.”

“what—,”

you gasped when he forcefully laid you down, you suddenly sitting up on your forearms to look at him like he lost his damn mind.

that thought quickly went away, when he took off his shirt, almost teasingly, rolling his body as he did.

he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he stood in between them. grabbing your hands, he held them against his abs, your fingers scratching along, his head tilting back as he moaned lightly from your cold touch.

he guided your hands up to his chest, and around his neck, as he leaned down to your ear. “if you let me, i can make you forget and feel real good for whatever that ex of yours did.” he whispered, sending shivers down your body.

he leaned back to look you in your eyes, you lost in his. he looked so innocent with those eyes of his, but you had a feeling, deep down, he wasn’t so innocent when it came to bed activities.

you smirked, “as long as the ears stay on.”

he smiled back knowingly, “mhm, kitten, i knew you had a side to you that was masked by that innocent act.” he kissed your neck, and whispered, “call me minho.”

minho kissed you once, before his hands grabbed yours again, this time to his pants, wanting you to help him take them off.

you didn’t expect your girls day to turn into a girls night, let alone a night where you end up at an exotic male dancers strip club.

you didn’t expect tonight to become so entranced by a man you didn’t know, to want to know his secrets, wants, and find out why he chose this job or life.

you for sure didn’t expect to have helped a man undress, leaving on his cat ears, and he undressing you of your short skirt and top.

and lastly, you didn’t even think tonight would end up with you on your back, in said club, in a private room, having said man licking between your folds like it was his last day eating on earth.

“oh—oh my,” you gasped then moaned, your hand shooting to minho’s fluffy hair, your back arching off the bed.

his tongue worked between your folds, nose nudging your clit, fingers used to spread you more open for him.

minho hummed and moaned, quietly showing his appreciation for letting him between your thighs.

for the way he was making you feel, you wanted to thank him. ex definitely forgotten, your mind focused on minho’s tongue, the noises, and the grips his hands now had on your thighs to keep you open as you kept threatening to close the closer you got to coming on his tongue.

“minho, i’m—i’m,”

“i know kitten, let go for me, mhm?” he hummed kissing your clit, before his tongue burrowed deep in your opening, you soon becoming over sensitive.

“fuck!” you gasped out, hand gripped tight on minho’s hair, as you tried to calm your racing heart, your chest up and down.

minho kissed up your stomach, to your naked chest, deciding against overstimulating you. for now.

he licked one free nipple, then the other. he continued his way up to find your neck, his teeth latching the skin for a teasing bite.

minho sat up, knees on either side of you, you reached up to his calvin klein boxers, your fingers teasing the band. it sent chills through minho’s body, his dick becoming harder with the touch.

“don’t tease me, kitten.” he warned through a moan.

you smiled, taking out his dick from the tight black boxers, him hard and tip red, already leaking a bit of precome.

with a lick, you lightly brush led your tongue against his tip, before leaving a kiss. you pulled away, your thumb rubbing circles on the tip.

no hesitation, minho scooted closer as smoothly as he could with his boxers around his thighs, and shoved his dick in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with a gag.

you quickly adjusting yourself to his thickness, and grabbed minho’s ass in your hand as he did the work by rocking and rolling his hips against your mouth.

“that’s it baby, take all of me.” he moaned quietly, you getting wet by each second. you were ready for him to just ruin you between your legs. to leave his everlasting mark.

with spits of curses and moans, it didn’t take much longer until minho stilled and came in your mouth.

pulling out, some leaked from your lips, minho quickly running his tongue against the side of your lips before he kissed you, tongue forcing itself inbetween your lips, in your mouth.

spit mixing, sloppy and wet, minho slipped the boxers off of his thighs, never detaching his lips from yours. he laid over you, his tip teasing your folds and clit.

you bit his bottom lip, tugging it between your teeth. “ruin me. distract me more.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, as minho plunged his dick into you, no waiting for adjustment.

you let out a gasp at the intrusion, but the gasp was of pleasure, and minho hummed, loving the sounds from your lips.

“i’ll make you forget all about past men you thought could please you, kitten.” minho rolled his hips, to aim deeply into you as much as he could. he wanted to be slow first.

the way he rolled his hips, and whenever he did, hit the right spot in you.

“minho,” you squealed, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“mhm that’s it kitten, scream my name. minho—daddy, will make you forget all about those pathetic excuses of past mistakes.”

you could speak, so you just nodded. eyes closed, as tears threatened to spill at how good he was making you feel.

minho suddenly changed his pace from slow to rough. his hips snapping back before forward, your thighs wrapped around him, thigh on thigh skin slapping.

minho pulled out, getting off the bed, before he tugged you along with him.

you brain was gone dumb, as he guided you to the chair, you gripped one of the arms of the chair, minho lifted your right leg to rest on the chair as the other stayed flat on the floor.

minho plunged into you from behind, the new angle, literally causing your own pussy to squeal along with you. you gasped, mouth wide open, as minho rocked his hips from behind you, fucking into you from behind. cheeks clapping, his hand wrapped around your throat, his veins on display, as his index finger forced its way into your mouth.

you sucked on his finger, his pace never faltering, you felt your pussy leaking from all the wetness coming from you.

his other hand snuck around your body, so two of his fingers could start adding pressure to your clit, sending you to the edge.

you didn’t mean to, but you slightly bit his finger, before screaming out his name. “minho!”

your brain and mind really turned to mush, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your vision going dark.

you came hard around his dick, sure leaving a ring of white around the base.

but minho’s thrusts became rougher and sloppier, as he chased his own. he was finally overstimulating you into oblivion and submission.

one of your hand gripped the chair’s arm tightly, the other gripping minho’s forearm, he gripped your chin so your head rested against his chest, your eyes facing him the best to your ability.

your body was in a position you didn’t know was possible, back arched so much, minho loved the sight in front of him.

he loved watching his dick disappear between your folds, your ass hitting perfectly against his hips.

with one last thrust, minho grunted, pulling out to leave his come on your backside. thick and warm, he breathed heavily, as if he ran a marathon. you nearly collapsed on the chair, but minho caught you to help you back to the bed, placing you on the bed.

he grabbed some wet wipes that were placed on a table in the room (next to the condoms you both ignored) and wiped his come off of you, and wiping between your thighs gently before he cleaned up himself.

“how, how am i supposed to walk out there like nothing happened?” you groaned out, struggling to sit up.

minho laughed, “you don’t, you do the walk of shame.”

“there was nothing shameful about that.” you grinned. “other than maybe fucking in a club.” you rolled on your back, laid out.

no time to rethink life choices or reminisce about what just happened.

you had to first put your clothes (and find your underwear), then think of how to exit while steady on your feet.

it wasn’t that you were in pain, but more so still over stimulated losing feeling in your legs.

“there’s an exit out back. you can tell your friends to pick you up there if you want to avoid lookers.”

you nodded. “best idea.”

minho, back dressed, cat ears still on, he walked out to find your friends. you quickly dressed, still not finding your underwear, but did your best to look presentable.

minho walked back to the private room. “they’ll meet you out back with a rideshare. is your place far?”

you shook your head, “we rented a hotel a block away. we live about 2 hours away from here.”

“different city to avoid people you may know?”

you nodded shyly. “yeah.”

minho walked closer to help you stand up, “kind of disappointing you live so far from me kitten. i would have loved to see you again.”

you felt hot, nearly blushing. “um, you don’t need to sweet talk me. you made me feel better and distract me.”

minho’s finger went to your chin, you lift your head up to look into his eyes, “kitten, if you think i do what i just did with you, with anyone, you’re mistaken.”

he kissed your lips tenderly. “why me?” you whispered.

minho shrugged. “honestly don’t know.” he smiled when you initiated a kiss this time. “promise to come see me, again?”

“mhm, maybe.” you teased. minho gripped your hips, and you chuckled, “okay, yes, i will.”

“good. especially since i know you’ll want your blue underwear back.”

[synsacra]

SNEAKING OUT OF HEAVEN

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

contents: smut, unprotected piv, mostly soft sanji bro is infatuated with u, creampie, face sitting, praise, lots of pet names in french (chérie, ange, cœur), multiple rounds kinda, strangers to lovers :3

words: 3.2k

a/n: i took french for 5 years in school so if any of it's wrong im blaming my french teacher. title has nothing to do with fic i just like the song anyways enjoy

The salty ocean breeze drifts through the open windows of the Baratie, blending with the mouthwatering aroma of seafood. You’re seated at a table nestled in the corner of the restaurant, absentmindedly fiddling with the napkin in your lap while trying to mask your growing boredom. Across from you, your date rambles on, loudly recounting his so-called “pirate adventures.” His voice is grating, and his over-the-top stories–clearly designed to impress–fall flat.

You nod every now and then, pretending to listen, but your eyes keep darting toward the exit. At least the lively atmosphere of the restaurant and the view of the ocean offer some small comfort.

And then, you see him: your waiter, Sanji.

Tall, elegant, and poised, he strides across the room with an unmatched confidence. His sharp black suit hugs his frame perfectly, and his blond hair falls effortlessly over his left eye as he gracefully balances a tray of dishes. He flashes a flirtatious smile at a woman's table as he delivers her food.

When his gaze meets yours, something shifts. Maybe it’s the silent plea in your eyes or the barely concealed discomfort on your face. Whatever it is, Sanji seems to notice instantly. His smile changes–understanding–and he adjusts the cuff of his sleeve before he approaches your table.

“Good evening, madam, sir,” he says smoothly, bowing politely. His voice is rich and warm, laced with just enough charm to turn heads. “I trust everything is to your liking?”

Your date barely spares him a glance, brushing him off with a dismissive wave. “Yeah, yeah, the food’s fine. Not as good as the stuff I’ve had at restaurants in the Grand Line, though.”

Sanji doesn’t react to the slight, his focus instead shifting to you. His attention feels so direct that it’s as though no one else exists. “And you, mademoiselle?” he asks, his tone softening. “Are you enjoying your evening? If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, just say the word.”

There’s something unspoken in his words, an offer that doesn’t need explaining. Before you can answer, your date cuts in again. “She’s fine,” he says curtly, leaning back with a smug grin. “Right, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart? You grit your teeth behind a forced smile, but before you can let the moment pass, you seize the lifeline Sanji has so graciously offered you. “Actually,” you say, setting your napkin on the table, “I could use some fresh air. Could you point me to the deck?”

Sanji’s smile widens, a flicker of amusement lighting his eyes. “Of course. Allow me to escort you.” He extends a hand, and you take it gratefully, the touch of his skin against yours grounding you.

Without waiting for your date’s reaction, Sanji leads you through the bustling restaurant and onto the open deck. The cool night air hits you immediately, carrying the soothing rhythm of waves against the ship. The noise and chaos of the restaurant fade into the background.

“I had a feeling you might need rescuing,” Sanji says softly, leaning casually against the railing. His voice carries the kind of warmth that makes you feel at ease. “Forgive me if I overstepped.”

You laugh–an actual, genuine laugh that feels like a weight lifting off your chest. “Overstepped? Are you kidding? You saved me. That guy was unbearable.”

Sanji chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced flick. “I could tell. A beautiful woman like you deserves far better company.”

His words, though undeniably flirtatious, don’t feel forced or sleazy. There’s a sincerity to them that makes your shoulders relax.

“Thank you,” you say, meeting his gaze. “I really mean it. I didn’t know how to get out of that.”

He tips his head slightly, exhaling a soft plume of smoke that drifts into the night. “It’s my pleasure,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “No one should have to endure an evening like that.”

For a moment, the two of you stand there in comfortable silence, the gentle crash of waves filling the gaps. Sanji turns toward you, his eyes soft and thoughtful. “You know,” he says, his voice dipping lower, “you deserve to be treated like royalty. Let me show you how.”

His words linger in the air, and though they’re laced with charm, there’s an earnestness that makes your heart skip a beat. You feel a warm flush creep up your neck as you search his face, wondering if you dare to say yes.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” you ask softly.

Sanji’s smile deepens, slow and deliberate. “Let me take care of you. Anything you want, mademoiselle.”

The invitation is thrilling, and for the first time all evening, you feel alive. With a breathless nod, you accept. “Alright,” you say, heart pounding. “Show me.”

Sanji’s smile widens; he puts his cigarette out and offers you his arm. You wrap your fingers around his bicep, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his suit. Together, you make your way across the deck and up a narrow staircase.

His private quarters are cozy and inviting, a bed covered in blue pinstripe sheets and lighted by a singular lamp. Sanji guides you inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The room is filled with the faint scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke.

He turns to face you, his eyes darkening with desire. “Why don’t you take off your clothes for me, chérie,” he says gently. “Let me see you.”

You hesitate for only a moment before reaching for the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head, and tossing it aside. Your bra follows, the cool air dancing across your sensitive nipples as they harden in response. You kick off your heels quickly, leaving you standing in nothing but your underwear.

Sanji's eyes trail over you, slow and deliberate, leaving you feeling both exposed and a little self-conscious. He steps closer, his voice soft but full of warmth. "Tu es tellement belle…" he says, his breath mingling with yours. "Absolutely breathtaking."

His fingers trace the contours of your body with adoration, caressing every curve. Sanji leans in, his lips brushing against your neck as he murmurs, "Thank you for blessing me with this sight, mon ange." His touch ignites a trail of goosebumps across your skin. He trails feather-light kisses along your collarbone, then down to the swell of your breasts.

Sanji cups one in his palm, thumb circling your nipple until it pebbles beneath his touch. He lowers his head, capturing the sensitive bud between his lips, suckling gently. A jolt of pleasure shoots through you at the sensation. You arch into him with a soft moan.

Sanji releases your tit from his mouth, a glistening thread of saliva stretching between the damp peak of your nipple and the tip of his tongue before breaking. “Tell me what you want,” He sighs, “I’ll fulfill any request of yours.” 

"I want..." You trail off, your breath catching as Sanji's fingers dance across your sensitive skin. "I want you to make me feel good."

A knowing smirk curves his lips. "And how might I do that, mon ange? Tell me." He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, stirring the heat building between your legs.

You gasp at the sensation. "Sanji… touch me more."

He obliges, large hands smoothing over your thighs before one hand slides higher to cup your cunt possessively. His thumb finds your clothed clit and presses against it softly. He rubs slow circles around it, applying gentle pressure that has you biting your lip to hold back a moan.

"Like this?" he purrs.

You nod quickly, toes curling in anticipation. Sanji's eyes darken with lust as he watches you squirm under his touch. "You're so responsive," he mumbles approvingly. His ministrations become firmer, more insistent - working your aching nub until you're panting and arching into his hand needily.

With a sly grin, Sanji suddenly withdraws his hand, leaving you whimpering in protest. But before you can complain, he's falling back on the bed and pulling you on top of him. He grasps your hips and pulls you upwards, positioning you above his face. "Time for a change of pace," he whispers, his breath fanning over your skin.

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you realize what he's planning. But Sanji's hands are firm, guiding you into place. As he tugs your panties down to your knees, you instinctively help him, wriggling them the rest of the way down your legs. Your cunt is now poised above Sanji's face, and the feeling of his warm breath sends a thrill through you.

Sanji's eyes lock onto yours from below you. "Sit down, mon ange," he coaxes. "Let me taste you."

Your heart races as you slowly lower yourself onto his face. The moment his tongue touches you, you let out a strangled moan. Sanji's tongue moves with deliberate strokes, exploring every inch of your sopping pussy. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, sending shivers through your body as he laps up your juices.

As Sanji continues to lick at your cunt, you feel your body begin to tense, your muscles tensing with anticipation. His hands are still grasped firmly around your hips, holding you in place as he devours you. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and you find yourself rocking gently against his face, urging him on as he brings you closer to the brink of orgasm.

Your moans grow louder as Sanji's tongue probes deeper, his strokes growing more insistent. You can feel the pleasure building inside of you, a coil in your belly that threatens to snap every second. Your hands reach out, grasping for something to hold onto, and find the headboard of the bed, your fingers wrapping tightly around it as you grind against Sanji's skilled mouth. "Oh fuck, Sanji! Feels so good…"

He groans at your words, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Two fingers slip inside you, curling and stroking your velvety walls.

Your hips buck against him as he works his tongue and fingers, pushing you closer to the edge. "Sanji…’m close!" you gasp out.

The combined sensation of Sanji's tongue and fingers sends you over the edge. Your body convulses in his grip as a powerful orgasm crashes through you, your pussy clenching around his fingers. "Shit…cumming, Sanji!" You cry out, back arching as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins.

Sanji holds you steady, lapping gently at your throbbing pussy until the aftershocks subside. When they do, he guides you down to lay beside him on the bed. He tugs you close and captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

"Mmm...you look radiant when you cum," he murmurs into the kiss. His clothed cock presses insistently against your hip, but when you reach for it, he captures your wrist. "Not yet," he teases with a wink. "I want to enjoy this moment with you first."

Sanji tucks a strand of sweat-dampened hair behind your ear before nuzzling into your neck tenderly, peppering soft kisses along the column of your throat. Your breath comes in shaky gasps as you try to regain your composure from the intensity of your orgasm. Sanji's skilled mouth and fingers have left you feeling boneless.

As his lips trail lower, brushing over your collarbone and onto the swell of your breasts, desire stirs anew in your belly. He takes a hardened nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue before grazing it lightly with his teeth. Your slick cunt clenches around nothing at the sensation.

Your hands find their way into his hair, tangling in the silken strands as he worships your tits. "Sanji..." His name falls from your lips on a needy moan.

He lifts his head, teasing eyes meeting yours. "Want me now?"

"Yes," you whine, arching into him. "I need you inside me."

A slow grin spreads across Sanji's face at your words. "Mmm...who am I to deny a lady what she wants."

You watch as he stands up to slip off his suit jacket and hang it on a hook beside the door. Next is his button-down, which he unbuttons with deft fingers before shrugging it off, folding it, and sitting it on the shelf at the end of the bed. Your breath hitches as his toned chest is revealed to your hungry gaze.

Sanji's hands move to his belt next, unbuckling and pulling the leather free before tossing it aside carelessly. He pops the button of his slacks and drags the zipper down achingly slow.

You swallow thickly as he pushes them down along with his underwear in one smooth motion, freeing his cock. It bobs heavily against his stomach, flushed a deep red, and precum beading at the tip.

“Do you see what you do to me, mon cœur?” Sanji purrs.

Your eyes darken with lust as they roam over Sanji's naked form appreciatively. His body is on full display, from the toned abs to his cock jutting proudly from neatly trimmed blond curls at his groin.

Sanji climbs onto the bed again, crawling up your body. He settles between your spread thighs, the heat of his skin seeping into yours as he presses against you. He captures your mouth in another deep kiss, tongue delving past your lips to tangle with yours.

 "God...you’re driving me wild," he groans against your mouth breathlessly before nipping at your bottom lip.

Your hands slide down his back to grip his ass tightly. You roll your hips against his in a blatant invitation, and he lets out a strangled moan.

"You're playing with fire, mon cœur." Sanji smiles, punctuating each word with a grind of his hips.

You both let out twin gasps as the head of his cock nudges demandingly at your slick entrance. Your cunt clenches greedily around nothing, trying to pull him inside.

"Merde… You're so fucking wet," Sanji grits out before sinking into you fully in one smooth thrust.

A long moan tears from your throat at the sudden stretch of being so deliciously filled by him. As he bottoms out, you can feel every ridge and vein rubbing exquisitely along your walls.

For a moment, Sanji stays buried deep inside you, savoring the feeling of finally being inside of you. Then he begins moving–slowly pulling out and gently fucking back into your cunt..

Your hands fist in the sheets above you as you tilt your hips up to meet his steady thrusts, wanting to take him even deeper. The new angle has Sanji groaning deeply.

Sanji's eyes roll back, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he feels your walls gripping him tightly. "Nnngh...you feel so good," he pants out, one hand coming up to cup your breast. He rolls it between his fingers before giving a light pinch to your hardened nipple.

"F-fuck...just like that!" You keen, hands twisting into the sheets harder as Sanji’s cock bullies that spot inside of you that makes sparks shoot across your vision with each drag over it.

"Mmm...I knew this sweet angel cunt would feel like heaven wrapped around my cock," he whines filthily in your ear.

Your body trembles with each deep stroke, Sanji's words sending a rush of heat through your veins. The coil in your stomach tightens, your moans coming faster and higher as he drives you closer to the edge.

"Tighten up around my cock, mon cœur… let me feel you." Sanji hums, continuing his deep and deliberate thrusts into you. 

You cry out sharply as he hits that spot again, hips jerking upwards to meet his thrusts. His hand leaves your breast to wrap around your thigh, hoisting it higher over his shoulder.

The new angle has him pounding against that spot with every snap of his hips, pushing you closer to falling apart underneath him. "That's it, cum on my cock," Sanji encourages breathlessly against your neck.

Your walls flutter around him wildly as you teeter on the brink. A particularly hard thrust from Sanji sends you careening over the edge with a silent scream, vision whiting out behind your eyelids from the force of your orgasm.

Sanji groans as he feels you tighten like a vice around his throbbing cock, the rhythmic squeezes of your release milking him for all he's worth. His hips stutter against yours, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his own high.

“Fuck-” He gasps out after a moment, voice strained with the effort of holding himself back. “The way you look when you cum makes me want to see you cum all over again.”

Your breath hitches at his words, already feeling the heat coiling low in your stomach again despite having just come so hard. Sanji notices and smirks down at you wickedly.

“Mmm...I think I'm going to make good on that promise.” He smiles as he flips your positions so you're now straddling him.

His hands land on your hips encouragingly as you sink down onto his waiting cock. You both moan at the feeling of him filling you up so perfectly once again.

“Ah fuck,” You whine lowly as Sanji bottoms out inside you. Your fingers dig into his chest for purchase before you start rolling your hips experimentally over him.

Sanji groans at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut in bliss as your walls clench around him needily. "Mon cœur...move," he urges breathlessly, giving your hips a squeeze.

You oblige by lifting yourself up until only the tip of him remains inside before sinking back down slowly. Sanji curses under his breath, hands guiding your movements.

“Harder,” He demands when you pick up speed, meeting each roll of your hips with a snap upwards of his own.

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room along with Sanji's deep grunts and your keening cries. You feel that telltale coil tightening once more in your stomach as he drives into you wildly from below.

“Gonna cum again,” You warn through gritted teeth moments before seeing stars behind your eyelids once more.

Sanji feels you clenching down on him rhythmically as you fall apart, the wet heat of your release coating his cock. The feeling pushes him over the edge, and with one last deep thrust, he buries himself inside you completely as he cums.

“Merde,” He groans out through gritted teeth, hips twitching sporadically into yours as he empties himself into you with short, sharp thrusts.

After a long moment, Sanji's movements still, and he collapses back onto the bed. His hands loosen their grip on your hips as they fall limply to his sides. You stay where you are for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of him softening inside your sensitive walls before finally lifting off of him carefully.

Aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you at the movement, but neither of you make a sound other than shaky breaths. Sanji pulls you down beside him so your fronts are pressed together.

“Tu es magnifique, mon ange,” He murmurs in satisfaction against your skin before pressing a light kiss just below your jawline. 

“Stay with me tonight…forget that sorry excuse of a man. Let him find his own way home.”

You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest. "I'd like that," you reply softly, turning to press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

[jlle-marie]

here’s a part of my underground!levi x reader fic i’m working on (part one should be posted soon btw) but i needed to share this little extract which deserves its own post <3

(it’s a long fic called "I'll meet you under blue sky" about meeting levi in the underground city before he joins the scouts and where you once lived above the ground) this scene comes later in the story and can be understood on its own. angsty fic but this part is just fluff, so enjoy! wc: 1k

When Levi walks through the door of your home, his ODM gear still firmly attached to his body, you can't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. A glint of mischief passes through your eyes as you watch him.

“So you're a soldier now, huh?” you decide to tease him today, a faint smile on your lips.

He fixes you with his usual impassive gaze, but there's a hint of reaction in his eyes, something almost imperceptible. “Not exactly, it’s just useful here,” he replies dryly, “So you do know this,” he states calmly, his deep voice hinting at an interest he rarely shows.

Your smile widens for a moment. “Of course I know, it's the military's gear. But... you, on the other hand, aren't supposed to know,” you reply, questioning him with your eyes, suddenly intrigued.

Levi walks into the room, approaching the table where you're standing. He raises an eyebrow, a look of challenge on his face. “I know more than you think,” he replies.

You feel your heart beating faster, your curiosity piqued. “I don't doubt it,”  you murmur as you stare at him, a mixture of admiration and questioning in your eyes. The idea that he could have access to something so rare and dangerous fascinates you.

“Do you want to know how it works?” he asks, without really expecting an answer, his hands already starting to undo the straps.

“Are you going to give me a lesson, soldier?” a smile lights up your face as you joke again.

A slight sneer grazes Levi’s lips, almost against his will. “Let’s say it's my turn to teach you something”.

You've never touched this stuff in your life, so you put on the gear, trying to figure out where each strap fits. Levi watches carefully as you try to adjust to the equipment, his gaze settling on your clumsy movements.

“Don't rush it,” he says, pointing to the too-loose strap hanging over your chest. “This thing needs a good fit.”

You look up at him, a little embarrassed, but he seems relaxed, almost calm in his role. Without a word, he takes the strap from your hands and begins to adjust it for you, his movements confident and precise. He adjusts the strap around your chest, tightening slightly so that it's comfortable, but not too much pressure.

“Of course…” you say, trying to hide the slight tremor in your voice as he moves closer to adjust the straps around you. He's taking care of every detail, and you feel almost embarrassed to be so incompetent in this area.

Despite his impassive expression, Levi feels his heart beating a little too fast for his liking. Every move he makes to adjust the equipment brings him closer to you, and he does his best to keep calm.

His eyes roam over the gear now suitably installed on your body before he steps forward to stand behind you . “Here, I'll show you how it works,” he begins to explain.

Behind you, his body almost pressed against your back, he's so close you can feel the warmth of his presence. It's almost strange, this light touch, and you force yourself to ignore the heat that invades your face. He speaks in a low voice, his breath occasionally grazing the back of your neck.

“Here, place one hand on either side…” He raises an arm and points to the handles on the belt of the gear. “Yes, like that…” He seems to be concentrating, but you sense a certain tension in his movements, as if he too were not completely at ease.

“It has to be stable... If you're comfortable... it's easier to control.”

You try to understand everything he's saying, but the way he's moving around you, his precise, methodical gestures, throw you off balance. You nod, but your voice betrays you, hesitant. “Erm... I think…”

Levi tilts his head, “What? I thought you wanted to try out the gear properly, didn't you?” he says, deliberately choosing to tease you, pretending not to notice your little reaction.

He gets a soft laugh from you in response and feels a little satisfaction, continuing to guide you slowly so that you fully understand how to do it.

“Here the kind of cylinders at the back,” Levi explains, his hands moving to show you the gas trigger that's attached to the belt around your hips. “When you want to pull a grapple cable, you have to hold the controller here,” he says, pointing to the mechanism on the belt.

Levi places his hand on your waist to steady your grip, “It's just like when you showed me how to hold a pencil to write,” he mutters, his fingers hovering close to your skin.

His words pull a small from you though the faint brush of his touch sends a shiver through you. You try not to pay attention, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Levi inhales slowly, as if to remind himself that he's in control. “Don't move so much,” he murmurs when he feels the slight tremors of your body against his chest as you laugh once more.

But the warmth of your back against him, the way your movements disturb him slightly... he can't help wondering if you feel it too. He sighs slightly without meaning to, but he can't help feeling a little... lost.

With the feeling of his breath fanning over your neck, a sudden and unwanted thought creeps in—what would it feel like if his lips brushed your skin? If he pressed them, just lightly— You shift abruptly, trying to shake off the embarrassing thought by adjusting the equipment. With a sudden movement your hands slip, sending part of the gear clattering to the ground.

This creates a metallic noise that makes you jump. “Sorry!” You scramble to pick up the fallen pieces, the feeling of embarrassment overwhelming you even more.

Levi sighs softly, “It's all right.” He leans over to help you put things back. 

“It's just…” Levi hesitates for a moment, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he looks away. “The gear's easier to wear if you don't panic.”

You try to regain your composure, even though his relaxed demeanor only accentuates your unease. For the first time, you realize how unapproachable and calm he seems to you, while you can't even hold the gear properly.

“It's just that it's so heavy…” you murmur, trying to hide your embarrassment with an explanation that's only half true.

Levi nods, a slight smile on his face, as if he finds the situation a little funny, but he doesn't say anything more. He just looks at you, his presence surprisingly reassuring despite your obvious awkwardness.

[amaryllis-sagitta]

Hi again, going through the different endings of DAV, I was pretty surprised to hear Solas being all like "I am a god!!" when Rook beats him in a fight. I know he has pride issues but that felt so OOC to me?? I was wondering if you had an opinion on it?

Hi, thanks for asking again!

There are 3 tiny (or not so tiny?) moments that I think push the envelope on Solas's characterization in a way that allows us to portray him as more genuinely sinister than the main line established in Trespasser, post-Trespasser media and most of DATV, which is the "Pathetic, stubborn man ridden with massive unprocessed guilt and shame, who can't make a choice without some catastrophic collateral for the life of him, and the unforeseen consequences of his choices repeatedly push him to double-cross people and have them do his dirty work".

One moment that had me thinking is the third memory of the rebellion - I mentioned earlier how Solas's pose and facial expressions make him unduly smug when Felassan calls out that they were supposed to do better than send out an army of spirits, appealing to their nature in seemingly good faith, when they were really a distraction doomed to fail. It shocked me because it seems to strike at one of Solas's core values. It's supposed to hurt more in relation to spirits because we know how much Solas despises wasting, destroying or twisting spirit purpose. And yet, in his confrontation with Felassan, he seemed content, smug even, about achieving victory against Elgar'nan and didn't show a trace of regret.

Another moment is the jab in the Fade that "at least you have Varric to talk to", again with a smug sense of satisfaction. Learning about this line took me by surprise because for all the disingenuity Solas is capable of, I never had him for someone who takes delight in such petty cruelty, especially when the matter is also personal to him to a degree. Varric's death should have hurt him by virtue of their mutual respect gained in DAI, so has the game underdelivered in representing this? Or are we really pushing a narrative that he never really changed his mind on non-elves, or chose not to acknowledge them as people, so Varric was just a disposable fool?

The third specific moment that shows Solas in a worse light is the moment you mentioned in the ask. Though, watching this scene, I feel we need to cite the full sentence:

Rook: [...] I am not alone, but you will be. The Veil needs to be tied to the life force of an elvhen god. And now it is, Dread Wolf. Solas: You sneer at me as though you understand. You are mortal! Compared to you, to your infinitesimal existence, I AM A GOD!"

This is a conditional state of an ending, when you decide to fight him and at least the companions in your party have reached the Hero status, which means they survive Solas's counterattacks, so in the end Rook doesn't stand against him alone, and does not end up in the Fade prison with Solas. This is where Solas is at his most desperate, I think, because when Rook remains alone in the Fight ending, it's a pyrrhic victory. Solas doesn't lash out then, because he isn't done with Rook. The context of "I am a god" is that Rook will soon perish while The Dread Wolf will prevail for centuries still, and no mortals can stop him in a way that matters.

But could it also be a trigger for his greatest fear: that there's a realistic chance he can very nastily die alone with his regrets and self-loathing? Because he does not say he is immortal - he never bound a dragon, so he can't take advantage of the Evanuris perk. Neither does he accept a definition of godhood. It's a matter of scale and comparison; in this final moment, he's looking for a way to belittle Rook and their team.

In fact, the "I am a god" in this context represents the extreme of the views he's held about mortals before - arguably, before joining Inquisition. Though I think that even then, he had trouble humanizing races other than elvhen. If his mind has really swayed throughout DAI, it feels barely half a step towards acknowledging that mortal elves, especially the Dalish, might have a point in their approach to history. Then, in Tevinter Nights, he says to Charter that the elves who survive the un-Veiling might find the "new" world better. Not really a win.

I believe a proper background for this is found in two conversations. First, when Rook keeps poking at Solas's plan to tear down the Veil and he stops eluding the question, Rook says "Spoken like a god". Solas's reply in this moment frankly sounds... too deflective. Like it's coming from someone who genuinely needs someone to constantly whisper "Remember you are but a mortal, Caesar" in his ear.

The second moment is when, after having the loud argument with Elgar'nan to get Rook out of a Fade pocket of despair, Solas admits Elgar'nan is who he feared becoming - callous, tyrannical and contemptuous. I guess Solas's worst moments are supposed to show how close he really could get, because the "I am a god" most definitely defines an ego trip that comes from a place of great insecurity.

If I were a hater looking for a hook to make an uncharitable argument that "He was amoral all along and his gentler side was a mask that just waited to slip", I'd start there.

[luc3]

So it's a mountainous part of northern Italy, isn't it? I live on the other side (Dauphiné / Savoie). For now I've just tried to understand what's going on in what you're describing.

We know, from folklore, that each wood/tree has its own natural AND spiritual properties, it can guide us, hinder us, etc. I read a long time ago that some woods were certainly burned for certain very specific reasons/functions (protection/abundance/etc)

For example : burning Fir could be protective. Fir sap has a very comforting smell for us, very reassuring.

I also learned that the flotation of a wood depends on its growth and the environment as well as the density of the water, but that there are obviously denser woods than others that fundamentally will not float.

To continue with my example of the Fir Tree I think that some parts will float, it is a light wood, it is known for that. So in my mind the connection was made: light wood -> wood that protects. (Try a Hawthorn branch in water.)

A bit of a quick shortcut obviously, but you don't mind ! ;)

I am not sure (tell me if I am wrong) and I do not know if we "restrained" cattle with "chains" in the old days. But I have a little experience of living outside the city and surrounded by animals and especially "cattle" and I have NEVER seen in my life a herd of cows, restrained. I have seen horses restrained yes, by 2 or 3, or even more but never a whole herd of horses restrained. This goes for sheep, goats, etc. In general the pastures are as big as possible / or changed regularly.

So in your example, the chains are those of the evil spell cast by the witch -> They are "spiritual" chains, they hinder something that is normally NOT hindered. Chains ARE the curse itself ! -> Which would mean that we must therefore find the object of "power" left by the witch with the cattle and which symbolically represents those chains and then strike the fire with it, to get rid of the "evil".

?

As they say in French : Soigner le mal par le mal .?

If we dissect the tale like that I should be able to find you dozens of similar examples. I'm sure I've already read a number of them.

There is nothing like that in Delmas (but Delmas is very incomplete) / I would have to look in Sebillot and another guy whose books I have in a BOX at the back of my room (sigh, the rabbit hole part of the room).

I don't know when I'll have time to do that, but I'll keep an eye out just in case. I'll still look in the books of tales and legends of Dauphiné that I have somewhere not far.

If a witch has cursed your cattle

When tree branches fall into a river and are shaped and levigated by the water, they’re called “legno povero” (poor wood). Gather some of it and light a fire, then hit it repeatedly with the chains you use to hold your cattle. The witch who cursed it will feel pain and will be compelled to break the curse.

This is an interesting traditional way to break a curse I found in a book about legends and traditions of a small northern Italian region. I wonder if something similar exists in other parts of the Alpine arc? Or maybe in other parts of Europe. Anyway, I thought it would be interesting to share.

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 3: ROYALTY/AHARCHY

CW: Corpses

When Zam finally finds him, everything is already over – the Prince stands, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again, illuminated only by a narrow moonbeam coming through the stained glass window. Around him lie people – torn, maimed, crumbled. Every one of them is dead. The Prince is covered in blood. A sword rests in his hand.

– I'm sorry, – Zam says, because he must always be there for him, and he had no right to lose him, – I-

– Imagine, – the Prince says nonchalantly, wiping his sword, – they found me before I found them. They wanted to end me as they ended my father and mother. Fucking idiots, aren't they?

– Absolutely, Your Highness, – he agrees. There had never been any doubt in him about the Prince's ability to stand up for himself, but it was his responsibility to ensure safety, – they were very naive to think they could just kill you.

There is something nauseating about the number of corpses. He knew there might be double agents in the palace, but something about it left him with the impression that everyone who came to hand had been killed, guilty and innocent. Only now does he notice the horns that are peeking out from under the Prince's crown.

The demonic principle. Zam is embarrassed by the fact that he is not even a bit surprised. After all, he had been at the Prince's right hand since he was quite young.

– They know what you look like now, – he says...

– It's not that important, Zam, – the Prince waves almost lazily. He steps over the corpses, stepping on someone's limbs a couple of times, and turns out to be In front of Zam, – what a hassle, – he grumbles, finding that the blood is tightly embedded in his clothes now, – your cloak? – Zam carefully drapes it over the Prince's shoulders, at least partially covering the ugliness.

– But what now? – Zam bows his head, – the coronation awaits you, – he recollects, – since both the emperor and the empress are dead...

The Prince shakes his head. Those who had lost their rulers needed a friendly, confident and listening king. Not a half-demon who just caused a massacre. He easily came to terms with it, but he was raised as a prince, and he was always thinking about people.

– Zam, – the Prince says at last.

– Yes, Your Highness? – Zam responds. He checks all the passages over and over again to be ready if someone turns up on the approaches, but when the Prince calls out to him, he instantly switches over, staring at him.

– Zam, the people don't know what the heir looks like.

– It's true, – Zam shrugs, – but it won't last long now since the privacy perimeter has been violated. It'll make sense to get ahead of them and make a public statement-

– Zam. – The Prince interrupts him, and he breaks off, for some reason looking at him in confusion. There is always something special in his view of him - attention, dedication, devotion.

He waits for him to continue, but instead, the Prince takes off his crown. Without it, his protruding red-maroon horns are even more noticeable, making it unable to confuse them with anything.

– Zam, – he repeats, holding the crown in his hands, – the empire needs a symbol of hope, and it's not me. Demon-maniac is an image for a pocket killer, not for the ruler of them all. Will you become the new emperor?

Zam looks very similar to the deceased emperor and empress – blond and tan, with elegant features that do not correspond to his training in any way. He was not a simple man and was barely a year older than the Prince, but he had a kind face. They looked like two opposites – light and shadow, sun and moon.

And... He starts talking, but stutters and stops. Thousands of thoughts and questions swarm in his head, but as soon as he stops himself, he understands everything. This is a sophisticated puzzle that comes together in a single movement. He falls to one knee.

– Yes, Your Highness. – he answers, bowing his head, and still warm metal touches the top of his head. He looks up and notices that Mapicc is smiling.

– Welcome, my prince.

[hyperfixation-fix]

Alright girls, guys, and gays - welcome to...

A Newby's Guide to the Marauders Fandom

You keep seeing your mutuals post about this Harry-Potter-adjacent fandom. It seems cool, and pretty damn gay, and you're kinda curious to know more. Except there's one problem: there is little-to-no actual canon.

How do you get into a fandom with little-to-no canon material?

Well friends, I'm here to help! Consider this post your roadmap to the fandom - useful locations are noted, major landmarks and tourist destinations are starred, and recommended routes are highlighted.

But where you actually go is up to you.

Level 1: The Basics

If you're the freshest of fresh meat to this fandom, you may like to start with a nice little overview of our chaos-fanon. Here are some YouTube videos that give you a good tl;dr:

a deep dive into the marauders fandom by uncarley (YouTube video, general topic, no major content warnings) - this is a great starter video, especially if you're not a fandom person usually. It's digestible, fun, and not too lore-heavy.

The Marauders Era Fandom Deep Dive! by Coffeekoe (YouTube video, general topic, no major content warnings) - alternatively (or in addition), this is another great starter video, but possibly more from a fandom-familiar perspective. Also Coffeekoe just has great vibes and I want to kiss them on the forehead. Mwuah mwuah mwuah.

Marauders Era Ships Deep Dive! by Coffeekoe (YouTube video, several different ships, no major content warnings) - after you've got the gist of how the fandom works, you might want to know a bit more about the common Marauders ships. This video gives an awesome (and comprehensive) overview.

Level 2: The Canon in the Fanon

You're going to have a pretty tough time in the fandom if you're not at least somewhat familiar with The Fanfic™️, All the Young Dudes. This fic is as highly revered (if not more so) than the real actual canon text (obligatory fuck JKR).

First off let's understand what it is.

All the Young Dudes is a long-form fanfiction written by MsKingBean89 and published on Archive of Our Own. And when I say long-form, I mean long-form - this thing is a monstrous 188 (chunky) chapters long. It spans from 1971, when the Marauders start their first year at Hogwarts, until 1995, when Remus dies. Speaking of which, it's also canon-compliant, so I'll save you some heartache and tell you right now that all of the characters die in pretty tragic ways. I'm not going to lie to you, it's a pretty heavy story - there are strong themes of child abuse, homophobia, underage drinking/smoking, drug abuse, abusive relationships, and trauma. BUT. I really enjoyed it and have read it twice now, simply because the happy bits are worth the painful bits.

With all of that in mind, here are (my recommendations for) your options for acquiring your ATYD education:

All The Young Dudes Deep Dive! by Coffeekoe (YouTube video, ATYD, some light discussion of triggering topics mentioned above, spoiler heavy!!!) - yep that's right, it's Coffeekoe again. Mwuah mwuah mwuah. This video is a super duper great alternative to reading ATYD, or a great way to dip your toe in and see if you want to commit to reading it in full. Obviously it's spoiler heavy, so if you already know you want to read ATYD and spoilers bug you, just skip it.

All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89 (AO3 fic, mostly Wolfstar, triggers as mentioned above) - here's just a straight up link to the fic. You may need an account on AO3 to access it.

All the Young Dudes by BIBLIOBIBULI (YouTube, same as above) - if you're like me and love the idea of reading a long-fic, but don't actually have the time/energy/patience/stamina to do it, an audiobook might be the way to go! This one is great, and complete. You're welcome 🫶

Level 3: Fics of Note

Okay! By now, you should have received your official Marauders Fandom Certification in the mail (or, I guess, via owl), and you're pretty much free to go and explore the fandom on your own. You may, however, still come across references that confuse you. Those (probably) come from one of the many, many, many popular fics in the fandom.

Here's just a few of the major ones and links to them, for your convenience (asterisks indicate fics that require an account to access):

NOTE: This is not a rec list. Approach with caution and read all the tags.

Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars*

Just Lovers (Like We Were Supposed To Be) by bizarrestars*

Best Friend's Brother by bizarrestars*

Choices by MesserMoon

Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon

All the Young Dudes - Sirius's Perspective by Rollercoasterwords

The Cadence Of Part-Time Poets by motswolo

Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs

Only the Brave by Solmussa*

Level 4: You're On Your Own, Kid

You're still here? Why are you still here? You should be out there, enjoying your newly acquired fandom!

Fine, one last piece of advice and then you really have to leave:

Engage.

This fandom is unique because it is the weird, Frankenstein's-Monster-esque lovechild of thousands of strange little obsessive gremlin people like you and me. Sure, it only has one eye and far too many nipples, but who cares? We made this and we love it. And it's your job, as someone in the fandom, to keep it alive by engaging. Yes, this is true for every fandom, but even more so here. Comment, reblog, share, recommend fics, ask for fic recs. Fuck it, create too - write, draw, share headcanons, make playlists. It doesn't matter if it's "bad" or "wrong", there aren't any fucking rules.

Add another nipple, by all means! Eyes are overrated anyway.

[daretoassume]

hello, i hope you're doing well. my english is not the best so i apologize. i've been on the loa side of tumblr for some time and one thing that has stuck with me the most is "once you know you've the ultimate power, you will view your imagination as your true reality" and the thing is that i understand his and i understand that we're conditioned to be realistic and believe the opposite of what loa teaches since day 1. but what i don't understand is how do you or anyone who has been successfully manifesting be in *that* state where things happening in your reality doesn't phase you? how do you be so sure of your imagination that you surrender to it? majority of the people i see here view loa as a back up option of some sorts. it's like "if i don't complete this assignment by today, i'll just manifest that the deadline extends" instead of "i don't have to complete my assignment because the assignment is already completed/doesn't even exist in the first place". i really struggle with understanding and being on board with the contradicting opinions and actions of people on the same subject. i've manifested some things but even today in order to be in that state or mindset, i need to listen to a subliminal or do mediation. so, i'm really curious as to how it all comes naturally to everyone. i'm so sorry for the long ask but i hope you can provide your input.

hellooo angel, one thing i always remind myself is that i shouldn't apply logic to something profound. try to take everything you are learning lightly. be so light about it.

1. to be in the state where things don't bother me, no matter what is happening, was a habit i developed over time. i understand that i must constantly choose the reality i prefer, and for me to do that, i can't be phased by whatever is happening outside of me when everything i ever wanted is already done, already experienced, in my inner world.

this was a hard lesson for me (it was tied to my core belief). of course, that's just how i went through it, and i want to be transparent because it's not just about the law of assumption—i mixed in everything i learned about personal growth and loa.

now, i’m not saying you or anyone else has to go through the same process, but that's how i molded my beliefs.

2. when it comes to back-up options, it's all about preference— what you prefer to experience in your reality. some people place conditions or limitations on their reality, so they might choose what feels like the path of least resistance. either way, it's done.

3. if you believe subliminals or meditations help you, and if you think they are the path of least resistance, then go ahead. but you really don't need them. your desires—everything you want to experience—are already yours. it's done, it's solidified. you don't need to impose these unspoken rules on yourself to experience it. you are already experiencing it in your imagination. these unspoken rules and conditions are only holding you back.

i hope this helps you!

[hypnoneghoul]

Symbol on the Surface Chapter 13

WC: 1,5k

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Mild Dysphoria, Fluff

“Do you know what ‘seahorse dad’ means?”

Notes: Tysm to @jimothybarnes for beta reading :3

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 13 under the cut or on AO3.

It has always been rare for Swiss to feel dysphoric, and even though he’s been experiencing it more since he started showing, it still doesn’t happen that much.

It’s only sometimes that he’ll catch a glimpse of his reflection somewhere and fall down an ugly spiral that he has to be fished out of by his mate.

By the time Christmas comes around, Swiss is five months pregnant and he is huge.

Being ghouls, they don’t really celebrate Christmas, but everyone loves the atmosphere and the fun of it, so every year they simply…skip the christian parts. Most of the Abbey does; it’s a big thing and the name of the festivities is up to everyone’s personal preference—Christmas, Yule, Winter Solstice, or nothing at all.

One of Swiss and Mountain’s favorite parts about that time are sweaters. They love getting matching Christmas sweaters that half the world’s population would cringe at; they have so many stuffed in the back of their closet—waiting for their time to shine year after year.

Unfortunately, this year they have not accounted for Swiss’ current size. It’s been so busy, neither of them thought about the sweaters until they saw someone else wearing them and remembered about their little custom.

The multi ghoul tries. He looks for the most stretchy sweater there is and gets Mountain’s, instead of his own. They are a little oversized, anyway, it should work.

More or less…

“It’s okay if it doesn’t fit, darling, we don’t have to wear them this year,” Mountain assures him, but he knows Swiss won’t budge—and it’s not only about the damn sweater. It’s about tradition, but also about how his body is changing. He doesn’t particularly like it.

Swiss grunts as he wiggles into the sweater—refusing his mate’s offer of help—and eventually he does get it stretched over his baby bump, but the knitwear is holding on for dear life.

Mountain sighs, looking down at a strangely distorted reindeer. He looks up at the multi ghoul’s face when he hears him sniffle, though, and his heart breaks a little.

“Oh, my darling…” he coos, coming up to Swiss to hug him. “It’s okay, we can find you a different one that doesn’t squeeze you so much. Maybe Aether or Omega have something.”

“It’s not–not about the sweater,” the multi ghoul cries, whining into Mountain’s neck.

“What is it then, my heart?” he asks gently as he rubs Swiss’ back.

“I look like a sack of potatoes! How can you even look at me, I’m all swollen, and then there’s these–these fucking stretchmarks, and–and…” he sobs, but the last part seems to get stuck in his throat.

Mountain wants to know what he’s working with before he addresses every single concern of his mate. He also knows that it’s going to make everything worse if Swiss keeps some part of it in, so he prods gently, “What’s the ‘and’ about?”

The multi ghoul sighs before shoving his face further into the other’s neck to mumble out something incomprehensible.

“My heart, you know I didn’t catch that.” Swiss groans, but moves his face.

“I look like a woman…” he mutters; still quietly, but understandably now.

“My darling,” Mountain starts, pulling back to look into his mate’s eyes when he speaks, “my beloved mate, light of my life, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

He waits for Swiss to nod before carrying on, “You’ve grown because you are carrying our children inside you. Our kits, our babies; you’re going to give them life, bring them into this world! I can only imagine how it feels, and I wish I could take all the hardships of it away from you, but it truly is a wonderful thing and I couldn’t be more proud of you. You do not look like a sack of potatoes, or a woman. You look absolutely beautiful, my handsome man, and I know you can see in my eyes that I mean every single word. Can you not?”

“I can…” the multi ghoul replies quietly—as if ashamed that he’s even dared to doubt his mate. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my heart,” Mountain smiles and brings Swiss close again for a tight—albeit careful—hug. It lasts a good couple minutes before the earth ghoul notices that his mate starts to shift his feet in discomfort; even though he doesn’t say anything. The earth ghoul pulls away. 

“Do you know what ‘seahorse dad’ means?” he asks, suddenly having remembered something that Rain had mentioned to him a couple weeks ago.

“I don’t think so…” Swiss admits.

“When seahorses make babies, it’s the males that carry them,” Mountain explains. “Apparently trans men that get pregnant are called seahorse dads because of that.”

Swiss stares at him with his mouth slightly agape for a moment. It turns into a smile before he bursts into tears again. The hormones have really turned him into a mess.

“That’s so cuteee,” he all but wails, his crying now cuteness-induced, instead of…the other kind of crying. Mountain considers it a win.

“It is,” he chuckles, wiping Swiss’ tears away, “let’s lay down and I’ll show you some pictures, hm?”

“Okay,” he sniffles and follows his mate to the bed. He cringes at the tight sweater he’s still trapped in, though. “Ough, help me out of this damn contraption.”

Mountain laughs, but helps free him, indeed.

“I’ll text the group chat and get you a sweater for this year, my heart,” he promises, and Swiss doesn’t doubt it. He knows that if Mountain didn’t manage to find one to borrow, he’d make one from scratch overnight—just so his mate wouldn’t be upset. That’s how much he loves him.

The earth ghoul lays down first and Swiss joins him right away. He snuggles himself into Mountain’s side, resting his stomach against his mate’s hip and his face in the crook of his neck. Swiss inhales deeply, trilling at that familiar scent he loves so much; the smell of the first days of summer.

As promised, Mountain gets out his phone and sends out the ‘sweater wanted’ text first, then moving onto TikTok to find some seahorse dads for Swiss—both the actual fish and pregnant trans men. The former makes the multi ghoul shed some more cuteness-tears, and the latter succeeds in boosting his confidence and chasing the dysphoria away.

They stay in bed for a little while—as they’ve been doing most of their time for the last couple weeks. Swiss needs all the rest he can get and Mountain doesn’t want to step away from him for even a second. He doesn’t have anything better to do, anyways; all his outside work is paused for the winter after he and the other earth ghouls have secured everything against the cold.

So Swiss and Mountain keep snuggling—the earth ghoul caressing the other’s stomach as he purrs—until a phone buzzes somewhere. It got lost in the sheets, but once it’s recovered, the multi ghoul chirps happily at the message.

It’s from Omega, he sent Mountain a couple photos of the sweaters he has and could not only borrow, but give away. Apparently, every time they were on tour in the winter, Terzo had gotten the older quintessence ghoul a silly Christmas sweater, so he’s got plenty.

“I can go get them right now,” Mountain offers, “got any favorites, darling?”

“Hm…” Swiss stares at the pictures, zooming in and out and thoroughly analyzing every sweater offered. The earth ghoul gives him time and after a moment he makes his decision. “This one!”

Mountain smiles, kisses Swiss on the forehead and jumps out of bed to go grab it. Omega’s only downstairs, so it’s only a moment. The multi ghoul uses that time to go to the bathroom—it’s not a quick business nowadays.

When his mate returns with the sweater, Swiss is ecstatic. He’s buzzing with excitement and if he weren’t pregnant, he’d be jumping up and down. Mountain laughs as he helps him wiggle into the sweater and while it’s clear that it wasn’t made with pregnant people in mind, it fits nearly perfectly.

The earth ghoul could just about cry, seeing his mate so happy over something so…basic and small. He brings him in for a hug.

“Merry Christmas,” Swiss purrs, nuzzling the side of his face against his mate’s.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Mountain whispers before kissing him—deeply, but softly. When they pull away for breath, the earth ghoul winks and gets down on his knees before Swiss.

At first he thinks he’s about to get a naughty early gift, but instead of pulling down his pants, Mountain pulls up the bottom of his—not that long ago Omega’s—sweater. Swiss looks down at him with his brows furrowed in confusion as his mate kisses his bump.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, little ones,” Mountain mumbles and Swiss tears up once again.

Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus @ghoultrifle (if anyone from here wants to be removed lmk, and also if anyone else wants to be added)

[urban-fleabag]

hi!! i do feel kinda weird for asking for therian tips like right after you got an ask on the same subject but i was def wondering if i could have any feline tips? for reference i am a cladotherian (felidae) and i kinda just have felt kinda disconnected from my therianthropy so i was wondering if theres anything i can do about that? i am not comfy meditating just for personal reasons and i dont do much quads or vocals due to an unsafe environment in my home. i kind of am generally wanting tips and things that can pass as human behavior just as a heads up!! im really sorry again if this is a super picky ask / if you dont want to do another one of these therian tip posts,,, thank you in advance if you end up responding <3 (/p heart)

You're all good, and I don't mind helping out where I can! You're not being picky, you're being specific and that's totally fine.

Anything that makes your room feel more comfortable to you is gonna be a huge help, since it's your space. If I understand right, cladotherians are all of that type of animal, right? That means you've got a ton of options to try out to see what room arrangements feel like a cozy home, and which of those you can pass off as a "nature aesthetic"- when I was a little kid my room was entirely jungle themed because I was absolutely obsessed with animals, and if when I moved in with my grandma I could've kept it I absolutely would've. Having a nature theme in there that's similar to an environment you'd have lived in could make you feel more at home!

Next, birdwatching in the park or your yard can definitely feel like you're watching prey, especially if you're in a housecat type of mood, and that's easily a human behavior too! If you have a couch or chair that gets nice Sunbeam light during the day, I also recommend a nap there once in a while- therian or not that just feels good. If anyone asks, just say you got too cozy and dozed off. And, if you're the type to establish a territory, just walking in nature could really help you out here! Doubly so if you're feeling connected at the moment to a cat that suits the climate and current weather- take a nature walk and remind yourself that you're at home and you're part of all this.

All felines are obligated carnivores, so adding some extra meat (or meat-textured non meat foods if you don't eat meat) to your diet could make you feel like you're feeding your inner cat! If anyone asks, which they shouldn't, say you're just making sure you get enough protein, or if fish is your meat of choice, there are SO many good nutrients in fish that no one's going to question your uptick there.

Make the lack of vocals for you an advantage to you if you can. Many cats, especially feral domesticated cats, don't make a lot of sounds to start with! Housecats only meow as kittens and to humans for the most part, for example! So you might not be able to roar like a lion, but you can absolutely quietly stalk through your house like a panther, silent as to not alert your prey (leftovers in the fridge).

Also, if you've got a FiveBelow near you- they sell cat ear headphones! They're relatively cheap, under 15 iirc, comfortable and with decently good sound. It's gear without it being gear! If anyone questions, it's a trend to put cat ears on headphones right now, especially if you happen to be a gamer. I can personally attest to these, because they were the cheapest ones there for a while I had a couple pairs and they're super comfy.

I also recommend playing games that have you playing as different felines- it's weird to say but Roblox has a lot of these, give some a try and really get into the mindset.

I hope this helped! And remember- one day, your circumstances will change, and you'll be able to be as openly yourself as you want to be. There's a place in this world for creatures like us. ❤️

[astrobuggy]

The protecting the children part I get bc you never know what could happen (but with how Lunar acts towards Dazzle and Jack, I don't think he'd let that happen and I doubt they'll know anything about what's going on with Lunar)

The part(s) that pissed me off the most was the inconsideration of Lunars whereabouts during those 3 days. Moon asked where Lunar was for those 3 days. Lunar answers with the truth: he was in jail. Space jail (possibly light years away) at that. And Moon doesn't care. He doesn't consider that a reasonable excuse to not be there the second he got a hold of himself. And it's like... man, WTF WAS HE SUPPOSED TO DO?! HE WAS LOCKED AWAY LIGHT YEARS AWAY FROM YOU AND THE SECOND HE WAS FREE HE RAN STRAIGHT TO YOU.

Another part that pissed me off was Monty trying to kill Lunar and the family not really caring (before the kicking out video). Moon literally said he doesn't want to give him the "easy way out" whatever the fuck that meant. So you want your LITTLE BROTHER to suffer just bc death is too merciful. Also, why would you want to KILL HIM?!

You make ONE mistake in the celestial family, and all of a sudden, you've been exiled and being hunted down

I understand Nexus fans to the fullest extent now 😐

[rez anon]

EARTH WHEN I FUCKING GET YOU

'oh we made sure he knew we still loved him' yeah fuckin sure Moon the definitely felt the love when you left him fucking homeless.

'He's developed several bad coping mechanisms'

OK THEN FUCKING HELP HIM?!?!? YOU HAD BAD COPING MECHANISMS TOO?!

'Oh he said it was an accident but we don't know if it was a one time thing so we're gonna kick him out to protect the kids'

Moon was it a one time thing when you let killcode out to kill? You think you're ANY safer???

'I will always be your brother, I will always look out for you.'

Aint that the same fuckin thing you told Lunar? Cus you sure as he'll didn't follow up on that.

Gond fucking forgive Lunar act like Eclipse

Ill talk more later

WATCHED THE EP U SENT THIS ABOUT JUST NOW AND YEAH. YEAH.

I AM... JUST. BAFFLED. I AM SHOCKED AND APPALLED. THERE'S NO WAY THIS HAS ALL BECOME "FOR THE KIDS' SAFETY." The way Earth just immediately understood why they kicked Lunar out is just,,, augh. Yes Moon I'm sure Lunar felt the love just dripping from your statement of "you're lucky you're still even considered family." 😭

YEA THE WAY THEY TALKED ABT HOW LUNAR'S WAS COPING MESSED ME UP ACTUALLY. Like, the whole interaction of,,, "He's hidden so much from me." "That's just how he is." "I don't like how he is then." LIKE OH,,, OH. OW!!! YK??? LIKE FUCK. On one hand I am so painfully aware of the celestial family's perspective on this, and I know that Lunar has avoided proper help before. But on the other hand THAT FEELS LIKE SUCH AN UTTERLY CRUSHING THING TO SAY.

It just feels like,,, you got a look under their cheery little mask for the first time and saw all the gross anger and unhealed trauma underneath and you decided that's just... it? Earth, who stuck out for Eclipse, saw anger and resentment in Lunar and said she doesn't like who they are anymore??? Like. Am I reaching here or does that feel unfair?!?!!!

AND HONESTLY THE KILL CODE POINT. YEAH. Like again I get it. Yes it would suck to risk having repeats of this incident. But also like. The other family members have shit too that could be regarded with the same weird caution and it's like. cmon. I'm starting to wonder if it really is just a matter of Lunar being too astral to fit in with their entirely robot family, yk???

Like. Idk. Vague hand motions. Nexus fans I'm sorry I never understood you until now HSJABDJSN

[emmaspolaroid]

your heart is the only place that i call home

(my very last minute contribution to Norember 🤍🧡 closeup + alternate colors under the cut!)