#he would either go “fuck you and fuck that” and die anyway or send himself in a spiral over honouring wilson vs being done with it all

[coraldonkey1102]

thinking about how if it was any other story, Wilson, on his deathbed, would give house the classic "don't die. live. for me. please" last words. but not in this one. Wilson wouldn't do that to house, he knows it would be a cruelty to give house that choice or to leave him alone in the world. and Wilson wouldn't do that. and deep down, Wilson knows that he's just selfish enough to want to know he's not dying by himself.

[minarcana]

[kisseobie]

piwon if they prefer ass or tits😋😋

p1harmony on whether they prefer ass or tits

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw obvi.. (mdni)

a/n: slowly but surely getting back into the writing grind.. also as a tit enthusiast.. this might be biased lol

𖧷 ₊ ° . keeho

goes without saying that he loves both, but i can’t shake the vision of him in my head where he has you atop his lap, fondling your ass as the pair of you lick at each others mouths.. i know yall saw that video of him at that club grabbing onto some girl’s ass.. yeah i think it’s pretty obvious what hill he’ll die on. doggystyle isn’t his go-to, but when he does have you bent on all fours, he loves to watch your ass meet his pelvis thrust for thrust. drives him insane and he might even transform into intak and become an ass-slapping addict.. who knows! def takes those couple photos with you where he has your ass facing the camera, hands perched on top of it like they were always meant to be there

𖧷 ₊ ° . theo

boobs! although i do think the part that riles him up the most is when you’re covered, aside from the cleavage from your low-cut top that he is very hyperaware of. loves loves loves when you two are in the heat of the moment and he gets the pleasure of unclasping your bra.. that first reveal of your tits unlocks something carnal in him every time without fail. possibly even a tit sucker when he’s feeling more lovey dovey! just loves your boobs no matter the size, and you catch on quite quick and purposely begin to wear tighter shirts that show more cleavage just to watch him struggle to contain himself. if he’s on tour and you send him a few titty pictures he’ll literally jizz in his pants

𖧷 ₊ ° . jiung

another boobie lover!! lowkey can’t imagine jiung being fixated on your ass when your tits are quite literally in his face. his favorite sight, however, is when you’re wearing one of his old t-shirts with no bra on.. the outline of your nipples against the fabric makes him crazy with lust. presses his chest up against you any chance he gets so he can feel the plush of your boobs squishing against his frame.. he’s a simple man.. doesn’t need you to dress up in lingerie (although he’ll certainly appreciate if you do!!), prefers the easier access when you’re braless anyways. probably has a stash of polaroids tucked in his bedside drawer of you, topless, with one of his hands fondling at the flesh… #jiung4boobs

𖧷 ₊ ° . intak

biggest ass lover in piwon sorry.. and he’s not ashamed of that fact either! purposely maneuvers you to where your ass is facing him, whether that entails him hitting it from the back or you riding him. he’s so obsessed with your ass it’s a bit ridiculous.. and the view of it bouncing on his dick, slick connecting the two of you even when you disconnect.. is enough to make him cum with a whimper. sits you on his lap no matter where yall are at, just so he can feel the pressure of your ass on his dick. like i mentioned earlier, intak is an avid ass slapper, even in a non sexual context. just a boy that loves loves loves ass!

𖧷 ₊ ° . soul

boobs 100%.. i mentioned this in another post once but i firmly believe that shota would wanna fuck and cum all over your tits, it’s so dirty but he can’t help his little perverted fantasy, not when you’ve worn the prettiest pastel lace bralette just for him!! when the two of you first became intimate, poor soulie was soooo shy to ask to touch them, to see them. now however, is a different story. fondles and gropes your boobs like they’re his own (they might as well be!). not a huge tit sucker but he does enjoy to paw at your nipples, is so fascinated with the way they perk up when given attention. once he’s seen them, he can’t live without them </3 gets off on his own to just the mere thought of staining them with his seed :(

𖧷 ₊ ° . jongseob

not to be annoying but i can honestly picture him loving both an equal amount. loves the way your jeans accentuate the shape of your ass, but he also can’t deny the effect that the jiggle of your boobs has on his boyish brain when you’re bouncing on top of his cock. doesn’t know where to put his hands when yall are fucking, which results in seob frantically grabbing at any part of you he can get. a big fan of how your shirt rises up at times to reveal your panty-covered ass, and is equally as big a fan of how his hands look placed atop of your tits. just a horny boy that can’t get enough of each and every part of you.. he’s indecisive but he doesn’t care :p

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

𖧷 ₊ ° .

[thelov3lybookworm]

Tolerate It (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Everyting will be okay.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: shes a lil small, but shes here hehe

(also creds to @mybestfriendmademe for giving me the idea for the part about fights and silence 🥹😚)

enjoy!

Azriel had never been given the love a child should have received, and maybe that was the reason he thought himself undeserving of it.

Maybe it was his ugly hands and the way he knew that those hands would taint the beautiful, pure skin of his mate.

Whatever it was, he knew he had fucked up when he returned home to find the house empty, the usual warmth and happy aura that he had gotten used to being gone, the house now back to the desolate place it had been before she came along to light it up.

Azriel had realised how much of an ass he'd been to his mate the moment he left, and then decided that he would apologise and explain his behaviour when he returned home that night.

But then the house was empty, and the whole place void of the things that made him want to call it home, so Azriel had simply sighed, knowing he was at fault as he turned and flew to the river house.

Of course, his sister in law had glared holes into his back the entire time he had been begging Rhys to disclose Y/n's location, and even Rhys looked disgusted with his brother.

Defeated, Azriel knew she would not be found unless she wanted to be, so he decided to return and wait it out.

Just before he left the River house, he ordered his shadows to go search the whole of Velaris for Y/n.

"Leave her alone. Let her think this through. You fucked up brother, now let her decide if she wants to forgive you."

Azriel ignored Rhysand, taking off towards the home he used to share with her, now nothing but four walls and a roof to him.

He knew he fucked up, he didn't need anyone to tell him that.

But still, no one left him be. No one let him wallow in his self hatred and pity.

They made it worse by fucking caring for him.

Cassian would visit Azriel, yell and fight, but then leave him food to eat because Azriel was so busy beating himself up over his actions that he had forgotten to eat anything.

Nesta would visit, starting to clean around the house without a word, and when Azriel would try to stop her, she would just glare at him and say the same few words. She did not like untidiness. I'm doing it for her.

Rhys had also stopped sending Azriel on missions, so that didn't help in any way considering Azriel had nothing to occupy his time with, ensuring him feeling guilty all the damn time.

Her silence made him curse himself more. Being an Illyrian, he was used to fights and arguments, but he wasn't used to being ignored. You either fought it out, or you killed in the camps. There was no other choice.

The quiet was too loud for Azriel, to the point he was convinced he was going mad.

It had been almost a week of him either staring up at his ceiling, wanting to just die, or bawling his eyes out in the bathtub, because then no one would see the tears that escaped his eyes.

Once again, Azriel could not help but think of how if he had just opened up to Y/n, let himself be vulnerable, cried in front of her as he told her of everything he had been through, he wouldn't have had to wipe his tears by himself.

Because then she would have wiped his tears for him, held him through the worst of nights, and kissed his sadness away.

But alas, he just had to continue being his thick skulled bastard self.

As he now stared at the half eaten apple Feyre had shoved into his hand when she stopped by his house on her way to the art studio, his heart stopped.

No. Some of us must stay back with him.

It doesn't matter. He will cry anyway. We must go to her.

She doesn't need all of us right now.

His head whipped to where a couple of his shadows hovered nearby, his eyes wide, breath hitched in his throat.

The apple tumbled from his slack grip.

"What..."

The shadows froze, then frantically hurried away, slipping through the space under the door, the couch, the window.

And Azriel could do nothing but sit back, a broken breath escaping him at the realisation that the shadows had known all along where she had been, but had kept the knowledge from him.

They were, after all, their own being, not to be commanded but placated.

After long moments of silence, Azriel got up from the couch and slid to his knees, his head hung low in defeat.

Please, he begged.

Please.

A startled gasp jolted Azriel from the trance he'd been in, and he raised his head to find himself staring into the eyes of his beloved, the eyes he had tried so hard not to become familiar with in case she saw the truth one day, realising he did not deserve her.

Azriel stared, and stared.

And continued staring until she spoke up.

"Az- what are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked, feeling something- presumably a tear- escape his eye as he glanced around. "I... I don't-"

His shadows hissed at him before he could continue, and he paused.

"I wanted to apologise."

Her eyes, that were hard until now, softened. Whether it was at the sound of his broken voice, the state of his being, or the tears streaming down his face without him realising, he didn't know.

And he didn't care as he took in her form, clad in an oversized shirt- his shirt- and nothing else, her hair unbound and messy, the soft skin of her legs on full display for him.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, where tears now accumulated.

"Oh Az." She mumbled, stepping forward towards his kneeling, hunched form.

"Forgive me my love. I love you, I love you so so much, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Azriel's chest heaved as he reached his hands out, trying to grab at Y/n's shirt, but she walked forward without any prompting. Mirroring his position, she knelt in front of him, tugging him into her chest as his hands scrambled to hold her back, panicked as if she was going to vanish any moment.

It was getting harder to take a breath, tears constantly streaming down his face, any and all air he could take into his lungs escaping in startling gasps, emptying his body, lightening his head-

"Shh, take a deep breath with me."

It was nearly impossible, but he tried. Opening and closing his mouth, trying to get his lungs to work, expanding his chest voluntarily in hopes it would help.

When that didn't work, he shoved his head into the stretch of skin connecting her neck to her collarbone, letting himself drown in the unique scent of his mate.

Finally, his lungs started working again, if only to have her scent dominate all his other senses.

"It's okay, you're okay." She was still mumbling, her body so warm and welcoming as she remained wrapped around him, comforting his cold self.

"It's not." He whispered back, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm-"

"Sorry, I know." She rubbed her hand down his back. "And I am sorry too, for leaving instead of talking it out. But now, I'm ready. I'm sure we can work things out, right?"

He nodded frantically, pulling back to show her how sincere he was being, his head tilted back to look her in the eye. She smiled at him softly, brushing his hair back from his face, quiet understanding on her face.

"It will all be okay."

It will be.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend @stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh @st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium @fandomarchiveilyd

Tolerate it taglist: @anuttellaa @willowpains @blackgirlmagicforever @isa1b2h3 @helloevilmuffins @bunnyredgirl @hellsenthero @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @fxckmiup @honeybee54321 @nahimgoodmom @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @sweetcarolina-24 @misskennygirl @macel625 @justyouraveragekleemain @its-sam-allgood

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 2 : Esmerelda Variation

Heaven's outfit at the match:

Note: Thank you for the insane amount of love you guys are showing this. This is still a ground work laying chapter so still a little short but with a bit of drama. I should warn that just like the characters from the movie, Heaven is going to be ambiguous. Sometimes she'll be great, sometimes she'll be toxic (you have to remember she's best friends with Tashi for a reason). Anyways, you will get to know her as the story goes on. Thank you for all of the likes, follows, reblogs and notes, I really love hearing from you all and will be responding to them today. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I wrote it in the middle of the night lol. (P.s. I have a bad track record with tag lists but I'm going to try, let me know if it works.)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams

“You remember when you said you’d let me win this one?”

“That was a lifetime ago.”

Art whips his head to look at Patrick who’s staring out onto the currently empty court, leaning back on the bench with his elbows. “But what about my grandmother?”

“You better hope she has a stroke.” the brown haired man shrugs, patting his friend’s shoulder. “I mean Tashi Duncan is gonna be watching. Tennis princess. And her hot friend. Can’t fuck up, sorry man.”

Art just shakes his head and takes a swig of water. Two hours had passed since this morning’s run-in and he still hadn’t been able to force himself to tell Patrick about the fact that Heaven’s number was on the line too. It’d only be fair, he knows that. But…Art really didn’t want Patrick to have it.

He should’ve just asked her for it directly instead of hiding behind this performance in interest in getting it from her. But he’d been thrown off. He’d truthfully thought he wouldn’t be able to see her again after she announced she had a boyfriend to the group. When he saw her on the beach that morning he found himself jogging down to catch her, and struggling to keep pure thoughts as she talked to him in her skimpy workout gear, telling him she’s single now. 

She was just so pretty. The sweat and the morning sun made her skin glisten. Her smile on her face made her cheeks dimple cutely and drew his attention to her soft lips. And she had this look in her eye. She and Tashi are so different yet so alike. She was asking him if competing was how he wanted to get her number. He was asked to make the choice. But it was the challenge he found swimming in her gaze. Like, there was only one right answer, that she expected him to be able to make the decision himself. Like if he shied away now, the little fire he saw in her eyes would die. 

Heaven was just as into this as Tashi was. 

The thought of her giving that look to Patrick too, it was something he couldn’t handle.

“Shame about that boyfriend though…wonder if it’s serious…Art. Art?” 

Art jolts out of his inner thoughts and focuses on his friend opening his breakfast sandwich next to him. “D’you think Heaven’s relationship is serious? I feel like she was flirting a little. Poor bastard. Sending his girl on the road without him when she looks like that? Fuckin’ idiot. And she’s a dancer, do you know what that means?” Patrick asks, holding the sandwich out for Art to take a bite, smiling when he does and swiping his thumb across his mouth to rid him of some crumbs.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“She’s fuckin’ flexible, Arthur.” He growls, a smirk on his face. “She’s bendy and shit.”

Art’s lip curls in disgust as he shoves his friend, huffing out an irritated laugh when he’s shoved back. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about her like that. Either of them, they’re people, jesus, Patrick.”

“Yes, exactly. Beautiful people. That I would like to fuck.”

“You’re a great guy, man, really.” he sighs sarcastically, tossing his arm around Patrick’s shoulder.

“Thanks man, I really appreciate that.”

Heaven is quiet as she lets Tashi guide her to their seats in the center for the Donaldson v. Zweig match. Her friend had been excited all morning, ready to finally see some “real fuckin’ tennis’. Heaven was excited too. She’s always enjoyed watching people she knows do what they’re passionate about. 

That’s why she’s always loved watching Tashi play tennis. Tashi plays tennis like she’s making love and going to war all at the same time. She leaves everything on the court, like each match is the last thing she’ll ever do. She goes somewhere, and Heaven likes going with her. Passion is what moves her. She’s passionate about dance. A life without it is meaningless.

“You good?” Tashi asks, nudging her knee with her own, grabbing Heaven’s attention.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

The taller girl shrugs, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder with pursed lips. “Just making sure you’re not letting that dickhead Trevor get to you. He’s a waste of time and space in your brain. Can’t play basketball for shit and doesn’t know when to stop.” Tashi nudges Heaven again when she rolls her eyes, facing the court. “I mean, you obviously don’t have to listen to me, babe, I just know you’re too good for that shit. Don’t want you to waste your energy.”

That shit. That’s the shit she doesn’t like about Tashi. When she can’t tell if she genuinely is being her best friend, or is jealous that she’s been sharing Heaven’s attention. The condescending demand that Heaven show no weakness regarding someone other than her. Heaven knows Tashi wants what’s best for her. But she doesn’t own her emotions. 

“Said I’m fine, T.” Heaven huffs, ignoring Tashi’s stare out of the corner of her eye and opting to watch the announcer climb the ladder and take position. “By the way, I saw Art this morning. I told him that we could double the stakes. Winner gets your number and mine.” When Tashi’s reaction doesn’t come, Heaven looks at her to see that she’s now facing forward, smiling almost evilly at the court.

“God, this is gonna be so good. Do you know how horny those guys are? They think the winner is gonna end up fucking us together, this is gonna be a real match.”

Heaven goes to respond but pauses as the men begin making their way onto the court, their names echoing in the microphone as they begin placing their bags down. Tashi finishes signing an autograph for a fan sitting behind them and settles back into her seat. 

Both men immediately seek them out in the crowd, two sets of eyes finding the girls sitting in the center. Patrick points his racket in their direction with a cocky smile before turning to take to the court. Art gages their reactions to his friend, watching both women offer smiles to him and offering them his own wave. A bright grin lights his face when they return it. 

“Boys are so easy.” Tashi laughs through her teeth. 

“Very.” Heaven agrees, crossing her legs as she watches the match begin. Both men are working their asses off out of the gate. The ball sails back and forth across the net. Their grunts ring out into the air. Their eyes tense, sweat dripping, breathing heavy. At first, they were being showmen. Both of them stopping, looking to the stands for the girls' approval only working harder when the most they are offered back is a small nod. 

But they got focused. They moved faster. Worked harder. They forgot them and just played some fucking tennis. And it was sexy as hell. For the first time ever, Heaven was experiencing the feeling she gets watching Tashi play. And she was experiencing it watching someone else.

Tashi was enjoying the game immensely. She loves this shit. This is the game she lives for, and she and her best friend had made it more interesting. She grins as she watches the ball go to Patrick, then Art, then back again. Her head swiveled with everyone else’s and she felt happy. Impressed. 

Until she saw Heaven out of the corner of her eye. 

Heaven sitting on the edge of her seat, looking at Patrick then Art then Patrick then Art. She hadn’t looked at Tashi since they started. It’s normal. They’ve watched matches together before, but this look on her face. That was supposed to be Tashi’s look. 

Biting her lip in focus, breathing slightly elevated in the excitement, one hand toying with her name chain on her otherwise bare collar bone as the other clutched the arm of the chair, arched forward, leaning towards them. 

Tashi shakes her head briefly and focuses back on the match, placing one hand on Heaven’s knee. 

Just in case she slipped from her seat. 

When Patrick took his bow, looking through his dark lashes to see Heaven and Tashi’s reactions. Both of them look pleased. Offering him applause as he stands before going to grab his things. 

Art watches in defeat. The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches it in irritation. He walks off his adrenaline, pacing between clearing his things from the bench. He feels a heavy hand clap on his back. “Good game, man. I’ll meet you out front, yeah? I’ve got a number to collect.”

“Yeah. Good game.” he says quietly. 

Two. Two numbers. Both. He’s getting both. He deserves neither, and he’s getting Tashi Duncan and Heaven Whitlock. 

Art sits on the competitor’s chair, pulling his shirt off and tossing it over his head to shield himself from the sun as he puts his head back. He doesn’t know how long he’s sitting there. But he can’t bring himself to get up. To meet Patrick. To watch Tashi know he’s better than him as she gives him her number. To watch Heaven decide that he hadn’t earned the right to want her.

He doesn’t remove the shirt until he hears shoes clacking on the court. He’s expecting to see an employee of the tournament but is shocked to see Heaven standing in front of him with an unenthused look. 

“Oh, good, I thought you were crying.”

“Um, nope.” Art huffs, a wry smile on his face. “That would be a little pathetic, even for me.”

Heaven’s head tilts, her dark, silky hair falling to the side as she does. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and Art hops out of the chair, offering it to her. “How is almost winning pathetic?”

“I didn’t almost win-”

“He didn’t sweep you. You could’ve won. He’s just better today. When Tashi wins, the other person usually doesn’t even get more than one point.” Heaven pushes up into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. Art can’t help but reminisce. Her legs are now covered by her light washed jeans, but her bare shoulders remind him of the expanse of glowing skin he’d seen earlier this morning. “The score was close.” 

Art smiles slightly at that. He’s still annoyed he was unable to beat his friend, but her words, while based solely in logic, still managed to be comforting. “So, uh, I bet Patrick was pretty fuckin’ happy to get you and Tashi’s numbers.”

“Oh, he was pretty damn excited.” Heaven laughs. “It was cute.”

Ouch. “Yeah, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it.”

Heaven nods, lips rolling inward as she uses her arms to push herself forward, kicking him lightly with her leg, smiling flirtily when he catches her foot, his large hand encasing her ankle. He rights her gold anklet, turning it so that the cross on it is facing upward before bringing her foot back to the ground. “What about you?”

“What about me? I lost. Fair and square.”

“You did.” she grins, resting her chin in her hand. “But the wager changed this morning didn’t it? I agreed that the winner would get my and Tashi’s numbers, but you had an added requirement, right?”

Art’s brows furrowed in confusion briefly before the realization hits him. “I had to earn it.”

“If you’d won, but didn’t earn the win, I wouldn’t give it to you. I have my opinion. What’s yours? Do you feel like you earned my number today?” 

“You want to give it to me anyway?” 

Heaven shakes her head and hops down from the seat, moving closer to Art and fully expecting him to back up, pleasantly surprised when he just tilts his head down to accommodate her height. “I want you to tell me if today was your best.”

Art breathes out heavily. There’s a part of him that wants to just say ‘fuck it, yes’. He wants to say that's the best he can do, and he did earn her number already. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look her in the face and say he couldn’t do better. He couldn’t have her look at him like he didn’t have potential. “No.”

That’s apparently the right answer, because Heaven offers him a quiet, “Good.” before brushing past him, her arm narrowly missing his, causing the hairs on his skin to stand. 

As he watches the girl prance away from him gracefully, Art bites back his own smirk, looking to the ground and nodding to himself. 

He has some work to do.

“Just tell me. I just wanna know.” Art chews his gum, trying to look nonchalant as possible as he and Patrick make their way onto the courts.

He’d been haunted by the way his friend is seemingly getting joy from being very secretive about what he’s been doing with Tashi and Heaven. He knows he’s been talking to them. He can tell. It’s in the smug looks. The fucking half stories without names. He’s fucking keeping them to himself. Won’t even share their names with him. And in response to Art’s irritation, Patrick smirks. The same stupid fucking crooked smirk that always hides his snide remarks and secrets. Usually, Art has a twin one to match, now, the joke is on him.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, are telling me to kiss and tell. You used to be a gentleman, Art.”  Patrick chuckles, grabbing a ball and preparing to serve.

“Just tell me if you slept with either of them.” Art pushes, moving to the opposite side of the net and getting into position. “C’mon, it doesn’t matter. If you’ve slept with Tashi, do a normal serve. Serve like me.” 

Patrick hesitates a bit, shaking his head as he looks at his friend’s determined face. He knows Art is not gonna stop asking. But he’s gonna be so butthurt about the answer. He rolls his choices around in his head, briefly considering if it would piss off the girls for him to talk about it and deciding they wouldn’t care about Art knowing. And, he couldn’t help himself from bragging. 

Setting up the serve and sending the ball sailing over the net, Patrick gives Art the confirmation he was seeking. Art offers him a smile in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and goes to hit the ball, only to see a second one flying past him on his other side.

“Wh-”

Patrick grins again, watching the two balls bounce and roll on the opposite sides of Art. He shrugs, strolling over to the net. “I figured you’d ask about Heaven too.” Holding his hand out in front of Art’s mouth he catches the gum he spits into it. “They…uh fancy themselves a package deal.”

“Really?” Art breathes through the smile he has painted on his face. 

“Yeah.” Patrick squirts water into his mouth. “S’fuckin’ awesome.”

Art just chuckles politely until Patrick turns around to get another ball, using his friend’s distraction to let his smile drop into an aggravated frown.

The next time the whole group is all together is move in week. Heaven and Tashi had somehow convinced the men that even though Patrick was packing up for his tour and Art was also moving in, they needed to help them move into their dorms. They were starting with Stanford today and planned to make their way to UCLA tomorrow to get Heaven’s stuff together. While Art now naturally had Tashi's number because they were going to school together, he and Heaven had stuck to their deal. He hadn't decided what he was going to do to get it. Maybe win a match while she was here visiting in a couple weeks. Or maybe he had to beat Patrick specifically. He didn't know, but he as much as he wants her respect, he was getting sick of waiting.

Both men had removed their shirts in the California heat, carrying Tashi’s tennis equipment, replacement mattress, mini fridge and all ten tons of luggage she brought. 

The women were being helpful too. Heaven was apparently resting her legs in anticipation of her audition tomorrow, and rode comfortably on Patrick’s back up the steps during the first trip from the van. After that the girls had made Tashi’s bed before both climbing onto it and sharing a lollipop as they watched the boys work. 

“No, I want my printer over there.” Tashi calls, popping the candy out her mouth and passing it to Heaven, who is absently scrolling on her phone when she drags it into hers.

“Next time, I want green apple.”

Patrick drops the printer on the desk and turns to them. “You know, people hire movers for stuff like this. Where’s your dad?”

Tashi just ignores him, leaning her head over to look at whatever Heaven is staring at on her phone.

“Men used to build houses, you know.” Heaven says, tilting the device so Tashi can see better. The latter nodding at whatever she’s being shown.

“Mm, and go to war.” Tashi sighs boredly, “You guys can’t carry mini furniture?”

Patrick huffs irritably and looks to Art to back him up. “We’re almost done.” The blond shrugs, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

“You just like kissing their asses.”

“And you don’t?” Tashi calls from the bed. 

Patrick huffs and lifts the printer again, moving it to where Tashi indicated it should go. Meanwhile, Art moves over to the bed finally done emptying the trolley they borrowed from the university. “What’re you two looking at?”

“I’m helping Heaven decide what piece she should do for her audition in a couple days.” Tashi rolls off of the bed and stretches her muscles, “she’s being stubborn.”

Art’s brows furrow as he looks down at Heaven, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, not reacting to Tashi’s criticism at all. She’d known about that audition since before they met them. He’s shocked to hear she still hasn’t decided on a piece. 

“It’s not being stubborn, Tashi-” the girl pauses her movements at the use of her real name, brow raising. “It’s my audition.”

“Okay. Yeah, I just don’t wanna hear you whine for the next two weeks about how you should’ve done Odile from Swan Lake but pussied out because it’s hard and you know you’d complain.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Exactly, babe, exactly. That’s why I don’t get why you don’t just go set the tone.” Tashi chirps. Her voice does that thing. That thing she does when she's pretending she's being casual about something. Going up an octave to show just how much she doesn't care.

Heaven sits up then, a stern look on her face that can rival the one Tashi gives, both hands planted in the bed as she stares the other girl down. “You don’t think I’ll get the lead with whatever I pick.” 

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A dare. The look she gives dares Tashi to say the wrong thing. 

Patrick and Art don’t know what to do. They’d never seen the girls disagree before. They’re always tag-teaming everyone. Tagging in and out of conversations, finishing each other’s quick remarks, cutting people down with sharp looks together. They’d never seen them face off before.

“I know you’d better get the lead.” Tashi shrugs, flipping her hair over and tying it up with a hair tie.

“I’m gonna. Have I ever not?” Heaven sends back. 

Tashi gives her a noncommittal look before snatching up Patrick’s shirt, tossing it into his hands. “Come hit the ball with me.” 

She offers Art one glance. It’s an invitation, very clearly for everyone except Heaven, who was already turned away on the bed, scrolling on her phone again. 

Patrick and Art have their own wide-eyed, silent conversation, finally settling through gestures. ‘You go with that one, I’ll stay with this one, hopefully no one pitches a fit.’

The dorm room door slips shut and the room is quiet aside from the clock ticking on Tashi’s dresser. A few moments pass before Heaven lets out a loud sigh and rolls over, gasping when she sees Art sitting at the desk on his own phone. “What the fuck?”

His eyes widen as he looks at her. “What?”

“I thought you left with Tashi and Patrick.”

He softens as that, offering her a smile. “And leave you by yourself? Nah. Anyway, we’re gonna be playing tennis everyday for the rest of this semester. Let’s go tour my college campus.”

Heaven looks up at the blond man outstretching his hand to her. Part of it is because she’s pissed at Tashi and didn’t wanna be laying here when she got back, but another part of her thought it might be fun to use this as an opportunity to get to know Art more. 

Since she, Patrick and Tashi started hooking up, she’d decided she was satisfied with keeping the set up she had. She had some fun, they dated, and ultimately, there weren’t many requirements. Her focus was just dance now, she wasn’t looking to waste her time on another boyfriend who wouldn’t work out, and going down the exclusive route with Tashi would get…complicated.

But sometimes she thought about Art. She thought about his cute smile and blond hair. She thought about his voice and muscles. And since the match, she thinks about how he played tennis. She could’ve came from watching him play tennis.

A secret she’ll take to the grave, mind you.

But one that led her to walking around campus with him, despite the fact that she and Tashi had agreed she needed to rest her legs before her audition.

Art told her all about the stuff the guide book talked about, showing her the historic buildings, the dorm he now calls home and the dining hall. And somehow, they ended up in the small theater that’s located on the campus.

He smiles, glancing at her, rocking on his feet as they stand outside the building. 

Heaven rolls her eyes playfully, nudging his shoulder. “Huh. I wonder how we ended up here.

“Couldn’t tell you. Definitely didn’t walk you to this…very small theater on purpose.” Art shrugs. “Probably should go in though.” He says breezily, pushing the door open for Heaven to walk through.

As she steps over the threshold, Heaven’s bad mood nearly dissolves. Her tense shoulders relax and her eyes slip closed. Art watches her all but melt into the environment, her pretty features smooth out as she breathes in deeply. “A theater is a theater. I missed this, traveling with Tashi.”

“I’d bet. I’m sure you don’t get much time to dance when you do that.” He says softly, watching her run her hands along the stage.

“Just drills so I don’t get rusty.” She hums. “I’m gonna end up doing Odile. She’s right, it’s a show stopper, guaranteed lead.”

Art sits in the front, center seat, watching as Heaven pushes her way up onto the stage, sitting on the edge. “I’m sure you’d get it no matter what you did. You’re a beautiful dancer.”

Heaven sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve never seen me dance, Arthur.”

He looks at her with an earnest, almost pleading expression that makes her stomach flip. “Could I? Please?”

“Okay.”

Art hasn’t experienced that much of life yet. He’s young, he’s had the same best friend forever. He went to a boarding school for tennis. He hasn’t traveled the world yet or anything.

But he’s pretty sure he would like to watch Heaven Whitlock dance. 

She was in sweats. Unprepared, with no shoes. Though she denied it, she was clearly nervous that her friend would bust in, see her, and it would start round two of their squabble. But she stretches for a moment before crouching to set up her phone. “Do you know what you wanna see or…”

Art blushes at that, he doesn’t exactly know any ballets. He just wanted to see Heaven in her element. “How about you show me the dance you wanna do.”

There it is. The truth. They both know she’s gonna do the dance Tashi is recommending. But right now she’s not here. And Art wants to see what Heaven would enjoy doing.

“It’s the Esmeralda Variation.” She says, untying her shoelaces before pulling her shoes off altogether. “I need something to kick.”

Art immediately pulls his hat off, tossing it up to her and chuckling as she giggles catching it. One tap on her phone and the muffled music is echoing in the empty theater. 

And she’s moving.

And Art can’t breathe. 

He’s never seen anything like it, like her. The grace. The control she has over her body. He didn’t know people could look like that. He didn’t know balance could be so beautiful. It was like, he didn’t even want to blink. He didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

His eyes tracked her body’s movements with precision, but what they really focused on was her face. He’d never seen perfection like that. Peace like that. This was what Tashi was talking about. This is what she feels with tennis, Heaven has dance. She was in a relationship. With the song. With her body. The floor. The audience. Him. 

Watching Heaven dance felt like witnessing love.

She’s amazing.

The dance was fun, playful, and looked difficult as hell. And she did it with ease.

He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stopped, sliding down into a final split with a bright smile on her face. “That’s…you’re beautiful. That’s amazing, what you just did.”

Heaven gives him a pleased look that has him feeling warm. She moves to sit on the edge of the stage, letting her legs dangle as she looks at him. Her hands rest on her knees. “Thanks, Art, that means a lot.”

He shifts in his own seat, leaning forward. He pushes up out of the red theater chair and makes his way over to stand in front of her. “I mean it. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“You’re really good at that, you know.” Heaven says, her voice dropping to a whisper as she looks at him. This is the first time they’ve been face to face before. He’s tall, and imposing despite his accommodating demeanor. She bites her lip and watches his eyes immediately drop before he forces them back to her eyes. “Making people feel good about themselves.”

Art’s startled by the compliment, and immediately starts to laugh it off. Betrayed by the redness of his ears. “You have a gift.” He shrugs. “You should be told you have a gift, all the time.”

He doesn’t know what comes over him. The wave of boldness. It might’ve been that they were alone. Or he was still worked up from what he just witnessed. Or the way Heaven was looking at him, with intensity. Like she saw something. He rests one hand on her leg, feeling smooth skin. And pushes into her space, bringing their faces impossibly closer. Heaven’s big eyes flutter shut as he gets closer, and he smiles.

She wants him to kiss her.

Grabbing his hat from behind her and placing it on his head.

Her eyes open after a beat and she gasps out a laugh, their faces still just a breath apart. “Ha. You’re funny-”

He presses his lips to hers in a brief but deep kiss, pulling away just as she pressed her lips back. “I’m sorry.”

Heaven balls her fist in the front of his shirt, dragging him back to her and making their lips meet again. Their mouths move together in a new dance. Suddenly the room is filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and hums of contentment. Heaven’s hands find their way into Art’s hair as he anchors her waist, pulling her to the very edge of the stage so he can stand between her thighs.

When they pull away their lips cause a loud smack in the dimly lit room. Art’s thumb sweeps over the soft skin of Heaven’s cheek as they both desperately try to catch their breath. Her own hand moves about his curls, smoothing them before sliding to his jaw. Art turns his head to press a kiss to her palm before he speaks.

“Heaven-”

His eyes widen as he sees the girl’s eyes watering, her rose petal lips trembling as she looks at him. Chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She runs her hands through her hair with a stressed look that Art thinks he would do anything to remove.

“Please don’t tell Tashi.”

[chuunai]

I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️

I’m trying I swear TvT

✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu

the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.

Assistants were something he never cared for much.

They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.

No use in actually getting to know them.

All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.

Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.

Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.

A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.

He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.

So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.

Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.

The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.

Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.

‘Single mother of eight month old girl’

There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.

And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.

Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.

Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.

Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.

“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”

Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.

“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“

His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.

“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.

“Dazai. Not sir.”

Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.

“And the baby can stay.”

She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.

Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.

“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”

He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.

“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”

“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”

This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.

Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.

And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.

New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.

Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.

So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.

He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.

His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.

Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.

“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”

Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.

“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”

His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.

“On it.”

And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.

A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.

“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”

The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.

“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.

And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.

“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”

Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.

That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.

He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.

Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.

Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.

And yours.

Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.

Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.

He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.

Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.

Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.

It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.

Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.

It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.

It wasn’t fair.

Nor were his growing feelings.

Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.

He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?

Did you even like him back?

That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.

Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:

‘I like you. Do you like me back?’

Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.

So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.

Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.

That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.

Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.

Tags for everyone who interacted with this post (it’s over 100): @walking-simp, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @heartsfourdazai, @cheriiyaya, @depressed-monarch, @nyxt0t, @baby-tini, @h0nk3rs, @internet-angell, @cupidszvlvr, @owosamu, @my-dear-melancholy, @dazaibae, @nekomafumafufan18-blog, @cvsmois, @lizsano, @nanamiinto, @inojuuy, @reomarys, @mayanakahara, @briiscoolig, @maislovebot, @syona-sachyo, @xieqq2, @angelof-darkness, @moriiko, @fuckthisfuckingshit, @daushu, @wrynue, @amnda-ft-fyodor, @rain-alucard, @hanayoshiii, @moemoekunn, @thatwasa, @miiiloo, @probablyzombiedinosaurs, @mauviese, @chips-and-vinegar, @https-dazai, @rragudoru, @leyla3x0, @cheetozai, @jillyfsh, @rylerboi, @linaaeatsfamilies, @zorizoras, @onlinewhisper14, @komicoral, @anim3-simps, @theoddsinner, @caayye, @scaramow, @such-a-silly-little-gy, @bunnybs-stuff, @psychiclovecollective, @sleepy-yumi516, @fromjas, @suzurans-world, @mrstengenuzui, @mitislm, @tealover111, @edgarallanpoeswifey, @baby-tini, @yaz4luvv, @deliciouscandysalad, @isrealityevenreal, @briefcreationcandy, @astr3eaa, @underscoredaniii, @nolongerhooman, @notalooo, @ratinawetsocksweater, @tomiroro,

Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s

[yuri-is-online]

Soap Operatic Symphony (A Fyuuture Kid AU ft. Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia)

While camping in the mountains during Camp Vargas, you encounter a monster exactly like the one you fought off with Ace and Deuce at the beginning of the year. While trying to fight it off again, a strange portal opens up in the mine and a person jumps out of it to your rescue. He says he doesn't remember much, but it's clear when you bring him to Crowley that this boy is also from your world, despite being a mage, and until the headmage can think of a better solution, he assigns "Yutu" to your dorm.

Something a certain someone has an opinion about.

notes: yeah I have nothing to say for myself, I have other stuff I am supposed to be writing but this wrote itself ok? ok. Anyway this is a future kid au where your son has come back in time to try and prevent the end of the world but mostly to make sure you don't die. You can see this ask for a detailed explanation of what's up with Yuu and my masterlist for other fic. Oh and the other dorms can be found here.

Scarabia

In general, Jamil is going to be torn between being deeply suspicious of the entire situation and feeling like it's none of his business while Kalim is excited to meet a potential new friend.  How they act on those feelings changes depending on who Yutu is trying to interact with.

Kalim- anyone trying to get close to Kalim has to be watched obsessively by Jamil, and Yutu is no exception.  If anything the surveillance is worse due to the strange way he showed up, and Kalim doesn't like it but he understands.  For Yutu's part he seems really receptive to Kalim's efforts to befriend him, which is the furthest Kalim is going to think about it for a while, but he also notices the strange nostalgia and grief Yutu seems to feel when interacting with you and he really wants to help.  He's sure if Yutu would just talk about it, he could give him some good advice.  They get along really well!  But Yutu seems really reluctant to give out personal information… which Jamil really doesn't like. Kalim's sure he doesn't mean anything by it because of how apologetic he is! But he does sort of wonder if he's done something to make Yutu not feel safe around him... it makes him sort of sad.

Jamil- Once he got a look at that portal, Jamil realized that he didn't actually know what it looked like when you arrived at NRC.  He certainly remembers the mess Grim made, but not much about you beyond how confused you looked.  He'll have to ask about it sometime but for now, he's got questions.  Number one: who the fuck is this guy really?  His name isn't Yutu, he sure as shit isn't from your world, otherwise he couldn't be a mage, and his attitude towards you is just suspicious.  He has got to want something, and Jamil is torn between protectiveness of you and his adamant refusal to give himself anymore work.  It doesn't help that Yutu seems very apologetic to him specifically, he swears the kid seems to be apologizing for his entire existence.  It's weird, and he tells him to knock it off because it's not like he's his dad.  For some reason that just makes it worse.

Pomefiore

Vil- Epel is the one to tell him about the monster attack, the portal, and the strange protectiveness Yutu has towards Yuu.  That last thing doesn't bother him as much as you might expect, as soon as he learns that you're from the same world he thinks it's perfectly natural.  Admirable even.  The fake name and desire for privacy doesn't bother him either, as an actor both things seem normal to him.  What worries him is the idea that something very wrong is happening in the background that he doesn't know about, which he makes very clear to Yutu after sending Rook to distract you.  Yutu seems hesitant to trust him, and only offers vague warnings about making sure Yuu stays safe and keeping an eye on Grim.  Well now, they can both agree on that, and wouldn't it be easier if Yutu cooperated with him?  He's not going to take no for an answer.

Rook- Oh?  Ramshackle Dorm has a new member?  What a charming surprise!  He's sure this will lead to many new beautiful experiences.  And he's right!  Yutu is very beautiful, but there's something oddly familiar and yet… wrong about him.  Like he doesn't quite belong here, and not in the same way that you don't belong here.  He looks haunted, his interactions with you scream that he possesses (or to be more accurate used to possess) a relationship that can only have been built over several years.  But you clearly don't remember him, and there's a painful aura of grief in his interactions with you.  He also notices, with a great deal of joy, that the same grief is present when the little one speaks to him.  Just what could that mean? The hunter is in no rush, he'll find out what that means in time, for now he'll keep dropping in unannounced to test Yutu's reflexes. 

Side note: I don't speak French so I don't know if this would be the correct way to say it, but I like the idea of Rook's nickname for Yutu being Monsieur Caneton (Monsieur Duckling), because of how he follows Yuu around. Floyd's nickname I reserve the right to change depending on who Yutu's father is.

Epel- He starts off a hater, I am not going to lie.  Protecting you is something Epel takes a great deal of pride in; he wants to be seen as manly, as the protector, as someone who you think of as cool and trusts to provide for you.  So for a giant portal to open in the sky and drop a new guy determined to protect you from the monsters?  He hates it, he really does, and that's BEFORE Yutu starts living in Ramshackle Dorm.  He's determined to ignore him and not let him into the friend group, which proves impossible because of how Yutu follows you around so fine.  He can sit with you but ONLY IF he accepts that Epel was there first.  Something he's really surprised to see him do?  He should be more suspicious of why Yutu is constantly asking him for advice or acting like he's cool for being so possessive over you but well.  It's Epel he really wants to be seen as cool so he's just not going to think about it.

Ignihyde

Ortho- Ortho wasn't there to see the portal so he can't analyze it, but he can analyze Yutu!  And he immediately finds the Shroud family curse.  How curious, is this something he should tell his brother immediately?  Or should he skip the line and talk to their parents… decisions decisions but he doesn't have to wait for too long for an explanation.  Yutu explains himself pretty quickly when called out and Ortho is beyond excited to learn he's an uncle.  Less excited to learn about the impending apocalypse but he's sure they can fix it if they work together.  Now to double his efforts to get you and Idia together…

Idia- a second person has been isekaid to the NRC oh no.  Whatever will he do?  Well he intended to do nothing but Ortho isn't letting him.  For some reason he seems really determined to get him to hang out with you, almost like he knows about his crush he's been so good at hiding.  He can't complain too much, talking with you is weirdly soothing and much easier than he'd anticipated.  And Yutu's there too he guesses.  Sometimes they parallel play while Idia hangs out with you and that's nice.  It's sort of weird how in tune Yutu is with him though, sometimes he swears they could be related. A thought that Ortho is weirdly determined to encourage, and refuses to explain why... maybe he should be more worried about what anime little bro has been watching recently.

Diasomnia

Right so dragon biology is weird and our knowledge of half fae is very limited.  From how Sebek looks and how Malleus’s birth is discussed, I assume the eggs produced by love is exclusive to dragon fae and other species just get babies in the normal way.  All of that to say:

Malleus- Yutu is an oddity from the jump.  He looks very young, but insists he's around the same age as Yuu, and Malleus swears he feels his own magic is a part of him.  It's like a precious stone has grown some legs and started walking around and talking back to him.  He's a little bit in love, not the same way he's in love with Yuu, but much like a parent would think of a child… perhaps if they get closer he can offer him the night's blessing.  He does seem to be lacking it and that just won't do, something inside him says that needs to be fixed immediately.  Lilia questions him on whether or not he's jealous of how close the little one is to Yuu, which surprises him greatly.  Why would he be- well.  He does wish he could spend more time with Yuu but that sort of envy applies to everyone, not just Yutu.  And none of those guys are so unafraid of him to have made him a friendship bracelet so there. 

Lilia- a mage?  From Yuu's world?  How exciting!  He's very pleased to see how well he gets along with his boys and takes Sebek’s shouting in stride.  It's inspirational how quick he picks up on how gullible Sebek is and immediately starts telling-  well Lilia supposes he doesn't know they're outright lies but the scolding he gets from Yuu certainly suggests they are.  It's all very cute, and something he really wishes he could be a part of, but he knows his time is limited.  He'll just have to treasure these experiences while he's allowed them, something Yutu is very willing to help him do!  What a good kid, he'll have to tell him how proud his parents must be of him.

Silver- A portal, a monster, and a new mysterious person… it's concerning.  Something dangerous has got to be happening with how worried over you this new person is, his name is Yutu?  Weird but then his name is Silver so who is he to judge.  Anyway he introduces himself to Yutu and he asks why he came through the portal and… isn't really satisfied with his answers.  He doesn't think Yutu is a threat, not to Malleus anyway, but there's just something off about this whole thing and it's his task as a knight to make sure the people he loves are safe.  What's that?  Well of course you are one of those people.  You're very important and- why is Yutu looking at him like that.  He's telling the truth, what does he mean that makes it worse? Is it his face?

Sebek- Oh look another perfectly average human who is ok.  He guesses.  Not that he's thought extensively about you personally, only as a precaution to make sure you aren't disrespecting Lord Malleus, you get that right?  Him cornering Yutu with a strained look on his face and shouting at him about how to properly respect Lord Malleus is something he would do to anybody.  It has nothing to do with him assuming that if this person respects Lord Malleus they will be safe for "that human" to be around.  Unfortunately, Yutu is not just anybody and immediately starts yelling back accusing him of disrespecting you.  It's like there's two of them now, just with different biases, rip everyone's eardrums.

[sewerpalette]

Little rant I might make a video out of:

Edit: disclaimer I wrote this directly after waking up so it’s very awkwardly paced and hard to read I’m so sorry.

AL-AN is not a good person, now I’ll start this off with saying that I looove his character, especially before the rewrite and this certainly isn’t an attack on anyone, just something I’d like to point out because I think the shift of perspective between both games is fascinating.

If anyone remembers the subnautica fandom before Below zero was even remotely announced, there were certain opinions flying around, people believed the architects to be the grand villain(s) in the bigger picture of the game lore for just how messed up they were, they literally hated those guys for being at fault of the sea emperors suffering and there were even theories going around that they made the kharaa to wipe out all other life around them- but it had went wrong.

But now it’s not like that anymore, no AL‘s previous actions are completely ignored because he showed some remorse for being responsible for the deaths of 7 architects specifically, together with messing up before pretty much an audience of billions, it must’ve been embarrassing- but when he apologizes he specifically only mentions the other architects, because he isn’t sorry for the other things he’s done, clearly. I mean dissecting a fetus is one thing, especially with their goal in mind, DISPLAYING it is another, like that’s just purposely gruesome. Together with all the other dissected experimented on animals in the shelves just hung up like prizes (I know the concept itself is not inhumane, but in this case it just wasn’t necessary.) also research specimen THETA anyone? Yeah we know it didn’t die because of the facility collapsing because there’s no injury displayed on its bones that would suggest that, and that part of the facilities insides also didn’t collapse, they just left it there until it either succumbed to the virus or starved to death, same with the sea emperor but they survived, kept alive by unfinished business for the next couple thousand years. Not to mention who the fuck comes up with a quarantine program that includes semi sentient killer machines and a giant gun made to shoot anything down from atmosphere, there were so many better solutions, I get the warper thing, I mean kill anything that’s infected makes sense, but the gun?? Literally why, if they send a signal through the network that this planet is diseased nobody is going to go there (we know that at that point humans weren’t advanced enough to travel space and they knew that so for who was that even for??) it was completely unnecessary to create a giant weapon in wich even more destructive weapons are stored wich let me get into that real quick because there’s also some implied stuff there, appearently AL was so desperate to get rid of his mistake that he attempted to blow up a doomsday device?? (Which would’ve destroyed most of the solar system in an instant.) In the entry it says it malfunctioned so they must’ve tried to use it, and even if they didn’t why would they have it on them anyways? Including all the other weapons. Also let’s talk about the architects in the little sanctuaries in the first game, it’s implied they stored multiple souls in like one of them, literally cramped up all their data whilst AL stored himself in a big ass sanctuary like idk man that’s kind of an asshole move. And those were just the first game events! (And there’s probably even more there.)

In BZ he can’t really do anything except for talk to robin because he doesn’t have a physical form, so there’s less to go off here but even then it didn’t seem like there were other sanctuaries in BZ for the other architects. and sure, you could make the arguement that architects don’t feel at all connected to their physical forms, wich is true, but don’t you think seeing a dead architects body, an architect from his team, a colleague, would illicit some kind of emotion from him beyond “great, now fetch me their skin.” (/j) even if he doesn’t see the attachment to the vessel, if it’s all that’s left from that time and from the crew, there would still be projected attachment onto it realistically. Also he was smart enough to hide himself from alterra because he guessed they didn’t have good intentions- scraping himself off the grid both physically and on any radars they had (presumably with hallucinations), but wasn’t smart enough to distract the critters running around infront of the sanctuary to idk get the help he needed with the failing sanctuary from the mercury, marg, or the alterrans that genuinely wanted to help instead of being eaten by sharks right infront of it.

Like man I love you but that’s just messed up.

And we know he knows he messed up, that’s why he’s so gloomy and does attempt to apologize at the end but like??? He said he wanted to make amends to his people showing that he still doesn’t care about everybody else he hurt, only those he deems as important, not the over 150 people that died on the aurora or the mercury or the degasi or the sunbeam or the research specimens or even the alterrans he’s indirectly caused death to, it is all his fault but he doesn’t see these people as important because he feels they are below him - sure you could make the arguement that he didn’t know about the ships that crashed, fair point. But seemingly he did if he could sense that alterra was there without even seeing alterrans in the first place, especially because Ryley has made contact with the thermal plant and other architect tech before, so he’d definitely know- especially based on the data robin has of the missing sunbeam and aurora incident on her PDA wich he has canonically said he read through.

And I’ll say it again I love AL, next to Bart he’s probably my favorite subnautica character in the whole game series, but I don’t like the portrayel of him suddenly being completely redeemed or being an inherently good person, he still doesn’t understand empathy or morals (you can be a good person without having those, don’t get me wrong.) and acts like a total idiot whilst victimizing himself, like yes, the other architects on the mission died and it’s his fault, they weren’t stored to keep him company and that’s his fault; neither did they like him, wich is very fair in my opinion. He can’t pull all this crap, disobey orders and get everybody killed and then pull the “but I’m sad about it so that erases everything I’ve done” like oh my god. I like him, but I would also like more content showing all this.

Sorry this was a very long kinda pointless rant and I don’t have any images because my phone which has like a whole folder of these is at home and we’re still stuck in England so it’ll have to do without for now.

TLDR: I want more morally dubious AL please and also he killed a fetus (well pretty much borderline newborn at that point) so he’s going into the fictional child murderer category for me.

[siriusleee]

23:20

a/n: please reblog I love this piece.

pairing: ghost x medic!reader (hazy) tags: not really romantic, religious symbolism and imagery, dying, gunshot wound, blood, lots of cursing, lots of switching between character pov, obvious ptsd

Part 2 1.8k words

Exodus 23:20 Behold, I send an angel before you to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared.

He's going to die in this alley. Simon lets his head fall back against the brick behind him. His comms are lighting up - Johnny screaming on the other end for backup, for an exfil, for Simon to fucking answer him. But Simon can't; he doesn't know how much blood a human body needs to lose before it stops functioning - (cut through the femoral artery, hit the ribs just right and it doesn't matter because they'll be dead before you can even think about the blood) but he knows he's getting close to it. It's ironic, he thinks, that this is where it happens: some quiet alley in some fucking city a thousand miles from home and not face down in the desert somewhere. A quiet death for a man who doesn't deserve it. 

It would be poetic if he had the brain for poetry.

Simon Riley has never believed in angels. He's seen too much to believe in them. there's been too many he's been too late to save who needed an angel more than Simon ever will - the angels never appeared for them. There is no divine savior coming for him. Johnny isn't going to sweep in and take him to safety. No Price to shake him sober. No Gaz to be the eye in the sky. Simon wouldn't deserve it anyway. 

"-are you ok?"

"-the fuck is that?"

"-grab under his shoulders we can-"

Two sets of small hands grab Simon. He tries to tell them to go away - Johnny'll be here any moment to get him, but he can't articulate the words. Above him, the stars spin in a dizzying array. His feet stumble beneath him; when his knees hit the ground it doesn't hurt. The hands grab at his vest and haul him up. The voices merge around him - he can't make out what they're saying through the ringing in his ears. 

Sorry, Johnny; I won't be here when you come looking.

He can feel his boots catch on the concrete below him as he's being dragged - he tries to get his feet beneath him, but they won't listen. His toes are freezing, but the air against the exposed part of his face is warm.  

Can you guys fucking slow down?

The sound of a fist on a door rips through his skull. Shut the fuck up. 

Simon Riley doesn't believe in angels, but one opens the door. 

***

He stumbles on your doorstep, barely held up between the two boys on either side of him. One of the boys you recognize from the neighborhood - you had stitched him up earlier this year after he cut himself in a skateboard accident. He looks at you and then at the giant of a man he's struggling to hold up. A tactical vest - a skeleton mask - a patch that you don't recognize. Maybe you do, but it's unrecognizable beneath the blood spatter and viscera. 

"I think he needs your help."

It takes two seconds for your years of training to kick in. You can feel your shoulder screaming at you - an old injury that never healed quite right - as you help the two boys drag the guy across your small townhome, a bloody trail left in the wake of the hurricane. 

He's fucking heavy and you wonder what a miracle it was that the two boys could even drag him any distance to you. You're not sure what miracle worked to get him onto the kitchen table. 

"Leave," you tell the two boys, "go home and lock your doors and do not open them for anyone do you understand me?"

They understand you. 

The man on your table is barely breathing.

***

She's on top of him - he wants to make a quip about it, but his brain isn't connecting enough with his mouth. Johnny would be able to think of it faster than him. He knows she's talking to him; he can see her mouth moving, but her words are a soft hum. He can't tell if she's beautiful, her halo is blinding him. 

Take it off.

"-name. What is your name?"

A breakthrough. A crack in the static. 

"Come on dude; you cannot fucking die on my kitchen table."

I'm already dead sweetheart, otherwise, you wouldn't be here.

She curses more than he thought angels would be able to. Maybe it's not in their by-laws to keep a clean mouth; that must be reserved for mortals.

She's rough as she pulls off his tactical vest, her hands sliding underneath his drenched t-shirt. I don't fuck on the first date, sweetheart.

Can angels fuck?

It seems like the kind of thing that would be forbidden.

Her hands are so fucking soft and warm; Simon didn't realize he was freezing until she touched him - her skin is like fire against him. Her hand traces up his bicep, to his neck. She grabs his shoulder; maybe he needs to roll over for her. That's stupid though because he can't. His shoulder lights on fire as her nails dig into the shoulder there. Stop that.

The kitchen ceiling above him comes into sharp focus until she fills his entire vision. Her halo is gone.

"What is your name?"

She's begging him to answer.

I like that.

His lips are like sandpaper; his tongue is glued to the top of his mouth. His lips form around the word, but he can't make himself say anything.

***

His eyes light up when you pinch his trapezius muscle; beneath his mask, you can see his face rearrange in a grimace. 

That's good.

He's not dead yet.

Your medic bag is dusty beneath your bed, but everything inside of it is still good. His shirt is drenched in blood; you drag off the tactical vest the best that you can do after cutting the thick canvas on the side. The shirt cuts off easier, so blood-soaked that the blood drips onto your knee.. 

Through the blood you can't tell where he ends and the injury begins. You think as you press the Quikclot to the wound that you should have put on gloves - who knows what this guy could have. But you never had time for that out in the field either. What difference is this? It was one of the first things you learned as a medic. Every battlefield is the same, every victim is just another body beneath your hands. 

Keep 'em breathing. Keep it moving. 

You hold the gauze with one hand, the other trailing down his arm to his wrist to take his pulse. 120. 

Fuck.

You hear your old captain in your ear, walking you through all the steps.

Feet up.

Blanket on top. 

Pressure on the wound. Add a new bandage on top of the one if the one below becomes saturated in blood.

Pray. 

Fuck.

Beneath your bare feet, the floor is slippery with blood. 

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

The comms on the guy's vest lets out a hazy sound of static and you reach for it, running off instinct and adrenaline. British voices explode on the other end - angry and searching.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. I've got one down and bleeding out - he's going into shock."

The words slip out of you and for a moment you're back to mortar shells and blood on the sand. Dust in your mouth. Screaming in your sleep with blood caked underneath your bitten-down nails.

"Who the fuck 'r you?"

You repeat yourself, hand slipping on the button from sweat and blood, yelling over the voices on the other side.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. I've got one down and bleeding out - he's going into shock."

A hand reaches up to wrap around your wrist. The guy on your table is looking at you, eyes alert but searching. When he speaks, it's barely a whisper.

"Ghost."

His hand shakes where he holds you.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. He's dying on my kitchen table. Please."

***

She's hurting him. It fucking hurts when she presses down on his side. If Simon could open his mouth, he might scream at her. Might beg her to stop. His heart feels like it's about to break out of his chest; he can't breathe through his stupid fucking mask. He's gasping, hand reaching out to grasp her wrist. He doesn't remember trying to do what.

"Ghost."

He doesn't want her to not know his name. If she's his angel, she needs to know what to call him when she delivers him to where ever they're going together. What kind of first date would it be if he didn't at least tell her his name? Aren't angels everlasting? Are they going to be together forever?

That might not be too bad.

"This is call sign Hazy looking for exfil. Last townhouse on Miller Avenue. He's dying on my kitchen table. Please."

Hazy. What kind of name is that? Fitting though, he thinks, because he can't make her features about above him as she presses on his side. 

Hazy. 

Hey.

Hazy.

That fucking hurts.

***

They don't even attempt to just open the front door - it shatters off of its hinges as their boots connect with the flimsy wood. They come in guns pointed; it's not the first time this has ever happened to you. Might not be the last. 

They're screaming at you to put your fucking hands up, and you're screaming at them to get you a fucking towel because he's bleeding through and you don't have anything else to put on top. It is a cacophony of noise; your ears are ringing, and your hands shaking against Ghost's side. 

This is exactly why you left in the first place. 

This shit fucking sucks. 

One of the men - the youngest-looking one - finally listens to you and snatches a towel you have laying on the back of the couch. Outside you can hear an ambulance screaming; intermingling with the men screaming into their comms, screaming about getting someone there now. 

Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds and he's gone - loaded onto a stretcher and rolled out of your townhouse, the remnants of your broken front door slamming against the wall behind them. One man is still screaming at you, hand grabbing your shoulder roughly as the blood from your hands drips to the linoleum below.

***

Her hands are replaced with rough ones; they drag him away from her - he tries to stretch his hand out towards her to grab her, to bring her with him. Guardian angels have to come guard. He can't get anything to work. 

It nearly fucking kills him, turning his head back towards her to catch a glimpse of her standing there, hands bloodstained and dripping. Johnny's screaming at her; he reaches out to grab her shoulder. Simon wants to tell him to take his fucking hands off of her - she's here for Simon anyway. Johnny doesn't get the girl this time. 

She doesn't look at Johhny - she only has eyes for Simon.

That's good. 

She disappears around the corner, her halo the last thing Simon can see in the darkness.

Hazy.

Fuck.

[tinykonig]

Ghost x reader headcannons

im so glad you guys are enjoying these??? i love making them and its helping me procrastinate finals :) as always these are written for afab, and sometimes include references feminine terms. if you like how i write for ghost, send me a lil request and i might turn it into something :)

NSFW indicated in post 🤍

Genuinely it takes fucking forever for Ghost to admit having feelings for you. He is in denial for soooo long

What finally makes him crack is getting critically injured on a mission and all he can think about is how he should have told you

He resolves to tell you once he comes to in the hospital. He figures it would be stupid to waste any more time

You come to see him and you think he doesn’t want you there because he can’t make eye contact with you and that’s rare for him

You just kind of awkwardly apologize for coming and turn to leave and he just barks out “Wait.”

When Ghost is getting something off his chest he gets it all out. So he’s just very bluntly telling you that you were all he could think about when he thought he was going to die and he doesn’t see the point in hiding how he feels any longer

At the end of his speech he looks at you and you are getting a little emotional and this motherfucker has the audacity to be like, “… why are you crying?”

Like you just spilled your heart out to me give me a break!!!

His entire body relaxes when you tell him you feel the same way. He didn’t even realize how tense he had been

You don’t leave his side until he’s recovered and able to fully function back to normal

He doesn’t say thank you with his words but rather his actions. His eyes tell you everything anyways

Sometimes he will glance around him to make sure no one else is watching and then just lift you into the most earth shatteringly wonderful hug

Puts you down after a few seconds and returns to whatever he was doing without a word. You grew used to this eventually

So protective. Like wont even let you walk on the side of the sidewalk thats closer to the road. Puts himself between you and any dangers

You will be his passenger princess. There is no way he lets you drive sorry thats his job, he looks damn good doing it so you dont mind

(holds your hand over the center console)

Big on acts of service. Does little domestic things for you like folds your laundry while you take a nap and offers to cook dinner every other day

Stares at you when you sleep. He thinks you look so angelic and peaceful and it makes him feel all warm inside but he’s definitely scared the shit out of you a few times

Not a fan of going out a lot. He’s a homebody when he’s not in the field

The best listener!!! He will offer advice when you ask for it or will just lend you sympathy when you don’t want advice

He does have his moments where he needs his space, and if you try to push him he can get mean

After he’s recharged and feeling back to normal he is touch. starved.

Likes to spoon, likes to watch movies with you in between his legs and laying on his chest, likes standing behind you while you are doing anything and just holding your hips

He always buries his face in your neck and just breathes deep. Could drown in your scent and be happy

It takes him awhile to remove his mask freely around you because its a feeling of vulnerability that just gnaws at him

He warms up to it over time and you see his face more and more often. Loves that you act the same either way

He has dimples (fist fight me if you disagree)

He can grow a killer beard, but trims it based on your preference because he doesn’t care either way

Very thoughtful with gifts and always remembers your birthday (sometimes forgets his own)

Knows your order for every restaurant and will make sure its correct and if its not he IS letting them know. How dare they

Literally mocks whatever accent you have constantly. Playfully but he’s brutal

If you are being stubborn he is not against just picking you up and slinging you across his shoulder

Sleeps like a rock this one

Likes to watch sports on tv and catches himself cheering his team on and then gets embarrassed (its so fucking cute)

If his mask is off and he sees any exposed part of your skin- he’s biting

And then going about his business like he didn’t just bite you???? So weird

NSFW BELOW THIS POINT

The biting happens in the bedroom too, specifically when he cums. Your neck will have teeth marks

Switch, switch, switch

His bedroom eyes are soo severe , he just gives you a single half lidded stare and your clothes are coming off

He loves to degrade you, he doesn’t talk a lot but when he does he is telling you how pathetic you look crying on his cock

Loves to be degraded too :) Whines if you call him pussy drunk (because he is)

A little rough but king of aftercare

Loves watching you come undone on his fingers. Has a thing for wearing his gloves when he fingers you

OVERSTIMULATION thats all

Against the wall is a specialty of Simons

Grunts a lot, growls sometimes when he is close

You go down on him and he sometimes lets go and moans

Always returns the favor

Doesn’t do quickies or risky places

Will do about anything else

[bokutosbiceps]

real deal

kure raian x f!reader | smut + some fluff | 2.2k words

summary: raian comes home from a job to find that you’ve replaced him with a little piece of plastic. he decides to show you why the real deal is always better

warnings: mentions of murder, cursing (it’s rai omg), nsfw under the cut, use of sex toy, cunnilingus, throat fucking, choking/gagging, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, possessive sex, mating press, dirty talk

a/n: i’m dedicating this to @thebigevilsamp + @missmadness123 because i used to thirst over raian with these two so i figured you guys would appreciate this 🥹 i’m sorry for leaving LOL. oh + also @kenganparadise + @kengan-ass because i enjoyed their writing at the peak of the fandom 💕

18+ MINORS DNI

Raian swung his keys around on his index finger as he strolled back to his car, whistling a tune he’d had stuck in his head throughout his entire job. Erioh had sent him to kill some asshole who had been embezzling money from one of Erioh’s oldest friend’s company, and Raian couldn’t have been less intrigued. 

The job was easy, since the target was just an old dude. A simple squeeze of his hand had snapped the old man’s fragile cervical spine, extinguishing the last bit of life the guy had left in him. Whatever, he was probably going to die within the next 10 years anyways. But however easy the job was, it was equally long. The target rarely ever worked given his old age, and it took forever to get intel on when the old bag would show up to work. Raian was never able to figure out where he lived, either. He didn’t understand how old people could be so elusive.

I’ve just gotta go report back to old man Erioh and then I’ll finally be able to get home. Raian grunted to himself as he weaved in and out of traffic on his way to Kure Village. I wonder how my bitch is doing… Raian’s expression softened as he thought of coming home to you after being away for so long on this job. He would probably never get used to being received with such excitement and love when returning home from a job. Deep down, he loved it. And deep down, he missed you more and more as the days apart from you passed. He appreciated the short but sweet texts you would send him, telling him that you were thinking of him, or that you missed him, sometimes even complete with a cute or sexy photo of you.

Maybe he should do something nice for you. Since he was in a good mood.

Raian sneered as he slammed his car door shut after pulling up to a random supermarket. Dumb bitch, making me get her flowers. Why do women even like flowers? They’re so useless, can’t even eat them or use them as a weapon. Fucking hell. He grumbled to himself as he picked up some flowers, already knowing exactly which kind he would get since he had taken note of what types of flowers you liked to adorn the kitchen table with in the house. He could be observant when he wanted. He threw some cash at the cashier and stalked back to his car, speeding to Kure Village so he could debrief Erioh and be on his merry way to your arms.

“It’s finished, old man.” Raian leaned against the door frame to Erioh’s office, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watched his grandfather raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m surprised it took you so long. I was starting to wonder if you’d finally pissed someone off enough to get yourself killed.” Erioh cackled at how quickly Raian’s smirk disappeared.

“Kill? Me?” Raian snorted. “You know better, you old bastard, no one can kill me.” Raian straightened once he remembered your flowers were resting in the front seat of his car, likely shriveling up in the sweltering heat of the afternoon. “I’m leaving. If you need anything else, don’t.” Raian turned on his heel and waved to Erioh as he exited his house.

“Raian.” Erioh called out to him and Raian huffed as he turned back around to face his grandfather, glaring at him expectantly. “I’m giving you the next two weeks off. Spend some time with your woman.” Erioh smiled slyly and sat down at his desk. “If I’m going to be appointing you as head of the clan anytime soon, I’ll be wanting to see that you are capable of upholding your bloodline.” Erioh gave Raian a pointed look. “Get busy.”

Raian scoffed as he continued to make his way out of Erioh’s house. Way ahead of you.

It took Raian less than 3 minutes to drive the short distance from Erioh’s house in the depths of Kure Village to his own home somewhere in the upper ring of the village.

He unlocked the front door and entered the silent house with flowers in hand, somewhat disappointed that you weren’t jumping into his arms to greet him like you usually did. It’s what he got for trying to surprise you with his return.

“Y/n?” Raian called out as he walked from the front room to the living room, stopping in the kitchen to set the flowers down on the table next to the vase filled with almost identical flowers. He heard a small buzzing noise coming from down the hall and followed the noise to the bedroom. What he found was a delicious sight.

You were lying on the California king, legs open wide, chest heaving, and lips parted in pleasure as you held something small and colorful and vibrating to your clit.

“Hmm, the fuck is going on here?” Raian’s deep drawl shook you out of your haze of pleasure, causing you to immediately close your legs and sit up in slight fear and embarrassment.

“Rai, I didn’t know you were coming home.” Your voice was breathless, your hair slightly tousled, and your cheeks held a shade of arousal that Raian found so delectable. He approached the bed in one long stride and snatched the vibrator out of your hand before you could even think to hide it. “I missed you.” You said bashfully, watching as Raian inspected the toy that fit in between his large fingers.

“You missed me so you tried to replace me with this thing?” Raian challenged, crushing the vibrator between his fingers and shifting his gaze to you.

“Nothing can replace you, Rai.” You sat up onto your knees to become level with Raian, who was still standing by the bedside, now brushing the remnant of your brand new vibrator onto the floor. You slid your hands underneath his shirt and up his chest. “Fusui just…suggested it to me. She knew I was missing you and you never told me when you’d be back…a girl has her needs, y’know.”

“So did that little fucking toy satisfy your needs?” Raian seized your hands with one of his hands and used his other hand to grip your face. You shook your head in blatant and hurried denial. “Good, I’m glad my bitch knows the difference between a piece of plastic and the real deal.”

Raian wasted no time in pushing you back on the bed and placing his knees on either side of your naked body, dragging his shirt off while you made quick work of his belt and pushed his jeans down to expose the bulge in his boxers.

“You see how hard I am already, bitch? This was your plan all along, hm? For me to come home and see my bitch all laid out on the bed for me, ready to be fucked?” Raian sank his teeth into your shoulder, rutting his hips so that his bulge was rubbing against your pussy. You gasped at the sudden contact and wrapped your legs around his hips obediently, giving him more access. “Good girl.” He growled, moving his hands down to squeeze and knead your ass.

“Rai, fuck—I missed you, so much.” You breathed, bucking your hips against his boxers, getting them soaked in your arousal.

Raian sat back on his heels, eyes raking over your naked body which was trembling with excitement at the evening ahead of you. He looked down at his boxers and frowned. “Dirty girl, huh? Getting my boxers all wet with your pussy juices.” He stood up briefly to take off his boxers, releasing his girthy cock and letting it slap against his lower abdomen. You drooled at the site of his pre-cum leaking out in beads from his tip.

Raian kneeled back on the bed and grabbed a fistful of your hair, coaxing your lips closer to his cock until it was fully shoved down your throat. He warmed his cock in your throat until he noticed tears forming at the corner of your eyes and decided to give a good, strong thrust into your mouth, causing you to gag.

“My bitch is gonna gag on my cock, huh? Did you miss the way it tastes? Are you gonna take all this cum for me?” He bullied you, fucking your throat despite your gagging and choking until he was shooting ropes of cum down into your stomach. He slid out of your mouth and let you catch your breath while pushing you back down on the bed and pressing kisses down your neck, to your breasts, to your navel, before placing a chaste kiss to your clit, making you whine and arch your back.

“Does my girl want me to fuck her cunt with my tongue?” Raian smirked at your whining as you twisted his hair in your fists, trying to push your hip into his face. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want you t-to fuck me, Rai.” You breathed. “I missed your cock so much, baby.” Raian clicked his tongue before pushing one, then two, then three fingers inside of you, eliciting a high pitched whine from you that originated from deep in your chest.

“Not yet, bitch.” Raian pumped his fingers in and out of you as he licked a stripe up your clit. “I’ve gotta torture you first.” Raian continued fucking you with his fingers and licking and sucking on your clit until your thighs were trembling and he was sure you were about to cum. Just when you felt like you were about to fall over the edge, Raian abandoned your pussy, making you shiver slightly at the cold air that replaced his touch.

You lifted your heavy head to see Raian kneeling again, stroking his cock and spreading his pre-cum to make sure he could fuck you easily. You eyed his cock hungrily, remembering how just moments ago that thing had been shoved down your throat so far you could barely breathe.

Without any warning, Raian hoisted your legs onto his shoulders and leaned down in between your legs to lick greedily up your neck before capturing your lips in a rough kiss, almost feral, that left you dizzy. Raian’s lips put you into such a trance that the pressure of Raian pushing his cock inside of you made you squeal in surprise, throwing your head and arching your back, making Raian’s angle inside of you even deeper.

“Fuck, babe, how could I resist the feeling of your pussy squeezing my cock like this?” Raian picked up the pace, bottoming out with every thrust. “How much did you miss me?” Raian gripped your chin and forced you to look at him, but your eyes were rolling into the back of your head from the pleasure of Raian’s cock filling you up. “Look at me, bitch, tell me how much you missed me fucking you like this.”

You willed yourself to meet Raian’s feral gaze, which made your walls squeeze around Raian’s cock even tighter as he fucked you into the bed. “I missed you so much—baby, I-I dreamed about you coming home and—f-fucking me just like this.”

“Hm, good answer.” Raian's pace started to become erratic and his hips stuttered. “I think I’m gonna let you cum. Is that what you want?” You managed to moan out a yes as Raian’s thrusts became rougher and he squeezed your hips with his fingers, hard enough to leave bruises. He growled as he neared his release and the sound was the final straw to bring on your climax. Raian was not far behind you and he released into you as he bit your bottom lip before smoothing it over with his tongue.

Once he was sure he had emptied the last drop of his cum into your cunt, he slipped out of you and threw himself down onto the bed next to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his chest. He let you catch your breath before continuing his bullying.

“So me or the toy?” He asked through a smirk. You huffed.

“Rai, shut up. I was just desperate, you were gone for a long time.” You said the last part quietly.

Raian felt a twinge of guilt poke him in the chest. He frowned and ran his hands down your back, squeezing your ass. “Sorry.” He mumbled. Two weeks didn’t seem like that long when he was focused on a job, but he had never thought of how long it must’ve seemed to you when you had to deal with his family every day.

“It’s fine.” You stifled a yawn and curled yourself further into Raian’s chest. “Just as long as you come back to me every time.”

The corner of Raian’s mouth turned upward into what could have been regarded as a smile, had you seen it. He just grunted in agreement. Nothing could keep me away.

[leaping-lemur]

Thoughts on the Narrator

Played Slay the Princess: Pristine Cut over the weekend and while I expected to be feral about it, I ended up having a lot of thoughts. Like, philosophical thoughts. Mostly about the Narrator.

So without further ado, let's go to the spoilers under the cut. And boy do I mean SPOILERS: everything after this assumes you've beaten the game and are familiar with its structures and themes.

I mostly figured I'd putz along and go with my gut and see where I landed for the first playthrough, with a vague “I should kill the Shifting Mound this time around," but knew I would almost certainly go with a “leave with the princess” ending because I'm a softy, and a predictable softy. So predictable that my initial playthrough path was this:

Specter > Thorn > Stranger > Prisoner > Wraith (via the Nightmare) > time loop ending (because I was a derp and picked up the knife. Hero wanted it and I can deny him nothing.  Also I expected the Contrarian to tell me to throw it out the window but he didn't join that ending.)

I don’t think it’s because I already know the basic conceit and am numb to the “do I inflict violence now, or later?” mechanism of play, because I’ve definitely wanted to claw my own/someone else’s face off during previous playthroughs. Sure, I picked nicer options because I was treating it like a first run, but we all know how totally jacked up trying to be nice can get you.

Zero rancor for the Narrator, and the final conversation with the Shifting Mound felt… kind? Part of it was the new ability to talk to the vessels directly (it felt new anyway?) with less hard edged “we fought and hurt each other and raaaaah.” To the point where some of the angrier Explore options didn't feel relevant to the playthrough, where normally I'm like “you are not the culmination of my best girls, return them >:( “ I think part of it was because I went for the gentler routes, with just enough knowledge to know when to push (my first playthrough ever got me The Prisoner which probably tells you everything you need to know about how consistently wishy-washy I am).

It was all just nice. It felt _nice_ and I was so surprised that I felt this overall magnanimity toward everyone.

I tried it again and quickly realized that this first time was a fluke. Shifty is unable to give straight answers and it was a serendipitous confluence of options that made everything feel… gentle. Subsequent playthroughs, I scraped up against the same jagged edges I’d felt before, the bits that made me go “wait, NO!” and not in the funny way.

One thing jumped out at me. I don’t know if it was present in the base game, but I never noticed it until now.

I know I said everyone felt nice in my first playthrough, but of course the Narrator is…. You know. …himself. A smug prick. So when I say nice, I meant nice _for him_, nicer than I expected/remembered, but not… nice or supportive.

And then this interaction in The Tower:

This is after Broken tries to kill you, Hero fends him off, and you do your damndest to kill Tower. Normally in scenarios where you both die, the Narrator is frustrated, disappointed, sometimes hits you with “I told you so” in some way. But… not here.

I was so struck by this feeling of the Narrator saying “you did your best, good job, buddy. I am not going to lay the weight of my entire reality dying on you, because you tried.” I don't recall another time where he thanks you as you die, either. He knows when you die, the world is potentially destroyed. He still says "you saved the world" as you're dying. There's no need for him to soften that blow except to send you on to the next world with some hope and kindness.

Then you get to Chapter 3 Fury and this Narrator is much more typical. He's furious you'd even think about dying because his world will die.

I had this weird little gut punch when I realized that 1) this totally feels like a different guy and 2) fuck this guy in particular. I'm only saving the world for Tower Narrator now!

And you know it's not just a matter of making sure the Princess dies before you, because if you kill yourself after, the Narrator is... not happy. Well, there is some language suggesting that maybe the world isn't destroyed when you die, so much as you're sent to another world with a chance of fucking things up so please just stay in the void where the Princess is dead, no do-overs, kthnx, but the Narrator also says that the previous realities have been doomed in later chapters, so the only certainty is probably that any time you start in a new reality, there's the chance you destroy all of them, so a reality where both you and the Princess die isn't necessarily saved.

I thought a lot about the Narrator when the game first released, and I'm thinking about him a lot now. I think he's neat.

He is a man (bird, mortal being, whatever the mortal beings are; all that matters is that they’re people) living at the end of his universe’s timeline (maybe it’s the heat death of the universe, the big crunch, who knows). He can either make his peace with the end of all things, or he can do the very human thing and _do something about it_. This dude literally _rewrites physics_ to save humanity (birdmanity?) even knowing he, personally, will never get to reap the rewards of his work. All he has to do is rip a god/the laws of physics apart and excise certain immutable laws of thermodynamics. Sort of. He, as a mortal, can’t do this himself, but he can set certain laws of the universe against each other and tip the scales to one side over the other. (Was the singular god sentient before the Narrator did this? Unclear. Neither Long Quiet or Shifting Mound seem aware of personhood prior, just memories of feelings). He makes a Construct in which he can run this experiment - a sort of large hadron collider for baby gods. The major rule is: the more the baby gods know about the Construct, the more they can shape it, so he can’t just _tell_ them about it. Corollary: if the experiment fails, that instance of reality dies and the Construct moves the experiment to another one.

Getting caught up in LQ or SM’s feelings is kind of beside the point. Humans hurting others in these abstract/metaphysical ways is pretty common but rarely posited _quite_ in this same way. In thinking about it, I was oddly reminded of the Ring Entities from the Expanse: to achieve FTL capability/wormhole teleportation, the rings allow ships to travel through another dimension inhabited by the Ring Entities. They are _really pissed_ about it. This becomes really clear to everyone! _It doesn’t stop humanity from using the rings, it’s not even a debate._ The Ring Entities are something very beyond human understanding and thus, abstract. Humans are very good at punching holes in reality when given the tools and damn the consequences once we have the tools in hand. Gods, extra-dimensional entities, whatever. We'll punch 'em. And that’s just, y’know, space travel!

_This_ is ending death.

Sure, we call it hubris, but that just feels like the human condition.

Which brings me to the philosophical point that many people take as a given, that I’ve never understood: that death is necessary to make life meaningful. Life matters because we know it ends.

This is one of those “understandings” people have that feels totally alien to me, right up there with “if people didn’t have jobs,* they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves.” Every time I heard someone say that about themselves, I just had to sit in that feeling of realization (again, and again, and again) that people have vastly different experiences and inner lives from each other. Periods where I didn’t have a job were hands down my most productive, fulfilling years. No longer was I scratching out an existence for myself at the margins of what little time I was allowed, I could devote myself whole-heartedly to pursuits I cared about.

*By job I mean the capitalistic ‘sell labor for money to someone’ and not a job as in ‘having a task-oriented purpose.’

I know plenty of people who do good work, whose lives would have meaning even if they lived five hundred years, or forever (I do a lot of work in wildlife rescue/rehab spaces, which may color my view of things and how driven people are, and no I’m still not over being fucking _robbed_ of some of the heroes we’ve recently lost in those spaces). Death doesn’t have inherent meaning or nobility - it’s just a fact of life, and physics, and entropy. It’s the shortening of telomeres and the accumulation of mutations. We need death to mean something because fuck, if it’s pointless, if it’s just atoms rearranging themselves in a cold, unfeeling universe, how do we face that? 

And if a flippin’ _god_ can’t give me any argument for why death is a thing that should exist beyond “stupid mortals derive meaning from it” (not that they need it for meaning, just the assumption that they do) - yeah, I think the Narrator deserves to have the scales tilted in his favor. Even if, ultimately, his argument isn’t in support of some immutable meaning about the nature of the universe, so much as “it would be the kind thing to do.”

It's so human, in the face of something that purports to be inevitable. You're at the tipping point where the inevitable isn't, anymore, and the only argument inevitability can make is... itself.

I’ve also heard people say that the Narrator��s ideal universe is a bad one: without death, he describes a cycle of forgetfulness and rediscovery. I’ve heard it decried as lonely (forgetting your friends! etc) and pointless, but all _I_ heard was my own ADHD experience when I go diving through my closet and rediscovering old hobbies. I have had a lot of hobbies. I’ll probably have a lot more. I’ve accepted that I pick things up with passion for a few months to a couple years, then drop them. Many I come back to, eventually. As I get older, the more I think that this is a pretty cool way to spend eternity.

Death being the thing that gives life meaning is axiomatic, a conclusion without support. We already know death is undesirable and the reasons why. Is death desirable for reasons other than this nebulous “meaning”? Does the universe change? Does it matter? There is already more to do in the universe than can be done, because time and space are both infinite.

Ultimately, I don’t think he’s objectively wrong, or a bad guy (this is, of course, assuming that the rules of the Construct are the rules by necessity due to the kind of story the devs wanted to tell, because the Narrator would clearly not build the Construct the way he did if he didn’t absolutely have to). I think he’s a prick, and I think he cares more about his goals than about the gods he’s made, but he doesn’t _not_ care, and sometimes he seems to care more than others.

And I find that fascinating.

UPDATE: One of the new endings addresses this point and (in world) undermines my thoughts entirely! ....I think it's still wrong from a philosophical point of view, but that becomes a disagreement re: metaphysics between the author(s)'s opinion and my own. I don't think living forever would lead to everything being done and nothing left to do (because again, infinite time means infinite space means infinite things to do) but it's purely hypothetical, can't be proven either way, and is argued over by nerds for literally thousands of years. Not like we could ever empirically know.

[lemon-natalia]

The Locked Tomb Reaction - The Unwanted Guest

it’s taken a while, but finally I’ve been able to get around to liveblogging this! my understanding is that The Unwanted Guest takes place in that period of time where Palamedes is ousting Ianthe from Naberius’s body? so i’m intrigued to see what actually happens, as well as how Muir writes in a new theatre-play format

‘kissing or feeding; we can’t be sure’ haha what the fuck. we’re really going in right off the bat with the surrealist horror here. i had a feeling that Ianthe’s mindscape might be a disturbing place, and apparently i was right

ok so i’m willing to suspend my disbelief that this is just a description for the reader to understand the concept but … does either Palamedes or Ianthe’s subconscious know what a 20th century English butler is?

ohhh my god Ianthe’s in a French maid costume, is this because Palamedes considers it sexy. this is so cursed. once again suspension of disbelief, but do either of these characters know what France is?

i am very much enjoying the dynamic between the two of them here, especially how unimpressed Palamedes is with, well, everything Ianthe 

oooh okay thats intriguing, there’s another person’s voice here. my first instinct is that it’s Camilla, given Palamedes is currently in her body

wow Palamedes’ immediate response to a game of essentially 20 questions is to immediately get philosophical and start a debate about whether the soul can be changed. he sounds like the kind of person who would be absolute hell to play Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit against 

what they’re talking about here is very interesting though. i like the little glimpses we get, primarily through the Sixth and the Fifth, about what academia and science looks like in a world with necromancy. whether the soul can be changed is kind of a big hypothetical in the real world, but in TLT where you can literally summon or ‘consume’ a person’s soul it would be much more directly relevant 

also a very interesting point (at least what I think he’s saying?) from Palamedes here that just because the Lyctors lived for 10,000 years doesn’t necessarily mean that the thanergy powering them is perpetual, it could just be declining very very slowly

okay so the Voice just started talking about ‘Camilla’s idea’, so presumably not her unless she’s talking about herself in third person? it could theoretically just be Palamedes debating with himself? 

Palamedes briefly trying to play bad cop/Ace Attorney and intimidate Ianthe is hilarious 

Ianthe’s insistence that she didn’t murder Naberius because it was his job to die for her anyway is an … interesting perspective

‘she and I both understand that the goal is always worth the cost’ ngl i think Harrow herself would have something to say about that, given she literally gave herself a Claire’s lobotomy in the hope of saving Gideon. it wasn’t so much Harrow who decided that Lyctorhood was worth defeating Cytherea, but Gideon deciding for her 

once again i feel horribly bad for Naberius Tern, whose worst crime was pretty much just being an asshole

hah has Palamedes picked up a cigarette habit from Pyrrha. i’m enjoying the insight into his thought process here given that he generally comes off as knowing more than other people all the time, so it’s nice to see him actually in the process of figuring stuff out 

‘She wandered around like she was the protagonist’ HAH Ianthe i have bad news for you 

aww it’s sweet to get Pal’s view on Gideon here, namely that he thinks she’s smarter than even she gives herself credit for and that he was initially jealous of her dynamic with ‘Dulcinea’ but came to like her anyways

‘My problem was reminding myself you were a child’ ohhh my god the mysterious voice is Dulcinea! i can’t believe this is literally the only time we’ve seen Pal and Dulcinea actually interact. and isn't this possibly the first time that they've had an 'in person' (so to speak) interaction since most of their relationship was sending letters to each other?? oh i am not okay

okayy i’m interested in what Dulcinea’s saying here about how she seems to have died again and ‘something awful’ happened to her soul … it doesn’t seem to totally line up with what happened at the end of HtN, especially with her mention that there are two shores on the River. again everything seems to point to the nature of the River playing a big part in AtN 

woooh Magnus Quinn reference, my beloved 

oooh i love the contrast between Ianthe’s descriptions of her relationships with Corona and Babs - despite Babs being the one who was actually the cavalier, the kind of co-dependent relationship she has with Corona is much closer to the relationship between the other cavaliers and their necromancers. which is why the fact that she’s apparently the only Lyctor to outright murder their cavalier vs her admission that she wouldn’t have used Corona is very interesting to me

‘Coronabeth herself is part of your goal’ i’m very interested in the long-term goal of Ianthe in general. obviously one part was becoming a Lyctor, but i do wonder if she has something else planned, i doubt she’s content to just sort of do what John wants her to do forever

‘Jeannemary Chatur regaled me with the story at breakfast’ woooh Jeannemary reference. also this is such a cute detail

ooooh Palamedes's newfound cigarette habit is from Ianthe not Pyrrha, that's very fun

and Palamedes’ final point here that the soul is permeable is not just very satisfying against Ianthe’s general smugness, but has very interesting implications for all of the Lyctor characters, especially the fact that their titles are named after their cavaliers. for example, how much of Mercy’s devotion originally came from her versus the fact that Christabel pre-Res was a literal nun. and what does it mean for John and Alecto exactly - how much of the same person, or even human, is he after literally eating the soul of a planet

ok this isn’t to do with the Unwanted Guest exactly but i am very concerned by the notice at the very end that ‘Hell Will Break Loose’ in AtN. it already sounds ominous enough without considering that the previous notice, ‘Gideon will return’ at the end of HtN was done in the most painful way possible 

overall i really enjoyed this! what i really like about the additional short stories Muir writes for TLT is that you get to see little character moments and explore bits of the lore that would have dragged the main story down a bit, so it was very fun to see Palamedes and Ianthe interact one-on-one and debate a bit

and now i really have run out of stuff to liveblog about these books rip my sanity

[willowthewiisp]

Lore points in the dlc that piss me off and make no sense

The greater will going AWOL after sending the elden beast breaks so many lore points I'm inclined to just straight up disregard it altogether because it makes no sense. The beasts were given intelligence presumably by the greater will. The elden ring existed during the time of the beasts we know that because of farum azula and the elden ring depiction there. The greater will not being around during that time makes no sense. It would make much more sense that the greater will left during the beginning stages of marikas rule and most certainly cutting ties when the elden ring was broken. But to straight up say god wasn't there from day one is so...? Bad??? I can accept the mother of fingers making shit up after the greater will cut her off but there are things that only a god like the greater will can do. what about the eternal cities being banished underground by the greater will??? If GW wasn't around for that time who did it then? What could possibly have that kind of power. It just makes no sense?????

Also the outer god of rot being written out is so bad too because what the fuck did the blind swordsman seal under the lake of rot then??? Was that just bullshit? Malenia wasn't a candidate anymore because she was an empyrean being used as the vessel for the god of rot because it wanted to imprint its age of rot on the elden ring. It literally makes no sense if Romina is the creator of rot if she's not an outer god.

and another thing, if all the numens in the shaman village were supposedly killed off by the hornsent or maybe even sacrificed by Marika (who knows) who were the black knife assassins and how were they numens associated with Marika if supposedly they were gone.

Why is rellana in the land of shadow have I missed something.

Why is there one crucible knight here.

If Marika was so traumatized by the saint jars why did she fucking allow living jars and why did she allow the jars in general to feed the erdtree. I don't believe this whole narrative that Marika is a tragic baby hurt by the evil hornsent for a second. Her entire backstory and foundation reeks of white colonizer to the point I bet those fuckin numens came here and tried to start shit. Anyways.

I know this horse has been beaten to death already but why on earth would radahn agree to be a consort to a god who wants an age of peace if "war suited him". He held the stars in place to probably protect ranni (and sellia) but also to help the golden order because we know the golden order wasn't a big fan of reading the stars and shit. He was a huge fan of Godfrey, and saw his father as a hero and wore his red hair with honor ( in contrast to radagon who hated it). Look I have no idea if radahn is just as fucked up as miquella or not but you cannot deny him being this consort is bizarre and left field. I would have genuinely accepted godwyn of all people over radahn. Godwyn was a powerful warrior he defeated the dragons but he was also kind and compassionate because he befriended fortissax to the point that dragon bro was ride or die and allowed himself to be eaten alive by deathblight. Also hello miquella literally calls him lord brother. Godwyn being revived was literally miquellas big plan other than curing malenia. So why the fuck was radahn chosen??? It's not like godwyn was dead when miquella was born and shit???? Also?? If mohg had to be used it would make kind of sense that he was used for godwyn since they share the same mother and father rather than radahn who didn't share either Godfrey or Marika (yes I know radagon is Marika). It would have probably been easier for godwyn to sink into mohgs body since they shared actual blood.

If marika was so very traumatized and hated everything having to do with the crucible and the hornsent why the hell would she allow Godfrey to have crucible knights as well as other crucible vestiges.

There's more but I'm just flabbergasted by the lore direction in general. It's almost like two different writing teams are at work.

[kurain-genealogy]

i said i was gonna post about it and i am. i don't think william afton hates his kids. i don't think william afton is a mad scientist that kidnapped and put children in hallucinogenic gas chambers. whatever the fuck dittophobia said about afton doing all that, plus not stopping/furthering the bullying between michael and cc, is just dumb & wrong. william wanting his kids to fight, even die, is comically evil in the "bad writing" way. him being characterized as someone who experiments on children (including his own with no regard for their lives) in order to achieve immortality or whatever his supposed motivation is, is just really... nothing? as a character there is nothing to make him feel real. in an attempt to flesh out this character, they made him into a cartoon villain with "evil" being his only defining trait. whatever, i could talk for so long about how dumb i think all the dittophobia stuff is but i think most ppl on tumblr are on the same page regarding that.

to me, william afton is best characterized as someone who, at the Very Least, Doesn't Want His Own Children To Die. he can be a shitty father all around, or he can be a genuine loving father who is also a serial killer, as long as he Cares if they Die? most of what makes william afton an interesting villain, and where a lot of people interpret his motivation comes from, is how despite all his best efforts, he cannot prevent the death or downfall of his own family. he is in a tragedy of his own making, a self-imposed hell crafted by his hubris and violence. if you take this away, why should i care what happens to him? william afton was scariest when he was just purple guy and we knew nothing. william afton is most interesting when we have all these relationships and dynamics where we can seriously study and speculate the circumstances behind/around his actions, when he has something to lose (and will lose). william afton is most stale when more things are added to his story without purpose, filling in gaps that were better unfilled or we didn't even know were there – anything after UCN, basically. bro isn't scary anymore because he's either peepaw afton who's brought back despite his story being over, or he's cartoon network's newest over-the-top villian that you can't take seriously.

okay anyway. ANYWAY. william doesn't hate his kids. even if he's a shitty father, i think he still loves his kids. why else would he try and scare his kids away from the robots if he didn't want them to die? why would he design circus baby after his daughter if he didn't care for her, adore her, even? if you believe the theory that he talked to cc through the fredbear plush (idr if that's actually canon), why would he be trying to protect/comfort him?

i don't think he's a perfect, or even a good father, by any means. if you interpret him to be on the better side, that's great and fine. i'd love to hear how other people interpret/characterize afton if you wanna share! continuing on for this post, i'm going to lay out how i personally see william afton.

to me, he is someone who is very concerned and preoccupied with his image and how others view him & his family. even if he's super shitty and awful towards his kids, he at least cares that they all look good as a family unit, that they're well behaved, that he can send family portrait holiday cards to all his business partners and investors.

he strikes me very much as the typical authoritarian parent of the 80s. harsher on his sons because "men don't cry," wants his kids to say "yes, sir," and "no, sir," believes in "tough love," often says "my house, my rules," he has the final say in everything, maybe thinks hitting them from time to time is a normal, necessary punishment. not all entirely malicious, but thinks he's doing what's best, what's right, acting like a parent and father Should act, perhaps how he himself was raised. unfortunately, a very common parental mindset (even outside of serial killers). maybe he was a little scarier sometimes though, a little more unhinged or violently angry. who's to say.

but he's still just a guy who could exist in real life. he still eats dinner with his family every night, hangs his kids' drawings on the fridge, had to turn the car around because they wouldn't stop fighting in the backseat, attended awkward parent-teacher conferences, everything. he was once a new father who happily came home with his first newborn, lost countless nights of sleep over the course of two more, loves them because they're his.

meticulously and senselessly killed children, then came home and tucked his own into bed and kissed them goodnight.

he can be abusive and still love his kids. he can be a murderer and still care for his own kids' lives. maybe the loss of his own kids is what triggered his actions, or maybe it was something else. i'm fine with not knowing because we don't need to know everything, and it's more interesting when we don't.

Something Is Seriously Wrong With This Guy And We Don't Know What or Why. when acquaintances find out he's a suspected murderer, it should be shocking and upsetting. he's such a great man and father, he wouldn't murder those kids! when michael discovers his father's crimes, he should be in denial. sure, he could be scary sometimes, but he wouldn't kill anyone... right? there's a great cognitive dissonance between who he appears to be and who he actually is.

whether william descended into grief-induced madness and obsession, or was just always some kind of freak, or both, i don't think he saw his own family as disposable. even if he didn't truly love them, he at least needed to keep up his own facade as a friendly family man. personally i like to see him as someone who was a shitty father but still loved his kids, because people like that exist, and it makes him a much more interesting, realistic, and nuanced character than if he just didn't care about them At All.

[stans-kissing]

I'm just gonna keep sending stanbel asks until my break ends

MABEL WAS SUPER HEARTBROKEN AFTER HER LATEST ATTEMPT AT SUMMER ROMANCE FAILED SO SHE'S MOPING IN HER STAN CAKES AND STAN WALKS UP AND SHE'S LIKE 'I was supposed to have a date tonight what do I do nowwwww' and Stan's like 'Oh sweetie I'm sorry boys are the worst. We could stay in and watch movies if you want?' and Mabel interprets this as Date so she's like 'yes but you're wearing your suit and you're gonna come to my bedroom door with flowers and... ' and Stan's like 'well if it makes you happy okay'

i love this. i love his. thilvoe this.ilvoe this. okay. first time writing stanbel. lmk if i got it wronf. id ont nknow if this is what uouwere foingw iththis this. but this mainly about the aftermath to their date ok.

stan would be like aahaahah silly mabel she doesnt mean anything by this shes just being a young girl and im the weirdo for gteting all flustered when she clings to my arm as we walk downstairs and shes just being an innocent kid when she bats her eyelashes all doll-like and im just the weirdo here. i need tp repress my old man urges im foing this for her because shes upset and i love her aand iw ant to make her feel better. he has the most conflicting annoying emotions throughout the whole thing right and ofc bc hes stan he hates himself for it bc he almost slips and forgets hes on a 'date' with ihs niece yadda ydda you get the idea

mabel however is like yes yes yes my plan is owrking mwhahaha i am determined to romance that old man bc shes mabel and she had been like. purposefully throwing herseld all over him right so wheneber their date is over and mabel has to go to bed shes like grunkle staaan youre supposed to walk me to my door!! so hes like sigh ok and carries her upstairs bridal stylw and sets her down infront of her door and he's like alright pumpkin, bed time goofnight loveyou and she tugs on his sleeve with a little pout and looks up at him with her big anime eyes and is like.. grunkle stan.. youre supposed to give me a kiss goodbye.. thats what they do in all the movies.. all shy and and pokin her bottom lip out and stans like Guh. ma m m abel i . Not even thinking that he could just kiss her on the cheek bc hes been going through it all night but yknow. if shes asking. he cant say no to his little girl can he?? he swallows nervously and decides fuck it and leans down to press a little kiss to her pouty lips and he has to bite back a groan because holy fuck he's always wanted to do that and her lips felt so so soft against his even if it was just for a moment and he can feel her sticky glittery lipgloss on his lips and then her little hands are on either side of his face and she pulls him down to press another kiss to his lips and he just caves and pulls her in, wrapping hands around her and tugging her closer, licking her bottomlip open, tasting the flavored lipgloss and feeling over his braces and she whines into his mouth and his hands get tangeled in her hair and he moves to nip at her neck, losing himself and pressing her impossibly closer and she lets out a high pitched moan

And then they hear shuffling from the room next to them and stan can hear dipper's soft footstepspadding towards the door and hes liek Fuck oh mygod and pulls away from mabel and she's jst starin up at him wide-eyed n panting, looking absolutely fucked and oh god if that sight doesn't give him an instant boner and then dipper opens the door all blinkey and sleepy and he's like are u guys ok did i hear someone crying and stn just stutters out some shit like uhmgmm no mabels just going to bed okbye and he skitters away cuz hes a pusssy

anyways yeah thakn you i kinda ran with this sowwwyyyy

PELASE DONT STO SENDING ME ASKS I CANOT PROMISE ILL ANSSER LL OF THEM BC IM SO LAZY BTUPELAASASEE DONT STOP I LVOEV LOVELVOE ALL THE 6 TRILLION YOU SEND ME PLS NEVER DIE