#hello does anything i wrote make any sense

[mothwingwritings]

Miscommunication

F!Reader X Pickle

Hello everyone! Sorry for the lack of communication. I’ve been doing this or that, working on stuff, surviving summer, you know how it is.

I have been picking away at quite a few fics recently, but I am all over the place so they are all getting worked on/done/edited at different paces. I wrote this lil Pickle fic in the midst of it all. It was born purely from the thought of a yandere licking up your tears that they themself were the cause of, so I picked a guy and ran with that. I chose Picky because my feral mans does NOTrealize how much of a menace he is to you but by God he’s gonna keep on forcing his love on you until one of you dies. :)

18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

Thank you and enjoy!

WARNINGS: Noncon, forced interaction/cuddling, dacryphilia, miscommunication (if you couldn’t tell by the title), light editing, 18+ only!!!

There were plenty of things Pickle loved about you.

He loved the way you looked. So different from the people of his time, you were distinct in a way all your own. The moment he first laid his eyes upon you he was beseeched by curiosity, your unique appearance adding to the intrigue of your already undeniable beauty and charm. You were smaller, softer, and far more polished than the women he was used to. With glossy well-kept hair and not a mark of dirt or grime upon your body, you appeared to him to be almost glowing. This pure presentation made him feel as if he was beholding some glorious creature from another planet, not a mere human woman. You were definitely something that should be far out of his reach, breathtakingly lovely, but unattainable. Yet somehow here you were, right within his grasp, ripe for his consumption. Having such a gorgeous and otherworldly creature in his vicinity was far too enticing, how could he not be expected to stake his claim?

He loved the way you smelled, though those strange sprays you coated your body with were a bit much for his liking. He preferred your natural scent, the one you always tried to mask for whatever reason, the one that differentiated you from the rest of the herd. He could pick it out from anywhere at any time no matter how far from him you strayed, but it would become especially pungent when you were worked up or excited. He relished those moments, pleased to get a whiff of it through the artificial cover of stinking flowers and fruits. Heady and ambrosial, he would bask in your natural essence, inhaling it deeply as if he were receiving a treat.

He also loved the way you sounded, though your words made no sense to him. All the people that surrounded him seemed to make the same kinds of noises, their lips forming sounds that he was sure held all manner of meaning, but none of it he was privy to. Not that it mattered to him really. Different forms of communication suited him much better than spoken word ever could anyway, and despite the lack of common speech he shared with his new peers, he got by just fine. When Pickle bared his teeth or showed open pleasure, those that were nearby seemed to understand him all the same, so there had never been much need to put thought into their dialogue.

… That was, until he met you. It frustrated him sometimes, when you would speak to him with words he could not comprehend. When you talked with a smile he could assume he did something pleasing, or at the very least you weren’t upset, but when you would frown and raise your voice… What exactly was upsetting you? If it was something he did he wanted to correct it right away, your pretty smile suited you much better than a grumpy frown did. He’d do just about anything to keep it on your face forever, if only he knew the words to say or understood the specific requests you spoke to make that happen. The sounds that spilled from your throat… What praises and admonishments was he missing? What words could he say back to keep you smiling, laughing, happy? He wanted to know, struggled to know, but the language barrier was just too great, leaving him distraught and guessing.

When you spoke to other people (other men particularly) and they understood you perfectly, chuckling and nodding, responding to you in kind… It upset him. Who were they to communicate with you so freely? Who were they to speak with you so openly, when all he could seem to get across was rudimentary ideas and feelings? Even if he loved to hear the cadence of your voice, the lack of understanding and the annoyance these mysterious conversations caused was something he couldn’t quite shake.

But even with all the adoration he felt for you, there was one, and only one, thing he didn’t love about you- your tears.

In his era, cries from your mate meant one of a small handful of things. They were hurt and/or scared, there was a threat nearby and they needed protection, or they simply needed their mates help with something. Regardless of which of these options may have brought on the tears, it was always very easy to figure out what the situation was and for the other party to act accordingly.

But each time you cried was a conundrum. You never seemed to shed just a few tears, throwing your heart into full on wailing at the top of your lungs each time your eyes began to remotely water. Whenever this would occur he would momentarily panic, scooping your perturbed body up to force you against his chest, desperate in his attempt to ascertain a cause of concern that would bring you to this state, one that he could never seem to find. He’d turn your body around this way and that, scouring every inch of you with his eyes and hands to check and see if he could pinpoint any wounds or blood. But while you thrashed and fought as he carried out his inspection, his hands always came back clean, and you never seemed to show particular distress when he pressed down on any given area of your body (save for your more private areas, but you always put up a fuss with those). He’d investigate your surrounding area, prowling for anyone or anything that may have scared you or caused alarm, but found nary a soul or item out of place that could have caused you such distress.

That only left the third option- that you were looking to him for help. But help with what? He had already secured you in the safest place he could find, nestling you far away from any potential threats or creatures that could cause you harm. Though he knew you were not a fan of the dank, malodorous, stone underbelly of the village, it was something you would have to get used to. Keeping you elsewhere was simply too risky. Besides, this area was familiar to him, being not unlike some of the cave dwellings of his old home. And with the pathways being so straightforward and long, he could easily monitor surrounding activity and hide you away should someone show up to cause problems (not that anyone would, most seemed to ignore this place entirely, which was another one of its many appeals).

The paths also snaked deep underground, with exits leading rather far out from the more bustling areas of civilization. It made it easy to hunt and gather, so he had no problems providing you with food, clothing, bedding-anything at all you may need he brought to you, and he was happy to do so. He took honor in being your provider, your lover, your mate.

You were safe, you were cared for, and you were loved by him. He showed it in every way he could, serving and providing in ways that went above and beyond what any other potential partner could do for you. Down here in the depths, he shielded you from all that may have hurt you in your old life. Maybe he didn’t understand your speech, but he could clearly see the toll living with the others above ground was taking on you. Each slump of your shoulder and sigh from your lips was recorded in his memory, the weary look you often wore as you pushed yourself harder than necessary haunted his thoughts until he was pushed into action. Every man whose misplaced comments made you scowl had met a grisly end by his hands, assuring they would never bother you again. Every stress of your old life had been removed, all of the agonies of your previous day to day a thing of the past.

Now the only thing you had to focus on was being a good mate to him- a skill you already excelled at by simply existing. You had no need to be sad, you were perfect, and he was doing all he could to show you this.

So why? Why did you always cry?

Even now as he was buried deep inside of you, the pleasure of feeling you stretch to accommodate his massive size so intense he could barely maintain his sanity, tears continued to spill freely from your eyes.  There was absolutely no reason for them- you were always such a good girl for him, bringing him pleasure and joy he scarcely believed was achievable. If anything you should be proud about how well you take him, about how incredibly good you were making him feel, about how flawless you were as his mate. He loved you, he adored you, he would do any and everything for you, and he planned on doing so until his dying day.

Yet still, you cried.

He couldn’t keep them from happening, and he couldn’t think of any other way to stop them, so the least he could do is try and staunch them for a bit. Holding your face still between his hands, he laved his rough tongue slowly over the apples of your cheeks, passing over your tightly clenched eyes in an attempt to cleanse you of your malaise. Time and time again he lapped at your face like a mother lion cleaning it’s cub, moving from the left cheek to the right cheek in quick succession to drink up as many of your salty tears as he could.

Eventually it seemed to work, or at least it caused your upset sobbing to turn into little more than gentle mewling. Maybe you were just doing this to appease him, or perhaps you were finally sharing in the immense pleasure he had been experiencing, overshadowing whatever negative feelings caused you to cry to begin with. Regardless, the tears were trickling to a standstill, and while they weren’t completely quelled, seeing them diminish caused him to smile brightly. He could consider this a victory.

But as he stared down at your tear stained face, moist and red from a mixture of his saliva and your own upset, he couldn’t deny that there wasn’t a charm to witnessing you in such a state. As he picked up his pace, reaching a particularly sweet spot inside of you, you began to scream out, overcome with the intensity of it all. Once more water seeped into your eyes, and he watched mesmerized as fat tears slid down your face, accompanied by whimpers each time his brutal pacing brushed your core. The way your tears accented your ecstasy, adding to the breath taking view only he would ever have the delight of seeing, he couldn’t find himself hating your cries any longer.

Maybe he had been misguided this whole time, realizing now that this may just be another special attribute of yours. He was starting to understand you better, and felt a fool for being so mistaken for so long. Your cries were unique, acting as a sign of immense happiness, not distress. He laughed slightly at his own blunder, it wouldn’t be the first time he had misunderstood you, but this certainly was the most ridiculous miscommunication.

His smile grew as he thrust into you victoriously, elated at his triumph in unlocking a great mystery about you. This whole time he should have never tried to stop them. From now on, he should try and make you cry more.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵

Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻‍♂️

Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.

NSFW contents under the cut 😉

Erwin Smith

Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.

Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.

He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.

But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.

Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.

Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.

His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.

His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.

Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.

When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.

When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.

Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.

I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.

When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.

Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.

But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.

You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.

Levi Ackerman

Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.

Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.

Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.

Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.

However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...

It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.

That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)

Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.

Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.

Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.

Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.

He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.

Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.

Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.

After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.

He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.

A bath sounds good now.

Hanji Zoë

Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.

Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.

So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.

And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.

"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.

You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.

Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.

"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.

You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."

Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.

With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)

For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.

Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.

With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.

When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.

Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.

Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.

Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.

"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[bluerosegardens]

hello! Is it okay if you write dorm leaders reaction to a heavily energetic reader please, if you don’t want to Idm ^^

of course, anon! thank you so much for requesting, i hope you like it!

dorm leaders + gn!energetic!reader

c/w: i can't write for jamil very well but i tried, leona is annoyed by you but respects you still, can you tell i can’t write for vil. malleus’s part is like 60x more romantic than the rest of the characters sorry 🤧

notes: ok so i have only completed book 3, but ive gotten plenty of spoilers about the next four books so i think i wrote for them pretty well just a heads up tho

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS find you a little hard to keep up with. He himself has his outbursts and episodes like anybody else, but that also comes with anger, so he does his best to suppress them. But you? No, you were always this way, and in a positive manner. It almost reminded him of Kalim, except that you could handle yourself and seemed to be relatively smart, seeing that you were passing your classes as a non-magical person in a magical school.

Your excitability sometimes led to you have an evident, though not purposeful, disregard for the rules. It was irksome, yes, and it took a lot of restraint from him not to lash out at you as much as he may at Ace or Deuce—he still feels guilty from his Overblot, and besides, you’re a lot easier to stand at times than compared to those two. But, overall, he still manages, opting to instead recite the rule you broke tamely, and receiving an understanding nod from you that makes him pleased. Quietly, he’ll let out this small sigh, a symbol of his appreciation for your respect of his strict ways. It isn’t easy for him to change, and while he’s trying his best, it’s nice to know he has somebody who’s willing to comply with the rules for his sake.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR somehow gets even sleepier in your presence. Just the sight of you having so much energy makes him lethargic. Why were you always so peppy? How were you always so peppy? It didn’t make any sense to him. You being this way wouldn’t be so much of an issue if you weren't so persistent. But here you were, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him, and here he was, tired and annoyed and letting you drag him to his classes just to shut you up. It was like having a brighter, more talkative version of Cheka that actually knew what made him tick. It was irritating, but if he really hated it so much, why'd he always comply and go along with you? He'd never admit it, not in a million years, but he has this respect for you after all you've done for NRC, so he finds it best to give into your wishes, no matter how childish you seem. Because he knows that you aren't. He's seen it play out with every single Overblot. You're a lot more clever than you look, Herbivore, and he gives credit where credit is due.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO has to deal with Floyd on the daily, so it's not like this is anything new to him. If anything, it's better, considering your energy doesn't take the form of violence, like a certain Leech twin. At first, Azul did mistakenly assume your energy to be included with stupidity, which was a grave error on his part, when he discovered your scheme to destroy his contracts. In fact, he really thought you to be dumb enough to forget to even drink the water breathing potion before you went underwater to the museum. He was harshly incorrect, however, and so now he deals with the price of having to put up with your bounciness. You visit the Mostro Lounge quite often, helping out for an extra profit where you could and checking up on Azul, despite his protests against it. He's internally thankful, somewhere deep down, but it makes him embarrassed to admit it.

JAMIL VIPER is tired of this treatment. What did he ever do to deserve this? Is this punishment for his ill thoughts toward Kalim he's harbored for so many years? Why'd a Kalim Part Two have to come along? And hang around the Scarabia dorm so much? He was tired, over it, and so done with this crap. At the very least, you're not irredeemably dumb, and you're able to handle and care for yourself. You've made that quite evident from your life in Ramshackle to the way you've dealt with numerous overblots. He's surprised someone of your.. nature.. could be so responsible. So, as a minor thanks for not being completely stupid, he does his very best to.. avoid you. Why? Well, because even though you're tolerable, he'd prefer to not have a complete outburst of anger at you, fueled by Kalim's irresponsibility and the two of your energetic natures combined. So, consider this a favor. He's trying to be considerate, let him do what he needs to do.

VIL SCHOENHEIT is intrigued, not annoyed, but not overjoyed, either. Epel’s a handful already, so now that he’s taking on yet another project, he’d prefer it if you were a little more compliant than the purple haired first year. He understood it felt difficult to sit still for a while, but just try for him, okay? Otherwise he finds it rather endearing. He thinks it’s cute, the way you get excited to see him all the time. It’s flattering, definitely. He just wishes you'd sit still while he paints your nails, potato.

IDIA SHROUD is overwhelmed please leave him alone why are you so wild god help him. He’s already constantly afraid of Kalim and Cater jumping him, now he’s gotta worry about another secret THIRD threat? this is NOT fun he NEVER should have exited his room WHY did he let Ortho drag him around today. You kind of scare him into attending classes. Though he guesses (?) he’s appreciative of having another person who seems so enthusiastic about games like he is. But please don’t scare him like that or else he WILL be going into conniptions.

MALLEUS DRACONIA finds it interesting, adorable and very fascinating. He’d adore you regardless of what you were like, but this is just so endearing to him. It’s one thing that people seem to get iffy around him, whether that be out of respect or fear or both. But you don’t seem to be overly respectful of him, nor afraid. It might seem like a death wish to most, but in your case? You were too enthralled with the current task of running up to him excitedly every time you saw him to even give it any thought. And that is what he appreciates and desires so much out of you. It brings a smile to his lips every time you bound outside of Ramshackle at night to walk with him, or when you have this big grin on your face as you talk about something that interests you. He couldn’t ask for it any other way, really.

[nightwngz]

Hiya! May I request a Hal Jordan with a shy fem or gn reader that he wants to bring out of their shell? Can be fluff or smut, I like both :3 Thank you so much! I’m glad you love Hal as much as I do!

BLUSHING !

hal jordan x fem!reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . fluff. A cliché because I like them. Hal bothers the reader because she blushes very often. Age gap? (9/10 years). Unrealistic and fanciful references to the operation of what is probably a military aircraft, try to ignore them to make the fantasy more enjoyable. Kisses.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. . . I enjoyed writing this request. I was getting a bit tired of the constant smut stuff, so I wrote this as a refreshing break from that. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Throughout their lives, many people have had a friend who used to be completely shy and introverted. That person you had to speak for because they couldn't say more than two words without getting nervous. Unfortunately, you were that person, and Dick Grayson was the best friend of the Titans who rushed to your rescue when you were forced to socialize.

On a mission alongside the Justice League, you couldn't help but feel intimidated. They were all the greatest heroes in the world, the epitome of heroism that you aspired to become. In comparison, you were a rookie with little experience. Even Dick, who was almost the same age as you, often had much more experience. In this regard, you couldn't help but feel an intense sense of nervousness that wouldn't let you keep your composure.

You stayed behind Dick and Kory throughout the entire meeting, trying to blend in. You feared that at any moment you might be forced to step forward and say something, so you just stayed behind the couple until you had to return to the tower.

— Any questions about the plan? — Dick concluded, crossing his arms.

— Just one. — Said an unfamiliar voice. — Is the new recruit hiding behind you coming to say hello?

Quickly, your cheeks flushed intensely. This was what you feared: being forced to introduce yourself when all you wanted was to stay in your space behind everyone, unnoticed.

With your head down, your cheeks flushed, and your nerves on edge, you leaned forward to answer as best you could.

�� H-hello.

Once the guys moved away, you could briefly see that it had been Green Lantern who had dared to ask if he could say hello. Barely had you responded to him when a bold smile spread across his face, making you feel much more flushed than before.

— Well... — Dick congratulated you quietly as he positioned himself again as a barrier, covering you. —Does anyone have any doubts about the plan?

You kept thinking about Green Lantern in the coming days, occasionally while hugging the pillow. You thought he was attractive, but his flirtatious demeanor could be intimidating, even more so than Batman's, and that's considering you had only exchanged a word with him.

When you thought about it properly, you felt overwhelmed by the questionable age difference. He could easily be up to 10 years older than you, but that couldn't stop you from being attracted to him. However, if just saying hello made you so nervous, how were you supposed to flirt with an older man? You were pathetic.

When you returned to the Watchtower to complete a mission, he stood next to you and looked you up and down. You were incredibly surprised by the height difference between the two of you.

When you noticed his presence watching you, your cheeks flushed a deep red. He just chuckled with a hint of tenderness, which made you feel even more embarrassed.

— You blush easily, don't you? — He asked you kindly. — How cute.

You couldn't answer, the words got stuck in your throat. You tried to make your cheeks stop burning, but they only grew redder. You wanted to run and hide, but you didn't have the courage, so you just stood there.

— You don't have to be ashamed, honey. I don't bite. Not all the time, of course — He joked.

A strand of hair fell across your face, obstructing your view, but you didn't notice until Hal's hand brushed it aside, tucking it behind your ear. You dared to glance at him for a second; he was too handsome to assume he was flirting instead of just being friendly.

— I…

— What did you say, honey? I can't hear you when you mumble. — He smiled at you.

Finally, you started to listen to Dick giving his speech about the mission for the Titans and the league, but you could only think about Hal. It was the only thing you could think about during the two-hour meeting.

He was incredibly outgoing compared to you. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was so attractive: his confidence, his charm, and how outgoing he was. You hadn't talked to him much, just twice, but you were drawn to his energy, and you just wanted to know what it would be like to be with someone like that, but not anyone, just him.

Your mind wandered into practically unreal romantic fantasies. Perhaps it was obvious that, due to past experiences, you had little confidence in love and that's why you hoped that he would be unique among others. However, you would hit yourself on the head with your own fist when you remembered that he probably wasn't even interested in you.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. You felt like an idiot.

Furthermore, it was most likely that once that mission was over, Hal Jordan wouldn't hear from you again until the Titans were needed again. So maybe, it was perhaps naive to think or hope to run into him somewhere outside of work. What started as shyness turned into a huge ball of limitations trying to convince you that feeling attraction was a very bad idea. However, you kept blushing three times as much as usual every time you saw him, every single time!

Your conversations between you began to flow more naturally. Hal, being the flatterer and flirt that he is, did everything he could to bring you out of your shell. In particular, he had developed an obsession with making you blush, mentioning everything from simple things like how beautiful you were when you blushed to more vulgar things, but still eliciting that feeling of attraction in you.

One day, you were fortunate enough to be completely alone in some area of the base. Since everything was located in space, you were lucky to see the stars from a better position. They looked so close that you thought you could pick them up with your fingers.

— Have you ever traveled by plane? — he asked, standing in the doorway, admiring how fascinated you were watching the stellar spectacle.

— Several times. These are some of the advantages Dick has as Batman's son.

He smiled, approaching you and extending his hand for you to take.

— Come with me.

You followed him blindly, taking his hand. It wasn't long before both of you were on land, more precisely in a city called 'Coast City', right in front of 'Ferris Aircraft', where Hal stopped and removed the ring from his finger to tuck it inside his pocket. Everything was starting to get more confusing with each step.

— Hal... — You murmured with a blush. — What does that mean? I told you, I've flown in an airplane before.

— But you’ve never flown with me.

That's his line. The most memorable phrase that anyone who has spent time with him has heard him say. It made you feel special, even though deep down you knew you weren't. But flying with him excited you so much that it didn't matter that you weren't the first to go with him.

After bribing the security guard at the entrance with the excuse, "Do it for the beautiful lady," you were both in the air. You marveled at the view of the night sky from the co-pilot's window, feeling the adrenaline rush through your veins from the speed, which made you even more excited. Perhaps it was this that made you smile from ear to ear, as you had never done before. Your fingers danced to the rhythm of your companion's excitement.

— How is it possible that everything seems more exciting from up here? — You asked him, completely amused by the experience.

— How is it possible that I had to take you on a tour of the sky to make you lose your shyness?

In a hurried impulse, you grabbed Hal by the chin to turn his face towards you until you could see his eyes, and without much thought, you pressed your lips against his. It was a swift motion, but you kissed him intensely until it was necessary to let go so he could focus back on the road.

— Maybe the adrenaline is giving me the confidence to do whatever it takes — you said, but a few seconds later you blushed. — I'm not sure how long that will last.

Quickly, he moved his fingers to a bold red button in the center of the control panel labeled "Autopilot”. Then he settled into his seat, and you leaned back against the armrest. He was very close to you, watching you with those bright brown eyes you loved so much.

— Then we should make the most of every minute, right?

Your cheeks flushed as usual, which made him smile. He leaned down to your neck and kissed it with great devotion, making you tingle. Your hands ran down his back, caressing his aviator jacket, the one you once dreamed of wearing when he had the desire to lend it to you, infused with his scent.

Minutes later, he kissed your lips. He caressed them with his own, exploring you entirely, leaving no corner untested. His lips felt moist and soft, just as you had imagined they would. His minty breath slid down your throat as Hal rejoiced that your lips tasted like cherry lip gloss, delicious and addictive.

It was not only the first time you kissing inside a plane in the middle of the sky, leaning back in the co-pilot's seat, but it was also the first time you found yourself in this situation. For a moment, as his fingers pressed against your thigh, you wondered if you were doing the right thing or if you should tell him to stop and land. But honestly, everything seemed easier from up there: with Hal Jordan at your feet and a starry sky around you, it was easy to feel like you were in control.

— Have I told you how cute you are when you're not afraid of anything?

It was the first time you had gone this far with someone, but you didn't want to stop. Your blush and embarrassment wouldn't be able to defeat you this time.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Hello again! LOVE op's posts about static moth so so much they are giving me ungodly amounts of serotonin ... It's genuinely been such a joy reading your interpretations of their relationship and what makes them work the way they do. Even with the limited amount of content we have of them I believe you've nailed their respective personalities and behavior patterns spectacularly and every single post has been extremely interesting to go through and to analyze off of!

Regarding the reasons as to why Valentino likes vox as a romantic partner, I also believe part of it has to do with some of Vox's more stalkerish tendencies as well? His (not yet canon but close) Voyeurism, his constant need for control, etc.

This is more of a head canon than anything else, but I do genuinely believe Valentino enjoys the obsessive attention he can get only from Vox as it does wonders to quell his constant sense of emptiness, his subsequent feelings of abandonment, and the anxieties that follow. The fact that he knows Vox enjoys stalking him, (probably) gets off on it and is actively deriving pleasure from simply watching him go about his day may be adding to the thrill and content as well. The thing is, as generally absurd and problematic it is, this behavior seems to bring a sense of security for both Partys involved: Throughout the show during all 4 episodes that feature Valentino's presence, we have yet to see a single scene with him without at least one camera tracking his movements. They are everywhere. They follow him wherever he goes, Vox can follow him wherever he goes whenever he so chooses, even to Vals own personal quarters. They are a massive, glaring red flag and quite frankly would bring a suffocating amount of pressure and sense of captivity to any other person under the same circumstance. But Val never brings this up, so I feel he either doesn't think he's in a favourable condition to complain, or he likes the idea of Vox always having his eyes on him. For me I think it's the latter, and I think for him to act so nonchalant around vox's cameras and his potentially constant, 24/7-hour surveillance, it has to have offered him some form of comfort. It has to have made him feel good, either about himself, about the state of their relationship, or both.

(apologies for the sloppy wording, hope you have a wonderful day!)

Awww, Anon, you are so sweet! Reading your question brought me so much joy <3 I think your perspective is spot on, and I wholeheartedly agree with it. I must admit I initially omitted this aspect of their relationship from my initial response because the question specifically focused on love rather than "sexy and toxic stuff." For me, voyeurism and stalking kink are more closely related to the latter category.

That being said, Val undoubtedly enjoys having Vox's eyes always on him. Being a diva and a performer, he relishes performing for Vox, especially knowing Vox's likes all the deranged shit but desperately tries to hide it underneath his clean façade. So he’s basically like “I’m going to hit this bitch for you, Voxy. As a treat.” recognizing that Vox couldn't do it himself without tarnishing his image. In return, Val receives even more attention and admiration, perpetuating the cycle.

Since you've given me the opportunity to delve into Vox's voyeurism further, I'll add some additional insights (I've been meaning to write a proper post about it for some time now but that rabbit hole is just too deep). It's fundamentally about control, of course, and it's simply a kink. However, kinks are not merely about arousal; they involve complex psychological dynamics. People a lot smarter than me wrote a shit ton of essays about voyeurism, especially since it is a very relevant topic in the visual media era. One sentence about Lacan's interpretation of it grasps really well what I have in mind when I think about Vox:

By appropriating the other as image, the voyeur makes it an object of pleasure*, while remaining uninvolved in the other's intimacy.

It’s a parasitic relationship. A voyeur gets symbolic control over their object and it gives them the sense of being powerful. And they don’t have to offer anything themselves – no effort that is required to gain control in situations with two subjects involved, nor the vulnerability necessary in consensual relationships. They can just freely feed on others without offering anything in exchange.

Without delving too deeply into philosophy, Vox's inability to live authentically stems from his obsession with his image, his guardedness, and his need for control. This sets a lot of limitations about what he can allow himself to personalmy experience. So he derives dopamine from "stealing" others' experiences and emotions, while avoiding the effort and vulnerability required in genuine connections.

*In a broader sense, voyeuristic pleasure isn't necessarily sexual; it can manifest as the thrill some people experience from watching macabre imagery in movies, eavesdropping on neighbors' drama, or even watching overly personal vlogs.

[gotham-daydreams]

Hi! I love your gothan platonic batfam series, but every time I read it I can't help but wonder what Duke's reaction to all this would be. He's one of my fave batfam characters, do you have any plans to add him in later chapters?

Just curious, no pressure. Hopefully I didn't come off as pushy. (sorry if i did)

Have a good day! <3

Hello! And you didn't come off as pushy, no worries :]

I'll be honest and admit that I have thought of adding Duke to the series- but if I was going to do that in a more organic manner, and just generally in a way that makes sense- that would've been in Chapter 2 or 3. Though trust me I am still debating... and the only reason I'm hesitating is because I don't think I'd be able to capture his personality, or really just him as a person very well.

Granted, I do inherently view yandere versions of characters as OOC for... various reasons (some of which are obvious, especially when it comes to the Batfam and DC characters in general), but I do try to keep very close to the character (or my general understanding and interpretation of them for things like DC, who have multiple canons and such) and write them in a way that does still compliment or adhere to parts of their personality or overall mindset... if only generally. Like Bruce and his closeness to those around them yet the distance he so desperately tries to keep - not for himself, but rather those around him. His strive for justice and to do good to make up for a sin, a fault that isn't his to forgive or one he hardly had anything to do with and so on. How that makes him inherently protective if only at a distance and in silence. How he tries to keep himself away from others, if only to protect them, and yet finds himself surrounded anyway. Etcetera etcetera.

Case and point- I don't have a really good graps of Duke's general character and aren't confident enough to write him into the Not Series at the moment- and by the time I do, it may feel shoehorned in and just not as great as it could be (even if a line I wrote in Chapter 1 was meant to be him..). Though I am learning more about him! And if anyone would like to share what they know and their interpretations of his character they have and such while I still have asks open, I'd love to read and see them :]

In future series', oneshots, and just general things I plan to post and share on this blog, Duke will very much make an appearance and we'll reach 10 yanderes for the Batfam instead of just 9. (Some series' which will definitely be longer than the Not Series.)

On that note, I have thought of how Duke would feel (and some others earlier on have asked a bit as well), and from the little I know of him, this is how I think at the moment he would generally react/feel (though it may be inaccurate and such because of what I mentioned previously 😅):

I think he would start out as one of the many others that actually live in the manor or just so happened to be there at the time — and that being he feels guilt first (unlike the only person in that house who doesn't/didn't) and just... wouldn't know what to do. The time passed and everything the reader has done sort of leaves him stumped, and just stuck processing until everyone's rushing out and around to find you and before he knows it- he's following out with them to do the exact same thing.

I think he leaves before everyone else, and considering that he does daytime patrol, it isn't as odd to see him out and about anyway. Though the frantic-ness of his movements and actions are weird, and for once, more outwardly, Duke panics.

He feels bad, of course he does, and more similarly to Cass- he can only wish that he could do things with out. That he wants to be in the room when you got your awards or had been there through the hardships he knows you undoubtedly faced without even having to see the medkit like Bruce does in Chapter 2. So he goes out to look for you, but not so much for your safety and more so to just... apologize. To say every little thing he can in hopes to make things better, to lessen the damage.

And of course, just to see you.

More than anything Duke wants to make it up to you right away, but has half a mind to know he'll have to take things slow. He's still sensible to some degree, if not only partially of half-insane just like the rest of the fam (minus a certain blonde and red head who are only a sliver of the way there), he knows it'll take time, that you probably won't forgive him right away. But that's okay! He can live with that, he understands that, but he just needs to see you. Just once- if only to see who you are now and the person you've become. If only to say an apology that might fall too flat or feel too empty considering the little he knows about you.

Just once. No matter how awkward it is or how much he regrets it later. Just once.

Though, despite that he is divided on bringing you home. It would be nice, sure, but by the time that discussion comes up he isn't sure that's the best idea. Even less so with how those that do want you home seem to want to go about it, and just generally the kind of people they are. Impulsive. Strong. Threatening- they'll scare you and do more damage then help ease tensions, and he doesn't want that to happen. You don't deserve that- even if he barely knows you. Duke can feel it, you don't. Even then, they help people out, not hurt them, not like they did with you.

Duke wants to spend time with you, but he's willing to do that outside of the manor if it means making you more comfortable and warm up to him a little more. As long as he sees you he can't complain...

So when Dick messes up, he's upset. Like everyone else besides Cassandra he doesn't know what happened but knows that something absolutely went wrong. Dick usually wasn't so obvious about things like that either, but with how hurt and just... broken he looks, they could all tell. Duke could tell.

Granted, he's not upset enough to change his mind, and if anything it definitely makes him more adamant about not bringing you home yet, but he can’t find it in himself to be fully against the idea, even then.

The one thing he wants to do after that, if anything, is more determined to make things right.

If Dick of all people couldn't make it up to you, then hell, maybe Duke can.

[livingformintyoongi]

Guilty As Sin? | Kim Taehyung x Reader [Preview]

a/n: Hello everyone! Sorry I've been gone for so long, I just started my first semester of architecture in August and I've barely had any free time :( it's been too stressful and it's too hard to have time to do anything but make plans or draw trees lol. Anyway, as I feel a bit guilty for not uploading anything for a few months, I'm bringing a little shot I wrote a few days ago as an apology while I try to finish the request I have pending. Please be patient with me <3

Warnings: Doctor!Taehyung x Doctor!reader, slight smut at the start, very little angst at the end. This is not finished as such. It's based on the song “Guilty as sin?” by Taylor Swift, it's just a little preview of the initial idea I had to write.

wc: 929

Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics

You closed your eyes tightly, feeling an electric current travel from your head to the tips of your toes; your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, your toes curling as your back curved, your chest colliding with his chest, both burning, both covered lightly in a layer of sweat from the exertion and heat that enveloped them.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered in a deep voice, licking a path from the center of your breasts to your chin. A proud smile took place on his face as you answered him with halting moans and desperate gasps. 

You had never felt so good in your whole life before, you wanted to tell him that, but it was so hard to make him understand your lips to utter that phrase. 

“M-more” you whispered, bringing one of your hands up to his hair, clinging to it as if your life depended on it. Taehyung's lips enveloped yours in a passionate kiss, his hips crashing into yours desperately, wanting to climax just as fast as you did. The sensation was so suffocating and addictive at the same time; you wanted it to end soon so you could ease the knot in your belly, but you didn't want it to stop either, you wanted it to cloud your every sense until you forgot your own name.

“Y/N” he growled against your neck, his hands clinging to your waist, keeping you as still as possible as he rammed harder. You clenched your jaw, trying futilely to keep your sighs of pleasure from escaping your throat. 

“Y/N” he said again, but this time it was different. His voice didn't sound as deep, and his grip on your waist was gone. Hands - smaller than the ones that gripped your waist - lightly gripped your shoulders, moving them back and forth as you listened as that much softer voice called your name.

Slit eyes and black hair was the first thing that greeted you when you opened your eyes. You sat up in bed lazily, observing the place around you. You were still in your room, there was sunlight filtering through the curtains, your body was wrapped by your sheets and pajamas and most importantly, you didn't have Taehyung on top of you fucking you. 

“You fell asleep” Hyunjin muttered, getting up from the edge of the bed he was sitting on to go back to his closet. He was wearing a suit - most likely a branded one - that covered his body perfectly, marking his slightly broad shoulders and small waist, it was very likely that, if he stretched a bit, his muscles would show through his shirt, a rather dangerous combination considering the vipers that worked with him in his father's company. 

You still remembered how, when he first got his position, you were quite annoyed at how the models he worked with threw themselves at him every chance they got; now, however, it didn't seem to hurt like it did in the beginning, you just got tired of asking him to push them away, you got bored of having to wait for him to decide to tell all those tall, thin and beautiful women that he had a girlfriend. 

“Yes...” you mumbled, still sitting on the bed, watching as his body went back and forth from the closet to the mirror, trying on different ties to see which one would fit him best. “The green one I like” you looked at him through the mirror, hugging your knees. “Green is a nice color, don't you think?”.

“I don't like it” he replied after a few seconds, going back to the closet to pull out a black tie. He always wore the same stupid tie, why try on so many if he would go back to the same one, “I hate that color, it's hideous.”

“I like it” you whispered, looking at your toenails. They were the same color as his tie. It was the same tie you bought for your fourth anniversary. You painted your nails that color just so you could match him. “Why-?”

“Don't wear that color,” he stepped closer to you, extending his tie in your direction, “it wouldn't look good on you.” His hand stayed outstretched until you took the tie and began arranging it around his neck. You wondered for a second if he could tell how much you wanted to cry right now. Probably not. “I'll be late today” As usual, “don't wait up for me” I stopped doing that months ago, “Oh, and try not to fall asleep with your clothes on, it's annoying to have to be changing after a long day at work”.

“Yeah, sorry” you mumbled, finishing tying the knot in his tie. You tried to swallow the knot that had begun to form in your throat. Just a little longer, you thought, he's going away.

“I left some things in the kitchen in case you're hungry” he kissed your forehead just before leaving the room, a few seconds later you felt the front door close. Only then you could allow your tears to fall freely down your cheeks. 

You walked slowly to the kitchen, feeling another tightness in your chest as you saw what he had left for you on the table. A white bowl filled with strawberry milk in which floated chunks of whole grain cereal, blueberries and berries. You were allergic to blueberries. You sighed, taking the bowl and wrapping it with allusa so it wouldn't spoil. “It's okay, it's the thought that counts, Y/N” you whispered between hiccups.

Masterlist.

[fanfictionsworld]

what if reader is having a very bad day and when they goes back home, Undertaker/Sebastian greets them and maybe tease them like usual but their s/o burst out crying? what would they react?

Sad reader/gender natural which i hope i wrote well/Undertaker x reader/Sebastian x reader/some fluff/just emotions that are beaing expressed in a strange way or is just me not knowing how to express my emotions/if this comes out weird pleas forgive me i am not good at telling people that i am sad/

Today was just not one of your happy days.

Its like that no matter what you try to do,you just could not cheer your self up.

Even some happy music could not change it.

Some thing in the back of your head just keeps putting you on the edge.

You can seem to stop it and its irritating you very much.

You are usually in check with your emotions and you proud your self on that.

I mean if everybody knew that you would feeling sad that would draw attention to you and you really do not want that.

Especialy with Sebastian who would literally trap you in his embrace until you tell him whats wrong.

But today was different you just could control your self,you just wanted to cry nothing else.

Its not like anything was wrong you just felt empty thats all.

Sebastian would make a big deal out of it if he saw you sad,which you did not want.

So as soon as you heard the front door of you apartment open,you pulled your self together,came out of your room and faced him.

You were smiling,saying hello and how was his day,etc.

Sebastian sensed something was wrong,but for now just chose to ignore it.

His focuse was now on a children's coloring book at the table.

You paint when something is bothering you,but he does not know that.

,,Darling,why is there a childrens coloring book at your table?

,,Are not perhaps too old for that,or maybe i am am falling for a baby,hm?"

That was it even though you knew he was just joking something about that seem to upset you,but you just do not no why.

And in the middle of the kitchen you brust out crying and you can seem to stop.

Your breath is heavier and you just can not stop your self,you feel like passing out,but strong arms catch you.

Sebastian lifts you up carring you to the room.

Upon entering he sets you down on your bed and his kises seems to calm you down.

You can not look at him you turn to the other side of the bed.

zou can hear a deep sigh from him and a large weight pulling you.

He has hugged you and know you cry even more.

,,You know i sensed something is wrong from the moment i walked in,but i thought nothing of it choosing to talk to you about it later,but if my teasing about the colouring book made cry you have my deepest apology my dear."

You wipe your tears take a deep breath and try to gather some strength to speak to him.

,,Its not your fault i do not care if you made fun of me for the colouring book i just had a really tough day its not like anything happened its just...its like..there something but there is not...i just i do not know how to explain it you know and i did not want you to worry because its nothing its just that its something and thats something is nothing and it would be stupied of me to say hey i am upset,sad and on the average of bearking down beacuse of something,but that something is nothing."

,,Darling if you are upset,sad or on the average of breaking down you should tell me,you should trust me about your feelings,whatever it is i will help you even if it is nothing and never say that your feelings are a problem to me beacuse they are not your feelings make you human a and love you for them.I know that you try to be strong hold them in check but you must understand that you can not keep them in dark for long and repressed them they will come and when they do this will happen and i do not want to see this happen to you,so pleas whenever you feel like this do not be afraid to tell me,i will help you in any way i can."

,,Thank you i am glad and i am sorry,from now on i will try my best to tell you my fellings,but now could you just hold me i could really use a good cuddle."

,,Of course anything for you my dear."

Some times your overthinking tendencies took better of you and to day was one of those days.

Working as a assistant to the undertaker was not a bad thing.I mean you were a nurse you know people die,but ever since your hospital put you on this part time job with him you just got hit with a realization of how people die every singel day.

Existential crises were not your style really and you try to avoid them as much as you can.

But it seems this one could not let you go.

So here you were in your bed in a spear room your boss made you just lying and looking at the celing questioning everything in your life.

As you were questioning your life away you did not heard a knock on your door and a tall dark figure approaching your bed and till you felt a heavy presence on the egde of you bed looking straight at you.

You set up next to him and he spoke.

,,Deary why are your eyes full of tears,are you crying for the life of the lost soul we just fixed,come now death is a natural thing it will come for you to you should laugh while you stil can,hihihihi."

Something about that just did sit rigth with you and you found your self slaping him,but his arm stoped you before it go to his cheek.

,,How can you say that does it not bother you that someday it will all just pass,how can you be so calm,there familys there loved ones,how can you say such things!"

,,I know that my dear,but still you have to realize that its just how it goes in life,pople die i know as a human its sad thinking about death,but if you worked as long as i have in this field of work you would get use to it.I am sorry if i have upset you but its just like that i know how you feel i also wish people would not die,but that is sipmle out of our power,you just have to come to terms with it."

,,I mean yes i get that,but stil."

,,Just know that death is a natural part of life,but remember that before you die do things that make you happy so that you never ever regret your life,okey?"

,,Yes,thank you for cheering me up i needed that,um i know its stupide but could you stay with me in bed for a while if its not too much of a problem?"

,,No of course not i will be happy to."

[ayyy-pee]

request!!! toji (not deadbeat dad au) processing the loss of his wife while having to take care of a child. He's dissociative and feels emotionally detached from his child cuz he reminds him too much of everything he has lost... PS. loveee your work and hope you have a lovely day!!

HELLO SWEET NONNIE!!!

I'm so incredibly late but I wrote up somethinggg. Omg I feel like Toji is just so...like I really feel like he struggled so much after that loss. I hope you like it and thank you for your sweet words!! Thank you for the request too MWAHHHHH

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It’s all too fresh.

The memories, the shock, the pain. It’s all way too fresh.

It’s been months since she’s been gone, and yet Toji can’t seem to move forward. He’s been stuck in what feels like some horrible time loop that refuses to let him go. Everyday begins the same. There’s this strange sense of familiarity when Toji opens his eyes in the morning. A familiarity in the brief silence of the early morning, because by the time he’s up, she’d already gotten everyone settled. A familiarity in the way the bed is made on her side, because she could never start her day without that one task being done. A familiarity in the smell that still lingers on her pillow, because Toji has not washed these sheets since that day.

Since the day he lost her.

And that’s where the familiarity ends.

Because the distant cries coming from down the hall wake Toji slowly, already a difference from what he’s used to. He’s used to her being up before him, so the cries were never heard. But now it’s Toji who needs to be up, taking care to ease the cries. And he wants to. Everyday he wakes up and he thinks “Today is the day that I’ll make a change”. He’ll be better, because he promised to be better. He promised her.

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

Her voice rings through Toji’s head, the intense sorrow crashing over him all over again, just as it does every morning when he wakes up, sporadically throughout the day, when he shuts his eyes every night. It’s paralyzing. There’s this foreign feeling in his chest – heavy, and it hurts. It’s a sensation Toji is not used to feeling. The sensation of tears. Toji cannot recall the last time he cried. Perhaps when he was a child, but he quickly learned that that was an unacceptable response. Or maybe it was when he lost her…no, he hasn’t cried in so long. He doesn’t know what that even feels like anymore. Is it the way his lip quivers, his nostrils burn or how his waterline begins to fill with tears?

These days, this sensation has been happening more and more.

He supposes the familiarity actually does continue in a way. Every night Toji promises to wake up and be a better person. And every morning, he wakes up and is reminded of what he’s lost, who he’s lost and he hides beneath his blankets to try and drown out the wailing that’s gradually growing in volume, waiting for him to do something…anything. How could he ever measure up to her? How could he ever provide the way she did? For him, for their son…

Without her, what’s the point? Toji’s life is shit, always has been. What could he give to Megumi that was worth anything?

He has nothing. Without her, he has nothing. She was the only reason it felt like this life he had built was possible. 

The screaming has become unbearable now. And Toji has no choice. As much as he wants to stay here, breathing in the scent of her and imagining her coming through their bedroom doors at any moment, he knows that it will never happen.

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

That’s what he should do. That’s what he will do.

And so he does. He tries. He lifts his son from his bed, wipes the moisture from his round and rosy tear stained cheeks. He changes his diaper, tries to give his son words of reassurance. He tries. Tries to say what he thinks she would say, because she always knew what words Megumi needed to hear to soothe him, to remedy any pain he was in. He tries.

But he fails. Toji’s words fall on deaf ears as Megumi continues to whine even as Toji has set him up to eat. Toji tries to feed him whatever mush he has in the fridge. He can’t be bothered to try harder than this. It’s already too hard for him. Too painful because when he looks at Megumi, he only sees her…sees his mother, his wife. And he’s in enough pain as is, knowing that she’ll never come back to him. That Toji will spend the rest of his life on earth with this little person who resembles all he ever loved and will never see again. How can he look at him without wanting to crawl in a hole?

Megumi looks exactly like her. The same sweet face, the same long lashes, the same messy hair. He is a carbon copy of his mother. And it fucks Toji up in ways he didn’t know were possible.

Spoon hovering in the air as Megumi refuses to eat, Toji finds his gaze glazed over, locked on to a random spot on the dining room wall. He lets his mind take him elsewhere. Back to just a few months ago, when everything was fine. When he knew that his life had a purpose. He can see himself, see his morning beginning just as he had become accustomed to. The smell of her shampoo still lingering on her pillow, the sound of her voice floating through the air as she sings sweetly to Megumi, and the smell of whatever she had cooked up for breakfast tickling at Toji’s nose.

Life was good then. Life meant something then.

And Toji is aware that this is not right. He shouldn’t feel this way. He has Megumi. Megumi should be his everything. That should be enough for him to keep pushing forward. His son needs him, needs him to do more than what he’s barely mustering up the will to do now. Needs him to pull himself together instead of wallowing in his own self pity and grief. But what can a man do when the love of their life has been taken so unexpectedly it makes them sick?

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

Her voice calls to him, pulling him from the depths of sorrow he’s drowning him. And it’s only then that Toji realizes he’s crying, that his cheeks are wet with fat tears. That for the first time in who knows how long, he’s letting himself feel enough to evoke such a strong emotion that he’s actually sitting here crying. And Megumi is quiet, finally. His deep blue eyes bore into Toji’s emerald ones and it hits Toji then. 

He can’t do this. He won’t be able to fake it until he makes it. That’s unfair to Megumi. He made a promise that he knows he can’t keep. It’s so obvious that he is not equipped to care for this child who quite frankly, makes him sick to his stomach to look at. Not that it’s Megumi’s fault that he looks like her. But it makes Toji’s stomach churn any time he has to face his own child.

There is no one in Toji’s life that he could depend on, call on when he’s at rock bottom besides her. Before he lost her, he would have avoided doing what he’s debating on doing at all cost. But he has to do it. So, before he can talk himself out of it, before he can stop himself from taking out his cell phone and dialing the number of the bastard he swore he’d never speak to again, Toji tells Megumi, “It’s for the best, kid”. Because while that man was a piece of shit to Toji, Megumi will mean something to him. He’ll be cared for in a manner that Toji can’t give him. 

Take care of Megumi for me, okay?

And he’s trying. But the best way for Toji to take care of Megumi is to not care for him at all.

She’d be disappointed, he thinks. But he also thinks she’d understand.

He lifts the phone to his ear, the man on the other end picking up without greeting. “Naobito…it’s me.”

[nadas-dirthalen]

A Veilguard Achievement Icon Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore... but Was I Right?

PART TWO: What Veilguard Did Narratively, and What That Tells Us Going Forward

[ 1 ]

Hello again, friends and travellers. Now that I've beaten Dragon Age: the Veilguard, I wanted to go through all those 30,000 words of predictions that I wrote in the ~11 days leading up to its release. I'd seen an achievement icon that pieced together a lot of Dragon Age lore for me.

But, I hadn't played Veilguard. All I had was the footage from September 19, the achievement list, and anything else BioWare had released.

So... was I right? And if so, how much was I right about?

This is your warning:This post will contain spoilers for the entirety of Dragon Age: the Veilguard, and all Dragon Age content made before Veilguard.

(my davrinmance is going great as i try and collect every codex, thanks for asking!)

Today's Discussion: to Understand Dragon Age, We Must Understand Its Writing.

Before I can go any further on why I think the way that I think, or why I imagine the story might take us in certain directions, it's essential that you all understand where I'm coming from. Veilguard, like any game, is a piece of art. Its bones are built with similar narrative structures to novels (though not identical, and that's important!). To make sense of what's to come, we must examine Veilguard's bones the same way.

I've seen a lot of people wondering why, for instance, the Inquisitor is not Veilguard's protagonist. I've seen people lamenting the fact that there were not on-screen clarifications of popular lore theories. Before this series goes any further, I need to say my piece about why I believe that it was essential that Veilguard was written as it was, and why its writing does in fact help us better predict Dragon Age's path forward moreso than even Inquisition.

That said, today I hope to cover:

What Veilguard Demanded of BioWare's Writing Team, and Why

The Protagonist: Why Rook's Perspective Matters

The 3 Act Structure: Our Lens

The Companions: Paths to Our Answers — and Future Games

What Veilguard Demanded of BioWare's Writing Team, and Why

Let's get this out of the way right away: it has been 10 years since Inquisition. And, like it or not, that means one gigantic thing for BioWare: if they wanted to have any hope of making more Dragon Age, they needed to bring in new players and resuscitate the interest of many old players who did not stay in the fandom the whole time. They didn't—and couldn't—write Veilguard specifically for you or I, people of Tumblr. If they did, it would've pleased us... and then cost them so much money that we'd never get any more Dragon Age.

That doesn't just mean modernizing the game's aesthetics, or providing a glossary in its Codex. It means they would have to balance all of the following (just at a glance):

Managing the learning curve in general. Not even I looked in the glossary as I played. Me, supreme enjoyer of all codices ever. It's just not something most players are ever going to do, as much as it the lore is such a fundamental part of the game in general. That means simplifying terms where possible — elven gods in place of Evanuris, for example — but also trimming down what would have to necessarily reference past games. Only a tiny fraction of the fanbase has played Inquisition in the last 3 years, nevermind this year.

Recontextualizing the lore. That does not mean rebooting it, it means situating all we have learned so far in a framework that fits all we have learned so far. Much of what we learned about the Evanuris seemed, for so long, to be totally separate for the things we knew about the blight and Blights. Veilguard needed to show us how those things relate, and to do so in a fresh context that would allow everyone to develop new understanding.

Pushing us one step past Inquisition's knowledge. Veilguard, after reframing the lore, had to leave us a path for new lore, and increased understanding. I think the devs put it really well when they say that their aim is to give us some answers, but leave us with even more questions. More on that later, and in future posts.

Updating Thedas' ethos. Let's face it. It has been 15 years since Origins came out. The things that were more typical of scifi/fantasy (SFF) then are just not the same now, and would not be perceived by 2024 players in the same way as by those who started Origins in 2009. The world has changed; our cultural understandings are broadening and need to continue broadening. BioWare is doing a good thing by incorporating things like nonbinary identities into Veilguard, and it is good that Veilguard is progressing the world of gaming in that way, especially considering its success. (This is also, I wager, why we choose an Archon out of two choices who want the same thing, rather than leaving that open to a more "evil" option).

Dislodge older fans from their Solas headcanons to get everyone old and new to the same confusion and potential distrust. Hear me out. Everyone who's stayed since Inquisition has beliefs about Solas. Even me, who got here in March of this year, whose fic reads overly soft now because I just didn't know Solas' grander plan until 48 hours before Veilguard came out. Everyone has had headcanons for so long that everyone has had time for their opinions of Solas to cement themselves. In order for Veilguard to work as a story, they had to debunk what everyone thought they knew: both lovers and haters of the famously controversial egg. By breaking down our existing beliefs, the devs open up essential curiosity from the players as to who—and what—Solas really is, which propels us through the narrative and has us absorbing information.

And this curiosity? It is why Veilguard could not have the Inquisitor as its protagonist. To keep us curious as players (and "readers" of the lore), BioWare needed a new protagonist.

Specifically, they needed Rook.

The Protagonist: Why Rook's Perspective Matters

Here's the thing. The protagonist is not just the face of the game. They are our vehicle to understanding that game. The plot follows their wants and responds to their understanding. What they don't know, what they want to know, is what makes up our every objective. Their emotional journey through the game is our emotional journey through the game. Following it, going after the things that matter to our protagonist, is how the entire game (including its lore) takes shape in our minds.

That's why it's essential that they don't know everything—especially after a ten year interim between games.

Veilguard's plot and twists proved that the Inquisitor did not know everything. They, in fact, knew less than half of everything. If we had kept them as the protagonist, all of our knowledge and curiosity would be shaped by the Inquisitor's understanding: a wrong understanding. We could constantly be fighting with what we think the Inquisitor should know, what should be true because we had seen it through the Inquisitor. We would be set up to be at odds with the very events of the game. Rook is a blank slate, barring a few key tonal indicators, and that blank slate allows for us to fit all previous lore into its new, recontextualized shape that I mentioned above. (Again, note that I am not saying rebooted.)

That, and Rook has multiple motivations. The Inquisitor is focused largely on stopping or saving Solas; Rook is charged with figuring everything out as it is happening to them in real time with almost no context or experience, AND stopping or saving Solas. The Inquisitor has existing allies and resources; Rook does not. Rook must build their own campaign from the ground up, and that means the player is building their own experience from the ground up. Their allies, abilities, and home base, yes, but also their knowledge. Discovering things at the same pace as Rook, with a similarly urgent drive to do so, keeps the game from infodumping at us. It keeps the reveals evenly spaced, but also immediately interesting to the player.

And best of all? Rook allows the writers to do what they want to Solas without breaking his dynamic with the endless sea of Inquisitors (or, at least, with way less risk of doing so). We needed to have our theories about him broken down and rebuilt as players; to do that to the Inquisitor would damage an entire sea of headcanons. We'd never get the Solavellan ending we wanted, for instance, if Solas had played mind games with Lavellan for that many months. And if Solas didn't do those things, if he'd been wholly defanged, he would have lost his appeal and importance in the narrative. He wouldn't be the Dread Wolf in the ways that matter to Veilguard.

It's important, then, that Rook has just the slightest bit of backstory. They care about their allies. They are not a potential political force like the Inquisitor. They have many options to be impulsive. Every single Rook has rebelled against authority. Every single one has a stubborn streak. BioWare put all those qualities there on purpose, because Solas uses every single one, in every single Rook, as a tool. That was all essential for his character development in this game! At the same time, they couldn't do that with the Inquisitor as protagonist, because after 10 years, no two Inquisitors are similar enough to predict/script their actions and responses in that way.

Those twists are perhaps the most important tool for forward momentum in the game. The more they keep us guessing, the more we'll play and seek new information, the more we'll learn. Which brings me to...

The 3 Act Structure: Our Lens

Like I said: BioWare couldn't just infodump at us in Veilguard. It wouldn't be interesting to even half the fans that stayed, these ten years. To keep us engaged as players, they had to string the lore through a series of engaging events. Keep the momentum up, so we would not be lazily looking over codices, but chasing new knowledge and understanding. It all had to be emotionally relevant and resonant to keep us caring, because very few people play games they don't care about.

Veilguard, like a lot of written art, follows the three act structure. Though there are a lot of variants on the more precise beats, they all broadly follow the same-ish path.

Hook: The opening image. In Disney movies, this is the song where the character sings about all the things they want in their journey, and what they truly need is only implied. It gives an opening note for the theme by showing what the character lacks, and what they might need to gain before defeating the final villain. In Veilguard, this is our prologue, centered entirely around Varric: the big red herring where we see that Rook is out of their depth, opting to push over a support beam rather than take on the Dread Wolf. Off-screen, it is also the background information about Rook, showing us who they are and what they want before we play.

Inciting Incident: The event that kicks off the main plot. In DA:tV, there's a big collection of these (because every companion needs one; we'll get to that). The first big one is, of course, the failed ritual. The death Rook doesn't see. The Evanuris are freed, but Rook has only half the information.

First Plot Point: "Plot Point" means "big/defining decision" in writer-speak. This is the moment the protagonist decides to go forth on their adventure. In video games, this is more or less determined for you, but you have the option to flavour this moment in Veilguard. You can choose how to tell Solas that you'll do what he wants: either by appeasing him or angering him. You do the same for Neve and Harding afterward, and then again in Arlathan and D'Meta's Crossing. You state that you're doing this, no matter what it takes.

First Pinch Point / "The Setback": "Pinch" means "twist" in writer-speak. It's the first time the narrative is shaken up, and is also usually the first time we see the true scope of the villain. In Veilguard, the first big twist has been called "the Setback" by some of the devs (notably, I heard it at a panel in September). For Veilguard, this is Weisshaupt. We see the true scope of Ghilan'nain's horrors, but we also see the first BIG hints (outside of Varric) that Solas is manipulating us—because he really doesn't seem to hate the Wardens as much as Inquisition enjoyers like myself expected. This event concludes act 1.

"New World" / "Fun and Games": The devs have remarked that they wanted to see the tone of their setback (Weisshaupt) threaded through the rest of the game, and we do: through Davrin and Lucanis' banter, through the reflections on the consequences of Weisshaupt, through every character struggling with their confidence and identity after that point, through the blight getting worse and worse and worse. That's what the New World is: the characters getting used to new circumstances after that first big twist. The Fun and Games are the slow and steady recovery from the twist, warming and solidifying formerly tenuous relationships. This is where we do a lot of companion and faction quests.

Midpoint: In a narrative that ends in a victory (so most games ever), the midpoint is a false victory. We think we've nailed something, only for something else to happen that begins to seed doubt in the protagonist's capability and/or ability to solve the plot. For Veilguard, this is the blighted dragon fight: we think we've got Ghilan'nain, but then Elgar'nan shows up and demonstrates that Rook is in so, so over their head.

Second Pinch Point: The second twist. The villain's identity is crystal-clear, and by now we've definitely interacted with the villain more directly. This is Arlathan, Elgar'nan's mind-trap—and Solas' "rescue" of Rook, showing his duplicity in full. Elgar'nan notably says a line about not falling for Fen'Harel's tricks again, and it foreshadows what we will see of Solas.

Disaster / Crisis: This is the event that triggers the protagonist's downward spiral. Not a twist (necessarily), but a catastrophe. In Veilguard's case, it's both: the Ghilan'nain fight leaves one companion dead-dead and another presumed dead. Then, the twist: Solas using Rook's sharply felt regret to pull his gambit and swap places with them. A series of events that literally had me gasping so frequently I got dizzy. Thanks, BioWare :) Many people say that this event, or something between this event and the "All is Lost" beat, conclude act 2. For games, the pacing is sometimes different, as is the cutoff mark, because otherwise the third act has the potential to be very short.

"All is Lost" / The Dark Night of the Soul: It's exactly as the name suggests: all has been lost. The protagonist doubts themself completely. It seems like nothing more can go wrong, and like nothing might ever go right again. The protagonist is at a loss for how to move forward. In Veilguard? Varric is dead. Davrin/Harding is dead. Bellara/Neve is dead. Rook is literally trapped not only in their regret, but in a reflection of Solas' regret. And to get out, they'll need...

"The Epiphany" / Second Plot Point: "Plot point" means "big/defining decision" in writer-speak, as stated above. Only this one contains more layers than the first. This is where the thematic statement of the piece comes out: the lesson that the protagonist must learn is stated, clearly, for all of us to see. It is the thing that picks them up off the ground, giving them strength to face the climax and the danger it promises. In Veilguard, this is Varric saying to Rook, "Have you learned nothing here?" and reminding both Rook and player that he chose this; Rook's companions chose this; we cannot blame ourselves for the actions of others. We cannot carry grief for other people, or we'll drown in it. Sound like any other character we know?

Climax: The big fight! But also, the big moment where the theme is shown to be the narrative key. In every ending of Veilguard, Rook being Solas' perfect mirror is the key to winning the day against the Dread Wolf. It just depends on what facet of Solas Rook chooses to mirror: the trickster, the nasty combatant, or the person who was haunted by their own failings and lost companions.

Resolution: Narrative threads are tied up, or a promise is made to tie up those loose ends in future installations. Veilguard's credits do both of those things. :)

Why am I telling you all of this? Because the lore must follow that skeleton. Every reveal we get must fit into both the timing and the feeling of those events. It would not fit to suddenly drop everything about the Titans right after Rook gets to the Lighthouse, which is why those enemies you need to kill to get the last memories are level 30-40. It would not fit to uncover everything about the blight's origin before Weisshaupt. If they forced us into that as players, all the casual fans and new players would duck out, feeling overwhelmed.

Even for us older fans, narrative structure shapes significance. You can tell a lot about a codex's overall importance and tone just by understanding where you find it, and when. That's why the Trespasser codices carry so much weight, even the ones about the Evanuris' actions that we don't see on screen at all: they are at the bitter end, and so they carry all the bitterness, longing, and mourning of that ending. Without the context of Trespasser, they mean less.

This is also why Veilguard paces its companion quests this way, not allowing you to complete them until later in the game. Every companion has something to teach us, and BioWare wanted to give each companion's narrative the weight it deserved.

The Companions: Paths to Our Answers — and Future Games

Anyone who's played Inquisition knows that companion quests shape entire facets of the lore in individual games, as well as set us up for the trajectory of the next games. Just look at Solas and Cole: together, they shaped our whole understanding of spirits in Veilguard. They set us up to ask all the right questions about not only spirits being bound as demons (Solas' quest), but about spirits being able to manifest in physical shape (Cole's quest). Together, their narrative conclusions foreshadowed much of the Evanuris' reveals in Veilguard: that they were spirits who could manifest into corporeal shape, and that they had the ability to ask others to manifest—and then bind them.

Again, these quests are paced throughout Inquisition's main plot. You cannot do their before Skyhold, and you cannot do them after the cutoff of (I believe) the Temple of Mythal. Inquisition forces you to see those quests' endings in the exact right spot: sometime around the midpoint (Adamant/WEWH), but before the disaster/dark night (the Temple of Mythal). They do that so you will feel that those things are significant.

Veilguard does the same thing. Every companion has a facet of the lore attached to it, but you cannot follow those threads to their conclusions at the beginning of the game. The game won't let you, because the moments need to be spaced out properly and carry the necessary emotional weight. Not all of their quests promise speculative material for future games in the same way, because some explain the context of the current game (Varric, in DAI, accomplished both with the red lyrium content, for instance; Leliana, meanwhile, dealt with the theme of faith in DAI and did not promise future speculation).

These concepts will all get far more attention in due time, but in short, here's what I think is associated with each companion:

Harding: Titans! But also, angry titans, and the difference between "angry titan" and "source of blight." In the same vein, what the dwarves should do going forward, and where they should place the titans in their culture.

Neve: The soul of Veilguard; her narrative is very current to DA:tV, in my early understanding. But she brings forth a lot of nuance to the themes of regret, and what that regret looks like on a smaller scale (a city, rather than a world). She does a lot of work in showing us that regret is regret, no matter the scale, and that the work we do to do better matters, no matter the scale. Additionally, her personal quest foreshadows Solas' use of blood magic against us being more than we thought by showing off Aelia's puppets, suggesting to us (tonally) that Rook may be Solas' puppet.

Bellara: The Forgotten Ones!! Anaris! Also, the place of ancient elvhenan in the future of Thedas, and what the elves should do/feel going forward.

Lucanis: I think they were going for some Forgotten One/Forbidden One hints, judging by some notes from the Ossuary and some banter between Lucanis and the others. This needs more dissection. Lucanis sort of does both what Bellara and Neve do: the Forgotten Ones, and also the heart of Veilguard's theme, with a lot of found family vibes thrown in.

Davrin: The blight itself, and the future of the blight without any archdemons left to cause capital-B Blights. Thedas' path to healing its nature.

Emmrich: The nature of what spirits are. I need to go screencap more specifics, but I swear this necromancer has referenced the difference between spirit and human soul and has stumbled upon saying that the two might not be so different at least once. Also, the Formless One centers around the Necropolis, and I'm thinking "spirits seeking bodies" and this whole idea of unlife/undeath is going to be explored later.

Taash: Remember how I said BioWare needed an ethos update? I think we see that most predominantly in Taash, whose entire personal quest is an examination of the values and priorities of different cultures, as well as the place of gender and gender ideology in Thedas. We saw this with Dorian and Krem in DA:I, but Taash modernizes that conversation (10 years has changed a lot!) and brings it front-and-center. At the same time, their existence is referencing (potentially) the Scaled Ones, and showing us that the kossith (Qunari) might have far more ties to Evanuris shenaniganry than we thought—and that those shenanigans did not happen on Thedas, but potentially far across the sea. (Neve and Lucanis accomplish this, also, with the Shadow Dragons and Crows, but not to the degree that Taash does).

This is why the companion quests MATTER, and (at least partially) why the game asks you to complete these quests or suffer consequences in the finale.

You know what else happens, upon completion of these companion quests?

You get codices. In Dragon Age, they are the threads that tie the seemingly disconnected pieces of the plot together, and that's on purpose. This time, they automatically unlock upon completing different stages of companion quests—and as far as I can tell right now, days after completing the game for the first time, the ones revealed later DO contain spicier hints about future lore than those revealed earlier.

And between ALL of these things—the demands Veilguard's timing placed on Bioware, the need for Rook as a protagonist, and the structure for every companion's quests—I think BioWare did an amazing, genius job with their narrative. Yes, I have seen some of the art book content, and yes, it would have been so cool to have those things, but... I truly do not think BioWare needed them, as close as I would have held cameos like Cole to my heart.

From a lore perspective? They knocked it out of the gods-damned park with Veilguard. They did an amazing job with each of their quests, and I promise: there is no shortage of juicy lore to be found in Veilguard. Now that I've inflicted an outline of what I know about stories upon you, I promise: all of this serves as context for everything I look forward to saying in future posts.

_____

If you got this far, thank you, as always!

This series is going to take a turn toward what I noticed in Veilguard, how I feel that Veilguard adds to my theories (or perhaps debunks some of them), and where I think the series is going to go from here. But in order to write all that properly and miss as little as possible (even though, in November 2024, with no wiki or transcripts, I am guaranteed to miss things), I need to keep playing the game and keep reading the codices I find.

Stay tuned for the next instalments, though I cannot say how quickly they will come after this. <3

[mokokone]

Hello!

I want to ask, would you do requests for yandere?

A/n: I honestly didn't know if you were requesting a Yandere!Medicine Seller fanfic or something else entirely. (May I remind you to please be a little more specific when asking me questions. It is important for me to understand exactly what you are looking for in order to give you content. Thanks♡). But I wrote a Yandere!Medicine Seller headcanons just in case.

Enjoy!

⚠Trigger Warning ⚠ dubious content, abusive relationship, implied non-con, yandere.

Yandere!Medicine Seller/Kusuriuri x Reader - Headcanons

He is so unpredictable that you must be careful around him. You never know when he will decide to pick on you for small things or mock you for being foolish.

If Kusuriuri didn't jokingly refer to you as his beloved mate, you wouldn't understand why he keeps you by his side.

He shows that he cares about you by being protective and possessive, displaying his affection in his own unique way. Despite his harsh exterior, there are moments when he lets his guard down, revealing a softer side that makes you question his true feelings towards you.

At times, it almost feels like a game to him, teasing you and testing your patience and loyalty. Kusuriuri's complex personality adds an element of mystery to your relationship, making each interaction with him both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

He'd always say that you hold a special place in his heart and would never let anything or anyone harm you. Once he finds out you're being threatened, mistreated, or cheated, he slays an entire village by striking up deals with malevolent Mononoke, letting them do as they please, and terrorizing innocent civilians in favor of not hunting and exercising them.

There were times he'd even pretend to be oblivious and lazy, refusing to lift a single finger to help those in need just to spite you.

You never asked him to do this, and it's obvious that it bothers you, but that doesn't prevent him. He wanted everyone to treat you with the same level of fear and respect that they would give him.

Kusuriuri's enigmatic nature keeps you on your toes, never quite sure what to expect next. The thrill of his unpredictable behavior makes every moment spent with him a blend of excitement and trepidation. At times, the intensity of his actions can be overwhelming and even frightening. Despite this, he reassures you of his unwavering loyalty and protection. If he senses any threat to you, he reacts swiftly and decisively, leaving a little trail of chaos in his wake.

He always looks at you with this sickening smirk after you witness this. He knows you don't like it—the sight of his true form, the begging for mercy, or the rare moments when people will turn to you and beg for forgiveness as if believing that you had control over him, instead of it being the other way around.

The way you shudder in disgust or turn your head, too scared, maybe even ashamed, pleases him greatly. He just might fuck you afterward or during, depending on his mood.

He'll leave not just one, but several bite marks along your neck, making sure that anyone who catches a glimpse of them will immediately recognize who you are claimed by. These marks are his way of marking his territory, showing the world that you are his and his alone.

Occasionally, he enjoys hurting you just as much as he enjoys keeping you safe. It's something he really enjoys doing! But don't misunderstand him; he does care about you in his own unique way. If he didn't care, you wouldn't be around.

Outside of his emotions, you don't have much value to him. It's tough to realize this when Kusuriuri uses you like a stress ball. Each time, you end up scratched and bruised from his rough handling. It feels like you're nothing more than a beloved toy to him, far from being his lover.

Funny how you're supposed to be his mate but are scared of his true form. Whenever you get a little bold, you might catch a glimpse of his other self in the mirror. He doesn't show his other self this often, but he just loves to tease you.

There's no point in you parading around your dignity and pride when he has the means to swipe it away in the blink of an eye.

How many times has he made you beg him for mercy now? What about the times he drugged you and pleasured your unconscious body? He'd lost count. Yet, you still remain by his side, trapped in a cycle of dependence and fear. It's a sick game he plays, and you're the helpless pawn in his twisted world. But amidst the darkness, there is a flicker of light.

 In his embrace, you find solace, love, and safety, a brief respite from the torment of his cruelty.

[openphrase123]

hey hi hi i've read everything of curtain call (except, obviously, what hasn't been posted yet) and i HAVE to ask you to share your lost country/skywatcher language thoughts so i can devour them immediately please.

hiiiiiiii so like 90% of the language worldbuilding i did for curtain call was like. very simple sentences and words since i didn't want to make an entire conlang for this fanfiction. what i have written in-fic would fall apart in two seconds if i tried to expand it to any of the lines outside of what i wrote. HOWEVER i have a lot of thoughts about how it WOULD work if it had the capacity to expand outward

putting under a readmore both for curtain call spoilers and because this is going to get long and insufferable for anyone except ME

also if you're not reading curtain call. this is still a fun little analysis about how siffrin's native language influences their behavior. you might have fun with it wheeeee just know that the actual language i'm talking about is not canon. i made it up.

disclaimer: i speak a couple of languages but my knowledge of languages is VERY limited to what i know. so you're going to see a lot of instances of me calling back to japanese or other english dialects. other languages exist and also have these features but i'm just not gonna say anything if i'm not sure of what i'm saying. if you are interested in these concepts in a more academic setting i am NOT the place to find that

second disclaimer: in curtain call, the name for qilaksut comes from greenlandic/kalaalisut which is an endangered indigenous language. this is an open invitation to go learn who, historically, lived in and supported the land you're living on. consider supporting them whatever way you can.

number ONE. dude is it that serious??

nah.

again, i built this for like ten sentences out of a 100k+ fic. so like. there's some inconsistencies, there's some weird stuff. and i know i could have just written all of the curtain call qilaksut in english but italicized, there would have been nothing wrong with that. but i did not because i thought it would be a good exercise in character exploration

because the language you speak has some measure of how you act and carry yourself in the world. (sorry elizabeth if you're reading this. i'm not going full noam chomsky i swear i don't believe in linguistic determinism i'm using this as a literary device) and since siffrin is the only speaker of the forgotten language we see (loop never engages with that in-game as much) and i was a little bit like. okay. why is he like that. how much of that is siffrin and how much of that is the home they don't know

in odile's friendquest she remarks that she only finds similarity in herself within vaugarde because vaugarde is so welcoming to travelers. however odile never went to vaugarde until she was an adult - siffrin presumably lived on the island until he was a teenager, and your personality is fairly Formed by then (at least enough for people to put iterations on it in adulthood) so as much as i could have gone the route of "siffrin it's okay that you don't see yourself in your past" i thought for the themes of this fic it made more sense to go "oh THAT'S why siffrin is Like That"

so as you're reading through this: yes i'm worldbuilding language. but MOSTLY as a siffrin character study. okay! okay.

number TWO. situational meanings.

so ✦‧₊ is "you" and ✧‧₊ is "me/i". but "hello" is ❇✧ which - hang on, isn't that the word for universe and me? no, actually, there's no pronoun suffix (‧₊ denotes when a person is being talked about) so in this context ✧ means "inside". which means ✦ means "outside" in some contexts.

(but harrie, why does "hello" mean "inside universe"?? well i imagine it's the difference between older medieval greetings and the modern "hi". languages morph and drift. this kind of just suggests that without me having to write an Entire Language Family Background. probably a shortening of some corny shit like "within the universe i find you" or whatever. semantic drift.)

and part of the reason i did that was for unicode constraints - there are only unicode characters that look like stars. but the other half is because in japanese and i THINK also in chinese each character has a few different meanings. take 本, in japanese. it has a lot of meanings on its own but let's look at it in situational context. 本棚 is bookshelf. 本物 means real. 本土 is mainland.

so in qilaksut i think these kinds of multi-use words are common. ERGO. why siffrin has trouble thinking of very situational words in vaugardian. if your native language is built up of tangential mnemonic connections, of course you're going to have trouble remembering the word kiln!!

number THREE. reduplication and repetition

take the phrase "✦‧₊ »»⟢" from ch10. in my head, » means "fast" and doubling it gives you "really fast". this happens in AAVE (e.g. "he's RICH rich") and japanese (there is an entire kanji expressly used as a repetition mark so that you don't have to draw complicated kanji twice, it's 々(noma) and as an example, person is 人 but people is 人々)

reduplication is slightly different from this but i think it shows up for words like »», where you're not literally saying the word twice but the vowels double themselves. kind of in a trilling way. i actually say this in inutile and not curtain call but i think the Siffrin Accent wavers a lot and feels like a twinkling star. because i think it's cute

alsooo repetition. wish craft. do u see the vision

number FOUR. pronouns and clusivity

i don't get into the he/she/they or any other third person pronouns in the fic because. well i think the lost country would go so hard on pronouns. there are child pronouns. adult pronouns. pronouns denoting somebody's job or status. hell loop is SO casual about offering to use the "royal we" i genuinely think pronoun usage in the lost country is more tied to interpersonal relationships than gender. but of course that plays a role too

because i think there's a huge amount of gender concoction you could brew in there. i think it would be really fun if siffrin uses he/they because in qilaksut siffrin is mainly referred to as the neutral pronoun mashed together with the masculine one. i think that would be fun.

and then for funsies. clusivity. i definitely think there is a difference between "we" (me+one other person, excluding you) and "we" (me+others+you) in qilaksut. would be fun if this is why siffrin automatically assumes they're getting excluded from things. "where is the vaugardian inclusive we and why has nobody said it to me???"

number FIVE. structure

i don't have a lot of Full Sentences in qilaksut in the fic but in general it follows the pattern place - > noun - > adjective - > verb. and you might be going "harrie, you weeb, that's japanese again" well. i didn't want it to be like french or english. and that's the one i know. so. shut up!!!!

"well why can't it be the same syntax as vaugardian then?" i'm glad you asked. i wanted it to feed again more into the idea that siffrin is more susceptible to getting "lost" in a conversation. hard to focus when your normal syntax anchors are not there!!

but at the same time. i write siffrin as a polyglot in curtain call. they're pretty equipped to learn and absorb new languages. once you learn a second language, in general, your third/fourth/fifth gets easier

number SIX. things i can't do in the fic except for once or twice because of unicode restrictions

well i could do it ONCE. with two sentences that are coming up in tomorrow's chapter: but i think in qilaksut writing, changing the rotation/orientation of the word also changes the meaning. slight spoilers for tomorrow's chapter but siffrin has two ways of saying "love you" for two different people - for odile, it's ❥✦‧₊ and for isabeau it's ❤✦‧₊

this isn't for any particular reason, i just think it's neat in the context of how i do names and titles for the rest of the fic. getting called different names based on your relationship to somebody, using altered terms of endearment for someone. two extra rotations of the heart could exist in theory so one of them is probably "loving your kid" and the other issss i dunno. maybe a closer platonic love nearer to a qpr or something. or what you use for your parents/guardians or your betters. i didn't think that far!!

also word opposites. ✷ doesn't have another version with just the lines, but that means "yes" and i think a hollowed out version of that would mean "no." obviously the ✦/✧ shift goes here too. and i think the inverse of ✪ (little) would mean big. but i couldn't find those in unicode so they do not exist in this fic oops

if you made it this far into the post. hi. thank you for reading :) that was probably a lot more than you were asking for. i won't apologize. anyway this post doesn't even TOUCH how i do name stuff in the fic but that also feeds into this. (and the name stuff was something i took out of an old dnd campaign anyway) (of which i have a DIFFERENT altered version for my original fiction but shhhh)

[thelosers-club]

HELLO so I heard people talkimg about Stan having OCD and I just really really needed to clear up misconceptions about OCD and Stans character so if you like stan uris or mental health studies at all this might be fun to read for you

none of this is like drama relatef at all it was just a fun little thing i wanted to do so i could learn about mental health and my favorite characters at the same time

sorry if none of this makes sense i wrote it all in one go at 2am (feel free to add any info you want or clear up anything i might've explained poorly)

This started because I was sick anf tired of people saying stan has ocd because that just doesnt make sense towards any canon material (If you want to headcanon him as it, that’s fine, but please read through this so you can do it more accurately) and it seemed to be just a dramatic stereotyping of what OCD is.

After doing research, reading the literal DSM’s sections on OCD, I’ve come to the conclusion that: I was right, Stan very very much does NOT have OCD.

People said he has it because in IT 2017, he makes sure to clean the windows properly, and in the book he has germaphobia. That’s about it. I looked at other things I tried to find as evidence for him having OCD, but I couldn’t find anything else that fit. And this is not a case of opinion because I like to be as absolutely objective as possible in these types of things and see no point in anything otherwise

So anyway, I’ll try to put this all simply because if I get too complicated I’m gonna get lost and this will turn into a rant on literally anything because currently I’m unmedicated for my adhd

Why does Stan not have OCD? To put it simply, he does not fit any of the criteria. I do think he has germaphobia, but I believe that to be part of his autism (as it’s very, very common in autism) and/or anxiety.

To delve into that a liittle bit more, the OCD criteria is this:

A. obsessions or compulsions, such as recurrent and persistent thoughts, impulses, images, that are, at some point, intrusive and inappropriate and cause distress. the thoughts, impulses, or images are not simply excessive worries about real life problems. the person attempts to ignore/suppress such thoughts as to neutralize them with some other thought or action.

Thinking back on the book, which is what I like to adhere to as much as possible, Stan does not have these thoughts recurrently enough that it is affecting his life. I can see that he has a fear of dirt and ick which sometimes spikes when he’s stressed, but otherwise he is able to go through his day to day life easily enough with these thoughts.

Other diagnostic criteria to fill up the cracks in this is that the obsessions or compulsions must be time consuming (taking up more than 1 hour a day) or significantly interfere with the person’s normal routine and functioning, or social activities or relationships. Stan is not shown doing things like this repeatedly and, in my mind when I try to follow stephen king’s writing and ideas as much as I possibly can, I do not think he would if the book were longer either.

But, I very much think these traits are there; And they fit perfectly into autism traits. I think right now is a good time to note that autism gets mixed up as OCD quite a bit because they have overlapping traits.

Now to defend my case for why he might have Autism;

He acts to put it quite simply, insanely fucking autistic. Alllll the fucking time. That man is incredibly autistic there is no denying this

His whole character is set on the fact that he is a very black and white person, very very rigid, and you can’t deny it because he literally killed himself over finding out he was wrong about the guidelines and rules he made up for the world. he is so autistic

A common trait of autism is having an abnormal way of speaking, like a weird rhythm, and Stan’s tone WAS described as pleasant but it was also described as abnormal and such..

Look at how much he likes birds. it feels a little obvious to me here lol

the meltdowns he’s had because, again, his routine and rules were interrupted

He was insanely good at math/accounting which I think also has to do with the need for rules he has, math is ruled and never changes 4+4 will always be 8 yada yada

Also stan just in my headcanon world has very very limited romantic and platonic feelings and I think thats common in autistic folks because we’re so different from other people

anyways im tired and i think you all get it by now if youve watched any of the movies or read the book Stan acts quite autistic. i swear im not self projecting pleas

[elfy-elf-imagines]

�� Out of the Woods | Maedhros *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Angst

▹ Words: ~8k

▹ Summary: Thrust into the world of Arda, you find yourself enraptured by the elven lord Maedhros. Yet nothing is ever easy in times of war as your love story unfolds and then unravels.

▹ Notes: Hi, hello, this is about 6k words longer than I intended. Oh well. This is a rewrite of a oneshot I wrote yearsssss ago, but thought it deserved a rewrite. I hope you guys like this because I deleted the original. You have no choice, YOU WILL LIKE THIS MORE. Please tell me you like it, I crave validation. Jk, jk...unless.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Golden. 

Glittering and gleaming. 

Opulent in an understated way and all too beautiful to be real. 

It was the only way to describe the lavish keep the armored guards escorted you into. Men with delicately pointed ears and unnatural beauty were both your protectors and jailers as they paraded you through the city. You weren’t familiar with your surroundings, never even heard of it. You feel as though a place as beautiful as this would be pasted on every tourist’s brochure and dream board. And yet there was nothing familiar.

Even the people seemed so different from you.

“You have brought a mortal woman before me; why is that?” his voice boomed as he sat straight back and stiff as a board on a lavish throne. You were speaking with the presiding ruler if the golden crown atop his head was anything to go by. He was tall and regal, only made taller by the raised platform his throne was built upon, his figure looming over you with an intimidating presence. 

His hair was like fire, falling in perfect waves that reached the middle of his back. His skin was porcelain and perfection, clear of any slight imperfections or marks that marred your own. He wore formal attire made from silk, with details of glittering gems that made him look like a sun. The heavy crown resting up his head was made of pure gold and dotted with jewels, each worth more than you’d ever make in a lifetime. But what captured your eyes were his own. Light green, they shone like the reflection of emerald leaves off a crystal clear lake. No poem or ballad could ever capture the beauty he possessed. 

He was ethereal, the poster child for what a king should be. 

One of the guards pushed you forward, and you nearly stumbled to the ground, but you’d caught yourself in time. You looked up at him, not even knowing his name yet and already being enraptured by him. A god, that’s what he has to be. There’s no other way he could look like that.

You must’ve died and now stand at the gates of heaven. In your current situation, the most illogical answer has become the only one that made any sense.

“T-they found me, your grace, in the...woods.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and your face flushed hotly as red stained your face. Did you address him adequately? Was there any correct way to address a literal angel? 

His gaze on you was sharp, making you shrink within yourself. His hair may have been made of fire, but he was entirely crafted from ice. Cold, biting, and bitter, you were surprised your skin wasn’t frostbitten. 

“She was rambling like a mad woman when we found her. Despite that, she seems harmless. We thought it best to present her for your judgment, your grace.” The guard spoke with a smooth and even tone, able to look at the elven man unflinchingly. Does one become accustomed to staring at the sun? They must if the guards can directly look at him.

“And so you deign to bring the mad woman before your lord?”

“Times are strange. She may be a gift from the Valar.”

A hush fell over the onlookers before a flurry of whispers filled the courtroom. The lord returned his attention to you, raising a single, inquisitive brow. He was assessing you, determining if there could be any truth to the guard’s words. It made you squirm under the weight of his eyes. They were too piercing and too invasive. He could see past your soul. Your deepest fears and thoughts were laid before him.

“Perhaps there is some merit to the words my guard speaks,” There was a lilt of amusement in his otherwise smooth, dulce voice. It nearly seemed mocking, the way he looked down on you. He leaned to the left side of his chair with his knuckles tucked under his sharp jaw, momentarily taking a more relaxed posture. Yet his gaze on you didn’t lighten; if anything, it became heavier.

“Have you been sent to us by the Gods?”

The throne room became quiet once more. 

Your heart hammered against your chest, a lump stuck in your throat. All eyes were on you, the undivided attention making you want to curl in on yourself. 

“I don’t know.” You mustered up the strength to speak, attempting to keep the fear drowning you out of your voice. Would he cast you out of the kingdom, leaving you to fend for yourself? You couldn’t survive in the woods alone, but you didn’t want to lie and be heralded as a sign of divine intervention. 

You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, the room’s walls closing in on you.

All there was to be done was hope he was as kind as fair.

He hummed in response, neither angry nor pleased. There was no grand statement or judgment, instead, he continued to inspect every detail of you. His eyes scanned you up and down in an almost clinical manner like you were a new art exhibit in his favorite museum. He took notice of your odd clothes, maintained teeth, and healthy hair. Strange for a human in these lands to be so… well groomed. Even with the mud that caked your body, you were cleaner than the other humans before you.

“You place me in a strange place. If I send you away, it may anger the Gods, yet if I allow you to stay, I may be dooming the very people who’ve put their belief in me.” He spoke in such a calm tone as if the fate of your life didn’t rest in his long fingers, each embellished with a ring. 

The anxiety made your body weigh a thousand pounds. You weren’t even sure your heart was beating, the impulse to check your pulse growing stronger. There was worry in your eyes, creases above your brows that were pulled together tightly. 

Yet you didn’t speak, unable to make your tongue form words. 

“Will you not plead your cause to me?” He leaned forward; both brows pulled upward, an almost challenging smirk pulling on his lips. 

Rendered speechless and playing the fool, you opened and closed your mouth as you tried to remember how to speak. 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning back into his seat, his smirk pulling back into a nearly disappointed frown. 

“Very well. I shall make the decision for you.” 

You prepared to be condemned to the wilds, thrown to the wolves who would surely tear you apart. Head lowered, eyes counting the reflections of sunlight inside the room. Tears threatened to fall, but you forced them away. You would face your imminent death with pride.

“You will stay here.

Gasps of surprise filled the room, followed by mutters of the courtesans. You made no such noise, head snapping up to meet the elven lord’s gaze. There was surprise evident in your wide-eyed gaze. You’d expected the worst, yet that was not what you’d been given. 

“In time, we will learn if the Gods truly sent you to us.”

He nodded at the guards around you, and they helped you stand. Shaking and nervous, the guards held your body up as they guided you from the throne room to what would become your quarters. But over your shoulder, you spared one last glance at the elven lord, his green eyes watching your form disappear. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar--” You stumbled over the elvish text, unable to translate the rest of the sentence. There was a crease above your furrowed brows and a slight frown on your face. 

It had only been two months since you were unceremoniously dropped here, yet it felt as if no time had passed, but not in a good way. You were like a newborn babe, stumbling in the dark as you attempted to gain your bearings. The faint throb in your head warned you of a headache, encouraging you to put the book down. A warning you didn't heed, you were stubborn, determined to prove you could assimilate. 

The court has been a dizzying experience to get accustomed to. Most courtesans treated you like a curiosity, a pretty bird for them to teach silly words and feed salted crackers. They were nice enough and greeted you with pleasant smiles, but it all felt patronizing. As if you were nothing but a simpleton child, but perhaps that’s just how they viewed you; elves were immortal, after all. Nevertheless, they have treated you kinder than expected, correcting your choppy Quenya with lyrical giggles and coy smiles. 

The giant oak doors swung open, startling you. Looking up, you watched as Maedhros swept through the library. He grabbed a few books from the shelves and went to a table opposite the room. His hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and his clothes were more casual than what he would don at court. Your eyes followed his form, only looking down when he briefly looked up from his book. 

Heat flared to your cheeks, eyes returning to the book before you. You haven’t spoken with him since your initial meeting. He’d never invited conversation, and you were too terrified to do so. Instead, you stole glances at him whenever the moment presented itself, content to daydream about the Maedhros turning his eyes to you. 

He’d say hello, inquiring about your stay in Himring. You’d answer him shyly, looking up at him through your lashes. So enchanted by your beauty and quiet whit as the conversation continued, he’d invite you to take a stroll with him around the gardens and then--

Your daydreams were cut short by the loud thump of a book falling. Turning, you watched as one of the library attendants scurried towards the fallen three or so books. A soft sigh left your mouth, and your attention returned to the book you were struggling through.

Picking up where you left off, you struggled through the same sentence. No matter how many times you re-read it, the translation wasn’t clicking. What did tenn’ mean again? A grunt escaped your mouth, the pulsing headache returning. You shut the book, perhaps harder than necessary, and opted to fiddle with the bracelets you wore. 

Was it even worth struggling through this silly language? Surely you’d return home sooner or later and this grand delusion would be broken.

Yet the longer you’d spent here, the less likely the prospect seemed. You poured over every map and searched every geographical book, and nothing seemed familiar to the home you’d known. 

Lost in your mind, you didn’t hear the scratch of a chair being pushed back nor the light padding of footsteps approaching your table. Only when you felt someone’s presence beside you and red hair loosely hanging did you look up? Maedhros had stood beside you, leaned over to be at eye level with you. His expression was perfectly neutral, not portraying a single thought in his head. Tucked behind his back was his left hand, which he’d lost many years ago. There were whispers in court about how it happened, being hung from a cliff for thirty years. How terrible that must’ve been.

“You seem frustrated.” His common was not as smooth as his elvish, yet speaking a common language with someone was nice. Most of the elves here only spoke their native tongue. 

“It’s nothing, your grace,” you looked away from his gaze that was entirely too invasive. You didn’t want to risk that he really could read your thoughts; you didn’t want him to see how often they lingered on him. 

“Your lie would be convincing if you hadn’t spent the past hour stuck on the same page,” he breezily replied, pulling up a chair to sit beside you. 

Has an hour already passed? 

And how did he know you hadn’t flipped pages? Had he paid that much attention…? 

“Some words are confusing in their translations; no need to be concerned.” You didn’t want him to burden himself with such a silly thing. This wasn’t something a lord needed to concern himself with. There was also a flush of embarrassment creeping up on you. You wanted him to see you as competent and intelligent, not fumbling over simple translations.

“Allow me to offer insight. It is my native tongue, after all.” 

You stared at him for a moment, lips pursed. His expression never wavered, and you couldn’t think of any reason to dissuade him from helping you. Apprehensive, you grabbed the book you’d previously pushed away. There was a light shake in your body from nerves, and you prayed to whatever god there was that Maedhros wouldn’t notice. 

Flipping through the page, more delicate with it than usual to avoid Maedhros thinking you disrespectful, you pause on the last page you’d read. You point at the sentence you were struggling with and push the book toward Maedhros. 

He leaned forward to read the sentence, and you took the opportunity to appreciate his side profile. His facial structure was sharp, with a tall, noble nose and a strong jawline. Pristine and void of imperfections, he was even more beautiful this close up. With each breath taken, the warm, heady cologne was enough to send you into a dizzy spell. It wasn’t fair for one person to be so…perfect. 

He whispered the sentence under his breath, then straightened his posture. As he did, you moved your eyes from his face, looking at the book as if that was where your eyes always were. His eyes met yours as he began to speak. 

“Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta.”

You mimicked his pronunciation, awkwardly fumbling over the words as you did. The faint whisper of a smile appeared on his lips. However, as soon as it was there, it was gone. 

“Do you know what it means?”

“No, I was having trouble translating.” 

This time he allowed his lips to turn upward into a faint smile, eyes glimmering in the dim lighting of the room. 

“It’s no wonder. This is in Sindarin. My understanding is you’ve been learning Quenya.” He reached over and grabbed the book, pulling it closer to him. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Quenya is an older dialect, though many of the Noldar still use it, whereas Sindarin is a newer version of the Eldar language.”

You didn’t respond, simply nodding your head as you fiddled with the fabric of your dress. Maedhros closed the book much more gently than you initially did, though he made no move to stand.

“I apologize; I have yet to inquire about your stay here. Have you found the accommodations to your liking?” 

His question was nearly word for word what you fantasized he would say to you. Was he teasing you? Could he truly read your every thought, or was it just a coincidence?

“They’ve been great, better than I could’ve hoped.” You were nervous, so nervous it wasn’t even a joke anymore. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“And how do you find yourself settling in?” He seemed so relaxed and at ease; why can’t you be more like that. 

“I’m getting accustomed, but it’s all so different from the home I knew. I will admit, it is refreshing to speak with someone in a language I am familiar with.” 

Maedhros pauses, slightly tilting his head to the side, something flashing across his face.

“Forgive me; I did not think about how few people share a common language with you.” 

You shook your head once again afraid of accidentally offending him. “It’s no issue; if anything, it forces my Quenyan to improve.” You wanted to be reassuring, to show that you were more than comfortable with your current circumstances. The last thing you needed was the king thinking you were being difficult or ungrateful. 

“But it must be frustrating not being able to convey your thoughts clearly.”

You merely shrugged in response. It was, and sometimes it made you want to scream and break something, but you couldn’t admit that. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful. 

Maedhros hummed in response and pushed his chair back, now standing at full height. 

“I must part from you, but perhaps we could meet here again tomorrow, if only so I may offer my translating abilities.”

A tentative smile appeared on your face, and you nodded in agreement. Maedhros tilted his head in a slight nod and turned, exiting the room with a flourish. 

Only once you were left alone did you let a high and girlish giggle leave your mouth. It echoed in the quiet library, and unbeknownst to you, Maedhros heard it on the other side of the door. 

And so a new tradition began as you and Maedhros met in the library every evening. You’d spend hours with one another, and within the first week, the excuse of studying linguistics had been forgotten. Enraptured in the presence of one another, you were both entirely unaware of the impending war.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

 You were waiting by the gardens. 

Wearing a new dress, fiddling with the bracelets that adorned your wrists. You were so nervous yet equally excited. Maedhros had broken tradition, and instead of meeting you in the library, he asked to meet you near the gardens. 

Your heart was in your throat; nervous goosebumps were all over your skin. It was truly as if all of your fantasies had come to life. Light footsteps echoed on the marbled flooring, and it made you turn. Maedhros, your intended partner, walked towards you, taking long strides. 

A smile was placed on your lips, and Maedhros matched it. Long ago had he shed the detached demeanor he so often presented to the rest of the world. Instead, he was open with his emotions - both good and bad - allowing himself to be vulnerable with you in a way so few people have witnessed. 

“You came,” he spoke as he closed the distance separating the two of you.

“How could I refuse?” Your smile widened, eyes in the shape of crescent moons. He laughed, low and smooth, offering his arm to you. Your hand wrapped around the crook of his arm, and it fits as if your hand was met for his. 

“Shall we?”

You motioned with your hand towards the gardens. “We shall.”  

The two of you walked in near perfect sync, wandering through the gardens, making quiet conversation with explosive banter. He was not as stern and rigid as he once appeared. With the moonlight reflected in his eyes and the stars making him shine, he seemed more like an innocent child than a hardened warrior burdened with war and trauma. 

You wanted to see this side of him every moment of every day. To see his eyes resemble glass and to hear his hearty chuckle as he threw his head back. Eventually, you gave up the guise of being interested in the flowers, even though they were quite beautiful. All your attention was focused on Maedhros, a sight you were determined to imprint in your brain. 

If you were to wake up tomorrow, back in your old bed, in your old apartment, you’d be happy to remember this moment and this moment only. You’d dedicate the rest of your life to writing poems about him, painting portraits, and writing overly embellished love stories. Anything to commemorate Maedhros and everything you’d wanted with him. Even if he didn’t return your affections quite as fiercely. 

“Tell me about your home. You never speak of it.” 

Your expression fell, your smile dimmed, and your eyes downturned. Home. You hadn’t really thought of it as much. It used to be a constant thought, a thing you wished on every falling star to return to. But now… You couldn’t remember the last time you made that wish. 

“It’s…different.” You fumbled over your words. How do you explain something you yourself hardly understand?

“In what way?” Maedhros pries, wanting to know more information. You’d be flattered in any circumstance or with any different topic. Yet the subject of home was complicated and one you hadn’t dared to broach with anyone.

“In every way.” A breezy laugh escaped your mouth, hoping to distract how tense you suddenly became. 

“I’d like to hear it all if you’d be willing to tell me.” 

“I--” You stuttered over the words, a lump caught in your throat. You wanted to tell Maedhros to bear your entire soul to him, but an inkling of fear gave you pause. Would he deem you a mad woman? Distancing himself and becoming as aloof as he once was.

Yet the two of you had grown so close as of late, and if you’d ever hoped to be more than friends, it would only be fair, to be honest.

“I don’t think I’m from this time.” You began, unsure of the best way to start.

Maedhros stopped, turning to face you. You nearly stumble but manage to catch yourself, meeting Maedhros’ gaze. 

“In what way?” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pressing your hand into a fist. Fortune favors the bold. You have to be bold if you want this.

“I believe when I was dropped here, I was dropped in the past. My world is so different and so much more advanced in terms of technology.”

He gave you a hard stare, not speaking for a few minutes. The moments of silence dragged on, and you were half tempted to flee and never return. Yet your body had become so heavy, and your feet were bolted to the ground. There would be no escape. 

“I don’t know why, but I believe you.” He spoke slowly, as if unsure of his own words as he said them. “At the very least, I believe you believe in what you say, and you have given me no reason to distrust you.”

Your breath that had been caught in your throat was suddenly released as your body slackened. The wide grin you previously wore returned to your face, all the worry lines and creases on your face melting away. 

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” You were breathless, a weight you hadn’t even realized was weighing you down, relieved from your chest. 

“I can only imagine how you must’ve felt, how confused you were.” His tone was soft and took a somber note, his eyes closer to an emerald green than the light color they previously were. 

“I managed to get by.”

Maedhros nodded, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips. 

“Well, please indulge me then, and tell me all the wonders of your home. I’m sure you’ve longed to do as such; you assimilated so quickly, I never would’ve thought you were from a completely different time.” 

You stared at him a moment longer, a breath caught in your throat. Yet this time, it wasn’t from nerves or anxiety; no, the pounding in your chest was for an entirely different reason. It had everything to do with the softness in Maedhros’ eyes as he looked at you. 

And so you indulged his every question and whim, the two of you wrapping around the garden a million times, talking until the moon was at the highest point in the sky, and all was silent. 

You were exhausted, holding back yawns every other sentence, but you pushed through, soaking in the time with Maedhros. Who knew when you’d get another chance? But eventually, he caught on, noticing the droop of your eyes and the lethargic pace you walked with. 

He guided you back to your chambers with all the chivalry gone from your world. You expected him to say farewell and give a single nod, as he always did when parting ways. He did bid you farewell, his smile warm and vibrant, and he did dip his head into a nod. 

But he also placed a kiss on the very edge of your lips before turning and disappearing down the hall. 

Frozen, you stood there for who knew how long, face awestruck and hand resting where his lips previously had been. 

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Time had seemed nothing more than an illusion. 

It seemed to move around you, yet you were the same, unchanged by it. Physically, you may appear the same, yet everything is so entirely…different. Maedhros made quick work of letting you know he intended to court you, and who would you be to deny it. 

All the formalities and technicalities that came with courting royalty was dizzying, but Maedhros was always there to center you. Strolls through the gardens and long evenings in the libraries; it made everything more bearable. It was also worth the stiffness that came with court to see the child-like grin that would light up Maedhros’ face when it was just the two of you. 

But doubt was a terrible thing. 

You constantly feared you wouldn’t live up to not only his expectations, but the expectations of his people. You were a human among elves, and despite not aging, you knew the court talked. Their fascination with you long died out, and anyone who believed you were sent by the Gods was the minority. They hid sharp words behind pretty smiles and musical laughter, but you could see through the fakeness all the same. Their cruel words only helped reinforce the doubts you already had.

And you weren’t the only one weighed down by it.

Maedhros was a far cry from what he used to be. Before the oath, before the torment, and before all the death at the hands of his kin. Could he really be so selfish as to tie you down to him? You were blind to this of course. You knew he suffered from PTSD and trauma, but even as you held him under the light of the moon, you were never aware of just how deep his fears went. 

How when he wept in your arms, it wasn’t only for what he suffered, but what he may suffer when you decide you want better. When you finally realized he wasn’t enough for you. 

His anxiety twisted into something harsh, manifesting as anger rather than sadness. Yet even as he lashed out, you stayed. Your face would remain perfectly passive, seemingly unbothered by it. 

It was another one of those nights.

You both sat on the balcony attached to his chambers, feet dangling over the edge. It was improper for you to be in his bed chambers, especially so late at night, but you couldn��t care about court etiquette at a moment like this. 

Your arms were wrapped around Maedhros, keeping him as close to you as physically possible. His head rested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut as his breathing matched the rhythm of your heart. All was quiet except the occasional sniffle from Maedhros. But after a few moments he was the one to break it. 

He pulled himself away from you, not an inch of his body touching yours. His relaxed posture suddenly seemed so tense and proper; an austere expression falling over his face. The sudden change was enough to give you whiplash, all the worst of your insecurities coming to head.

A moment passed before Maedhros stood, returning to his chambers. Tentatively, you stood, following after him. What made him suddenly change, as if a light had been switched?

He walked across the room, to the decanter holding a red wine. Maedhros took his time pouring it into a crystal glass before bringing it to his lips and nearly downing it all in one drink. He sent it down and refilled the glass, continuing the same pattern. 

The entire time he refused to meet your gaze. Awkwardly you say at the end of his bed, intertwining your fingers in an attempt to distract yourself. It hadn’t worked, all your fears growing the longer Maedhros held the silence. Was it a contest? Was he waiting for you to poke and prod?

“We should dissolve our courtship.” 

If you hadn’t already been sitting, you could’ve fallen to your knees. One simple sentence, that was all it took to make the past years come crumbling to nothing. 

“What?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Why?”

Another glass of wine drank and another glass filled before he dared to answer.

“While I have enjoyed your company, I do not believe us suited to continue any further,” he said. Even still, he refused to meet your eyes. His hand gripped the table he stood before, his grip so tight you were half surprised it didn’t crack under the weight of it. 

“So that’s it.” Your voice was like stone; hard, cold, and unwavering. “You decide to end our courtship, yet you can’t even look me in the eye as you do it.” 

Maedhros didn’t move from his position, you however, stood from the bed. 

All the anger and frustration, needling insecurities and self doubt came bubbling to the surface. You didn’t bother to push it down, or rationalize it so much you can’t even feel anymore. It came together in one chaotic concoction and exploded. 

“Look at me.” You weren’t shouting, but there was force behind your tone. A warning and a threat all in one. Yet Maedhros still kept his back to you. You took three more steps towards him, nearly behind him. 

“I said look at me.” The volume of your voice became louder, the stone facade breaking and cracks of desperation shone through you. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this, you’d thought he loved you the same way you loved him.

Had it all been a mistake, were there signs and clues you’d missed along the way?

Finally Maedhros turned to face you, and within moments all of your anger dissipated. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unshed ones exaggerating his red rimmed eyes. He looked absolutely broken, the worst you’d ever seen him. 

“Why are you doing this?” You dropped the facade of nonchalance. Tears began to well in your eyes, a slight waver in your voice as you spoke.

Still he didn’t speak. 

You closed the distance separating the two of you, grabbing his hand in yours, but he pushed you away. Still you attempted to grab it again and this time he didn’t bother rejecting your touch. 

“Mae please, what is the real reason for this?” You looked up at him like a doe, so wide-eyed and teary. Any shred of conviction he previously held onto crumbled as he looked at your face. 

He thought marrying you would be selfish, but perhaps this was the more selfish option?

“You deserve better. I can’t give you what you deserve.” 

A crease formed on your forehead as your brows furrowed. 

“Fuck it.” 

Maedhros blinked, stunned by your brash words. For a moment he thought he might’ve misheard, he’d never heard you speak like that. But it would appear he hadn’t misheard you.

“What?”

“I said, fuck it. I love you, and you love me, and god dammit, if you’re not best for me then I don’t want better.”

You moved one of your hands from his, cupping his chin, forcing Maedhros to meet your gaze, an attempt to show the sincerity in every word spoken.

“I love you, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Your words hung in the room, imprinted on the floorboards and the walls.

The Maedhros’ lips were on yours. The kiss was quick and fervent, expressing everything he’d never be able to put into words. All the love and fear that clung to him like a shadow; his entire soul was laid before you. It was dizzying - you were drowning at sea, and Maedhros was your only lifeboat. 

You clung to his form, never able to get close enough, one of your hands wrapped around his lithe form while the other reached towards the nape of his neck, gently tugging on his hair. He groaned against your lips and you swallowed the noise, deepening the kiss. 

Closer, closer, you needed to be closer. 

He pulled you just as tight as you were pulling him, just as desperate if not more so than you were. His one arm wrapped around your waist and held you against his body. His scent was intoxicating, that same heady cologne he’d been wearing when you first spoke in the library. Your teeth clacked against his, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You needed him to know that every word you’d said, you’d meant. 

There wasn’t a universe you wanted to exist in without him. 

And while that thought terrified you, you repressed it, opting to deal with it later. 

Maedhros needed to know you were all in, and you’d spent the rest of eternity convincing him if need be. 

At some point he pulled back, the rise of fall of both of your chest and heavy breathing the only sound in the room. 

His hand moved from your waist and into your hair, finger combing through it. There were stars in his eyes that you surely replicated. 

“Forgive me, I was being foolish. I don’t want our courtship to end, you’re the woman I want to marry. I never want to leave your side and I promise to never send you away, I swear it.” 

A smile, small and delicate, lit up your features as you frantically nodded in response. Maedhros huffed out a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, muttering elvish endearments against your skin. 

You closed your eyes, basking in his presence and the musical sound of his voice. 

Oh to freeze this moment and live in it forever. 

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 Everything was silent and calm, but not in a way that would be soothing and leave behind a sense of weightlessness. Instead, it was harsh and grating, mile-high walls building up around you as you subconsciously prepared for...something. Anything that would cause a ripple and disturb this illusion that encased you. 

You couldn’t deny it anymore and continue to make excuses for what was so clearly right in front of you. War had brought devastation, and with that came change, and with change came the end of a life you’d built. For so long, Maedhros was able to ignore the Oath he and his brothers had sworn. The Silmarils were forgotten but only for a time. Word had reached Ossiriand that the son of Beren and Luthien had inherited the Silmaril his parents had recovered. 

Maedhros, once noble and as bright as the sun, now appeared worn and haggard, his eyes bearing the weight of a consuming madness. Restlessness gnawed at his soul as his insatiable quest for the Silmarils tightened its grip on his heart. 

It was only a matter of time before the bubble burst, and you could no longer delude yourself into thinking he was still the same man you fell in love with. 

“Maedhros,” you said quietly in hopes of not sparking another argument. “Are you certain this is the wise decision?” 

He turned to you, his eyes stern and calculating. It was a stark difference from the love and warmth they used to be lit by. Instead of looking into the sun, you were staring into a fiery furnace.

“It is my duty, as well as my brothers, to honor the Oath we swore to our father. I have no doubt this is the right course of action.” He sounded so detached when he spoke to you. It was the same way he talked to commanding officers and diplomats, not how he should speak to his wife. Not the way he used to talk to you. 

The fear you’d felt, the drop of your heart each time you looked into his eyes, intensified. He was teetering on the precipice of madness. You bit your lip, mulling over the right words to keep him from falling off the ledge. 

“I understand your quest,” your voice trembled with slight trepidation despite your best efforts to keep it even. “But Maedhros, the toll it’s taking on you…I fear for your well being.” 

His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration, impatience, and slight madness evident in his gaze. It made you nearly flinch, but you held your ground. 

“You doubt me?” His voice had an edge so sharp it cut you like a knife. It intensified your anxiety, but you swallowed it, steeling yourself against your nerves. 

“I don’t doubt your intentions, Maedhros,” she replied, her voice steady now, “but I fear for what this obsession is doing to you.” 

Your words seemed to strike a chord within him, his anger momentarily giving way to a flicker of doubt. A moment of clarity within his addled mind. “You think I don’t know the burden I bear?” he murmured, his voice softening now, but the anger still lingered beneath the surface. 

“I know, my love,” you replied, much softer this time. You crossed the room’s threshold, gingerly sweeping your knuckles across his cheek. His eyes flutter shut, momentarily allowing your soothing touch to wash over him. “But I can’t bear to see you suffer like this. Your people need you. I need you. Not just as a leader but as a husband too.”

His eyes opened, and the green within them softened as his anger began to wane. Yet the turmoil was still evident within him. He was a man fighting two wars, one war with the forces of Morgoth and the second war within himself. 

“It’s not easy for me either, and I curse the day I swore that oath.” His confession made the flicker of hope within you get bigger. Perhaps you’d successfully pulled him from the ledge. “But I cannot turn away from my destiny.” 

Just as soon as it appeared, the hope was snuffed out; stubborn and proud, you now cursed what you used to admire about him most. 

“But at what cost, Maedhros? The Oath has led to nothing but tragedy and death. You are losing yourself in this darkness, forsaking all that once mattered. Look around you! Our people suffer, our family crumbles, and still, you are blinded by this madness!” Desperate and pleading, you tried to force him to see reason. 

As if your touch was made of acid, Maedhros pulled away and sidestepped you, a sea separating you from him. The anger returned to his eyes as they hardened once more. The brief moment of vulnerability was gone, and it was difficult to remember if it had ever even been there, to begin with. 

“And for what? For some gems that shine prettily,” you continued; he needed to hear your words, to taste the venom behind them. If he held even an ounce of love for you, he would heed your warning. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, lost amidst the blaze of anger that threatened to burn the whole world. 

“You know nothing of the weight I carry,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a freshly sharpened sword. “You are my wife, not an advisor; quit constantly questioning me and stand by my side as you were intended to.”

The words caught in your throat faded, replaced with a bitter taste of the last bit of love and hope you held for Maedhros dying. Your eyes fell to the floor; there was nothing left to do. The butterflies he incited within you had turned to ash. Everything the two of you built crumbled, and Maedhros gladly helped, knocking down the pillars it once stood upon. 

The Maedhros you loved was long gone; what stood before you now was a shell of the man he once was.

“If that’s the way you feel.” It was all you uttered before exiting the room, leaving Maedhros in the dimly lit room with nothing but anger and regret. He wanted to call out to you, to beg you to stay and reassure you he hadn’t meant it. But the grip of madness was unyielding, and even in the depths of sorrow, it would not relent.

The Silmarils that had once been a beacon of hope now seemed to mock him, and the emptiness in his heart felt like a chasm he could never fill.

In the stillness of the night, as Maedhros lay slumbering, you stole away into vast open fields. Cloaked in the darkness that came with night, you ran, nowhere in particular, just so long as it was as far away from Maedhros. Your heart was heavy with the weight of your decision and the finality of the ending of a love you thought would last forever. Yet the echoes of the argument lingered; his harsh words and austere face were a haunting reminder of what had been lost. 

“It’s better this way,” you told yourself. 

You would carry the memory of Maedhros until your dying day, praying that he might find solace and release from his Oath. But you couldn’t count on it, and you wouldn’t waste your days hoping he’d change. 

“It’s better this way,” you repeated once more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The warm glow of the sun was waning, warning you of the impending cloak of night. 

You stood on the cliffside, staring into the waters below, feet buried in the overgrowth and dirt. The air was cool, and the world was quiet. So serene and perfect that it was hard to believe it was real. You burrowed your feet deeper into the dirt, desperate to ground yourself into reality. 

The mellowness of your surroundings eased the grief within your heart. War was over, and the suffering you’d endured was but a distant dream. Residing in the lands of Aman, you could forget your life had been anything other than something full of beautiful poetic prose. 

Yet it was hard to let go of all of your pain. But as time passed, it became twisted, no longer the stabbing pain of a needle. It poured from you into a melancholia that you would use to paint all your skies a dark blue. It lingered in the edges of your landscape, blurred in the edges and nearly unseen by anyone except for you. 

A soft hum escaped your mouth as you allowed the sound of cascading waves to fall over you. Eyes fluttered shut, the faint mist of water touching your body. 

You only opened your eyes once the sound of footsteps was heard. Your posture stiffened, ears sharpening to hone in on the sounds of the intruder. No one dared to intrude upon you, and if they did, it was preemptively planned, never just a sudden visit. 

Slowly, you turned, but you were still surprised even though you didn’t know what to expect. 

Standing before you, as tall and proud as the day you’d first met, was Maedhros. He was vibrant and real, only a hint of tentative uncertainty marring his neutral expression. He stopped a few paces away, silent as you took him in. Framed by the soft glow of the golden rays of sunlight, he was just as you remembered him, yet with an unmistakable touch of time. 

It wasn’t in the traditional ways of humans; there were no wrinkles and lines imprinted on his face. It was all in the eyes, the centuries of wisdom, pain, and suffering making them heavier than they once were. 

He’d died. You knew that. He cast himself into the fire alongside his brother when he could no longer possess the Silmarils. It was said they burned him upon contact and it was a fate too terrible for him to live. You’d wept for days on end upon learning his fate. 

And yet here he was, as real as the day you’d met. 

“Maedhros.” His name hung in the air as if you were unsure it was truly him. He simply nodded, an affirmation that he was really here, standing before you.  

Silence stretched between the two of you, your eyes locked in a gaze that spoke the words your lips couldn’t find. There was a tempest of emotions within you - joy, relief, curiosity, and a lingering sense of hurt you couldn’t fully let go of. 

And then, like the first rays of sunrise, a smile graced Maedhros’ lips, and it was as if the years spent separated vanished. The arguments disappeared with them, leaving only an overwhelming happiness to see him standing before you. Your strides were sure as you stepped towards Maedhros, and he helped to close the gap, your arms weaving around his body as you embraced him for the first time in years.

He smelled just how you’d remembered, and you buried your face into his chest, determined to remember how his arm felt around your waist. 

“Is it really you?” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and delight.

You felt the rumble of Maedhros’ slight laughter as he nodded his head. “ Yes, it’s me, my love.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough that you could see his face but close enough that you could feel the warmth he radiated. “I- I can’t believe it; how is this even possible?” You were nearly out of breath as you spoke, eyes searching for answers within his. 

“A twist of fate, I suppose. I was released from the Halls of Mandos, my time of repentance done.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his grip on you tightening. “I should have listened to you the night that you left. You were right, and I was just to--”

You cut him off by placing a searing kiss on his lips. His words were forgotten, the long speech he’d probably been preparing since the moment you left cut off. There would be an eternity for forgiveness and apologetic words. Right now, you just wanted to remember how his lips had felt on yours.

He melted into the kiss, his lips just as sweet as you’d remembered them to be. The years melted into oblivion; it was just you and Maedhros, with nothing severing the love you held. The kiss was a mixture of vehement remorse and a promise to never forsake the promise of love he’d made to you. Time slowed as the two of you savored the moment, fully immersed in the warmth of his body and the taste of his lips. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you and Maedhros stayed tangled in one another. You’d both been given a second chance, something you hadn’t dared to think would be possible. And yet here he was, so intertwined with you it was hard to see where you ended and he began. It was a chance to reignite a love that had never fully died out.

[phoxey]

Decide.

This is part 2, for part 1 click here

Lusher x Bebe!reader

CW: still angst, alcohol, breakdown, mental health issues

AN: I promise this has a good ending. trust me.

Her eyes filled with tears.

She didn’t answer and you watched tears rolling down her face before you sighed.

“I see.”, you whispered but Seoyoung looked at you as though you had slapped her.

Without another word you left the room, the building and Seoyoung.

With every step you took, your heart broke into more and more pieces. It physically hurt you, but you kept walking. A part of you wished that Seoyoung would run after you and try to get you back, but you knew she wouldn’t, she had made her decision. And you had made yours.

You wandered restlessly through the night for what seemed like twenty minutes but were actually hours. At some point you sat down on the side of the road, no care to be seen. Slowly you got out your phone.

23 missed calls. 8 by Bada, 5 by Tatter, 4 by Minah, 3 by Cheche, 2 by Kyma, 1 by Soweon.

Seoyoung didn’t call you once.

Your messages were going crazy as well.

Bada:

What happened? Seoyoung is crying! Come back! She told me what happened. Come back please. We can figure this out. Pick up your phone! Please

Taeyoung:

Pick up pick up pick up Please Please Where are you? We are worried! Come back, we can talk about it! I promise, everything will be alright!

You huffed. As if. Nothing would be alright. Seoyoung and you would have no future together, not if she was ashamed of being your girlfriend. You know it was fanservice and it didn’t mean anything, but you couldn’t stand seeing her flirt with the same people who cursed you out.

You stood up and wandered around some more. The streets were almost empty. The sky was clear, and you could see many stars. Seoyoung would be talking about the star constellations now if she were with you. Or show you a star and tell you that it was your star. She was cheesy like that. But you couldn’t help but notice how the stars didn’t shine as bright this night and the moon seemed smaller than usual. It seemed like the night sky was sad. Reflecting your own feelings.

Before a tear could roll down your cheek, your phone interrupted you. It was Seoyoung’s mom.

“Hello?”, you asked timidly as you picked up.

“Thank God! What is happening? Seoyoungi sent us a cryptic message, but we can’t reach her!”

“I…I think we broke up.”, you said, your voice cracking.

“What why?”

“Long story… What was the message?”, you asked worriedly.

“Look, I really don’t know what happened between you two, but she wrote that her life doesn’t make any sense anymore, and that she wished she wouldn’t exist. That you would be happier without her.”

“What?!”, you practically screeched.

“Do you know where she could be? I am scared, she will hurt herself.”, Seoyoung’s mom sobbed.

“I think I know. I will talk to her. Don’t worry.”, you said hastily and ended the call.

You practically sprinted to the apartment that you and Seoyoung shared.

When you came in all the lights were off, but you could hear sobbing from the living room. Carefully you turned on one of the dimmer lights. Seoyoung sat in front of the couch, slumped over, her entire body trembling with sobs. Tears shot into your eyes. Then you noticed the many empty soju bottles around her.

“Oh God…”, you whispered and were immediately next to her, a hand on her back.

She looked up confused. Her face was swollen and her eyes wet and red. Her pupils were large and unfocused. You couldn’t resist and leaned in to kiss her forehead, as you always did when she was crying.

A sharp pain shot through your face when she slapped you before your lips could reach her forehead.

“I have a girlfriend!”, she said angrily.

“W-What?”, you stuttered confused and held your cheek.

“Oh right… not anymore… she hates me.”, she slurred.

Only then you realized that Seoyoung was probably too drunk to even recognize you.

“She doesn’t hate you.”, you said gently, wanting to calm her.

She shook her head. “She does. I hurt her.”

“Seoyoung… nae nabi…”, you sighed.

“That’s what she always called me.”, Seoyoung sobbed. “And I’m so stupid and hurt her. I didn’t want to… I swear… I only wanted to protect her…”

“Protect from what?”, you asked confused.

“M-My girlfriend… she had suffered too much already…”, she hiccupped. “She wants to go public, but I’m scared that… it will hurt her only more…”

“What do you mean?”

“Her parents said cruel things because she loved me… If the public found out… she would live through that again. I don’t want her to be subject to that again… I love her so much…”

Tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sure she would live through all of that again happily if that meant she could kiss and hug you for the world to see.”, you whispered.

“Do you think?”, Seoyoung asked. Her hands started to frantically search for something. “I… I should call her… Apologize… maybe I should post on Instagram… about us.”

You took her hands gently. “Talk to her tomorrow, she is probably asleep right now. And you should too.”

“Yeah… I don’t want to wake her. She is so pretty when she sleeps, y’know? She will tell you no, but I like to wake up next to her and she is still sleeping… So peaceful…”

“You can tell her tomorrow, okay? She would want you to sleep now.”, you said and pulled her up.

Seoyoung wasn’t able to keep standing, but before she could fall you had already scooped her up into your arms. Gently you carried her to your shared bedroom and put her on her side of the bed, but she immediately rolled over to your side.

“This side smells like her… I miss her…”, she mumbled into your pillow.

You couldn’t help but smile fondly. You tucked her in, wrapping your blanket around her. Then you laid down next to her, watching as she drifted off to sleep. You thought, she was right. A gay relationship would hurt Bebe in the competition. You would tell her that it’s fine to come out after SWF was over. That you would delete your social media until then.

You quickly sent Seoyoung’s mother a text, that her daughter is safe and fine, before you covered yourself in Seoyoung’s blanket and falling asleep as well.

You woke up to a hand on your cheek and half opened eyes gazing at you.

“I must be dreaming still.”, she whispered.

You turned your head to kiss her wrist. Then you smiled softly at her.

“You’re not. I’m here.”

“Listen, I-…”, you broke her off with a finger on her lips.

“It’s okay.”

“But-…”

You shook your head. “No. Don’t.”

She closed her mouth then and proceeded to caress your cheek, lost in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?”, you asked.

“You know… I’d always choose you.”

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Hello again! I was the anon that asked what interactions you would like to see with Alhaitham and Kaveh (and I am the reader that made the two listed comments). Thank you for the thoughtful response. It's so interesting to hear your perspective of these two. I hope you had a nice vacation. My one takeaway from Cyno story quest act II is that Cyrus was acquainted with the Sumeru crew's parents. He was shown in the photo from Kaveh's handout standing behind Alhaitham's father. I don't imagine they were close or anything, but it does make me intrigued. I wonder if they would explore more of that group in the future, given how they relate (literally and in parallels) with the Sumeru crew.

Hiya! I’ve finally managed to find time to dedicate to this ask, it’s scratched the itch in my brain! I, apparently, have quite a few thoughts about this topic so thank you for asking! Also !!! Thank you for previous asks AND the listed comments on my fic??? I truly appreciate the time you must have spent :,D <3333

This!! The specific detail of Cyrus canonically being mentioned to personally have met, not only Kaveh’s father and mother and tighnari’s parents, but ALSO alhaitham’s parents drives me insane because of how it is directly unmentioned.

It’s uncertain as to the extent of Cyno’s actual relationship with kaveh’s or alhaitham’s parents, but based on what Kaveh’s mother wrote, she, personally, didn’t seem to be close with cyrus, as she records their meeting to be the first instance in which she has met all the attendees. She records that her and her husband were invited to a gathering, but she knew none of those in attendance, only that her husband seemed to be friends with “the man with long ears” - being tighnari’s father. nothing is said about kaveh’s father knowing the other people in attendance, but as it isn’t specified, it also isn’t impossible? faranak does write that it’s unlikely they’ll see any of the people in attendance again after the gathering - but i imagine that tighnari’s father here is an exception, given that he and kaveh’s father are recorded to be friends (also, the only inkling i have for the 'talkative woman' is potentially madam faruzan? but as this is so vague i'm not too sure about speculating)

kaveh’s mother having canonically met alhaitham’s parents drives me a little bit !??!!?? because kaveh notes that the figures in the drawing seem familiar, which, of course, doesn’t mean he has identified alhaitham’s parents, especially after he disregards any potential connection with “maybe we were thinking too much.” but given tighnari’s father being a fennec it is rather odd(?) that he doesn’t make a more personal connection, at least to tighnari's father being the "friend" to his father that his mother writes about

however, in terms of what the narrative is trying to achieve in kaveh's hangout, it does make sense that these dots aren’t connected. the point here isn’t that kaveh recognises these figures, but rather that he relates the companionship in the drawing to those around him. kaveh’s hangout is very much symbolic, being that each figure in faranak’s drawing is meant to represent kaveh’s friendship group, meaning he should rely on his friends, tighnari, cyno, and alhaitham - as the quest is entitled “companionship, the sole antidote”

the fact kaveh DOESN’T identify cyrus in the picture leaves room for development, or future mention of this. Cyrus canonically talks to zaha hadi, kaveh’s mother’s lecturer, about kaveh, and zaha hadi is the person whom kaveh turns to in order to learn about his mother when she was younger.

There’s definitely potential to draw upon here - if cyrus knows he has met kaveh’s parents in the past, and he and kaveh have a personal rapport due to kaveh’s friendships with cyno and tighnari, it seems strange that he omits this detail? Especially, if it’s considered canon that kaveh’s hangout has taken place in-game, then cyrus, given that zaha hadi mentions kaveh to him, might be aware that kaveh has been asking about his mother?

(A counter to this would be that due to cyrus’s potential limited encounter with both kaveh’s father and mother, and that it took place over thirty years ago, he has no basis to open this dialogue with kaveh, as it may be a sore spot (This could also apply with cyrus having met alhaitham’s parents - perhaps he simply only met them once, but still, i crave alhaitham parent crumbs) - however, in an ideal world, this could be some sort of catalyst or feed into the idea of kaveh potentially reaching out to his mother in future events, perhaps with cyrus referencing this past gathering(?)

Now, moving onto tighnari’s parents, who are very much alive and well, and also have canonically met kaveh’s parents - with tighnari’s father being directly stated to be close with kaveh’s father, in terms of the gathering at least. with tighnari and kaveh being friends due to exchanging letters during the construction of the palace of alcazarzaray, rather than tighnari’s parents’ influence, could indicate that kaveh’s mother dropped all contact with any friends or acquaintances, which i think likely. however, i am !??!!?? very confused about this implication

tighnari’s parents would, of course, know that kaveh is tighnari’s close friend, and i presume that kaveh has met tighnari’s parents at some point, so from this, i would imagine that tighnari’s parents having known/met kaveh’s parents may have come up at some point? Especially with tighnari’s father being recorded as being friends with kaveh’s father, at least from faranak’s perspective?

in terms of the canon, however, this appears to not be the case, so i would LOVE for this to be mentioned at some point!! Especially as sumeru cast heavily revolves around family, found and biological (i’m looking at you cyno’s second story quest)

In terms of alhaitham’s parents, the only mentions of them are in alhaitham’s character stories and here in kaveh’s hangout. there’s no indicator as to whether alhaitham’s parents were close or just acquaintances with cyrus, kaveh’s father, or tighnari’s parents, but in my mind i think it’s interesting that his character stories record his grandmother teaching him of his parents, and his retaining part of his parents’ book collection when his grandmother passes. basically i think alhaitham treasures what he does know of his parents, and i think a lil mention of them by people we KNOW met them, if only for one gathering, would be appreciated

So this links directly to kaveh’s mother - if she is ever mentioned in the future, it would be INSANE wish fulfilment if her drawing was returned to, and the figures were identified, and memories from those present and alive could be shared

(I also think it’s so funny that her son is roommates/innately bound by mirror symbolism/married to the son of the people she thought were uncomfortable and awkward. basically i am in DIRE need of a kaveh and faranak reunion and for them to sort their issues, obviously for kaveh’s development and reconciliation within himself, but also for a faranak-alhaitham interaction…. Can you imagine. Now i have thoughts about that, but this has gotten off topic!!!)

Of course, i’m aware that i’m overthinking a lot of this, and this could be one of the many plot discrepancies within genshin, and that as a result of creating symbolism, in-game implications were created that weren’t supposed to be touched upon, but i think a lot of fun comes with discussing and hypothesising (manifesting) these things!!

Thank you so much for your ask!! Delving back into this part of kaveh’s hangout is always a treat, so i hope you enjoy reading my brainrot :,)