#he has his sol filter on

[guiltymepleasures]

Sol used "I'm not going home tonight" on Sun Jae.

💯% effective

[castiellesbian]

party city wig. blurry wife. jenny the vampire. death by phallic rebar. john lives down the road. el sol. one piece of toast representing there aren't two pieces of toast. "[through tears] this is agent bon jovi." weird color filter the entire episode that was bad even for late seasons spn. two back to back carry on my wayward sons. vampires with clown masks for some reason. robert singer laughing when dean gets pied in the face. sam naming his son "dean" which we know because it was embroidered on his overalls. dean shitting outside deleted scene. dead kansas in the original script. jimmy in heaven but no cas in the original script. the job application in dean's room. shirtless jared. the episode being short so they could fit in more walker ads. dean saying he's "fading fast" then has a 5 minute long monologue. stupid forehead touch i have to see j2 doing photos for at every convention from now until eternity. they couldn't bring back misha because of covid but they had the entire crew crowded on the bridge maskless. car was raptured.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝓎𝓅𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜

· ───────⋆⋅♤⋅⋆─────── · 

Geo has officially become my second favorite character in Tkatb. As an asexual person writing about another asexual-coded character, I have to say—he makes me feel seen. It’s like he literally can’t take his eyes off me (and let’s face it, with Geo, that’s more intense than romantic).

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

But let’s be serious: I love him platonically. Sorry Brittany.

So, of course, I’ll share my headcanons about Geo, some shared by other fans, and even a few from the game’s lore. And no, before you ask, I won’t be writing about Sol in this “Type of Boyfriend” trope. He’s the obvious main choice in the game, and countless talented writers have already explored that lane. 

Geo, however? His quiet, unsettling stares deserve its moment in the spotlight.

Okay, so let’s talk about Geo as a boyfriend. First of all, congratulations on making that happen. Like, seriously, how did you pull it off? 

Because let’s be real, Geo is not the type to just open his heart to anyone. This man’s walls are practically made of steel, and I’m sure it took some serious patience, persistence, and probably some sorcery to get him to even consider letting you in.

But hey, you did it. So now you’ve got yourself the most stoic, broody, and incredibly hot boyfriend. So let’s break it down! 

✑ The Silent Observer

Like said, getting close to Geo? Oh man, that was like trying to break into a vault without the code. And let’s be honest, at first, you probably weren’t even trying to get to him—he just happened to be standing there while you were hanging out with Crowe. But of course, Geo being Geo, he’d hit you with those cold, piercing stares that made you question every single life choice.

And don’t even get me started on his bluntness. He’s the definition of the strong, silent type. He only speaks when he thinks something needs to be said, which means you’re never getting any filler or small talk from him. It’s not that he’s rude—he just values words and doesn’t see the point in wasting them. 

He’d just say it. Straight up. No filter. 

However, he does talk—pretty much one sentence though, it’s worth listening to because you’ll quickly realize how sharp he is. Geo’s intelligence and observant nature are on another level too… 

The kind of observant where he notices *everything*. He’s like that one friend who knows all the drama without ever saying a word. While Brittany would spill the tea loudly and proudly, Geo keeps it all locked away in that steel trap of a brain. He’s always watching, analyzing, and probably always two steps ahead. It’s part of what makes him such a great strategist but also why he’s so cautious about trusting anyone.  

So, instead of running for the hills like most people would, you stayed. And that’s probably what made him start noticing you. You didn’t back off, didn’t try to change him, just kind of… stuck around. 

Geo doesn’t do well with people who push or pry, so the fact that you respected his space but still showed up? Yeah, that got to him. Even if he’d never admit it out loud.

What’s wild is that he notices everything. Stuff you didn’t even realize about yourself? Yeah, he’s clocked it already. He’s the kind of guy who remembers your favorite drink, the way you twirl your hair when you’re stressed, or even the exact date you mentioned something offhand weeks ago. It’s almost unsettling how much he takes in, but it’s also one of the ways he shows how much he cares.

He’s not the type to constantly shower you with compliments or grand gestures, but his quiet, steady presence speaks volumes. Geo’s the guy who will fix something for you before you even realize it’s broken or offer exactly what you need without you having to ask. 

And when he does open up or say something heartfelt? You know it’s real because he doesn’t just say things lightly.

✑ Low-key Romantic

Okay, let’s get real—Geo is not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. If anything, he’s probably got it locked up in a box somewhere with a “Do Not Disturb” sign slapped on it. But here’s the thing: when Geo cares, he cares. Like, no half-measures. 

Once he lets someone in—which is a feat on its own—you have his full, unwavering loyalty. And let’s be honest, why would Geo want anyone else? He’s not the type to hop from person to person—when he chooses you, he chooses you.

I’m pulling his asexual card here because it just fits. Geo isn’t about flashy romance or grand declarations. For him, love isn’t in the words or PDA—mind you he HATES PDA—it’s in the quiet, consistent ways he shows up for you. He wouldn’t just call you his partner; he’d treat you like you’re the most important person in his life, even if he doesn’t say it outright.

And the way he shows his affection? It’s all in the details. Geo is hyper-observant—he probably knows you better than you know yourself. 

Again, he’ll pick up on the smallest things, like how you take your coffee or tea, the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, or how you’re always talking about that one book or game you’re obsessed with. And he’ll use that information to make your day in ways that feel effortless.

Expect random, thoughtful surprises. Maybe your favorite snacks just happen to appear on your desk when you’re having a rough day, or you’ll find tickets to that movie you’ve been dying to see in your bag without him saying a word. He’s not going to make a big deal about it either—he’ll just shrug it off like it’s no big deal, but deep down, he’s paying attention to every detail that makes you you.

Geo’s love language is subtle, sure, but it’s also steady and reliable. 

You won’t always see it coming, but you’ll feel it in the way he’s always quietly there for you, no matter what.

✑ Protective But Not Overbearing

Oh, Geo’s hella protective—like, protective to the point where you know he’s got your back no matter what. But don’t think for a second he’s the clingy or overbearing type. Nah, that’s not his style. 

He’s more of a silent sentinel kind of guy, keeping a close eye on everything while letting you do your thing. He trusts you to handle yourself, and honestly? That trust speaks volumes. He knows you’re capable, and he’s not about to baby you or hover like some overprotective shadow.

But let’s get one thing straight—if someone crosses the line with you? Game over. Geo might seem calm and composed most of the time, but when it comes to defending you, that sharp tongue of his comes out swinging. 

And let’s not forget the fact that he’s an archer. I’m just saying, if someone pushes too far, they’d better pray they’re not anywhere near a target. He wouldn’t need to say much—one cold glare, one well-aimed shot at a bullseye, and everyone around would get the message.

What’s even better is that Geo doesn’t make a scene about it. He’s not the type to start unnecessary drama or puff up his chest to prove something. He’ll shut down any nonsense with a few carefully chosen words or, if it comes to it, an intimidating presence that leaves no room for argument. 

He’s protective, yeah, but it’s in this quiet, no-nonsense way that just makes you feel safe without feeling suffocated.

And honestly? That balance is rare. He’s like your personal bodyguard without the need for the over-the-top theatrics. It’s not about control—it’s about making sure you know you’re valued and looked out for. 

And for Geo, that’s everything.

✑ A Hidden Heart

Geo’s not the type to be up in your face 24/7. Nah, for him, it’s all about quality over quantity. He’s perfectly fine with spending an hour sitting next to you in total silence, maybe reading or just walking side by side. 

You don’t even have to talk—he’s not big on words anyway. It’s the connection that matters to him, not the setting or how much time you spend together. 

To Geo, a quiet moment shared between just the two of you means more than any loud party or over-the-top date night ever could.

Now, let’s talk about Geo’s bluntness. We all know he’s sharp-tongued, unfiltered, and way too honest for his own good. It’s kind of his thing. But when it comes to you? That edge softens, and he tries—tries being the keyword here—to rein it in. He’s still going to tell you exactly what he thinks because, let’s be real, that’s just who he is. 

But with you, he’ll make the effort to phrase things more gently. You’re one of the very few people who gets that version of him, and let’s be honest, that’s kind of special. You get to see the side of him that’s not all sharp remarks and icy glares, the side that actually cares.

And while Geo might seem like this stoic, broody guy who doesn’t let anything faze him, he’s secretly a total softie when it comes to you. Again, he’s not going to smother you with hugs or drown you in words of comfort when you’re upset—that’s not his style. He’s not like Crowe T-T.

But he’ll be there. 

Sitting beside you when you’re crying, quietly handing you tissues, letting you lean on his shoulder without a word. He listens, like really listens, and you can feel his presence grounding you even when he doesn’t say much.

It’s not that Geo doesn’t care—he just shows it in his own way. A quiet walk, a softened tone, a steady shoulder to lean on. With Geo, love isn’t loud or flashy. It’s steady, subtle, and completely genuine.

✑ Tailored to You

Geo and the five love languages? Well… Spoiler alert: this man is low-key okay at all of them, even if he’ll never admit it.

— Words of Affirmation? 

So… Compliments? Yeah, don’t hold your breath. He’s not going to gush about how you’re the most incredible person on the planet. 

But when he does say something nice? Oh, it means something. If Geo tells you, “That was impressive,” just know he’s basically screaming, “I’m so proud of you” on the inside. And if you ever compliment him? Expect a half-hearted shrug and a muttered, “I guess,” but deep down, you know he’s preening like a cat that just caught a mouse.

— Acts of Service? 

This is where Geo shines. He’s not going to say, “I love you” outright, but he’ll carry your bag, or make sure you’re eating when you’ve had a rough day. 

Dating Geo means having someone who sees you, even when you think no one else does. He’s a protector, a confidant, and someone who keeps things real—all wrapped up in a broody, mysterious package. 

Need something heavy moved? Done. Can’t open a jar? No problem. He’s like a one-man life support system, quietly taking care of you while pretending it’s no big deal.

— Receiving Gifts?

Geo doesn’t do flashy gifts, but when he gives you something? It’s weirdly specific and thoughtful. Like, you’ll casually mention liking a certain anything once, and boom—it’s sitting in front of your door the next day. He’ll pretend it’s not a big deal, though. “Oh, I just saw it at the store,” he’ll say, even though you know he went out of his way to get it.

— Quality Time?

This one is Geo’s bread and butter. He’s all about meaningful moments. Forget big group hangouts or extravagant plans—he’d rather spend a quiet evening with you, just existing in the same space. You could be doing something as mundane as grocery shopping, and he’d still find a way to make it feel special. And if you’re both just sitting in silence, reading or scrolling on your phones? That’s peak romance for him.

— Physical Touch?

All right, let’s be real—Geo isn’t big on touchy-feely stuff. He’s the type to freeze up if someone hugs him unexpectedly. But with you? He warms up to it. He’s still awkward as hell at first, but over time, he’ll start initiating small touches—a hand on your shoulder, brushing hair out of your face, or even holding your hand when no one’s looking. And if you hug him? He’ll grumble about it, but he secretly loves it.

In conclusion? Geo’s love language is basically Geo Language—quiet, understated, and 100% tailored to you. He’s not going to shout his feelings from the rooftops, but if you pay attention, his actions scream, “You’re my person, and I’m not letting you go.”

✑ Tailored to Him

So you wanna know Geo’s love languages? As unique as he is and if we had to rank them, here’s the holy trinity that makes this stoic archer tick:

Geo is an independent guy, but even the most self-sufficient people need someone who understands them. He craves someone who respects his need for space but knows when to step in with the right kind of support.

— Acts of Service (His #1, obviously)

Geo isn’t the type to ask for help—he’s too independent for that. But when you step in and do something thoughtful for him without being asked? 

That’s how you win this man over. 

He’s got this quiet appreciation for when people notice the little things, like brewing him tea when he’s had a rough day or cleaning up his gear after practice. Bonus points if you surprise him with something related to his hobbies, like a rare Japanese opera recording or a new pot for one of his plants. Acts of service show him that you’re paying attention, and trust me, he notices.

— Quality Time

Geo doesn’t want loud, over-the-top outings or big social gatherings. In fact, the less noise and chaos, the better. What he really craves is quiet, intentional moments with someone who just gets him. 

Sitting together in a cozy home, tending to his potted plants, or watching the intricate art of shadow puppetry—these are the things that speak to his soul. Geo thrives in these quiet spaces where he can relax, reflect, and enjoy meaningful companionship. 

Just don’t interrupt if he’s hyper-focused on something. He’ll side-eye you into another dimension.

— Receiving Gifts

Okay, hear me out—Geo hates getting gifts, right? I mean, he literally burned the random Valentine’s Day presents people gave him that one time. Absolute menace behavior, but honestly? It’s kind of funny in a this-man-does-not-care way. But here’s the twist: Geo’s not against all gifts. He’s just very particular.

See, he doesn’t want over-the-top, flashy stuff. No giant teddy bears, love letters, heart-shaped balloons, or anything that screams “cliché.” If you even think about giving him something generic, he’ll give you that deadpan look that could shrivel your soul. However, thoughtful, personalized gifts? 

That’s a whole different story.

Picture this: you show up with a sleek, modern pot for one of his beloved plants, or maybe a rare variety of seeds that he hasn’t gotten his hands on yet. Geo would never say it out loud, but inside? He’s lowkey impressed. Or let’s say you score him tickets to a Japanese opera—something you know he’d appreciate but would never bother getting for himself. Now, that would leave him quietly staring at you like, “…You actually get me.”

And don’t even get me started on shadow puppetry. If you found a book about advanced techniques or a vintage lamp to use for creating the perfect shadows? You’d probably see the faintest flicker of a smile—like, barely there, but it counts.

With Geo, it’s not about spending a ton of money or going big. It’s about showing that you know him—that you’ve paid attention to his quirks, his hobbies, and the things that make him tick. When the gift reflects his personality and interests? 

That’s when you see the softer side of him, the part of him that’s secretly thinking, “How did I end up with someone like this?”

And yeah, he might not say that, because Geo and verbal affection are basically strangers. But the way he takes care of that plant pot or treasures that opera ticket? 

That’ll tell you everything you need to know.

✑ Cultural Depth 

Geo’s all about his Japanese roots, but he doesn’t go around making a big deal about it. It’s in the small things—the quiet traditions he carries, the way he’ll casually drop some next-level cultural knowledge.

— Sharing His World (Quietly)

Geo isn’t the type to throw you into the deep end of his culture, but if you hang around him long enough, he’ll start to let you in. It’s like a slow reveal in a really good book—you don’t even realize you’re getting hooked until you’re deep into it. 

He’ll start small, teaching you a word or two in Japanese. Nothing too complicated at first—basic phrases like arigatou or ohayou. God writing this is killing me…

But if you’re patient (and don’t butcher the pronunciation), he might hit you with the poetic, meaningful stuff. Like, “The moon tonight reminds me of home,” kind of poetic.

And food? Oh, he’s low-key a food snob, but in the best way. If he takes you out for sushi, don’t embarrass him by drowning it in soy sauce, okay? He might roll his eyes, but deep down, he’ll think you’re a lost cause. 

Bonus points if you ask him to show you how to make something traditional, though. Watching him calmly explain how to roll onigiri while being so exact about it? Weirdly cute.

— Secret Nerd Side

Geo doesn’t advertise it, but he has a soft spot for traditional Japanese arts. Shadow puppetry? Yeah, that’s a thing he knows. He won’t just show you for fun, though—you’ll have to ask and even then, it’s going to be, like, the most casual display ever. He’ll make a crane with his hands in the middle of a quiet moment, the shadow falling perfectly on the wall, and act like it’s no big deal. 

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, wondering if he’s secretly an 80-year-old trapped in a hot college guy’s body.

Oh, and don’t even get him started on Japanese opera. It’s his go-to when he needs to vibe or think. You might catch him with his headphones in, looking all stoic, and he’s probably listening to something hauntingly beautiful and dramatic. But good luck getting him to admit it.

✑ Such Spa Days

If there’s one thing you should know about Geo, it’s that he takes self-care very seriously. This man isn’t just about keeping clean—he’s practically the ambassador of flawless skin. His routine is a whole event, and don’t even think about interrupting it unless you want to be met with one of his signature cold stares.

Geo’s all about precision, from his perfectly tied low ponytail to his smooth, glowing complexion that looks like it came straight out of a skincare ad. He’s the guy who has a shelf full of serums, toners, face masks, and creams, all neatly organized by purpose and ingredient list. Oh, and he definitely uses products with names you can’t pronounce but that sounds expensive. He’s from the rich side of the society anyway…

Sunday nights? They’re sacred. You’ll find Geo in full spa mode, complete with a fluffy towel draped over his shoulders and maybe even some calming Japanese opera music playing softly in the background. He’ll light a candle (something subtle, probably sandalwood or green tea) and go through his routine like it’s a religious ceremony. Cleansing, exfoliating, masking—he’s got it all down to a science.

And don’t get him started on baths. Geo’s baths are an experience. He’ll fill the tub with just the right temperature water, toss in some herbal bath salts or a soothing bath bomb, and relax like he’s starring in a luxurious retreat commercial. He even has a book propped up nearby or maybe a cup of tea to complete the vibe.

The best part? Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just about himself—it’s an extension of his personality. He values control and discipline, and his skincare routine is a reflection of that. Every step, every product, is carefully chosen because it’s his way of staying grounded in a chaotic world.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to be part of his life, he might invite you into his sacred self-care space. Don’t expect anything over the top, though. Geo’s not going to gush about it, but he’ll casually hand you a face mask or suggest a product he thinks you’ll like. It’s his way of saying, “I care,” without actually saying it.

But be warned—if you touch his stuff without asking, he’ll probably give you a look that could freeze fire. He’s protective of his skincare collection, and for good reason. You’ll never forget the day you used his serum without permission and had to endure a five-minute lecture about “proper application techniques” while he looked genuinely offended.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: Geo’s devotion to skincare doesn’t just stop with himself. Oh no, if you’re doing it wrong, he will notice—and he will step in.

Say you’re casually applying his skincare collection one day, just slapping it on like it’s sunscreen at the beach. Geo, from across the room, will stop dead in his tracks, narrow his aquamarine eyes, and calmly say, “What are you doing?” in a tone that sends shivers down your spine. Before you can even protest, he’s already approaching with that look—the one that says, “I didn’t want to get involved, but you’ve left me no choice.”

Geo doesn’t offer to fix your skincare routine; he takes over. He’s not the type to sugarcoat it either. “You’re wasting product,” he’ll mutter, carefully squeezing the perfect amount of serum onto his fingertips before gently patting it into your skin. “And you’re supposed to press it in, not rub it like you’re sanding wood.”

And honestly? He’s ridiculously good at it. His hands are steady, his movements precise, and for someone who doesn’t talk much, he somehow explains every step with just enough detail to make you realize how little you knew about skincare to begin with.

Geo is not one for half-measures, so don’t be surprised when he starts rearranging your entire routine. Suddenly, you’ve got a multi-step process you never asked for, complete with double cleansing, toners, serums, and a nightly mask rotation. You didn’t even know what a niacinamide serum was before, but now you have one, and you’re using it correctly, thank you very much.

The funniest part? Geo never complains about doing your skincare. He acts mildly exasperated, sure, but you catch the tiniest flicker of pride when your skin starts glowing like his. 

And while he’d never admit it out loud, he secretly likes having an excuse to take care of you. It’s his way of showing he cares without all that messy emotional talk.

But if you dare to slack off? Oh, you’ll hear about it. “You didn’t put on sunscreen today, did you?” he’ll ask, his tone low and judgmental as he crosses his arms. “Don’t come crying to me when you age prematurely.” And yet, despite all the teasing, he’ll still hand you his favorite SPF because, deep down, he can’t stand the idea of you not taking care of yourself.

At the end of the day, Geo’s skincare obsession isn’t just about looking good—it’s about discipline, self-respect, and now, begrudgingly, making sure you’re glowing just as much as he is. 

In the end, Geo’s love for spa days isn’t just a quirky habit—it’s part of what makes him who he is. It’s his way of maintaining balance, staying composed, and, let’s be honest, looking damn good while doing it. 

✑ So Damn Competitive

Don’t let Geo’s stoic, “I’m too cool to care” vibe fool you—this man is surprisingly competitive. Like, you’d think someone who’s all about calm and control wouldn’t get riled up over a board game, right? Wrong. The moment you pull out a board game or even a deck of Uno cards, you’re witnessing a transformation. Same too…

Geo doesn’t just play to win—he plays to crush. He’s not loud about it, though. Oh no, Geo’s trash talk is subtle but devastating. “That’s an… interesting move,” he’ll say, his aquamarine eyes glinting with quiet smugness as he places his piece exactly where it’ll ruin your entire strategy. And let’s not even get started on trivia night. This man has an encyclopedic knowledge of random facts, and he’ll flex it in the most deadpan way possible.

But here’s the best part: Geo will let you win sometimes—just don’t expect him to admit it. He’ll subtly fumble a move in Jenga or conveniently “forget” the answer to a question during trivia, all while keeping that unreadable poker face. If you call him out on it? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’ll say, completely straight-faced, as if he didn’t just let the tower fall on purpose.

The funniest part is how petty he can get when he doesn’t win. Like, say you beat him in a cooking challenge (because your pancakes were objectively fluffier). He won’t throw a fit, but you’ll catch him side-eyeing your plate like it personally offended him. “Your syrup-to-pancake ratio is off,” he might mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

But his competitive streak isn’t all bad—it’s actually kind of adorable. If you’re struggling with something, Geo will quietly make it his mission to help you improve. 

Trying to get better at a sport? Let’s use Kyūdō, in other words, the Japanese martial art of archery. It started as you’d expect—Geo, all serious and instructor-like, standing behind you to adjust your posture, his hands steady as they guided yours. “Hold it like this,” he’d say, his tone calm and precise. You could tell he was in his element, and honestly? 

He’s kind of hot when he gets all focused like that.

At first, you weren’t great. The arrows went everywhere except the target and Geo’s quiet sighs of exasperation were hilarious. But instead of getting frustrated, he’d patiently explain what you were doing wrong, occasionally muttering things like, “It’s not that hard,” under his breath.

But then something shifted. One day, it just clicked. Suddenly, your arrows weren’t just hitting the target—they were landing dead center. 

Every. Single. Time.

Geo’s reaction? Priceless. He didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel his aquamarine eyes narrowing as he watched your shots. “Beginner’s luck,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

Except it wasn’t luck. You kept getting better. So much better, in fact, that you started beating him.

The first time it happened, you expected him to be annoyed. But instead, he just stared at the target, then at you, and said, “You’ve been practicing without me.” (Spoiler: You hadn’t.)

From then on, Geo challenges you to little games—first one to hit three bullseyes, trick shots, you name it. And every time you won, you’d catch that subtle crease in his brow like he couldn’t quite believe it.

But despite his bruised ego, Geo was secretly proud of you. You’d catch him smiling—just barely—when you weren’t looking, and if anyone else tried to challenge you? Oh, he’d brag like crazy. “She’s the best shot here,” he’d say, completely deadpan, like he wasn’t lowkey sulking about the fact that you’d surpassed him.

Watching Geo try to outshoot you while pretending he wasn’t bothered was half the fun, you know it’s eating him up inside. “Good game,” he’ll say, his tone perfectly neutral, while internally plotting his revenge for next time.

 It’s all part of the charm, though. 

✑ You’re His Safe Space

Okay, I know—Geo and PDA? They’re not exactly besties. He’s not the guy to be all over you in public; in fact, he hates it.

Holding hands? Brings too much attention.

Kisses in front of people? Absolutely not.

He’s got that whole “reserved and composed” thing going on, and the idea of being openly mushy in front of others? Yeah, hard pass.

But here’s the plot twist: when it’s just the two of you? Total cling mode.

When Geo’s guard is down, he’s secretly so affectionate it’s almost like a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Imagine this: you’re just minding your own business—maybe reading, scrolling on your phone, or binge-watching something—and out of nowhere, you feel his arms snake around you. He doesn’t say a word; he just pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder or burying his face in your hair like it’s his personal safe haven.

It’s his way of saying, “You’re my peace,” without actually having to string the words together. Subtle? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Geo isn’t heartless—not by a long shot. He cares so much, he just doesn’t always know how to package those feelings into neat little boxes with bows on top. He’s the type to skip the love letters and dramatic proclamations and go straight to showing you how much you mean to him.

Actions over words, always.

And okay, let’s be real—some of us can relate to that. Maybe feelings aren’t the easiest thing to express, so we see a bit of ourselves in Geo. It’s not that he’s cold or distant; he’s just navigating his emotions in his own quiet way. And when he finally lets his guard down? That’s when you see his true colors.

After pulling you close, Geo turns you around, his hands lingering gently on your arms. His touch is feather-light, deliberate, as though he’s giving you a moment to realize what’s happening. He pauses, his fingers brushing against your lips in a way that sends a quiet thrill down your spine.

His eyes lock onto yours for a heartbeat—then they drop to your lips, lingering there just long enough for you to feel the tension in the air. When his gaze meets yours again, there’s something unspoken in his expression, a question he doesn’t need to say out loud: Is this okay?

And then, he leans in. It’s not rushed or overly dramatic; it’s a simple, slow movement like he wants to savor every second. His lips meet yours softly at first, testing, then growing a little firmer as he presses closer. It’s the kind of kiss that says a thousand things he wouldn’t dare put into words—trust, vulnerability, and a quiet kind of devotion he’s still figuring out how to show.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and steady as he lingers there for a moment. It’s like time stops, and nothing else matters except the two of you in that little bubble of intimacy.

Geo’s not about grand gestures or big, romantic speeches. But this? This is his way of telling you everything. His actions speak volumes, and each small touch, each lingering look, is filled with a kind of tenderness that words could never capture.

And maybe that’s the most Geo thing about him—he doesn’t need to shout his love from rooftops or drown you in cliché romance. Instead, he gives you moments like this. Moments that feel raw, honest, and entirely yours. Moments where he silently tells you, “You’re my world,” without ever saying a word.

Trust me, it’s worth the wait.

✑ Flaws? There’s a few…

Now nobody’s perfect—not even our polished, broody archer. Geo’s got his fair share of flaws, and honestly? They add to his charm in that I-don’t-know-why-I-like-this-but-I-do kind of way. 

First of all, he’s stubborn as hell. Geo’s stubbornness could rival a brick wall and spoiler: you’re not winning an argument against him. Once his mind is made up, that’s it—game over. Whether it’s something as simple as how to fold laundry (he has a system) or something as big as life choices, he sticks to his guns like they’re glued to him. 

Convincing him to budge? Good luck; you’ll need it.

Second, he doesn’t believe in second chances. Mess up once, and that’s it—you’re done. Geo’s not the type to forgive and forget; it’s more like, “You did what? Cool, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He’s incredibly selective about who he lets in, so if someone breaks his trust, they’re out for good. 

It’s harsh, but for Geo, it’s about protecting himself.

Third, picky with a Capital P. Geo’s the kind of person who knows exactly what he wants, and if something doesn’t meet his standards? Nope. He’s picky about everything—his appearance (always flawless), his environment (no mess, no chaos), and even the people he surrounds himself with. 

If you’re lucky enough to pass his “quality control,” congrats, you’ve made it to the inner circle.

Lastly, Geo’s got walls on walls. He’s not about to open up to just anyone, and even once he does, it’s a slow process. He’s constantly watching, analyzing, and second-guessing people’s intentions. It takes someone special to get through that, and even then, he might still keep certain things locked away.

So, What Does This All Mean?

Geo’s flaws can make him seem intimidating and hard to approach, but they’re also part of what makes him so uniquely him. His stubbornness shows his determination, and his lack of second chances highlights how much he values loyalty and his pickiness. Well, it’s just another way he shows that he’s got high standards—whether for himself or the people around him.

At the end of the day, Geo’s trust issues are a double-edged sword. They make him fiercely loyal to the people he *does* trust, but they also mean it takes a long time for him to get there. 

Still, if you’ve made it into his inner circle, congrats—you’re probably one of the few people he truly feels safe with. And that? That’s priceless.

Is he perfect? Nope. 

But would we want him any other way? Not.

✑ Thoughts + Ranting

Okay, let’s get this out of the way again: Geo has serious trust issues. And honestly? Can you blame the guy? He’s been through (we don’t know about) so much that his walls aren’t just up—they’re basically a fortress complete with a moat, a drawbridge, and probably a dragon or two guarding the gate.  

Here’s the deal: nobody really knows Geo. Like, we know he’s loaded, he’s ridiculously good with a bow, and he has a death glare that could probably stop traffic. But beyond that? Nothing. It’s like his life story is classified information, and we’re all just stuck guessing what’s in the classified files.  

So anyway, Geo used to be High Class—fancy, untouchable, the whole package—but then bam some kind of near-accident happened, and he got booted down to the Low-Class building. Can you imagine the whiplash? Going from being at the top of the food chain to the bottom? That kind of thing doesn’t just bruise your ego; it leaves emotional scars. 

And let’s be real, Geo doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to sit down and talk about his feelings and thoughts.

And then there’s Hyugo, Geo’s stepbrother and certified mortal enemy. 

If you’ve played the game, you already know the vibes. Mention Hyugo’s name around Geo, and boom—instant disgust. Like, man doesn’t even try to hide it. His whole face scrunches up like he just smelled expired milk. And then, he hits you with the classic, “Nope, we’re not talking about that.” No explanation, no backstory, just vibes. It’s lowkey hilarious how much he’s committed to pretending Hyugo doesn’t even exist. For me.

I feel like Hyugo has something to do with Geo’s big fall from High Class. Like, maybe Hyugo was the one who caused whatever accident messed up Geo’s status. Was it on purpose? Was it an accident? Who knows! But Geo clearly decided, “Yeah, you’re dead to me.” Now, the name “Hyugo” might as well be a four-letter word in Geo’s dictionary.

And then there’s Crowe—the only person Geo actually trusts. And you know that didn’t happen overnight. Crowe probably had to work overtime, chipping away at Geo’s defenses like he was mining for gold. It was probably like:

Crowe: “Hey, let’s be friends.” Geo: Stares in suspicion for six months straight. Crowe: “Alright, cool, I’ll wait.”

If it took Crowe that long to get through, what does that mean for literally anyone else? Good luck, because Geo ain’t handing out trust like candy.

Now, let’s talk about you. Geo doesn’t say much to you, but the way he just… stares at you? Constantly? It’s like he’s trying to solve some crime scene in his head and you’re the number-one suspect. You’re just standing there like, “Uh, did I do something wrong? Or do I just look suspicious?”

Honestly, it’s so awkward and funny. Like, dude, either spill whatever you need to say or stop looking at me like that. But nah, Geo’s gonna stay quiet, because why use words when you can silently judge someone instead?

That’s the Geo experience in a nutshell.

Maybe he doesn’t trust you because of something to do with Crowe—like, maybe he thinks you’re toying with Crowe’s feelings ouch, judgmental much?. Or—plot twist—he’s onto something way bigger. What if he already knows you’re being stalked by whatever creepy thing is lurking in the shadows, and he’s just keeping tabs to figure out why it’s after you?

Who knows?

But here’s the thing about Geo: in the game, he’s not super complicated to figure out. He’s more of a supporting character—like that mysterious friend everyone secretly simps for but who tragically isn’t dateable. Pain. He’s just this quiet, chill dude with sharp words, killer aim, and a ponytail that probably smells like fancy shampoo. And somehow, he’s still everyone’s type. Go figure.

So yeah, Geo’s like a locked box made of solid silver—fancy, mysterious, and absolutely refusing to open. Respect the whole “keeping it classy” vibe, but come on, man—just crack the lid a little!

We’re starving for answers!

· ───────⋆⋅♤⋅⋆─────── ·

[solxamber]

Hello Miss Sol! I just saw the event and I can't pass up this opportunity to see you write Valentimes stories.

May I please have Riddle, Romantic, with "No Name Yet" by Double Face? https://youtu.be/U8Sb-laqFbo?si=wBDPDKcgILJgCWll

Thank you!

enstars??? in my inbox?? unexpected but love that

"The joy of first bloom" || Riddle Rosehearts

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: No Name Yet by Double Face

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 650

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pre-relationship, Realization of feelings

The rose garden is quiet today. The gentle breeze carries the scent of fresh blossoms, and the golden afternoon light filters through the hedges, painting shifting patterns on the stone paths. It's peaceful—serene in a way that Riddle never quite knows how to handle.

Even now, with the weight of his past slowly loosening its grip, he still fights against the instinct to fill the silence with purpose. His hands remain stiff on his lap, posture perfect, eyes focused ahead as if waiting for an order. Old habits die hard.

But then, there's you.

Sitting beside him, humming some quiet, nameless tune, letting the sunlight kiss your skin without a care in the world. You've always been like this—effortlessly free, your warmth spilling into his life like a season he'd never been allowed to experience.

He doesn't quite understand it. Even after all this time, after everything he’s shown you—his ugly, controlling nature, the temper he barely manages to keep in check, the aftermath of his overblot—you remain. Smiling, laughing, asking him if he's eaten lunch today, if he's gotten enough rest.

As if it’s that simple. As if he isn’t something fractured, something still learning how to exist outside the rigid structure he was raised in.

He doesn’t deserve it.

And yet, he wants it.

He wants to be near you. He wants to hear you call his name like it’s something soft, not something sharp and demanding. He wants to be worthy of the warmth you offer so freely.

But he doesn’t know how.

The thought makes his hands clench slightly, nails pressing crescents into the fabric of his uniform.

You glance at him, sensing his tension, and tilt your head. “What’s on your mind, Riddle?”

He swallows. He could lie. It would be easy—he’s spent his whole life hiding his emotions, curating himself into something palatable. But something about the way you look at him makes honesty feel possible.

“I was thinking about…growth.”

Your eyes soften. “Oh?”

He hesitates, then gestures vaguely toward the garden. “These roses. They bloom so easily, don’t they? But they require constant care, the right conditions. Pruning, sunlight, proper watering.” He exhales, gaze dropping. “I wonder… if there are some flowers that simply aren’t meant to bloom.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. Then, with a thoughtful hum, you reach down and pluck a stray wildflower that’s sprouted between the neatly trimmed hedges. It’s small, delicate—pale blue petals trembling slightly in the breeze.

“Not every flower blooms the same way,” you say, holding it out to him. “Some take longer. Some need different care than others. But that doesn’t mean they’re not meant to bloom.”

He stares at the flower in your hands, his heart beating strangely in his chest.

You continue, voice gentle. “I think you’ve been growing this whole time, Riddle. Even if you don’t realize it.”

His fingers twitch, aching to take the flower from your hand, to hold onto something so simple yet so profound. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as you tuck it behind his ear, fingers brushing against his hairline, lingering for just a second too long.

Warmth seeps into his chest.

Only you, he thinks.

Only you would make him feel this warm.

It isn’t until later, when he’s alone in his room, that he looks in the mirror and sees the flower still tucked behind his ear.

His fingers brush against the petals, delicate and real.

It has no name, but somehow, that feels right.

Because whatever this feeling is—the way his chest tightens when you smile at him, the way his pulse quickens when you touch his hand—it has no name yet.

But someday, he thinks, it will bloom into something beautiful.

And for the first time, he’s not afraid of it.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[leclercsredhelmet]

Mañanas de Café y Mate ☕︎ Franco Colapinto

A/N: hi hi i'm back and with another Franco blurb! i was inspired by one of my favorite songs which i listened to while writing this so here you go, hope you all enjoy reading this!

“Cariño, eres un amor. Cariño pintas en color. Quiero tanto devorarte. Esta vez besarte si es que soy capaz” ~ Cariño, The Marías

Sunlight filters in and the rays hit your face warming your cheeks, a stark contrast to the cold air hitting your skin courtesy of the air-conditioned room. Snuggling closer to your sheets you turn and the usual spot occupied by your boyfriend, Franco is empty. Yawning, you sit up and rub your eyes before looking out the window, the sun is on display and you smile.

“Another sunrise, another day worth living,” you tell yourself and sit up. Your feet hit the cold floor and you stretch before walking to the bathroom. After freshening up in the shower, you take your hair out of the braid and shake your curls which are a little unruly. Before heading out you grab your glasses and open the bedroom door. Making it out of the hallway the smell of breakfast wafts around the apartment, walking through the small living room you see Franco in the kitchen. 

His back is to you and his hands move at a focused pace. Smiling at the sight, you walk further in and hug him from behind. “Al fin decidió salir el sol” he says and you let out a laugh. (The sun finally decided to come out) “Buenos días mi amor,” you say with a chuckle. (Good morning, my love) Franco wraps an arm around you and kisses your temple, “Que raro que nada se está quemando,” you say teasing him. (Weirdly, nothing is burning) Franco looks at you with a shocked expression, “Oye boluda, solo fue una sola vez!” he says annoyed and you laugh because it’s cute when he gets annoyed and his accent is more noticeable. (Hey stupid, it was only one time!) 

“Si ajá, fíjate que ha pasado más de una vez pero está bien tú dices que fue una sola vez” you reply smiling.(Yeah sure, I think it’s happened more than once, but it’s okay that you say it was only one time) “Bueno cariño pero es que vos me pones muy distraído cuando estás aquí en la cocina y me confundo,” he says and you just laugh. (Well darling it’s because you distract me a lot in the kitchen and I get confused) “Ah así que ahora la culpa es mía?” you say indignantly and his cheeks flush. (Oh so it’s my fault now?)

“No, no,no, no, yo no dije eso, la culpa es mía entera,” Franco says and you burst out laughing. (No, no, no, no, I didn’t say that, it’s my fault alone) Grabbing the towel he playfully smacks you. “Joder Y/N, casi me cago del susto,” he says and you laugh harder. (Fuck Y/N you scared me shitless) 

Facing him you stand on your tiptoes and peck him on the lips before turning to grab two plates, setting them on the counter Franco drops in the medialunas, and shakes his hands because they are hot and you giggle. Taking the pan he serves the scrambled eggs and you open the fridge to take out the jams and cheese. Putting them on the table you wink at him as he passes with the plates and he laughs at you. Going to the cupboard you grab his mate gourd and he picks out a mug for you. Smiling, you look at the mug which you had gotten from a shop in Old San Juan, last summer when visiting your parents in Puerto Rico. 

He switches the mugs, making you laugh. You have your coffee mug and he has his gourd, reaching for the Yerba Mate you hand it to him and he passes you the pot with coffee. Pouring the coffee you open the fridge and get some milk which you place in a pot and heat on the stove. Franco is busy making his mate while you make your coffee. “Café con leche y Mate en la mañana,” he says while walking towards the table and you laugh. (Coffee with milk and Mate in the morning) “Somos nosotros si fuéramos bebidas,” you comment and he laughs. (That’s us if we were drinks ) “Tenés razón cariño,” he says. (You’re right darling) Franco and yoi take a seat at the table and as usual, you sit cross-legged. Sipping some of your coffee you wink at Franco who is staring at. “Dios, te ves tan jodidamente radiante en las mañanas con mi camisa, sos perfecta,” (God you look so fucking perfect in the mornings with my shirt, you’re perfect)  he says and you chuckle. Franco places the open medialunas on my plate, “Gracias, amor,” you reply, thanking him for the compliment and for opening the medialunas. (Thank you, love) Taking some jam with the knife you spread it across the media luna and garb another knife to spread some cheese and close the medialuna. 

A sunray comes through and it hits Franco’s face at the right angle, it makes his brown eyes look lighter. “El sol te está dando y te ves muy bonito,” you blurt out, which makes him blush and laugh. (The sun is hitting you and you look very pretty) Reaching over he places a kiss on your lips which lands with a plop and you giggle. Mornings like this one when we settle into our easy routine are some of my favorites. Franco can make any day better with his antics and energetic nature but calm days with him when neither of us has to worry about work is our little blessing. You fall into a comfortable silence while eating, Franco occasionally throws in some comments that almost make you spit out your coffee and by the time you’re done eating none of you have been able to hold in our laughter. 

“Oye amor, que tal si vamos al parque a leer y luego vamos de compras, tengo que ir a comprar unas cosas para el programa esta semana,” Franco says. (How about we go to the park to read and then go shopping, I need clothes for the show this week)  You mile at him, “Suena como una buena idea!” you tell him happily. (It sounds like a good idea!) Standing up you grab the plates and carry them to the sink, feeling Franco’s eyes on you, you smile.

Arms wrap around your frame as you’re doing the dishes and he presses small kisses on your neck, a giggle escapes you and Franco takes it as a sign to keep kissing me and his hands slide under your well his, shirt. “Franco tengo que lavar los platos,” you say as you his warm hands on your stomach. (Franco, I have to wash the dishes) “Solo sigue lavando platos que yo me encargo de los demás,” he says flirtily and you laugh. (Just keep washing the dishes and I’ll take care of the rest) Franco’s lips find the corner of your jaw and he leaves a trail of kisses until he reaches the corner of your lips and kisses you again. 

When the last plate is placed on the drying rack he spins you around and squeezes your waist so you jump and hook your thighs around his waist. Franco looks up at me and you look down at him, his lips press down hard against yours and you kiss him back matching his energy. Your fingers tug on his hair and he groans, “Tenés sabor a café en tus labios,” he rasps and you fight the urge to laugh. (Your lips taste like coffee)  “Y los tuyos a mate” you say.(And yours taste like mate)  Franco keeps kissing you and he squeezes your waist which makes you let out a soft moan. Briefly, you pull apart and your foreheads touch. You were too wrapped up in having his lips on yours to notice that he had carried us back to the bedroom. 

Your back meets the soft mattress and you look up at him to find him staring at you, as if you’re something heaven-sent and that makes your insides turn into liquid. “Sos perfecta maldita sea,” he says and I smile. (Fuck you’re so perfect) “Avanza y ven acá,” you say, your voice has a sense of urgency and he laughs. (Hurry up and come here) Once he’s close you grab his shoulders and pull him down so he can kiss you. His hands are on your sides and lifting the shirt. Pulling apart he lifts the shirt from your head and discards it on the floor.

Franco and you are a mess of tangled limbs on the bed and you look up at him while cupping his cheek. He leans into your touch and then leans down to kiss you sweetly. “Creo que debemos dejar el parque para más tarde por razones obvias,” he says and yoi laugh. (I think we should leave the park for later, due to obvious reasons)  “Idiota,” you say and he laughs before burying his head in the crook of your neck to kiss you there. (Idiot) “Soy tu idiota,” he replies against your skin and his hot breath makes a shiver run down your spine. (I’m your idiot)

The park would still be waiting for you both by the time you’re done but having slow mornings at home full of love with Franco is a rare occurrence and when it happens it’s only right that you enjoy it for as long as you can.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 6]

Hi!

I don’t really know how to write letters because I'm usually just talking to people in person. But Jazz said we can't visit, because we are not invited. I think it doesn't make sense because Sam never invites me, and her parents never do, but it's okay when I come.

Did you like the broom? It's Jack's, he's my Dad. Jazz says it's not very nice to give people used things as gifts, but I didn't have anything else to give you that I think you'd like.

I thought I can send you one of the posh potions I did, but Vlad said I can't, so I sent a broom. Sam won't tell me what she sent you, can you tell me? I really want to know.

Can you invite me so I can visit? We can fly together, and I can show you the twist I learned yesterday. It's not hard, but it makes it so you can fly upside down and it's really awesome, Jazz was screaming when I showed her!

● `Hį • <- sorry for this, Dani found my letter and she is not very good when she writes yet.

I don't know what else to write. Happy Birthday again! Mom wrote the card that we sent you before, so I didn't write it myself that time.

Send me a letter back,

Danny ☆

(p.S. do you like that star ☆ ? I think I want to draw stars on all my letters now, Jazz taught me how to make them pretty)

Hi,

You didn't answer my letter, so I'm sending another one. Jazz says maybe you don't want to answer, but I think she is wrong. Maybe the last letter got lost? If it was, then just know that I wrote you a letter before, and I want to be friends and I hope you liked the broom.

If you don't want to be friends, it's okay, you don't have to. Jazz says I can't make people be my friends. But if you do, can you send me a letter back, please?

I asked if you need to know the address, but Father says Polaris (he is the owl) will know where to take it if you give it to him. If you didn't like the broom, I can send you something else. Just tell me what you like.

Danny ☆

Timothy,

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

I apologize if my previous attempts to reach you have been unsafia unsatisfactory.

Please inform me if exchanging correspondence with me is something you would be interested in.

Kind regards,

Daniel.

—☆—☆—☆—

Pics for  v i b e s

—☆—☆—☆—

Notes on random irrelevant (and a little relevant) things:

There's about a month or so between the first and the second letter Danny sent, and about two and a half between the second and the third. He had Vlad's help with the last one, and he used Masters family wax stamp on it instead of whatever he's found and liked himself. He never received an answer and has not sent another one.

Polaris is one of the two owls that Fenton family has. He is a very nice barn owl, and he is the one considered the family owl, carrying most of their correspondence. Yes, Danny named him. The other owl is Jenkins, Jazz's tawny owl that she takes to Hogwarts.

Vlad has his own snowy owl named Sol. He did not name her after the Sun, even though he doesn't correct people when they assume. Instead, her name comes from 'Соль' [Soĺ] - 'Salt' in Russian due to her feathers being not completely white but kind of looking like sprinkled with salt. It turned out to be a very accurate name since Sol has a rather salty attitude.

The reason why Tim never answered any of Danny's letters is because he never received them. They were addressed to Drake manor, but the house elves there are not permitted to handle mail. Instead, Janet and Jack sort through it every time they visit their estate. It's kind of like a spam filter for them - everyone who really needs to reach them would address the letters to their names personally, and everything addressed simply 'to Drake manor' is probably not that urgent or important.

As to why they haven't been around for long enough that Danny's letters got entirely lost, I'll get to that in the next part. Prepare for a time skip!

[<- part 5 | part 7 ->]

[splinkoplinko]

I'm gonna share some Guilty Gear LGBTQ+ "headcanons" that are most likely canon. Most of these go off of the idea that Elphelt's Magnum Wedding Instakill (MW) doesn't override sexuality.

Despite my claims of these being most likely canon, most things here are not directly confirmed by Daisuke Ishiwatari, ArcSystem Works, or any other individuals involved with the making of these characters or the Guilty Gear franchise and the following should still be taken as headcanon as these are my readings of certain things I've found in the games. You have been advised.

May - Bisexual, possibly confused lesbian - She does, in fact, fall in love with Elphelt here, but has a thing for Johnny, possibly. The thing with Johnny is that she might not actually have a crush on him. From my own experiences, it's possible that May could be overly obsessed with Johnny, and may be misunderstanding her obsession and hyper fixation on him as a romantic interest in him. This idea also makes the whole Johnny and May thing less creepy as Johnny is her dad, and, I believe is supported by one of MW lines being "C-Could this be romance?! Oh my gosh!" implying that how she feels for Elphelt during Magnum Wedding is different from how she feels for Johnny, possibly even completely redefining romance for her, which is pretty huge for someone who's been seemingly romantically attracted to someone for years.

Millia - Bisexual, possible preference for women - She 100% had romantic and sexual feelings for Zato, which he manipulated prior to his death. Because of the sexual manipulation from Zato, it seems that she is not keen on being involved with a man again in any way. However, in MW, she falls in love with Elphelt, even going as far as to say "Have I chosen the yuri route..?" This doesn't really explain the "preference to women" part of this idea, but another quote of Millia's is "This is a whole new world...!" which, at least to me, shows that she experiences romance with a woman in a much more positive way than with a man.

Elphelt - Pansexual - When MW is used against herself, Elphelt says "I-I'll just take anyone...?" So like, yeah. Also she fell in love with herself, that's pretty gay.

Baiken - Bisexual - I'm pretty sure that she and Anji are confirmed to be a thing? I could 100% be wrong on that. However, when Baiken gets hit with MW, she falls in love with Elphelt. Despite that, she seems very reluctant, which could be shown as rejection (which I'll get to because it DOES happen), but I interpret this instead as denial of her feelings. This is further emphasized by her character, being a cold, lone wolf type of person. This can be seen in her platonic relationships as well, in which, only really accepting the company of Anji (possibly not platonic) and Delilah with Delilah being her latest friendship. The idea of her being in denial is in the line, "Won't work. Try to fall for someone el...?!" which, in my interpretation, means that she doesn't believe she's good enough, but is cut off by the sheer amount of love she's feeling from MW.

Jam - Bisexual - She wants to hire "cute boys" (boys she's attracted to) like Ky Kiske to work at her diner. In both Jam's Story ending 1 and Bridget's story ending 1 of Accent Core Plus, Jam actually hires Bridget to work at the diner. While Bridget identified as male then, she now identifies as female, though, that might not mean much. What means much more is her MW line, "Cute girl maybe ok, too." which implies that "cute girls" (GIRLS she's attracted to) would be hired as well.

Jack-O' - Bisexual - Is Aria, wife of Sol Badguy. They're also together in the ending of Strive. Reason that she's bisexual is because she refers to her and Elphelt as a couple in her MW line "Birth of a new-age couple?!" so that's pretty cut and dry.

Kum - Lesbian - When hit with MW, she falls in love with Elphelt as shown by the line, "Romance filter severely damaged!" meaning that, well, romance. Duh. I say lesbian specifically because, to my knowledge, she doesn't show attraction to any men, really just Elphelt, if anything were to come out where she shows attraction to a man or if I missed something that does the same, then I'd say she's bisexual. But for now, she's lesbian.

Venom - Gay - Now for the part that proves that MW doesn't override sexuality and that all of the above characters are attracted to women. Venom is canonically gay, this isn't a headcanon, this is just outright confirmed. However, it's important to note that Venom resists the romantic nature of MW as shown by his lines, "My loyalty cannot be broken!" "You cannot tempt me!" and last, but not least, "Lord ZATOOOO!" The fact that Venom, who in canon is exclusively attracted to men, does not fall in love with Elphelt in MW, means that the above characters DO fall in love with Elphelt and ARE attracted to women.

Bedman - Aroace - Completely rejects the concept of being in love ("Damn witch! You cannot take my heart from me!" "Are you trying to corrupt me?) when hit with MW, and, in one line, exclaims, "You cannot replace Delilah!" which is just comparing the effects of MW to his only other relationship, which is platonic, which is with his sister, which makes me feel like it's not at all romantic or sexual to him in any way.

Ramlethal - Aroace - At first, I thought she could be lesbian, but one of my friends who knows a lot more about GG lore and Ramlethal in specific than me argued that she's Aroace, citing one of her taunts in Strive that implies she has no concept of romance and that it's kinda gross to her. He also said that her saying "Is this my true self?" is about her experiencing human emotions, which she doesn't believe she can do (at least during Xrd's story mode). He, however, did say that as her concept and expression of human emotions develops, things could change, and she may end up developing romantic feelings, but that is not definite. As of right now, Ramlethal is aroace, at least in my books.

Testament - Nonbinary with attraction to men - I don't know if Testament has any attraction to women, but I read their intro lines in Strive with Johnny as them being a thing, as Johnny offers to go out to eat after their fight in one line. Testament is confirmed to be nonbinary though.

Johnny - Bi or Pansexual, though could still be straight? - This one veers much more into headcanon territory, but it's possible that Johnny could be bisexual or pansexual as he may in a situationship with Testament, as I mentioned just above. Testament does, however, present more femme than masc, and does use feminine pronouns alongside gender neutral and masculine pronouns, so it's possible that Johnny simply counts Testament as a woman and is still straight.

Bridget - Sapphic transgender woman - Bridget is a trans woman in canon, however, it's not confirmed if she is attracted to men, women, neither, or both. However, Daisuke once made some very interesting art where May is gripping Bridget's butt pretty strong (which is really just more evidence for May being sapphic), but Bridget doesn't seem troubled by it or anything soooo. Also, of the 2 characters that have special lines when defeated by Bridget in Strive, May gets 2 lines while Bridget herself only gets 1, no one else has a special line at this time.

I-no - Pansexual - Pretty sure she'll top anyone, even people who claim to be tops. This is basically just a headcanon, but apparently she teases both men and women when defeating them, soooo.

BONUS!!

These characters are, in my opinion, heterosexual despite this being contested in some smaller aspects of the community.

Sin - When hit with MW, one of Sin's lines is, "Farewell... virginity..." so yeah, he's straight. Idk, could be bi, but I see no evidence for that. Most people say he's aroace because he's so young, childish, and dumb, but Dizzy fell for Ky around the same age soooo...

Dizzy - When hit with MW, it feels like she's rejecting Elphelt, much like Venom and Bedman, saying "I'm married!" "I'm sorry, I can't!" "I-I have a son..." much less like a denial of feelings similar to that of Baiken. I don't think her sexuality is contested as much as Sin's is, but I still feel like this is worth mentioning.

yeah i think that's it really

END

If you have any other pieces of evidence for OR AGAINST my ideas and evidence, then please share!!! I am open to CONSTRUCTIVE criticism :3!!!

Reminder that MOST of these aren't technically confirmed to be canon, so take these as head canons if anything, not cold, hard facts!! And please, do not be rude about these either.

Also, do not deny ACTUAL canon (Venom being gay, Bridget being a transwoman, and Testament being nonbinary) as that is not cool and disrespectful to the ideas of Daisuke himself!!!

Thank you for reading, and I hope you all have a great day ^^!!!!!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Poor wife reader having a bad day and just wanting to be held but Bruce locked himself in the cave to work and her just “I thought having a husband meant I’d have someone to hold me at night” (not in a mad or petty way just a “I’ve had a bad day and so I’m really sensitive and maybe saying things without thinking or filtering them”) and it shooting bruce right in the heart.

I just want to see bruce learning how to be a healthy partner after shutting everyone out for so long

"Are you alright?"

You glance up from your mug, cradled carefully in your hands and force yourself to smile. "Just a long day."

Alfred nodded, "Is there anything-"

"No, I'm alright, thank you. I'm just going to finish my drink and go to bed."

"Very well," Alfred said. "I think Master Bruce is... preparing for a trip if you'd like me to alert him you've returned home."

You shake your head and card your fingers through your hair, "I'll leave him to it. When I called him earlier he seemed... busy." And grumpy. You add silently. And you can't regulate other people's emotions right now. Today was hell. And Bruce was busy. A case he couldn't tell you about.

When you looked back down at your mug, curled around yourself for comfort, Alfred suspected it was more than a long day. You had a full plate. And it seemed like more was added every day. Meetings, appointments, and now interviews and adjusting to having a very public marriage... He didn't envy you.

Or wonder why you might not particularly want company. Just the breif glimpses he's had into your day to day made him wonder how you didn't pull your hair out. So he took his leave. Letting you enjoy some semi silence and a few moments just to have no one speaking to you. And made a mental note to keep more of that particular tea in the pantry. You seemed to enjoy it more than the others. Or at least... you were most familiar with that one. He shuttered to think what would have passed for tea in your house growing up.

____________

When you slipped into the bedroom, rubbing your neck, Brucce looked up from his packing.

He might be going to Dubai as Batman but... Who knew if Bruce Wayne could smooth some things over for him. It happened like that some times.

"I didn't know you were home," he said blinking. "I thought you had a late meeting."

"I wasn't feeling well," you shrug. "I just wanted-" You break off. What you wanted was to curl up in his lap and go to sleep. But. If he was getting ready to go there was no point.

"Sweetheart," he said, frowning slightly, "If this is about earlier-"

"When you hung up on me? No."

"I had another call- Hal-"

"You're a part time super hero. I get it. I just-"

"Spit it out," he prompted, smiling a little. You didn't want to hurt his feelings. And you were tired.

"I just wish I didn't feel like a part time wife."

That hurt. And he tried not to let it show on his face, but it must have. Because you winced and started stammering apologies.

"Oh sweetheart," he sighed. He knew you'd been lonely. Almost from the start. As soon as the honeymoon was over and real life slammed back into focus.

"I know Gotham has to come first. And the the Justice League but I just... I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything."

He can see you bracing for a fight. That you were reading his body language and it told you he was angry. Yours of experience telling you that he could hurt you. That he could use things you'd told him in vulnerable moments to smack you back in line- and that you're ready to roll over to avoid the pain- and that hurts too.

Because he is angry. But not at you.

All you ever wanted was him. His time. His attention. All the gifts he bought for you were nice. You appreciated them. But all you wanted was a quiet night in, half asleep on his chest.

No diamonds, new cars, or fancy dinners would do that for you. He could hand you his credit card and send you to Paris on a shopping spree and you MIGHT buy something but- more probably you'd just shrug and go look for a stand that sold fresh pastry. It was one of the things he loved about you. You'd learned to march to the beat of your own drum. To love generously. And that's why as you stood there apologizing, all he could do was let the words wash over him.

"You should come first," he corrected.

"Bruce-"

"No listen," he said, crossing the floor to you carefully and taking your hands. "You should come first. And I'm sorry that you can't right now. I'm going to make it up to you-"

"You don't have to," you murmur, looking away.

"Yes, I do," he said, tilting your chin up slowly. "I don't know how. Or when. But I'm going to make this right."

"I'm a big girl, I understand that you have responsibilities-"

"And taking care of you is one of them," he reminded, pulling you against his chest and hoping that he could hug you hard enough to make you understand."And it's an honor. And a privlige. And a responsibility all that the same time. You shouldn't feel like a part time wife, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry-"

"I'm not," he said simply. "Because now that I know there's a problem I can fix it."

[chungledown-bimothy]

buddy's kind of heartbreaking, actually.

no question, the kid's a victim of a cult, and because of that, he was targeted as easily manipulable for whatever scheme kipperlilly's going going on with sol/helio and raising dead gods.

his worldview is narrow-minded, black and white, and filtered through some deeply harmful lenses, but there's naivety and innocence there, too. unquestioning belief that people's lives would get infinitely better if they listened to him. that he is doing good for the world.

i'd be shocked if he has any idea of what the rest of his party is really up to.

[softbabyfeferi]

hhi do u lske erisolkat if uve made stuff of them already thbenSORRY i havent checked but umm cdoul u make agere hcs of the three of them if u hvaent already heh thankyou :-)

hihi you have no clue how excited i am about this req my main is literally @erisolkat omg

erisolkat agere hcs!!

🦈 kitkat n sollux switch between being cgs and littles but eridan is just a little. when kar n sol regress at the same time he freaks out or he regresses as well and its like a playdate

🐝 karkat loses all his volume control when he regresses and eridan will cry at anything then karkat will cry because eridan is crying and sollux isnt the best at comforting them so he scrambles for whatever he can do to help lol

🦀 its not super kiddo friendly but karkat still loves loves loves watching romcoms when hes little. so sol and eridan just patiently watch them with him. and he doesn't have his filter up so he jus watches happily rather than getting mad

🦈 sollux doesn't regress nearly as much as the other two, he doesn't let himself, but sometimes when he gets really stressed he does get little

🐝 eridan can be anywhere between 1 sweep and 3 sweeps, karkat tends to end up from 2 sweeps to 3 and a half sweeps, and sollux tends to regress to 3 and a half to 4 and a half sweeps (though a couple times hes been Really Stressed and got super little like 2 sweeps. made karkat n eridan promise not to mention it ever)

🦀 sollux's favorite activity when he's little tends to be troll minecraft. he likes to make those bee houses i dont remember what theyre called APIARIES. he likes to make big apiaries :]

🦈 they all get very sleepy when regressed. big cuddle piles in the rumpusblock with all of them asleep. the other trolls will walk by and not even notice it cause this happens a lot

🐝 nobody really has the coordination or attention span to make food when even one of them is regressed so they all tend to live off snack foods lol

🦀 plushies yay. its predictable but they have plushies aligned with the emojis i used actually- a crab a bee and a troll blahaj from troll ikea

[juststoriesintheend]

II. Bulabird

Chapter Pairing(s): Master Sol x f!Reader; Osha Aniseya x f!Reader

Chapter Content: reunion, unrequited to requited feelings, love admissions (kind of), sex pollen, consent talk

Word Count: 3,846

《 [series masterlist] 》 《 I 》 《 III 》 《 IV 》

Your eyelids make an awful scratching sound when they open and your vision is flawed, blurry as if filtered through a screen, but the image you fix upon remains as familiar to you as your own reflection.

“Hey, bulabird.”

There are few things in this galaxy you know as well as you know yourself. The Force, the Temple, the way Sol’s hair spirals in on itself when damp, the weight of your saber in your palm… But you never thought you would know the sound of Osha Aniseya’s voice again.

“‘sha?” Your voice comes out garbled when the weight of your tongue proves too heavy to counter.

Through the haze, you think you glimpse a smile and the sheen of artificial lighting on nut brown skin. It’s hard to tell. Everything feels confused, as if the galaxy has been painted over with a great brush and left only smudges of reality in its wake. The light catches on something vaguely hand-shaped, and your body confirms it moments later when Osha’s knuckles brush your temple. It burns like a brand on your skin, but it brings with it the aftertaste of pleasure like candle wax on your fingertips or an itch scratched just right, and you chase after it, face dipping low to catch her palm when she starts to withdraw.

“What happened to you?” she murmurs.

You wish you knew. Your mind has been lost to itself for what seems like an eternity, but then, anything that exists outside of this singular moment feels as unreal as a dream. There’s only the fever raging beneath your skin and the bite of relief that Osha’s touch brings.

“Don’t,” you rumble when she tries again to extract herself. Your fingers are desperate in their attempts to wrap around her arm, to twine themselves with hers, anything so long as she stays. “Hurts.”

Something shifts above you and a whiff of her scent floods your senses - sweat and sand and everything Osha. It takes you a moment to realize that the strange sound of moaning is coming from you.

Her hand smacks against your cheek when you finally manage to drag her back to you, the force of your need nearly flattening her atop your body, and the sweetness of it shoots ice through your veins. This is what you needed, this whisper of skin on skin to soothe the agony of your clothing and the heat and the eternal suffering of this Force forsaken planet.

“Woah, hey, easy there-”

“You make it better,” you try to explain, all while rubbing your face into the rigid flatness of her palm.

A few fleeting seconds of tranquility shudder through your bones before Osha is retreating again, though she doesn’t go far. Her palm shifts to your forehead where sweat has beaded so heavily that it’s pooling along your hairline, dripping slowly down the back of your head to your neck. She exhales through her nose and it hits you just below your eyes. Another strange sense of relief floods through you. Like the kind when Sol had caught you at the base of that sand dune, when he’d saved you. Something so deep within you that it might as well have been stitched into your flesh.

Sol…

It’s the thought of him that brings you clarity enough to start analyzing your surroundings. Metal and light, somehow both cold and scalding hot. It’s the Polan, you realize belatedly, but it looks so unfamiliar to your eyes, almost alien. Perhaps it’s Sol’s absence that feels so off-putting. You’re so used to his presence that to be without it when you feel so lost, so sick to your stomach, is almost debilitating.

“Where… is he?” you croak.

Osha’s face swims before you, in and out of focus, in and out of thought, but you think she looks sad. Or unsure? It’s so hard to tell when everything inside you seems to be on fire.

“Sol?”

You nod frantically, moaning as another wave of heat crashes over you and beats you back into submission. “He was… He said…” Acting on its own instinct rather than any sort of conscious thought, one of your hands reaches for Osha while the other… “Need ‘im, Osha, I-I…”

Pleasure spikes up your spine when your hand rubs a few soothing strokes against the storm between your legs. And by then, the rest of the universe just falls away. Whatever coherent thought you had, whatever you might have said or done, it’s nothing compared to the blinding relief of steel-hot pleasure and the driving need to take take take until there’s nothing left but your heartbeat and your hope.

Leaving the Jedi behind had been the right thing to do, no matter how it broke her to do so, but leaving Sol and leaving you had hurt the most. It’s why she ran when she realized Mae was alive, though she may not have understood it at the time. More than anything, Osha wanted to avoid all of this - the pain a reunion would carry, the guilt of what once was fading into obscurity because of her, the emptiness of a lifelong yearning for something she could never have. But the Force, it seems, has other plans. At least, that’s what Sol might have said to her once.

Now, though, she looks upon your face, twisted and pained, damp with sweat, and she feels a surge of memories wash over her. The scent of your skin in the mornings when you would walk into the courtyard, meditating together under the shade of the Great Tree. The flash of your saber reflected in your eyes, bright and brilliant. Every small and fleeting moment spent pining after you, hoping you might notice her…

In the present, stuffed into containment within the walls of the cockpit, Sol’s presence flickers in and out of the corner of her eye. She can’t feel him in the Force anymore, but she doesn’t need to. She knows exactly how worry looks on him, she knows it from the years spent inflicting him with her own particular strain of chaos.

“Sol,” she starts, some last ditch effort to talk him down, but the glint of panic in his eyes when he rounds on her is enough to stifle that need.

“No.” He says it in the same tone he used on her once before - just once, so many years ago. It’s a glimpse of something un-Jedi that persists deep inside him, something angry and fierce. Osha thinks he might call it attachment. “Find another way.”

Irritation flares in her chest. “There is no other way.”

“There is always another way,” and she thinks she sees fear in his eyes, some unknown terror that claws at his gut the same way it claws at hers.

He has always been the one to hope, clinging to his Jedi tenets as she once clung to her mother’s skirts. But Osha learned long ago that hope is a fickle thing. She knows what ails you, what pulls you apart at the seams and stokes its fire in you, and she knows there is only one way to save you from its flames.

She sets her jaw. “You know there isn’t. Not this time, Sol. We have to help her.”

“Not like this. It’s not right.”

No. It isn’t. Guilt is a ghost that’s haunted Osha her entire life, but it flares to life now in the face of your predicament because this should never have happened, and it wouldn’t have happened if she’d never run in the first place. Like she might have once been a Knight, a Jedi standing tall and proud at your side if she had only chosen to be a good Padawan. Like Mae wouldn’t have burned their home to the ground if she had chosen instead to be a good sister. This isn’t right, but it’s the only way she knows to save you. And she would rather condemn herself to a lifetime of guilt for saving your life than a lifetime of guilt wishing she had tried.

“I can make something, a drink with a low dose that she can share with- with one of us.” She lowers her eyes at the thought of Sol being the one to take care of you, how it would burn in her chest knowing that he would be the one to… when she knows it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. “And you can burn the pollen off together like you’re supposed to.”

Sol’s face is wrinkled in horror. “No,” he says again, disgusted.

“It’ll save her,” and she finds that she’s trying to convince herself as much as she’s trying to convince him.

Sol pivots so his shoulder is all she can see, but his face is turned toward the door, toward you. She wonders for a moment if he can feel you the way she once did. Like it was second nature. Like you were an extension of the Force, of her own heart, a beacon in the starlight.

His voice is broken when he speaks. “I know it will.” If she didn’t know any better, she would think he carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.

Osha thinks she understands. “Then we have to try.”

Several seconds tick by. The ship is quiet, save for the creaking of the hull when the wind picks up and the muffled, labored sound of your breathing trickling through the door and into the cockpit.

“She asked for you. She wants you, Sol.”

The entire galaxy seems, for a moment, to stop, frozen in place as her words sink into her Master’s skin. She can see understanding swirling across his face, burning him alive as he processes it. “I can’t.”

“Then what? You want me to do it? She doesn’t… She doesn’t want me like that.” Though she thinks of the desperation in your bones and the frantic need to touch her body to yours, the way your heat and glassy eyes and soft, wanton cries set her body aflame, and she feels shameful for wishing that you did. “It would be wrong to force that on her.”

Sol takes a breath that rattles in his chest. “I can’t, Osha,” he says as if the entire universe might collapse in on itself if he dared to sacrifice his pride in return for your survival. “And I won’t.”

Something bitter and icy-hot scalds its way from her stomach to her throat, bile built from the ashes of the love she’s harbored for you all these years and the stench of regret and the festering wound of a child begging to be heard. Sixteen years he’s known you, and for the past six of them she suspects that both of you have become close - close enough to work together on a mission, to stand side by side on an alien planet and seek her out. Do those six years mean nothing to him? Is the devotion that lights your heart not enough for him? Does he not love you enough to try?

“Don’t you understand?” Her fury bursts from her chest like a saber igniting in the dark. “She’s dying! And you won’t even try? Not even to save her life? Sol, she needs you!”

“It is not saving her life that concerns me, but the consequences of my actions if she survives.”

The consequences? Osha stills. A part of her wants to demand a better excuse than that, because what consequence could be worse than letting you die? But another part of her, a part that feels so alive and raw that it hurts to breathe, finds that a half-reflection of itself in the depths of Sol’s dark and distant eyes.

She swallows. “What do you mean?” But somehow, she thinks she knows.

Familiar, umber-blackened eyes flicker with uncertainty and shame, eyes that Osha has known nearly all her life but have never been so heavily tormented as they are now. At least, not since the day she left Brendok. A chill creeps down her spine.

His mouth parts to allow space for words that never come. She loses count of how many times he seems to start a sentence only to silence himself before a single thought is spoken. The torment in her Master’s eyes spreads far and fast like a wildfire, leaving destruction in its wake until Sol is so knotted up in his despair that he stands before her now as little more than a shell of the man she thought she knew. And there’s only one thing she’s ever known that could shake him so deeply. The same thing that’s shaken her to her core a thousand times over.

The realization strikes her in the gut, punches the air from her lungs. She diverts her eyes, desperate to give Sol his privacy in this moment and also to find a reprieve from the shock, but all she can think is that there are too many threads tying the three of you together, too tangled to make any sense of. Because she loves you. And you’ve always loved Sol. And now she knows that he loves you back, but it’s too much too late and all at the wrong time.

Ten years’ worth of growing up a Padawan, of growing up his Padawan, awakens an instinct in Osha that she thought she had matured past in her last few years of freedom. She feels the burning need to ask - for permission? Guidance? Advice? Each idea is more ridiculous than the last because he’s as compromised as she is, both of them struggling against their selfish desires in an attempt to fix an impossible situation. A situation with no right answers and no clear winners. Because even if Sol had agreed to help you, it wouldn’t be in the way you’d want. It wouldn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything, not to a Jedi. And now, to save your life, Osha must place one foot in Sol’s shoes and the other in yours. Keeping her love for you in check while also knowing that consummating her most intimate desire with you will ultimately lead to nothing. Because you are a Jedi. Because you won’t allow yourself attachments. Because she is nothing more than a memory compared to the shining brilliance of the Order.

Accompanied by only the pulsing of her heart and the shaking hesitance of her breath, Osha closes her eyes and makes a choice. The only choice she can make.

“I need you to stay with her. I’m going to find those flowers.”

The unfortunate side effect of being a Jedi is the awareness of one’s surroundings that the Force supplies. Sol can sense the atoms of starlight as they beat upon the Polan’s hull, warming it. He can sense the crashing of the waves along the distant shore and the surge of life that swims below its surface. He feels the breeze as if he were outside, bare to the world save for his skin. He can sense Osha as she retreats, farther and farther away, rushing for the nearest cluster of purple flowers that she can find. And, more prominently than anything else on this planet, Sol can sense you.

Now that he understands what it is that clouds your mind and rips your better judgment from your consciousness, he feels frozen. Because he can feel every. Single. Thing. That you do to yourself, every desperate attempt to soothe the ache that racks your body. It doesn’t matter that he’s isolated himself on one end of the ship and left you behind closed doors on the other. Your arousal is so strong that it permeates the very air he breathes, it seeps into his skin and brands him a traitor.

His teeth grind together, his hands ball up into fists, and Sol employs every meditation tactic he knows to fortify his mind against the onslaught of your Force signature, but in the end, he finds that his own worst enemy is neither the flower that poisoned you nor the desperation in your body, but the selfish desires of his own soul. A selfishness he thought he left behind on Brendok.

Because he would rather not have known. The rest of his life could have been happily spent at your side, even if he could never pursue the secret longings of his heart, the things he only ever dared to dream of. For he would have seen your face in the mornings before classes with the younglings. He would have heard your laughter over dinner. He might have touched his essence to yours in the rare moments of mediation spent in each other’s company, and it would have been enough for him. But now that he knows, now that his love has been almost-spoken and your own feelings practically confirmed, Sol finds that its existence is a blade to his gut.

Horror, guilt, and shame coil up in the base of his stomach, rattling like a snake as he attempts to find peace in the battlefield of his mind. You’re in pain. And when you’re not in pain, you’re pleading for relief from the chaos raging through your bloodstream. It would be so easy to make excuses, he knows. To accept Osha’s offer, such as it is, and claim that he is doing his duty as your friend, as a fellow Jedi, putting your life before honor, before the Code. It would be easy because it would be true; Sol would do anything for you, and there was once a time where he would have done anything he could to get what he wanted. But the last time he’d been so careless with his dreams, an entire coven had been wiped out and Mae…

Indara’s words come to him then, unbidden but a blessing all the same - do not confuse her feelings for your own - and it solidifies his resolve. Your feelings for him do not matter, neither do his feelings for you. He cannot and he will not allow himself to be blinded by something that could never be. It would be taking advantage of you when you have no chance to speak coherently for yourself, and Sol could never forgive himself for taking that from you.

Decision made, he pulls up the hood of his cloak and stalks for the ship’s main exit. He needs to put as much distance between you as possible. He doesn’t want to hear you crying out his Padawan’s name in the throes of your pleasure. He doesn’t want to know what you sound like when you beg. He can’t. He can never, ever know.

“I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Your head lolls to one side as you struggle to maintain some sort of eye contact. A blob of color shaped vaguely like Osha swirls before you, but your head is so dizzy and your throat is so dry, it’s too difficult to focus on anything but the endless, mindless, bone-crushing ache. Still, you try.

“‘sha…” It’s the best you can do.

The top of the Osha blob bobs - a nod, maybe. “I know. I know it hurts, just stay with me, bulabird.”

There’s a ringing in your ears and a mess of damp, sweaty cloth under your back, between your thighs, bunched up behind your shoulder blades. And the ever-present, ever-consuming need to slake your thirst no matter the cost. Your hands slither down your stomach to try and dull its bite, but Osha’s hands are quicker and stronger.

“Stop,” she grunts as she pins your arms down. “Just stop and listen to me.”

You feel your entire face wrinkle with the force of your frustration. “Don’t. ‘sha, it hurts, I need-”

“I know what you need and I’ll give it to you, but have to fucking listen to me first! Okay?!”

A more logical you, more sound of mind and body, might have listened, especially with that tone. But you’re so far beyond logic now. As it is, all you can think about is the fact that she’s manhandling you and it feels really good. Too good.

“You’re sick,” she says some heartbeats later. “There’s a flower here, a purple flower, and the people here use it for their marriage rituals. By itself, the pollen is lethal. It jacks up your blood pressure and gives you a fever that’ll kill you, but when it’s combined with liquid, it becomes an aphrodisiac. Okay? Are you with me? Do you understand?”

You only manage to catch every few words. You’re too busy bucking your hips up into Osha’s leg to properly pay attention, but you catch something about a flower and marriage, and that sounds nice to you. It sounds like something you might have dreamed of as a child, before the Jedi, before the Code.

“Hey.” Fingers wrap around your chin and maneuver your head until you’re forced to look the Osha blob in the eyes. At least, what you think are eyes. Your vision’s been swimming in and out of focus for longer than you can recall. “Answer me. Do you understand?”

You nod lazily, not for any real reason other than Osha told you to and you want desperately to please her. It’s a strange sensation. New and unknown, but you think… maybe you like it.

“There’s only one way I can keep the pollen from killing you, and it’s by making us a… a pleasure potion. Like the locals do for their weddings. And then I…” Osha’s head bobs as she comes sharply into focus. “We have to work the pollen out of our blood together. With sex. Do you understand?”

With her thumb still pressing into your chin, you find it impossible to open or close your mouth without great effort. Or perhaps it’s not her thumb at all but the sudden rush of adrenaline that screams through your veins at the mere mention of “sex”. Suddenly, it all makes sense. You’ve known, of course, that shoving your hands down your pants and rutting against empty air isn’t exactly normal, but it hadn’t clicked in your mind that the animalistic urges pooling in your belly and the flame blazing in your chest were one in the same. You’d sort of thought that maybe you were losing your mind.

“I need to know you understand me.”

Sex. Anticipation pounds hard and heavy behind your eyes. Blood. It burns. Flower. Wisps of purple swirl at the edge of your vision, casting Osha in undulating shades of violet. Wedding. Like new life, new beginnings. Death. Reunion with the Force. You think you understand.

When Osha speaks again, she speaks with the thickness of sorrow and fear and the watery sound of tears. “I don’t know how else to save you,” she whispers.

But your body knows. Moaning softly against the pressure of her weight as it presses you into the floor, you wriggle an arm free and grab at whatever you can reach. “Save me,” you beg with what remains of your sense. “Osha...”

taglist: @wolffegirlsunite

if u want updates on this and other stories, please sign up for my taglist here!

[seekforwarmth]

hello and welcome to this month’s fic rec featuring my favourite works from what i’ve read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —  

໑ I See You Shiver With Antici-- (SAY IT, SAY IT) by @homosociallyyours (G, 666, strangers, meet-cute, the rocky horror picture show references) Harry has elaborate costumes planned for each night of the Rocky Horror Picture Show screenings at the indie movie theater downtown. The cute guy taking tickets seems appreciative.

໑ Lazy mornings by @lvinlou (spanish, E, 1.2k, established relationship, pwp, morning sex) Las mañanas perezosas eran definitivamente las favoritas de Louis. El sol ya iluminaba toda la habitación y un nuevo día ya había comenzado para otros, pero no para ellos dos. Y Louis presentía que, a juzgar por la mirada hambrienta del ojiverde y la manera en que apretaba su trasero, no saldrían de la cama en al menos un par de horas más.

໑ always tell the truth by anditsonlyforthebrave / @HARRYSC1NEMA (NR, 5k, acquaintances to lovers, dentist harry, patient louis) Harry is Louis' dentist and getting a wisdom tooth removed shouldn't be the end of the world.

໑ You Were Always Mine by GoldenSunflouervol6 / @sunflouervol6 (E, 6k, enemies to lovers, a/b/o au, blood, injuries) Prompt 45: A/B/O fic where Louis and Harry have a lot of mutual friends but they don’t get along (mostly Louis doesn’t like Harry). One day, Louis turns up on Harry’s doorstep covered in blood and asking for help. (Inspiration: Prompt #126 from the BLFF 2021).

໑ Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets by Whoopsiedaisiesss / @shining-louist (NR, 6.4k, enemies to lovers, anxiety attacks, mean harry) The one where Louis suffers from anxiety. His rivals with Harry makes this even worse. Until one day he accidentally calls Harry duringone of his panic attacks.

Harry just wants Louis to feel better. He always does.

໑ Leave Like The Summer Breeze by @larringiscaring (E, 6.5k, strangers to lovers, farm au, farmer harry, stranded louis) When Louis and Zayn are stranded in Alabama, a farmer offers them shelter. He just asks for one thing in return.

໑ The Writing on the Wall by @stylinsonwritingpalace (E, 6.7, exes to lovers, teacher louis, author harry) When BookToker Louis receives a gift basket filled with all his favorite sweets, wines, and stuffed animals alongside the new Harry Styles book, he's shocked at the story he finds in the pages.

໑ we can follow the sparks by moon_rose25 / @darkinfinity (M, 6.7, a/b/o au, strangers to lovers, scenting, implied omega drop) “I, uhm, this is gonna sound weird, but my friend is an ER doctor and he kinda taught me what to do in this kind of situation,” the man takes a step closer to Louis, “He said a close presence of an unmated alpha and light scenting should keep an omega from dropping, so I, uh, I can help you.”

or

Louis nearly drops in Harry's bookshop and sparks fly from then on.

໑ Muffins & Cigarettes by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles (M, 7.5k, established relationship, rich harry) Louis pouts.

“You can’t pout your way into this, Louis”, Harry said as he was fixing his tie, watch and rings glinting against the soft sunlight filtering through the window.

“Of course, I can. Watch me.”

໑ Please, don’t say you want me by pjinkfleur / @pinapplouis (T, 9.3k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, royalty, arranged marriage) Prompt 496: ABO/royalty AU. Where Omega Prince Louis is forced to marry alpha King Harry by his father for the benefit of their kingdom. After the wedding, Harry lets Louis know that he didn’t want a mate and to not expect a relationship from him. Since they are already mated, Harry has to officially reject Louis’s omega to break ties. This practice is so taboo that he doesn’t know the omega has a maximum of a year left to live after rejection. As time goes on, the omega gets weaker and weaker.

໑ Hello, my name is Louis by tedtokat / @tektokatt (M, 9.7k, strangers to lovers, mean harry) Prompt 148: Louis is a scam caller. Now this isn’t exactly the job of his dreams, but it pays well enough for him to continue doing it. Louis is a very anxious person, making it hard for him to talk, so he’s very shy when he inevitably scam calls Harry. Harry ignores the scamming, but after a certain number of calls, he’s had enough. Here ensues mean Harry at the beginning, sensitive Louis who doesn’t know what is going on half of the time, and if the author is up for it, autism-coded Louis too!

໑ is ur mother worried? by @outropeace (E, 12k, acquaintances to lovers, college au, fraternity, himbo harry) In retrospect, Louis should’ve seen it coming. Way before, his ex tried to “spice” their sex lives with a threesome, they simply didn’t work as they should, not just in bed but outside of it too.

From early on in the relationship, it was evident that Leo wished for someone different from Louis, not better or more, just different. And Louis was very aware of this, but Leo was his very first love and no matter if said love was nothing more than a memory, it was difficult to let go.

At the end, Louis didn’t have to do a thing because Leo decided to pull the plug in the worst way possible.

He cheated on Louis with Harry Styles.

໑ we can start a family who will always show love by @lvinlou (spanish, E, 12k, a/b/o au, single mother louis, PE teacher harry) "¿Les gustaría pasar por un helado? Quizás podamos seguir esta charla allí".

Alfa y omega se sumieron en su propia burbuja, concretando el flechazo que sintieron al verse por primera vez. Louis aceptó con un leve sonrojo tiñendo sus mejillas. Ambos adultos se sonrieron, sin reparar en la confusa mirada que les envió el adormilado cachorro, quien durante el viaje a la heladería se preguntó por qué su mami había decidido cambiar repentinamente sus planes habituales de jugar un poco y tomar una siesta junto a él.

Sin embargo, no se quejó cuando frente a él tuvo su helado de fresa y chispas de colores favorito, agradeciendo a su profesor y, ahora, amigo de su mami.

໑ part time soulmates (full time problem) by localopa / @voulezloux (M, 12k, enemies to lovers, a/b/o soulmates au, physical pain) sworn enemies harry and louis are soulmates. everything is going smoothly until the pain hits.

໑ Wait until you're sure by tommilfson / @tommilfson (E, 13k, friends to lovers, a/b/o au, best friends pact) Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?

໑ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou (M, 13.4k, enemies to lovers, college au, baseball player harry, physics major louis, arguing) “You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

໑ in deep devotion by ifthat / @lovehl (E, 15.6k, friends to lovers, a/b/o au, mistaken identities) “I think the folk here think I’m an Omega,” Harry voices out loud.

His suspicions began shortly after he arrived to Wright. Wherever he goes, this strange behavior follows. That type of treatment reserved for Omegas.

໑ Bend the Rules by @youreyesonlarry (E, 16.8k, friends to lovers, chef harry, video game developer louis) Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

໑ give my heart a holiday by Ashisinlove / @ashisinlove28 (NR, 17k, friends to lovers, university au, bad puns, pining) AU where Louis and someone else both like Harry but Harry obviously likes Louis and is oblivious to the other person with scenes like Harry’s sitting with his legs on the coffee table and the other person wants to walk across and Harry doesn’t see them, so they have to say excuse me, but when Louis wants to cross he doesn’t even have to say anything because Harry sits up, puts his feet down, and gives his undivided attention to Louis.

໑ Wait For Me by cherrygelb / @cherrygelb (E, 17.4k, neighbours, single dad harry, student louis) Moving to a new place always comes with a few challenges. For Harry, it’s trying to start over after his divorce, while still doing his best taking care of his son. Though just like every parent, he is not infallible, so some mistakes are bound to be made, settling into his new role as a single-dad. For his son, Davie, moving means he has to get used to all the changes happening in his life through no fault of his own. Discovering a secret passageway on their new property lets him form an unlikely friendship with the young man and his dog he finds on the other side.

໑ Heart Eyes by @smittenwithlouis (E, 21.5k, enemies to lovers, incubus louis) Harry is a dedicated sentinel with a strong aversion to demons, and Louis is the lovesick incubus who will go to any lengths to win Harry's heart.

໑ Impractical Magic by @crochetsunsets (M, 21.6k, strangers to lovers, curses, witch louis, royal harry) "You're a witch?"

"Yes."

“So all of this–us–it’s all a lie?”

"No."

or Louis and Harry have both been cursed since birth. What happens when they're forced into proximity? Will their curses reign, or will they have their happily ever after?

໑ Death Wish by Speechless / 0__Speechless (E, 22.6k, enemies to lovers, vampire slayer louis, vampire harry, banter) Louis hates vampires, he lives his life trying to kill as many as he can, night after night, year after year.He hates them.Then why the fuck is he kissing one?Again.“I mean it, Harry.” Louis says, into his mouth this time. “You need to get the fuck away from me.”   Based on Prompt 403: If having more chemistry with a villain than with your own boyfriend was a crime, then Louis would be in jail. Or the hero slowly falls in love with the morally grey character AU

໑ There is Thunder in Our Hearts by thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat (E, 39.7k, hellcheer au, acquaintances, cheerleader louis, musician harry) 1986, Hawkins Indiana.

Stoner, nerdy, metalhead Harry Styles sells drugs to the boy of his dreams, seemingly perfect overachiever, head Cheerleader Louis Tomlinson. It wasn't supposed to become a Thing.

OR, a Stranger Things HellCheer au (without all the death)

໑ Define me again by Hazzascul_07 / @hazzascul (M, 54.3k, established relationship, amnesia au, accidents, read tags and author’s notes) His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring.

What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified.

All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

໑ the face of love's rage by @outropeace (E, 67k, a/b/o au, royalty au, enemies to lovers, murder, read tags and author’s note) Seven kingdoms, two sinners and one big secret.

— rare pairs / categories —  

໑ In The Dark by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 (gen, T, 666, haunted house, choose your own character) It’s the dreams.

He’d be fine without the dreams… suggesting things. If he could face all this - whatever this is - with a clear, rested mind.

໑ Crush by @allwaswell16 (louis/niall, T, 1.4k, co-workers, office au) When Niall stops smiling around the office, his co-worker Louis sets out to lift his mood with the help of their office mates.

໑ it's the summer of our love by localopa / @voulezloux (louis/ryan ross, G, 3k, gym bros, sexuality crisis) ryan is in love with his best friend and gym bro, louis. the problem? ryan is straight.

໑ Got My Chaos Automatic by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 (louis/liam/zayn, E, 3.1k, established relationship, canon) The one where Louis comes home from tour feeling exhausted, yet antsy. Luckily, Liam and Zayn are there to put him back together.

໑ softer than satin by cinnamons / @sunbellylou (louis/joel miller, E, 4k, established relationship, pwp) “Wanna go back to bed,” Louis whispered languidly, voice partly muffled by his boyfriend’s lips on his. “Mm, but we just got up, baby,” Joel murmured. Lips touching softly with each syllable. Hands groping the soft flesh around Louis’ hips, kneading at the skin there and feeling his curves.

໑ Feeling Feline by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 (louis/niall, T, 4877, magical au, animal transformation) “I’m telling you,” drifts through the cracked door, and Louis’ ears prick, twitching with interest. “There’s something wrong with that cat.”

“Have you talked to Liam?” asks another voice, worried. Louis thinks it’s the tall one with curly hair. Taller one. They’re all tall when you’re ten inches high.

“Not medically wrong,” the blond one says. “But I swear, and I know this sounds nuts, but I don’t think he’s a cat?”

໑ lonely in [paris] by f_ckromeoandjuliet / @louiesonlyangel (louis/awsten knight, T, 5.8k, strangers to lovers, canon au, coming out) Summer flings are complicated and healing comes from the strangest places.//Alternate version of Louis's tour where he's in a secret relationship with Awsten Knight from Waterparks. Based on Awsten tweeting at Louis.

໑ if i'm being honest by @disgruntledkittenface (girl direction louis/niall, E, 22.2k, acquaintances to lovers, falling in love, cats)

Niall is perfectly happy in her dating life, always finding a reason to break things off before her relationships get serious. When she finally gets a chance with Harry, her dream girl, their friend Louis makes her promise to give her a real chance. The only problem is that Harry has a cat… and Niall is not a cat person. Instead of running like she usually does, Niall has to figure out how to live with an adorable menace. And when it starts to feel like love, Niall has to decide: Is she ready for the real thing?

Inspired by Must Be Love.

໑ all tumults and feelings by camilevol6 / @svnflouwervol6 (louis/carlos sainz jr, E, 24.4k, strangers to lovers) The search for euphoria in a world that seems to be spinning out of control is perhaps what drove Louis to visit the heart of a city as vibrant as Barcelona. Everything is warm and bright on his holidays, even at night, where he finds solace in desperate lips and comfort in beautiful brown eyes that break his heart by making him realize that he has always been more fond of emerald tones covering the irises of his lovers.

[dragongirlintestines]

Hunger Over Levin-3, Part 1

A vore fic featuring Thorne and Prin (@wolfgirlguts)

Ashvale station, in the orbit of Levin-3, has lain derelict for several years. The only things keeping it functional are the autonomous maintenance systems, still diligently scrubbing oxygen filters and purifying water. Designed to last, the half-mile long series of abandoned habitation rings has become a favorite stop of pirates, mercenaries, and others who would otherwise prefer to lay low for a few days. It's a far cry from the tourist-heavy resort destination whatever megacorp built the structure intended it for.

However, such shadowed corners of the galaxy are ideal hunting grounds for monsters.

Content warnings: Mentions of Sex, Blood, Gore, Graphic Digestion, General Cruelty.

Retro-rockets fire as a lone shuttle makes its final approach to Ashvale station, its raider crew cramped from the arduous journey and ready to spend some time reveling in their recent spoils. The raid had gone easier than expected, and they have some time to waste before they're due to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.

Six bodies cross the umbilical between fuselage and installation, a mix of soft furs, ears of various shapes, and one tough, scaly hide. Two foxgirls, one red and one silver, mischievous grins flashing in the half light. A deergirl with an impressive rack of antlers spins an ill-gotten amulet around one finger, while a bright-eyed rabbit boy follows closely behind, eagerly chatting to her about something. Behind those four, standing two heads above the rest, a broad croc gal trudges, hauling one unwieldy laser cannon over her shoulder. Finally, a wolfman with greying muzzle follows, his walking staff thrumming with arcane power.

"Did you see the way that one looked when we busted down the door?" the rabbit remarks to the doe, "Priceless! I never get tired of those corpos' reactions when they realize they've fucked up!"

One of the vixens turns and smirks back at him, "Maybe we should see if we can get you to make that same face tonight!"

"I think you'd look quite cute begging for your life like that," the other vixen chimes in, moving to flank the leporine young man. A blush crosses his face as he recalls the pair's reputation for needing to burn off excess energy after a raid.

Similar jests continue as the motley crew make their way through slowly rotating habitation rings, finding a cluster of rooms around a common dining hall. It would seem the last residents to make use of the station had a sense of thieves-honor, and kept the rooms decently well maintained before their departure. The halls themselves are silent, lights extinguished except when the approaching party's life signs trigger their activation. The revelrous sound of footfalls and energetic excitement echo back and forth as the pirates set up for several sols of post-raid debauchery.

Not one of them notices as another small shuttle silently glides in to dock alongside their craft.

--

"Ahhh, it was so nice of them to leave that booze behind the bar! I was worried we'd have to dip into some of our own stash tonight!" sighs the red-furred vixen, reclining on a bed laden with pillows. The bunny boy, now thoroughly winded, rests his head on her slightly chubby belly, too exhausted and drunk to do anything about the mix of fluids matting down their fur. Beside them, the other vixen lays an arm across the pair, completing the rabbit sandwich.

"Yeah, and we still wouldn't have to if you hadn't drank half the bar, Shay," the silver fox groans, a teasing grin playing across her face as she gazes longingly into her girlfriend's eyes.

"Shut up, Bella," The other shoots back, flicking her partner's snout playfully. Above them, something creaks in the station.

"I didn't think we were that rough…" Bella jokes, before turning back to her lovers. "Whatever."

"Uggghhhh…" moans the cottontail between them, as he begins to roll off of Shay. "Gotta piss, do you know where the toilet is?"

"Nope! Let us know where it is when you find it!" Bella laughs. "Maybe after you use it. Unless you're into that, Ollie!"

"Ew. No." he deadpans as he disentangles himself from the horny vixen.

"Okie! Take your time, I'll get Shay here warmed up for round four!"

"Those stupid horny foxes…" Ollie thinks to himself as he leaves the room, unable to help but glance back at their still-throbbing cocks. It doesn't go unnoticed, and Shay shoots him a mischievous wink in response.

--

"Where is the damn bathroom?" The rabbit finds himself thinking, as he meanders through the hallways of the derelict station. The thought crosses his mind that this kind of poor design may have been one of the factors that led to its failure as a resort, and he chuckles to himself.

Up ahead, one of the sensor lights flickers on.

"Hello?" he calls out, wondering if one of his comrades was also up and about. As he casually strolls towards the light, it flickers out again, before reigniting when he comes in range.

"odd…" he mutters to himself.

"If I remember tomorrow, I should check that out and see if anything else is malfunctioning" he thinks. He is, at least sometimes, the responsible one of the crew. Finally, his wandering eyes catch sight of a sign, and he sighs in relief as he realizes his search has come to an end.

--

As the heat of the dryer cleans the fur on his hands, one of Ollie's ears perks up, as he hears the sound of footsteps outside the small lavatory. "I'll be out in a second!" he calls, hoping whoever is waiting didn't have to search quite as hard as he had.

Paws still slightly damp, he hurries through the door, and gently closes it behind himself. Turning back around, adrenaline spikes in his veins as he finds his vision filled with a mass of ashen blue scales. A pair of digitigrade legs, each foot tipped with sharp, bony talons ten centimeters long. Behind them flicks a long tail, pale golden ventral scales underneath contrasting with the same blue as the creature's thighs.

He slowly lifts his vision, trying not to stare too hard at the slight bulge in the golden scales and wide hips sitting just above his eye level. The creature's torso is a mass of muscle and flesh, and nestled between her breasts sits a strange device, a grey half-sphere glowing with baleful blue light. Hoses run from this core, most punching down into the flesh of the creature, but as his eyes follow two of them up to its left where they join into a terrifying mess of metal and synthetic muscle. A prosthetic arm, though he considers that it may have simply been an "upgrade" to the flesh it once was, given how its construction speaks of pure violent intent. It ends in a set of three fingers and a thumb, each tipped with sharp, polished points, the whole hand larger than his head. The terrifying metallic claws of the creature's left arm, however, seem barely an upgrade when he compares to the equally terrifying fleshy right arm. The whole body is framed by massive blue wings, tucked neatly up against its back.

Finally, he looks up to the creature's head, crocodilian to a certain extent, with pale ivory horns protruding from a mane of blue hair. Piercing, lightning-blue eyes leer down at him, and a pale red tongue runs along her lips as she looks down, hungrily.

"h… hello." he stammers, before the creature's metallic claw wraps around his torso and lifts him three feet off the ground, slamming him painfully against the door he just closed.

"Hey there, little snack," The creature growls, a wicked grin splitting its lips, revealing two dozen vicious teeth, each three inches long. Pure terror shoots through his veins, and he screams, every molecule of air he can expend tearing out of his lungs in a desperate cry for someone to save him.

Be it through sheer bad luck or a cruel twist of fate, he can hear a fox's scream of pleasure echoing faintly back through the halls of the station.

"Shame," the beast laughs, "you'll need that breath to run." It whips around, hurling Ollie's limp body 15 feet down the hallway. He bounces and tumbles, and feels several of his ribs bruise from the impact. "Get to it, little meat,"

"Meat?" he thinks to himself, unsure if he heard correctly, before the creature's draconic maw speaks again.

"I need to work up an appetite before dinner."

Oh. He heard correctly, he realizes. She wants to eat him. His mind races, the thought that a fellow sapient would stoop to something so taboo. Sure, some sapients would give in to their predatory instincts, but even the most depraved raiders stuck to hunting non-sapient animals.

"What, did I break you already?" a laughing growl peals from the beast's throat.

He doesn't need to be prompted. He needs to get back to his crew. They have weapons there. Victor might be able to weave a spell to bring her down. Or he could just be leading the monster to them. To devour them all.

No time to worry about that though. He needs to run. Now.

His paws scramble against the metallic floor, struggling for purchase. After agonizing seconds he pushes himself up off the ground, tearing down the corridors of the station.

He takes the forks on instinct, first left, then right, right feels correct here; there's no sense of direction, he just has to hope that by some miracle these labyrinthine corridors don't come to a dead end, and that he doesn't end dead.

No such luck. One wrong turn, and he rounds a corner into a common area of sorts. A large window looks out over the infinte void of space, the peaceful horizon of Levin-3 turning carefree down below. It would be beautiful, if he were anyone else.

To him, all it spells is despair. He's trapped here, in this beautiful lounge, with a monster between him any anyone who could save him. He's going to die here. He's going to die and be devoured by some sort of unhinged dragon woman. He's going to die and then she's going to slaughter his crew and no one will ever find their bodies.

No. he's not given up yet. Though the beast's pounding footsteps echo distantly through the station, he might yet be able to hide. He takes a chance to look around, noticing several doors labeled "penthouse suite" around the corners of the room.

He picks one, and to his relief, it opens with a quiet hiss. He dashes through, and finds a button with a padlock icon on the other side. His paw slams into it frantically, and the door gently clicks behind him. The lights in the room turn on, revealing a dusty, but lavishly decorated suite. A couch, table, and entertainment suite are laid out in front of him, with a kitchenette occupying one corner of the room. Through another doorway, he spies a comfortable looking bed, equally lavishly furnished.

He just needs to stay calm, and hopefully that… thing… will leave him be. He doesn't want to think about what that means for his friends, but that's a problem for when he makes it out alive.

Bile surges in his throat as exertion finally catches up to him, and he leaves a mess on the carpet as he retches. Recovering slowly, he tiptoes his way to the bedroom, tucking himself underneath the bed, behind the bed runner. It's sheer, and he can see the door through it, but it's as concealed as he can hope.

--

Agonizing minutes pass, and he can feel reverberations as the massive creature treads her way through the halls of the station.

"Did I put enough distance between us? Did she lose my trail?" Oliver wonders to himself.

The motion sensor lights turn off in the room, and he realizes the station itself kept his trail, writ large in pale LED lighting. A single, heavy footfall shakes the floor, and he knows death awaits right beyond the door.

A surprisingly gentle knock breaks the silence, followed by a mocking falsetto growl.

"Room service!"

A momentary pause that could last a lifetime. A prey animal trapped in its own nest holds its breath desperately hoping against hope that his doom would turn her gaze elsewhere.

"Ah well, worth a try," comes the growl, taking cruel pleasure in its little joke.

Metal shrieks against metal as hardened steel talons punch through the door, tearing through the it like paper. Blue scales fill the doorframe, and the creature stoops to let itself in. It sniffs a moment, then wrinkles its nose at the small vomit stain on the floor. A low, throaty growl escapes its lips, as it scans the room.

Oliver's eyes fall upon it at the same time as the beast's. A clean trail of pawprints in the otherwise pristine carpet of the room.

The beast crouches down, taking its time to crawl towards the poor rabbit's hiding place. "I didn't know you thought of me this way," she croons as she steps slowly, deliberately towards the bedroom. Stooping again through the second doorway, it presses itself to the ground. It lifts the bed runner, making full eye contact with one terrified lagomorph. Her claw lashes out, filling his vision, metal fingers splaying around his ears. He feels crushing pressure around his skull, and wonders if this is the end.

It is not. She pulls him out from under the bed by his ears, pain shooting through his scalp, and he can feel something warm run down the back of his neck.

"nononoNONONO!" he screams and kicks as she lifts him slowly up off the ground, before forcing him down onto the bed. Not too long ago, he remembers dreaming of something similar with a certain vixen, but this is much less desirable. For the second time within the hour, a scream rips its way through his throat, hoarse and ragged.

The monster does not allow it to last. She climbs up onto the bed after him, its lightweight orbit-alloy frame cracking under half a ton of draconic flesh. Her claws wrap around his arms, and those terrifying jaws crack open impossibly wide. He tries to squirm, but his arms are held tight to his torso, leaving only his legs to flail helplessly against the air, while the beast lifts him towards her rows of flesh-rending fangs.

The deathly maw snaps forward, driving daggers into his arms and gut, forcing the last screaming breath out of his lungs. He shuts his eyes, not wanting to stare down the yawning throat that pulses and throbs, eager for meat. It is only when she takes another hungry swallow, teeth this time piercing his soft ass, that he realizes this monster has no intent to chew. Her tounge dances along his abdomen, and a growl of pleasure reverberates up through the throat around him. Wretched, hot air wafts up from within its throat as he feels its tongue play across his body, tip winding its way into gaping wounds, lapping at his freely flowing blood. The agony is exquisite, but he can only manage a tiny whimper.

Again, the creature swallows, her tongue slipping between his thighs to push him deeper down her throat, rubbing against a sensitive nub of flesh. He is cruelly reminded of a joke Shay made about "playing with her prey" when her tongue had been in a similar position earlier that night.

He can feel as his ears slip into her gullet, and his face is pressed firmly into the soft entrance. Another burst of adrenaline kicks in, and his whole body flexes and writhes, raging against the terrifying thought of being digested alive. His arms, now free of the claws holding them in place, desperately grasp at something, anything, that he might use to pull himself out. Too late he realizes his paw has grasped something bony and round. Murderous jaws once again slam shut around him, and his hand is quickly turned to a mangled, bloody mess as it is impaled between dragon teeth. Likewise, his writhing legs are stilled as daggers sever nerves in his thighs, before pressure builds and he can feel a femur snap beneath several tons of bite force.

Her prey now somewhat more subdued, the dragon tosses her head back, letting gravity aid in pulling this morsel down her throat. One leg hangs limply outside her maw, as the still living meat is hungrily dragged into her throat. The rabbit can't even feel as she wraps her tongue around that limb, and lazily drags it down with the rest of him, not a care given for the disfigured mass of flesh it has become.

The throat is crushingly tight around Oliver, but compared to the bite force he had just experienced, it feels downright gentle. Peristaltic motions pull him ever deeper, and he cannot help but whimper, knowing in his heart that there is no escaping now; only slow, agonizing death. As he whimpers, his body shakes, and tears fall from his eyes, mingling with the esophageal mucous surrounding him. The beast's gullet, ignorant to his misery, pulls him ever deeper.

He feels a gentle pressure against his head, which gives way as the esophageal muscles push him into a more open chamber. He gasps, and immediately regrets it. Painfully acidic fumes burn the sensitive inside of his nose, down his throat, all the way into his lungs. A moment later he opens his eyes, another immediate regret. The throat pushes again. His face is plunged into chemical soup, immediately searing his corneas blind. Now panicking in sightless darkness, he can't help but thrash wildly with what little strength he has left. He feels himself fall for a brief moment, and a weight lands on top of him. He realizes that he can't feel his legs anymore.

As he thrashes, he can hear that same rumbling growl from before, only now it emanates from all around him.

"Mmmmm… yeah. I should get rabbit more often…"

He can feel something pushing on the stomach walls, as the beast rubs her slightly swollen gut. To an outside observer, were it not for the occasional bump, it would be barely obvious that an entire sapient had just been tucked away behind those scales.

"Shouldn't have crushed his legs though… they'd probably feel real good kicking in there…" Impotent fury surges through his mind as Ollie realizes she's taking pleasure in his digestive demise.

"Let me out! You fucker!" he screams, his voice hoarse from his previous exertions, as well as the scouring acidic air of her guts.

"Hmmmm… Aww, does food not know its place?" the monster ackowledges him, pure cruel mockery in its voice.

"Why… We're both sapients… You're a monster…" he moans, delirium starting to set in from lack of air.

"Oh I'm aware, you're hardly the first delicious little morsel to call me that."

"You've gotta let me ou- glrk" the poor rabbit's voice chokes as cruel hands force him under gastric juices. Bloody chime quickly surges into his throat, violating his insides. His tongue feels slippery as it begins to melt, and he finds himself unable to speak as his vocal cords sear through.

"Oh, no, I've still got a whole meal to worry about before that…"

Muscular claws push down on the belly, and it clenches painfully around him. He feels burning inside his chest, and pressure outside. Something twitches, then gives. His ribcage collapses, crushing his heart. Sensation begins to fade.

"I wonder if Prin's caught anything yet…" the bunny hears, moments before hopping off the mortal coil.

[chipthekeeper]

Acolyte episode 3 commentary by me, a person with no filter:

- I'm extremely nervous about this one, I'm….not gonna lie. Like in a good way, I think I'm going to enjoy it a lot, but like, tomorrow, when the whole world has seen it, it's gonna be ugly……….Who cares though!

- Alright here we go oh my god, and Mother is the thumbnail so [giggles]

- [creaky old door groans].............I'm terrified, like—

- [weakly] I'm gonna have a heart attack…………Oh it looks like Aldhani [tears in eyes]

- oh pretty tree, pretty birds, oh, maybe not bird, maybe it's a bug. not important

- [pausing for yippy dog next door] Really gonna have a fucking dog, barking right now, what, god, shut the fuck up

- It's too much Aldhani I'm gonna cry

- (hooded figure appears behind the girls) who the fuck is that!?! Oh. Sol?! Oh nooooo…what is happeningggg [nervous chuckling] I have a bad feeling about this

- ooooh! Planets-wha-what [scoffs] I was starin’ at that

- (Aniseya arrives) [gasps] MOTHEEERRRRRRRRR

- “did anyone see them?” “I do not believe so” [snorts] innnnncorrect

- [gay gasping] THERE WE GOOOOOOO [deep sigh]

- hm. Fraught lesbianism, here we go. My favorite genre

- This is just gonna be me doing a lot of hmmmmm

- I definitely keep getting confused, which is which here…….which witch is which

- Man I'm gonna be really mad if she's actually dead. If they did pre-bury these gays…well, keep me from getting my hopes up I guess…

- “Tell her you love her” “i love you” [snorts] yeah, buying it

- “you think you want something different than life in this coven” Are they giving Wheel of Time vibes? Or only because I've watched that episode like..48 times…

- Ugh, the moons!!....Whaaaat?

- Well this answers the question of who's braiding their hair. That's really fun. That's a really cute detail, actually I like that

- Does this planet also have a ring? Wait, that would make sense. We see ssssomebody flying through a ring later? Ohhhh are we coming back??

- (ascension ceremony starting) This is hot, can I move here?

- Definitely bookmarking Brendok as a place to have characters…hang out

- Do they have to climb up the pit? Is that what the ascension means? [laughing at own joke]

- [ears perking up] Unnatural, huh?

- OH my god that’s….The moons are doing the eclipse thing like in the logo hh my god….The red one in front of the blue one….

- [delighted chuckling] ohohoho what is happening….

- Woah! Magic tattoo!!

- *kitten squeaks again* Biggs go lay down. It’s a very tense moment, go lay down

- [doubtful grunt at Indara] You're stationed on that and you think it's uninhabited? Why would you be there?

- Kelnacca, you narc

- Aww Sol. He has instant dad eyes

- Sol no! Put that away–oh. Just kidding

- We don't take children, we just…entice them with toys…..He's like luring her into the back of his van…….She is into it though, so [noncommittal mumbling]

- “There are only four Jedi. Who would miss them?” That's….not good math

- “and what happens when the jedi discover how you created them?” [idiotic 12 year old boy voice] By fucking…

- Yeah, fun little dysfunctional family. I love it

- Poor Oshie…..

- (Tommen/Torbin on screen) I have a…just desire to see Ser Pounce

- (he takes her blood) Testin’ those middies!!!

- (indara explaining the jedi test, “tell us what you see”) A cup! A speeder!

- “she promised she would fail and she broke her promise” She tried!!

- (telling Mae to go with Koril) That's a great idea…

- I was dead wrong about everything I thought about Aniseya but…I fucking...love her

- Oh don't make me cry. Don't make me cry

- No love for your hardass mama though, that’s fine

- Oh my god the stuffies! What are they….

- “i’ll kill you” uh jesus christ! That's going to help you get what you want…………you little psycho…

- Shiiiiiiiiiiit….

- What is this? A vault in their room…….ah. Laundry chute……Seriously, what is this?

- We're not done, clearly….’cause what happened with Torbin and...

- [sees mother lying “dead”(?), turns into sad simba] No, no, get up. We’ve gotta go home….

- What is…[whines] You cannot. That's…….they’re leaving shit out

- “Mae started the fire” How would you know?!

- “You’ll never feel like this again. I promise” Oh damn Sol. Don't do that

- Why was this not twice as long? How am I supposed to wait another week? God!

- [lots of deep sighing] That went by so fast and I'm…..not happy

I was happy actually but immediately desperate for more

[secondsovereign]

[KAMERA BOOTH]

“Ehhh? Old guy? You’re here too?” 

It’s always this with them. Senti once again reaches for Welt’s hand in a crowd chock-full of people, yanking him away from whatever stall or conversation he was enjoying to bask in her presence. 

It’s an overbearing one, truth be told.

“Check these out, aren’t they cool? You can save a picture of me and hang it on your wall!” 

She is, of course, referring to the Kamera booth, which is leagues behind the technology either of them could have in their back pocket. 

“But look here, a cute girl once showed me this. Apparently it’s a popular thing people do in their pictures.” At the snap of her fingers, Sentience distorts their view. A marker drawing of cat ears and whiskers appears on both their faces–red for Senti, yellow for Welt–which won’t be shaken off to matter how hard he turns his head. 

Senti sets the timer on the device, then runs to Reason’s side to make a peace sign. The timer ticks: three, two, one, click! 

WELT STROLLS THROUGH THE CROWDS LIKE A GHOSTLY FIGURE, weaving from view back and forth until he arrives at the sea of stalls that herald a more dated technology. It's always amused the scientist, the myriad worlds that exist amidst the branches of the trees, that seemed to mirror the myriad advances in technology his home has seen again and again. There has long been a promise made by those who safeguard against the corrupting tides of the Honkai, sworn OATHS never to share the information they held on technology lest it invite the same ruin that befell their home in the storied pasts.

And yet, it seemed his students had finally managed to replicate the same methods he'd used years ago to leave Sol behind, as the familiar warmth of Senti's grasp is pulling him to a stall selling a more aged version of a device he's become so intimately familiar with. March's camera has seen its internals replaced by his hand so much that Welt has become intimately aware with the filters the woman beside him is projecting upon reality, yet the smile comes to his face all the same, soft and whole at the reunion with yet another cherished student. "Hello to you too, Senti." A soft smile at the flash before a hand reaches up to gently pat the top of the woman's head. "Enjoying yourself I hope-"

[clearwillow]

Hi, I really love your work, especially the Mating Fever Series. If you are still doing the writer's asks, could you answer:

🍬

🔪 🦷

Thanks!!! I appreciate what you do!!

Hi @serstudiesalot! That's so nice, thank you! Yeah, I can still answer the writer asks!

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I feel like Sesshomaru as a character didn't get a lot of personality beyond "older sibling gets the raw deal" and while I think it's great that fandom has been out there building lore for him, it's hard for me to actively seek out new creations featuring him. No fault of anyone in recent years - but way back when I got blindsided in fics where he was put up on a pedestal at the expense of a lot of other characters, and it didn't sit right. Give him good points, give him faults, make him fart in his sleep, but it's not doing him any good if the only way to glam him up is to dump pig crap on everyone around him, you know? Unless there is literal pig crap and he's set up some elaborate prank, then it's just funny.

But I've seen that done with many characters across fandoms through the years. Like Relena-bashing fics, iykyk

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I've covered merman bullshitting/pantsing lore and looking for guy's perspective on different things, so there's not a lot of other weird stuff I've researched, I don't think? The closest behind those might be searching for pranks as inspiration for the plot of a fic I haven't started yet. Which...there's not a lot of good pranks anymore. It's all about being mean or trying to physically hurt another person, which isn't what I was wanting at all.

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

If you don't have the means to make coffee when the power's out (maybe you don't have a kerosene heater for some reason, don't own camping equipment, etc) all you need is ground coffee, coffee filters, twist ties, a pot of water, a cookie sheet rack, and tea lights.

Place 4-5 tea lights on a saucer, light them, and slide it under the cookie sheet rack. Fill the pot with water and set it over the lights.

Take a coffee filter and put however much coffee in the center. If you've only got a Keurig or some other fancy machine you're SOL I guess unless you can McGuyver it. You're going to bring the sides up of the filter to create a sachet; tie it off with the twist tie. If you want to get the same strength as your coffee machine, make two. Drop them in the water when they're tied tight and cover with the lid.

It will take some time but it does work. I had to use this method when we had no usable outlet in our kitchen after an electrical fire. Don't like coffee? Soup will heat the same way. Or you could brew tea. Just keep an eye on the tea lights and swap them out as they expire.