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bloodweep · 9 months

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I am so not okay about John Dory, I fucking love him

He is the biggest jock acting motherfucker (affectionate) in the best way possible.

With that being said, some of my headcannons about him:

━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━

⇢ ˗ˏˋ First time meeting ࿐ྂ

I like being delulu and imagining the trolls human size and everyone else are just giants.

That being said I headcannon him to be 5’11

‗ ❍ He’s cocky, no doubt about that, he expects to be recognized and enjoys it if he is, if he’s not, he’ll get disappointed and upset, however it’s nothing too derail us beyond a “have you been living under a rock? How do you NOT know me? Brozone?”

‗ ❍ All smiles, teeth showing and everything, I like to think he has sharp fangs - all four of them

‗ ❍ He likes being close, doesn’t matter if he’s know you for a few minutes or years

‗ ❍ He’s definitely touched-starved, which contributes to him wanting to be close to people

‗ ❍ After a few meetings he gets more bolder with his touching, whether is a hand on the shoulder, arm over the shoulders or full on hugging

‗ ❍ The touching gets more intense as meetings continue

‗ ❍ ABSOLUTELY no situational awareness, he will scream your name and come running up to you, if he is up high he will preform stunts to get to you - if he nails it he will look around showing off those fangs in a smile to get an applause

‗ ❍ Eventually every time he sees you, you will get hugged, always into his side, one arm around your shoulders and his cheek nuzzling into yours

‗ ❍ Ugh, he definitely has nice stubble that rubs so nicely into your skin, I imagine he also has a sole patch just under his lip the barley connects to the rest of the stubble

‗ ❍ These types of hugs will last longer and longer, his nuzzling getting more aggressive, moving to behind your ear to scent

‗ ❍ He would start flirting, perhaps terrible at start, just to gauge what you enjoy and don’t

‗ ❍ Would want your attention solely on him at times, may get a bit aggressive if it’s not

‗ ❍ His aggression wouldn’t be directed towards you, only other people

‗ ❍ The most aggression he’ll show you would be angered voice, side comments, forcibly putting himself in between you and the person(s) you’re speaking to

‗ ❍ JD definitely growls , snarls and bares his teeth at people if he cannot get your attention

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Him Crushing ࿐ྂ

‗ ❍ He wouldn’t understand it at first, being he was alone for so long - besides Rhonda - he’s incredibly touched-starved

‗ ❍ JD thinks he’s just lonely and wants more affection and attention from people, hence his grabbiness with his brothers and forcing them into hugs

‗ ❍ However he would be quicker to know that the attention he wants from you is far different than he craves for his family; or even poppy and viva

‗ ❍ If you think how much he touches you now is intense wait until he fully understands his emotions

‗ ❍ Definitely grabby with the hands, especially placing his non-gloved hand in yours, to show he wants that closeness

‗ ❍ UGH HE WOULD SO GIVE YOU THE OTHER GLOVE SO YOU COULD WEAR IT

‗ ❍ Would expect you to wear it, but wouldn’t force it if you didn’t feel comfortable

‗ ❍ Would stand close to you, invading your space

‗ ❍ Would try to always keep your attention on him

‗ ❍ When he does hug you and rub his cheek against yours he would definitely nuzzle his nose into the shell of your ear

‗ ❍ Would be bold with his confession

‗ ❍ Asks you out privately however, away from everyone just in case you reject him he could pretend it never happened

‗ ❍ He’s ecstatic when you accept his confession

‗ ❍ This is the time he would definitely start to hug you properly, chest to chest, his head resting on yours, purring

‗ ❍ Most definitely a loud mouth and his brothers would end up knowing without him thinking about asking you

‗ ❍ Of course every relationship has its faults he does still have a pretty big ego and does have a habit of storming off, but reuniting with his family, he has seen that he shouldn’t do that and actually talk to out

‗ ❍ if he cannot find himself to do so; he will tell you that he needs space

‗ ❍ though he’s the one to leave so you can be comfortable where you are or we will bring you home

‗ ❍ He doesn’t know how to properly make it up to you, all he knows is to pretend it never happened - this is something you two need to work out

‗ ❍ but he will bring back goodies, flowers, food etc. and want to hang out

‗ ❍ nights like that his insecurities get the best of him - maybe it is better if he should leave, he just hurts people, but he keeps this to himself

‗ ❍ he just cuddles, laying flat on his back with you on top of him, the weight keeps him grounded

‗ ❍ After a while his nicknames will start coming out

‗ ❍ “hey little ma/mama” - this is for any gender that you identify as, it’s a cocky little thing he picked up

‗ ❍ “babe / baby / babydoll” a lot; like a lot especially if he’s nuzzling into you and scent marking

‗ ❍ Into biting, mainly started as nonsexual, an outlet to express his emotions he could not vocalize

I’ll figure out sexual headcanons later * as I haven’t indulged in that side just yet

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Random ࿐ྂ

‗ ❍ hates strawberries

‗ ❍ hates large bodies of water (streams and ponds are okay, rivers are pushing it) - he fell in one and struggled to get out when he left Brozone and was on his own

‗ ❍ actually prefers meat over sweets hence the fangs

‗ ❍ big tail, that drags on the ground if he doesn’t pick it up, has horns/spikes going down the length with a big fuzzy end

‗ ❍ loves when you play with it and only lets you touch it

‗ ❍ walks around in boxers inside Rhonda for the longest time

‗ ❍ finally made his own home but still is often with her

‗ ❍ gets you whatever you want, even if it’s the silliest thing like a feather off a duck with one eye or something

┗━━━━━━━━ ✦❘༻༺❘✦ ━━━━━━━━━┛

More coming soon; I am so normal about him I swear

#john dory #brozone #trolls #trolls 3 #john dory x reader #headcanons #trolls band together

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vrisrezis · 1 year

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Guys this is au where suguru isn’t insane cuz in my mind he deserves eternal happiness and to be surrounded by people that love him and to live a long life and- yea anyways basically au where that didn’t happen and kuroi and Riko r actually fine

Also reader is considered to be on equal footing with geto and gojo, fellow “strongest” if you will :p

Also this was originally short hcs on how geto woos his stoic crush but I got carried away

Not proof read made this at like 3 am alr I’m so tired and sick and insane and this is probably terrible

I am under the believe suguru doesn’t even have to try to woo you, no matter how cold blooded and closed off you can be. Suguru is such a sweet man that it’s hard not to fall in love. No matter how much you try to reject it, it will happen one way or another. That doesn’t mean he knows it, but he will still have that power over you regardless. He has such a sickly sweet laugh, it’s impossible to not stare and admire. It’s impossible to not make your heart race, to not feel that sudden heat on your cheeks that thankfully isn’t noticeable. His genuine smile has you on cloud nine, but your favorite is when he shyly looks away from your hard gaze that never softens, despite how the male makes you feel deep within your very soul. The world will never know how bad you have it for him. Suguru is rather closed off about his affections towards you himself, though not nearly as much. Besides he makes it pretty obvious to you anyway, as you are somebody who has mastered the art of hiding how you truly feel. It’s in your blood to read through any facade, especially somebody you pay such close attention to.

Suguru, at first, is overly polite with a shy smile. The attempts in becoming a friend are certainly there, but he’s not as bold as his best friend is, so it’s a rather slow progression. And honestly, without gojos help, he wouldn’t have been able to form such a close bond with you over time thanks to how extroverted the white haired male can be. Regardless, over time as he grows more comfortable with being your friend, he teases you, he even shows subtle ways of being affectionate, typically through casual, physical touch. A hand or elbow on your shoulder, fixing your hair, etc. though he could be bolder, your general personality drives him away from closer and more intimate touches. He still gets rather shy around you, and when you grow comfortable enough to be in close proximity of him, his cheeks get all red. Which you secretly think is adorable. His general shyness around you indicates his affections towards you as well, he’s constantly left wondering if you can just feel how much his heart constantly pounds around you. Or if you feel his gaze on you during class. He wonders if you appreciate his kind gestures, constantly trying to take you out and buy you food or simply buying you things you’ve learnt to open up to him about enjoying. He wonders if you know how grateful he is and how special he feels, knowing you of all people trust him with things you wouldn’t trust just anybody with, even if it’s something as small as admitting to the games you like playing.

You’re both smitten for eachother, one way or the other. You’re not completely clueless to it like he is, but you’re scared. You’re scared of vulnerability, you’re scared to love another human being. Because that means admitting to weakness. It means admitting that you’ve let another person get the best of you, when you’ve worked you’re entire life trying to be as strong as you possibly could be, to not let a single person in, to only be able to rely on yourself, because you’re the only one that’s trustworthy, letting people in gets you hurt, leaves you broken. All that time, building up those walls, all the pain and abuse and torture you went through, was all broken by some pretty boy in the matter of seconds. And for some god damn reason you welcomed it with open arms. And for some god damn reason, you don’t regret it. You feel the happiest you ever felt. It’s strange, cause before him you think you didn’t even know what happiness really felt like. All you knew was pain, all you knew was people would hurt you if you got too close. A part of you thinks, you were happy because you finally learnt how to love another, and you finally learnt what it felt like to have another love you. You know he loves you for you, not in spite of you. But a part of you, just can’t believe it was so easy, so effortless. Not only to love him, but to be loved. You chased endlessly after your family, to pay attention and to give a damn and for them to show some sign they cared. The day never came. But now you know, that love isn’t something you should bend yourself over backwards for. Love isn’t forced, it is natural. And yet, you felt yourself trying to go back to your old ways, in fear of history repeating itself.

You tried pushing him away, again. After everything that happened with toji, you realized you could lose geto in an entirely new way and you were not willing to go through that again. You needed him away from you, out of your life. You needed to focus on being a jujutsu sorcerer, that was what was most important.

You were exhausted. And it’s no question why.

Once again you are training at a rather late hour, something you seem to have been doing nonstop since you “failed” to deal with toji in time before your two boys nearly died in the process. You were always very hard on yourself for things like these, one of the few things you were pretty open about was your personal failures. Doesn’t matter to you that you were stabbed in the stomach, that you shouldn’t be training, you didn’t care. Things like this never stopped you, why should it now? Besides, you’ve been through worse.

Suguru had tried countless times to get you to stop, this included gojo and even shoko, too. But you didn’t listen. You never listened to them anyway.

But the moment he sees this going on for officially five days straight, he’s had enough.

“Still at it, huh?” he says, but you don’t even bother to stop and look at him. It’s become routine at this point for him to come and try to get you out of this motion you’ve been stuck in. Besides that, you’ve been trying to keep him at arms length. You don’t bother saying anything, putting both your fists out to have your hands let out a particularly smaller fire than what you normally would’ve made. You stop for a brief moment, huffing at the lack of results.

“Maybe some sleep will do you good?” he suggests, but you don’t bother to look at him as you continue your training, seemingly ignoring him. He lets out a sigh, suguru is not one to be stern with you. Out of the two of you, you’re the one that does the scolding, though it’s typically towards gojo, it’s been towards the raven haired male on several occasions, due to his overconfidence in a lot of the situations he’s constantly being put in.

“Don’t push everyone away, y/n.” he says, his voice being the most stable you’ve ever heard it. His voice is firm, rigid, even. “Don’t push me away.”

There’s a moment where you stop, a brief moment, but it’s enough for him to quickly put a hand on your shoulder. You look down, your back facing him. Your hands are clenched in fists in a feeble attempt to make yourself seem strong, to make yourself seem unfazed, unavailable. You don’t need anyone. You don’t need him, either. Why have you suddenly convinced yourself you do? You’ve lived your entire life without him. Why does it suddenly feel like you need him? It’s not fair.

You grit your teeth, but you finally allow him to turn you around.

He finally gets a real good look at you, for the first time in a couple days. He noticed you were losing weight, sleep too, but he didn’t think it got this bad. He lets out a guilty sigh at the pure sight of you, and you hate how it sounds. Like he’s pitying you. But honestly, how can you blame him? You are a pitiful sight. It’s a disgrace to consider yourself one of the strongest.

“Whens the last time you ate?” he finally manages to ask you, “slept?” his voice is laced with concern, but you don’t meet his worried gaze. “Who knows..” you shrug, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Are you done worrying about me, cuz I have shit to do.” you say, in your usual nonchalant manner. Trying to pull off this facade this late has you exhausted.

You two haven’t been very intimate with one another, but suguru finds his soft hand on your cheek anyway, causing you to look up at the male in front of you. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “don’t hide from me, please?” he says, “this has been hard for me and satoru too but… even we are learning that we’re okay, what’s got you so messed up over this?”

You look up at him, you don’t push himself way anymore. You accept him with open arms.

“I feel like I failed you all.” you admit. “I feel as though there’s something I could’ve done. The mistakes I made on that mission nearly cost kuroi and rikos lives, I wasn’t good enough. I cannot forgive myself for that.”

He pulls his hand away from your face, you almost want to glare at him for the lack of touch, but he grabs your hands instead. “Jeez..” he says, sounding pretty tired himself. “You’re always too hard on yourself y/n. It was me that practically failed to protect them, you’re the one that saved them, you know. And, if it weren’t for you, that fushiguro wouldn’t even be dead right now. If you’re really beating yourself up over that, please don’t.”

You sigh, looks away from him, “I just don’t … want to fail again. More than anything I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Suguru seems to take in your words, as if something was finally clicking with him.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks, and you almost want to cringe at his words. You quietly nod.

“Y/n, Cmon. You could never lose me. One of the strongest, remember?” he says, a soft smile peaking through, but you shake your head, taking your arms away from his. He frowns, seeing you retract again. “Yeah well, I almost did. I almost wasn’t enough to stop you from dying. I was almost the reason you died.” you say, and honestly it’s the first time since you were a young child you let anger drip from your voice. He almost hates it’s directed towards him. But a part of him knows he need to let it out somehow, someway, after everything you seem to constantly bottle up.

“There was a time in my life I had nothing, suguru. And now I have everything. I have you. I am not willing to lose that. Anytime I form a connection with anyone, I lose them. That cannot happen to me again.”

You feel arms wrap around you. It’s sudden, “tch- do you not listen to me when I talk? Yknow, I should really kill you.” you threaten, but as his hand comes in contact with the back of your head to stroke your hair, you fall silent. “I love you.” he admits, quietly.

“I don’t care how you feel about me,” he continued, “but no matter what, I want to be there for you. You won’t lose me, you know? I’ll always come back to you. Cause my love for you is so strong, it’s enough for me to change fate itself, to escape even the clutches of death. I love you so much, I would do absolutely anything to make sure you wouldn’t lose me. It’s okay to let me in, fully and unapologetically.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret opening up to me.”

It takes you a minute, but you finally allow him in. You wrap your arms around him, you let yourself cry for the first time since you were a child, for the first time in front of anyone since you were an infant, you allow yourself to finally grieve, to cry, to feel.

And you welcome it, with open arms.

#geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru geto x reader #getou x reader #getou x y/n #getou x you #suguru getou x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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gimmethatagustd · 8 hours

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the heart nebula (2) | kth + pjm

♡ Summary: It has been a year since Jimin and Taehyung started dating, and they still haven't slept together. Jimin thinks they haven't because Taehyung doesn't want him; Taehyung thinks Jimin won't want him if they do. (Or, the one where Jimin is Taehyung's moon, and Taehyung is from the stars.)

♡ Pairing: Taehyung x Jimin

♡ Words: 3,387

♡ Rating: Explicit

♡ Genre: Science fiction, established relationship, angst, smut, fluff

♡ Warnings: They're cute but it's vmin and i wrote them so that's to be expected, groping, the tentacles are back or whateva, we're learning all about alien culture

♡ Post Date: September 23, 2024

♡ Notes: I'm probably on a plane rn~ Maybe? Idk how time zones work.

♡ Masterlist ♡ AO3 Crosspost

♡ series masterlist ♡

“Tae.”

“Hmm?”

Taehyung lifts his chin to look at Jimin. They’re in their living room, taking advantage of a stormy Saturday evening, the thunderstorm outside competing with the TV playing softly in the background. Jimin sits on the couch with his back against the arm and his legs sprawled out. Between Jimin’s legs, Taehyung lies on his stomach, his arms wrapped around Jimin’s waist and his head resting on Jimin’s abdomen.

An educational docuseries about sharks plays on the TV, but Jimin is busy reading a book he recently borrowed from the library. He put on the docuseries for Taehyung, anyway, since Taehyung has decided that sharks are his favorite Earth animal species.

When Jimin mentioned assuming Taehyung would have picked the octopus, Taehyung almost threw him onto the floor.

“What did you like to do for fun back home?” Jimin asks, closing his book and carefully setting it on the coffee table without jostling Taehyung too much.

Two of Taehyung’s tentacles are playing in Jimin’s hair at the back of his head. When Jimin reaches up to touch them, he realizes the tentacles have been braiding his hair — and rather well, all things considered. Sometimes, Jimin wonders if Taehyung even notices when he does these little affectionate gestures with his tentacles or if they simply come naturally to him.

“I liked to read, too,” Taehyung speaks slowly while he thinks, his words weaving through the air like his tentacles weave through Jimin’s hair. “Mysteries, mostly. And I enjoyed athletics.”

“Sports like ours?”

Taehyung grins when he uses another tentacle to flick the underside of Jimin’s chin.

“Do you think humans are the most interesting creatures in the universe, little moon? Because, unfortunately, I have news for you.”

“Ahh, Taehyung, quit it,” Jimin groans and tries to shoo away the tentacle at his chin. Instead, he ends up tickling it back with his fingers when the tentacle curls against his collarbone. “I don’t know anything about all that.”

Jimin waves his hand at the ceiling as if gesturing to the universe above, and Taehyung laughs.

“We have our own games but adopted some human customs, too. And I am fantastic at playing basketball,” Taehyung is smug, and it makes Jimin smile.

“That’s just because you have more limbs than a normal person.”

“I have the same number of limbs as the rest of my people,” Taehyung points out.

Thinking about a world where tentacles are a regular part of life is fascinating. Jimin wonders what he would look like if he had them. Would they be as troublesome as Taehyung’s? Jimin has yet to understand Taehyung’s relationship with his tentacles. He can tell when Taehyung is controlling them, but he hasn’t figured out why they behave the way they do when Taehyung lets them “roam” — as he calls it. Taehyung is a very composed person, even when he’s being cheeky. His tentacles must be the parts of his personality he has to be more intentional about controlling.

“I wish I had tentacles,” Jimin confesses with a sigh.

One of Taehyung’s tentacles wiggles out from the collar of his t-shirt. He uses it to boop Jimin on the nose. That action was definitely intentional from Taehyung, not just “roaming” behavior. Such a little shit.

Taehyung grins, boxy and bright. It seems that all Jimin and Taehyung do these days is smile, laugh, and look at each other with so much love that it’s sickening.

“You would look cute with them.”

“Really?” Jimin asks shyly. He tries ducking his head to look away from Taehyung, but the tentacle that had booped him in the nose grabs his chin and pulls him back to face Taehyung again.

“Little moon,” Taehyung adjusts his position to be level with Jimin so he can get closer, “I bet they would be small and sneaky, just like you.”

“Oh, whatever.” Jimin rolls his eyes, but his stomach flutters at the thought. Magically growing tentacles could never happen; that doesn’t mean he can’t dream about it.

Based on what Taehyung has said about his tentacles in the past, Jimin infers that he is Taehyung’s first relationship with a human. He wonders if that is meaningful in any way. There seem to be so many similarities between humans and Taehyung’s people that Jimin wonders if relationships and physical intimacy are the same, too. He certainly hopes so. Jimin doesn’t want to think about the possibility that he can’t give Taehyung everything he wants, needs, and deserves, all because Jimin is a human.

“You’ve become so pensive,” Taehyung murmurs. He brushes the tip of his nose against Jimin’s, forcing out a huff of playful irritation from Jimin’s parted lips.

“Are you saying I normally don’t think?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows — a silent response that rings loud and clear.

“Watch your show!” Jimin scolds Taehyung’s snarky behavior and snatches his book from the coffee table.

Although they got through one intense conversation about their relationship, Jimin isn’t quite ready to start addressing all of them. He’s still a bit of a coward, so he lets Taehyung settle back down to learn about sharks and tells himself he doesn’t need to worry and rush so much anymore.

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t overcome his insecurities about his humanity as quickly as Taehyung overcomes his insecurities about his extraterrestrial status.

There are undoubtedly many downsides to being human, now that Jimin knows there is an alternative species to have been born into. Taehyung greatly enjoys pointing out such downsides. Apparently, these thoughts were hidden away in the past, and Taehyung is taking full advantage of Jimin’s new knowledge of extraterrestrial life to tease the fuck out of him.

For one, grocery shopping has become a whole production, with Taehyung playing a little game of risk and reward. He lets Jimin wobble on his tiptoes as he tries to reach a jar of gochujang on a grocery shelf just high enough that his little fingers slip against the edge.

“Shut up,” Jimin huffs over his shoulder at Taehyung’s giggling.

“You look so cute!”

Jimin gives Taehyung his middle finger.

“Grumpy little moon, aren’t you?” Taehyung murmurs more of the same questions he always asks Jimin, pondering what he should do with such a troublesome creature – as though Jimin is the only one causing trouble in their household!

Jimin can count five other things that cause worse trouble than he does. One of those things slips out from the hem of Taehyung’s t-shirt. He watches the tentacle extend long enough to curl around the jar and bring it down to place it into the grocery cart.

“It’s not fair,” Jimin huffs again and grabs the handle of the grocery cart to push it down the narrow aisle. “You’re lucky no one is around to see that.”

Taehyung trails behind him, with his tentacle put away and more giggles on his lips. Jimin swears his heart swells with affection, knowing Taehyung is comfortable, even when his confidence could get him into trouble.

Over time, their comfort with each other deepens, moving beyond just Taehyung’s playful antics during grocery shopping and his love for intergalactic sports. The changes come slowly. After Jimin and Taehyung's intense conversation, it takes Taehyung nearly a week before he finally lets his tentacles free when he’s at home. Even though Jimin said they were cool, he understood why Taehyung was still insecure.

Taehyung’s confidence in being himself around Jimin is growing now. It started off subtle, mostly evident in the little details of their domesticity — the light press of Taehyung’s fingers against Jimin’s waist as he steps past him in the kitchen, hugs from behind while Jimin brushes his teeth in the bathroom, and the gentle kiss against the side of his neck that comes with them, the casualness of Taehyung’s demeanor when Jimin video calls his parents.

Taehyung has always made Jimin feel loved and adored, but being loved by Taehyung when Taehyung is in a headspace where he is also giving himself love is an entirely different experience. Love like that reaches deeper. It means something more because it goes beyond just Jimin.

Watching Taehyung learn to love himself in an environment where he can’t even be himself without fear of getting caught by the government or being hurt by a human is enough to make Jimin cry. Even though they’d be mostly happy tears, he keeps them at bay so he doesn’t worry Taehyung.

They’d always been drawn to each other in a way Jimin had never experienced with anyone else, but this new chapter in their relationship goes far beyond what they had once shared.

Ever since the big reveal, Jimin feels like he’s having a sleepover with his best friend every night again.

At night, Taehyung stands beside Jimin in the bathroom. Through the mirror, Jimin watches Taehyung’s eyes crinkle in a smile as he tries not to laugh while brushing his teeth. Whereas Taehyung brushes his teeth with his hand holding his toothbrush, Jimin grins as one of Taehyung’s smaller tentacles holds Jimin’s toothbrush and brushes his teeth for him. It’s messier than Jimin would like, Taehyung’s tentacle far more uncoordinated than a human hand for a task like this.

The toothpaste foam dribbles down Jimin’s chin, making him step back with his hands under his face to prevent any from getting on the floor while Taehyung giggles so hard he almost chokes.

Looking back, it seems impossible that Taehyung could have imagined that Jimin wouldn’t still adore him once he learned the truth. Jimin loves Taehyung, and he loves his tentacles, too. They’re fun! Jimin insists that they are, though Taehyung is still working on trusting the adoration Jimin gives him.

They have all the time in the world to figure things out. Considering how far they’ve come in just a little over a year, Jimin isn’t worried.

“I forgot to tell you about Soomin’s party,” Jimin calls out to Taehyung once they brush their teeth. He gets settled in bed and waits for Taehyung to finish changing into his pajamas in the bathroom.

Taehyung still won’t get naked in front of Jimin. It has only been a few weeks since Taehyung shared his secret; Jimin understands if Taehyung still isn’t ready to cross that boundary. Although Taehyung said his tentacles are the only visible difference between himself and humans, Jimin wonders if there’s more to it than that.

Either way, he won’t rush Taehyung. Trust takes time, especially in a relationship like theirs.

“Did you guys dare each other to kiss?” Taehyung waggles his eyebrows once he emerges from the bathroom. He's shirtless to let his tentacles freely move around, and he's wearing loose plaid pajama pants.

Jimin does appreciate at least admiring the top half of Taehyung, and he has found the swell of Taehyung’s muscular pecs to be a lovely pair of pillows.

“What?!” Jimin looks up from his phone to narrow his eyes at Taehyung as he slips under the covers beside him.

“Isn’t that what humans do at parties? Play sexual dare games?”

Jimin snorts. He puts his phone away to charge on his nightstand and wonders where in the hell Taehyung got such an idea. Really, where are aliens getting their information?

“Maybe teenagers, but we’re too old for that. Unless we were, I don’t know, swingers or something.”

Taehyung snuggles against his pillow with wide, curious eyes and gazes up at Jimin.

"I've never heard of swingers," Taehyung says.

“They’re usually a married couple that likes to have sex with other married couples, sometimes together but sometimes… like, swapping each other’s spouses out.”

Jimin must visibly cringe because Taehyung bursts into laughter and flops onto his back. His tentacles slither out of the way to avoid being crushed underneath him.

“That would never happen in my culture.” Taehyung wipes tears from his eyes, and Jimin complains that it wasn’t that funny. “We are strictly monogamous.”

One of Taehyung’s tentacles flicks the underside of Jimin’s chin, and Jimin knows it’s Taehyung trying to be cheeky. His suspicion is confirmed when Taehyung turns his head to the side and winks.

“Good to know,” Jimin says with another snort to mask how flustered Taehyung makes him.

“The unity between couples is important to us,” Taehyung says thoughtfully after a moment of comfortable silence. “I suppose it’s because it goes beyond merely… saying I love you and living together or getting married. We connect on a spiritual level.”

Jimin closes his eyes as one of Taehyung’s tentacles gently brushes his hair away from his face. It lingers for a moment before ruffling his hair.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asks, barely getting the words out. There’s a reason why he hasn’t asked Taehyung about relationship dynamics on his home planet.

“When we mate, we create a bond. It’s hard to explain, but in a way, we can understand each other’s thoughts and sense each other’s feelings. There is no greater connection, no relationship as deep, even between family – it just isn’t the same.”

Taehyung speaks as though he knows what it feels like.

Jimin inhales slowly and opens his eyes. He doesn’t look at Taehyung, afraid of what his expression may be. Instead, he sinks deeper into the bed, lying on his back, with his eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Do you have a mate? Back home?” Jimin whispers despite the unease churning in the pit of his stomach.

If monogamy is so important, Taehyung shouldn’t be with Jimin if he has a mate. But maybe Jimin doesn’t count—maybe humans are just throwaways, little things to play with before returning home. They haven’t discussed that either—whether Taehyung plans to go home. There are so many things they haven’t talked about.

Another tentacle wraps around Jimin's wrist and lightly tugs on it to stop him from chewing on a hangnail.

“Of course, I don’t,” Taehyung's tone is soft, but Jimin knows he's reprimanding him in his own gentle way.

“Just asking.”

“That was a silly thing to ask.”

Jimin glares at the ceiling, suddenly irritated. “I don’t know, Taehyung. There are a lot of things I feel like I need to ask you.”

The tentacle around Jimin’s wrist lets go and slides along his arm to eventually rest on his shoulder. It curls against his collarbone, warm and not too heavy, a comforting weight that grounds him.

“My lovely moon may ask me anything he wants.” Taehyung always knows how to speak gently to Jimin.

Sometimes, Jimin wonders if some kind of cosmic magic gives Taehyung's voice the power to calm him down. His brain tells him he’s just in love. With a sigh, he reaches for Taehyung’s hand under the covers. Taehyung's tentacles are definitely cool, but Jimin likes his hands the most. They feel nice engulfing Jimin’s.

“Let’s play twenty questions in the morning,” Jimin offers with a yawn. “I’m tired.”

“You didn’t even tell me about the party!”

Jimin closes his eyes and waves his free hand at Taehyung as though to shoo him away.

“Sleep.”

He thinks maybe, for once, Taehyung will listen to him. But then the tentacle at his collarbone lightly brushes against the side of Jimin’s neck.

Twitching his shoulder, Jimin brings it to his ear to block the tentacle from accessing his neck, but the sneaky thing slips over to the other side and tickles him there.

“Taehyung,” Jimin hisses, but the only response he gets is the sound of muffled giggles.

He tries to scrunch both shoulders. He’s like a little turtle retreating into his shell, neck shrinking into itself. Yet the tentacle slithers its way in.

Fed up with Taehyung’s too many limbs, Jimin grabs the tentacle, still tickling his neck, and pulls it off. When he does, he slides his fist from the tapered tip down to the thicker part of the tentacle, making it easier to get a good grip on it as it wiggles. It’s a quick movement, and he doesn’t think much of it until Taehyung lets out a low moan.

The sound makes Jimin’s entire body shiver as a spike of heat shoots through him. His eyes fly open, and he immediately turns his head to look at Taehyung. More heat stirs within him when he sees the expression on Taehyung’s face.

Taehyung lies on his back with his fingers gripping the strands of his hair at the back of his head, elbow bent and resting against his pillow. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his other tentacles are wrapped around his bicep and slipped beneath the covers — Jimin assumes to wrap around his waist or legs.

Biting his bottom lip, Jimin slowly drags his hand up the tentacle he’s still holding. He watches Taehyung inhale; the sound is soft and easy to miss.

When Jimin keeps his fist around the tentacle and slides it down again, Taehyung’s mouth falls open with another quiet moan that goes straight to the heat growing in Jimin’s shorts.

“Moon.” Taehyung opens his eyes and slowly turns to look at Jimin. “What are you doing?”

The tentacle pulses in Jimin’s hand. He lets go of it and watches in awe as it quickly shrinks back until it’s practically hiding against Taehyung’s body, though it doesn’t completely retract.

“I… don’t know.”

“They’re really sensitive,” Taehyung explains quietly. He holds out his hand and lets the tentacle Jimin had touched wrap around his wrist. “Especially this one.”

“Why that one?” Jimin doesn’t see anything different about this tentacle aside from it being slightly thicker than the others.

For only the second time since Jimin has known him, Taehyung's ears and cheeks flush pink with embarrassment. It makes Jimin perk up, shifting on the bed and turning onto his side to prop himself up on his forearm, eager to get a better look at Taehyung.

“Why that one, Tae?” Jimin’s eyes sparkle in the white light of the bedside lamp.

Taehyung closes his eyes when Jimin reaches out to touch the tentacle again. Rather than shrink back even further, the tentacle seeks out Jimin’s touch, wrapping around his wrist to press against the inside. Almost immediately, the tentacle begins to pulse, mimicking Jimin’s heartbeat, even as it quickens.

“That’s the one for mating,” Taehyung’s whisper is shaky.

“Oh!” Jimin quickly pulls back his arm, forcing the tentacle to let go. “Taehyung, I’m so sorry.”

Opening his eyes, Taehyung gives Jimin a small smile.

“You didn’t know; it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal, I promise.”

Jimin eyes Taehyung skeptically. He wants to say that Taehyung moaning kind of made it seem like a big deal, but he keeps quiet. It might be that Taehyung wants to brush off the situation to ease his embarrassment. Jimin decides to be merciful tonight despite his desire to tease Taehyung further.

Well, maybe.

“Does that mean you don’t have a…” Jimin makes it obvious that he’s looking down at what’s between Taehyung’s legs under the covers. “But, I have definitely felt something down there before…”

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung whines, rolling over so his back faces Jimin. By now, his tentacles have all disappeared.

“I’m just asking! If the one tentacle is for mating, I mean, in humans, it’s… well, you know!”

Taehyung lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I have a penis, Jimin, that looks pretty much like yours. Its purpose is solely for pleasure, not reproduction.”

“Ew, don’t call it that.”

“That’s what it’s called,” Taehyung looks over his shoulder to narrow his eyes at Jimin.

“It’s not sexy.”

“It’s anatomy, Jimin. It isn’t meant to be sexy.”

“Hmph.”

Taehyung laughs, and Jimin knows he has no other choice because Jimin has given him the poutiest expression he has ever contorted his face into.

“Go to bed, little moon. We can talk about penises in the morning.”

It’s strange how flat and smooth Taehyung’s back is when Jimin shoves it with his hands splayed out against his warm skin. It’s as if there were never any tentacles at all. Alien biology is too much for Jimin to wrap his head around, though it makes sense that he wouldn’t understand. Taehyung isn’t of this world; why should his body have to conform to its rules?

“Goodnight,” Jimin huffs.

He falls asleep to Taehyung still giggling, and that’s just fine by him.

♡ series masterlist ♡

My fanfiction works are created for entertainment purposes only and do not represent real individuals or events. My content is exclusively posted on Tumblr (gimmethatagustd) and AO3 (gimmethatagustd, daddytaehyungie). Copying, reposting, modifying, translating, or using my content for AI purposes is strictly prohibited. All rights are reserved.

#taehyung x jimin #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #the heart nebula

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nyekoo · 2 months

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What do you like about your darling, if you have one?

Thanks for the question!

And no! I don’t have one yet~

My perfect darling…? Well, I’m a switch, so I will tell what I want in both a yandere or darling.

I could write for hours and days about my fantasies, but let’s just say a bit for now.

My perfect partner would be someone as sweet as a melody in the prettiest evening. Someone who’s both my best friend and lover. The prettiest of them all, and the most perfect and fairytale like human being.

Who’s here to care about me, pamper me with love, show their devotion and kindness. They will have a beautiful soul, and love for life.

Not a single day I would spend feeling something bad near them, they will take care of me, make me happy and never let me be sad or feel lonely again. Someone who’s very affectionate, will be such a gentleman/gentlewoman to me. Never make me feel angry or upset, because they are perfect already.

They will be very romantic, in all aspects. Give me unconditional affection and love, with a gentle amount of possessiveness, protection and gentleness. A touch of cliché and always willing to do anything for me.

Of course will treat me like their goddess and with such care and softness I could melt any day.

My days would never be cloudy when around them, they have the magic to make everything around them perfect, or perhaps they make everything turn out perfect… Just for me.

My perfect partner will also know me so well, they even prevent my mood swings by being the best person in the world, and always helping when they sense I need it. Chocolates and delicious food always waiting for me, after a kiss of greetings back home. Flowers and sweet passionate nights filled with joy around each other as well.

Someone who will make me so happy and so loved, that could only be my perfect love forever and ever. They will never disappoint me, and if they do… they will ask for forgiveness, of course within my own conditions… Mhm!

A happy marriage with such a strong and wonderful bounding, many days spent with laughs since they have a great sense of humor and never fail to make me laugh… Oh how much I fall in love with them each day I am near their presence.

Nights spent with them playing with my hair while massaging and exploring my soft skin, kisses and cuddles all over the place, with kind words of affirmation and love devotion.

I would try my best to be the best person for them.

I want someone to melt every time they look at me, and I’ll gladly melt when looking at their pretty face and gorgeous body. It’s clear how our eyes show hearts whenever looking at each other’s.

Never disrespect me, and treat women like princesses and goddesses (as they should).

Will let me cling onto their arms when we are walking, and never be afraid to tell the world how much they love me. We will own each other.

Gift me with what they want to, spoil me so much I will squeak in awkwardness and blush so hard on their chest.

I’ll gladly spend my days making my own gifts for them, expressing how much I appreciate them and love them.

Ugh.. Passenger princess? Fuck yes! If they could, they would never let me touch the dirty ground we step on. Would carry me everywhere and give me gentle kisses in the forehead. While I kiss their necks in return.

Will be the most intelligent person I know, I love intelligent people ~ awh they are such dreamy for me. I love smart people talking smart talk to me. Let’s talk about how the world is all atom and carbon is everywhere.

Of course, they will have photos of me everywhere, photos of us.

And they will appreciate how much I can be a little crazy when other people start being too close to my liking towards them. That’s just my way of telling them to back the fuck away from my perfect love.

They know everything about me, and if they don’t, they are good listeners and awesome at giving advices too. Everytime I have a crisis they are always there to kiss my forehead and cuddle me until I feel safe again.

If they aren’t here to literally devote themselves to me then I don’t want it. They will have to understand how much of a big demand I have.

My gentle partner, who loves me so much that I could never love as much as they love me.

#yanderecore #yandere #lovesick #yandere community #yandere gf #yandere irl #yandere girl #clingy yandere #obsessive love #yandere blog

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clacing · 2 years

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if you don’t mind, can I hear your thoughts on the possibility of Homura having internalized homophobia? I’ve seen a post about it or two, (mostly with the scene where there’s a statue of Madoka (?) ) and I have no idea what the census is on it

First of all I am so sorry you sent me this ask more than a month ago but I had exams at the time and then was too burned out to write anything that made sense so this might be a bit incoherent 😭

I don't know what the consensus is either but I can tell you what I personally think: she doesn’t literally have internalized homophobia, but she's definitely coded that way.

What I mean by that is I don’t think the idea that “my feelings for Madoka are wrong because I’m a girl and she’s a girl” has ever crossed Homura’s mind, because I don’t think Homura considers the feelings themselves to be wrong at all. But that has less to do with Homura valuing herself or the nature of her feelings and everything to do with the object of those feelings being Madoka.

Homura holds on to her love for Madoka like a lifeline. She embraces it as the reason for her existence, even going on a downward spiral in the Wraith Arc when she realizes her feelings for Madoka are starting to fade along with her memories because it makes her feel purposeless. That love is essential to her survival, and her survival is essential to saving Madoka and preserving her world - so Homura can't hate it, repress it, or resent it, not even if she wanted to. What she can do is refuse to act on it.

Homura hates herself, but she doesn't hate herself because of her feelings for Madoka. She probably would hate herself more if she didn’t adore Madoka. I think it’s more of the opposite, that her feelings are only a problem because she hates herself and thinks she deserves nothing good. Even before meeting Madoka, Homura felt useless and like a burden on those around her, and I can't imagine that feeling has gotten any better after 100+ timelines of trying to save your best friend and only succeeding in making her fate worse.

So in later timelines especially, Homura starts keeping her distance from Madoka to be able to focus on protecting her. She stops touching her, stops trying to build a connection with her, stops interacting with her unless absolutely necessary (though she doesn’t exactly succeed), which is a far cry from how affectionate they used to be with each other.

Homura won’t allow herself to be happy, won’t think she deserves to be until Madoka is safe, but that goalpost gets farther and farther away ‘cause Madoka only gathers more and more karmic potential - so all that does is make sure she never gets to be happy, because her fight will never really be over.

And I might just be reaching here, but that kind of emotional repression, coupled with the feeling of never doing enough to deserve happiness, because no matter how hard you work or how much you sacrifice, you’re still just a flawed human standing against a system that’s designed to crush you - that just screams Catholic guilt to me. And while we don’t know if Homura is or ever was Catholic herself, we know she did go to Catholic school, which clearly still colors a lot of her language and worldview.

It’s not uncommon for Catholics to “accept” LGBT+ people, but only so long as they’re aware it’s a sin and seek penance for it and keep it to themselves - so plenty of LGBT people who grow up Catholic can acknowledge their feelings and even entertain them to a certain extent, but still struggle to outright act on them. And Homura’s feelings have the added burden of being astronomically strong (I’ll get back to that) which would put off anyone who didn’t know any better - so as they grow over time, she can show less and less of them, but having to repress them also gets harder.

Her literally and figuratively making Madoka her god is an extension of all of that. It’s just much, much easier to justify your feelings for someone if you convince yourself that they are perfect, unreachable and untouchable, because a) They stop being human. They’re a god, and you’re supposed to worship gods, right? b) You can’t do anything to a god. You can’t hurt them or ruin them or make them uncomfortable no matter how much you love them c) A god can’t love you back, so there’s no risk of your feelings being encouraged.

Which brings me to the scene with Madoka’s statue. This scene happens when Homura’s trying to figure out who could’ve trapped all of them in a labyrinth, therefore disrespecting Madoka’s last wish and sacrifice. She makes a big show of caring about Madoka first, about Madoka only - she can’t even spare one second to feel glad that she got to see Madoka again before jumping to Whoever did this is wrong and evil and must be stopped because this is what Madoka gave her life for.

And while all of this is going on, her familiars are mocking her because they know damn well the person who did this is Homura herself, which is proof that as much as she claims to worship Madoka, to only want what she wants, to be serious about respecting Madoka’s wishes, there is also a part of her that wants her there, that lured her into her labyrinth because she missed her.

We flash back to this scene again when Homura realizes she is the witch, except now Homura sees herself touching Madoka’s statue and staining it. That’s usually the scene people point to when talking about Homura having internalized homophobia, because it can be read as Homura feeling like wanting to be with Madoka again (and inadvertently acting on that desire as a witch) is tainting Madoka’s sacrifice, or as Homura feeling like her love is tainting Madoka herself.

And I think those interpretations are inextricably linked, because the queer coding in Homura’s whole arc is very much intentional. Even when it’s not outwardly about her being a lesbian, everything she goes through resonates so much with every part of the queer experience that it still winds back around to her being a lesbian. Homura has tried so hard to repress the part of herself that doesn’t just want Madoka, but wants her with her; she’s tried to put Madoka’s wishes before her own, and convinced herself that she’s fine with it - but well, witches don’t have that kind of restraints. So Homura is forced to recognize that she’s not happy just standing at the feet of Madoka’s statue and worshipping stone, and that makes the illusion shatter.

And once she stops being able to ignore that she doesn’t see Madoka as a god, not really; and that Madoka maybe didn’t want to be a god in the first place; that’s when she decides to take matters into her own hands.

Remember what I said about Homura’s feelings for Madoka being astronomically strong? What I mean is that they literally aren’t bound to the laws of the universe, because they exist outside of the cycle of hope and despair. Rebellion and Wraith Arc especially imply that her magic is self-sustaining because her magic and her love for Madoka are the same thing - meaning that as long as Homura keeps loving her, there is nothing she can’t do (they actually explain the mechanics of it in Wraith Arc, but it would make this meta even longer and more convoluted than it already is). She is an anomaly, on par with Madoka (maybe even because of Madoka, in much the same way Madoka only became as powerful as she is because of Homura) - so when she says that no one could possibly understand her, that this feeling is hers and hers alone, I believe her! But that’s also just the queer experience again - thinking you’re the only one who’s ever felt like this, that no one could possibly understand you, that somehow what you feel is different and more powerful and potentially more dangerous than all other kinds of love.

But it’s also the only thing that can save Madoka, and we know Homura would damn herself for her. She was willing to die in her labyrinth, away from the Law of Cycles, in despair for all of eternity, to keep Kyubey from getting to Madoka - why not take it one step further to give Madoka a chance at being truly happy? Her love made Madoka a god in the first place, so it stands to reason that if Homura puts her mind to it, it can tear her down and make her human again.

So Homura finally sets that love free. She reaches out and takes Madoka’s hands and declares her love for her to everyone who’s listening. She takes the disruptive potential her love has and takes advantage of it, because Madoka used her infinite power to make the magical girl system a little bit kinder to everyone but Homura looks at the system that's causing the girl she loves so much pain and says the system is wrong - and then demonizes herself for it. But she sets it free nonetheless.

It’s not too different from magical girls releasing their despair and turning into witches, although Homura is obviously affecting the world on a much larger scale. I’m saying this not to claim that Homura had no control over her actions and therefore did nothing wrong, but to point out that magical girls needing to make peace with the uglier parts of themselves is an important part of the show. That’s why Sayaka being able to summon her own witch at will was so powerful - because we’ve seen her struggle through the series and fall into despair, and we see her now having full control over her emotions and using the darkness she knows is inside her to her advantage, to be stronger, instead of suppressing it. And I definitely think Homura needed to release those feelings too instead of keeping them locked up and beating herself up over them, because there’s so much power in them - as much potential for good and positive change as they’ve got for destruction - and releasing them is the first step towards embracing them.

Obviously everyone will have different interpretations of this scene, but to me, this is the closest Homura has ever come to asking Madoka if she reciprocates her feelings. Or at the very least, if she can accept them. And Madoka (who has no context for this whatsoever) says No.

But for Homura to be able to ask Madoka if she’s allowed to be selfish, if she’s allowed to act on her desires at all, even if the only reason she’s asking is that at this point she’s got nothing left to lose - well, it’s huge.

I’m not going to say the way Homura went about things was right or even good for her, considering she is very clearly riddled with guilt and Rebellion is overflowing with suicidal imagery - but also there’s something to be said about how sometimes, accepting you’re the devil and going to hell anyway can give you the freedom to explore and potentially embrace parts of yourself you’ve always been too afraid to act on. So, mixed bag?

#madohomu #homura akemi #madoka magica #god i hope this makes sense. this is actually just four different metas in a trenchcoat #mothicalspoken

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redwayfarers · 3 months

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Casmel good morning kissie? 🥺👉👈

sorry for being this late but here's a. kissie. + cats <3

Fandom: Wayfarer Ship: Cassander/Melchior Characters: Cassander Inteus, Melchior Larkspur, Balthazar the cat Rating: Gen Words: 984 Spoilers: None divider credit

It’s Saturday morning. Sun is shining, birds are singing, and Melchior has a day off.

“Listen here, you little asshole,” a voice comes from the hallway. “We will not meow if he’s asleep, okay? We will be good little critters and just purr, okay?”

“Meeeeeow,” comes a raspy, inconsiderate response.

“No meow, only purr, Bal, you hear me?”

“MEEEEEOW.”

“You’re the worst son of all time, Balthazar.” Cassander laughs. He knows Melchior doesn’t sleep past 11am; their cat does not know what a clock even is, but he knows that his non-feline father won’t be angry at him for anything. “Now we go in, purrs only–”

Doors slide open as quietly as possible.

Balthazar’s purring fills the quietness of the room in a loud, chainsaw-adjacent noise. Melchior lifts his head up to watch as Cassander stares at the cat, eyebrows raised half in disappointment, half in what feels like what should I have expected. His hair is piled high in a messy bun, and little strands of dark hair stick out, red under direct sunlight. His nose scrunches as he squints, sloping downwards; parts of his face that are enduring the harsh heat of the sun are spotted with dark freckles. He’s dressed in what has to be the shortest pair of shorts they have around the house and an old, oversized t-shirt with faded flowers on it.

Better yet, he also has a sphynx cat he’s carrying around like a newborn. Said cat has buried his naked, wrinkly head into Cassander’s side, kneading the air with his gnarly little paws.

“He is not meowing,” Melchior says with a smile. “He did as you told him to.”

“Doesn’t mean he has to audibly chainsaw the bedframe with his purrs,” Cassander counters, affectionately kissing Balthazar’s head. “I didn’t wanna wake you up, but… Did we wake you?”

“No, no,” Melchior sits up and stretches his back. “I awoke on my own accord.”

“Are you also practicing your renaissance theater dialogue, my lord?” Cassander gives an exaggerated bow. “Perchance, for a court appearance?”

“I am older than you, but not that old, Cassander. But if you’d like me to, I can bend you over my knee like patriarchs of old as my property– or should I say, spouse?”

Cassander cackles. “Point taken. Shit for shat, tit for tat.” Balthazar meows in agreement. “Okay, now you can meow. Nobody’s sleeping anymore.”

“Maybe my son and heir would like to give me affections?” Melchior suggests, tapping his thighs. Cassander walks over, sits on the bed and places Balthazar on it; it takes him around three seconds to figure out his favorite human isn’t holding him anymore, so he meows so despondently that Melchior’s heart clenches for a moment.

“You’re mine now,” Melchior whispers menacingly and reaches out for Balthazar. Balthazar meows as soon as Melchior touches his body and drags him close to kiss his head, but relaxes as soon as Cassander holds his paw. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I have never seen a cat love a person so much.”

“Do you not love me as well?” Cassander says in a quiet voice. His smile is genuine and bright, tugging his lips upwards to reveal his gums. He has a few crooked teeth. He seems to have freshly shaved this morning.

“I do,” Melchior simply says. Because that is the truth. He loves Kathan, and he loves Cassander. He loves Lyrian, in his own way. With every one of them, it’s a little different. With Cassander, sometimes it’s good jokes and good sex and good company. Other times it’s holding his hands during an anxiety attack. And other times, it’s cuddling their naked, miserable-looking feline son on a Saturday morning.

Cassander hums in acknowledgement. That is growth from when they first got together. He still blinks an emotion away, still clenches and unclenches the fingers of his free hand, but he’s made progress. “Care to kiss me too?”

And he sounds so soft, so fragile - similarly to Balthazar, pets and owners may start to look alike - that Melchior leans in and captures his lips in a soft kiss. He tastes like cooked eggs and milk. He must’ve eaten right before Balthazar demanded his utmost attention.

The moment lengthens in increments Melchior doesn’t care to notice. He feels the tickle of Cassander’s hair on his face. Their noses touch. His eyes are impossibly big and impossibly dark this close, framed by long eyelashes and plucked eyebrows.

“I love you,” Cassander says. Melchior kisses him again in response.

“By the way, did you borrow Kathan’s shorts?” Melchior asks.

“Mine were all in the laundry,” Cassander shakes his head. “It’s not as if you don’t like me wearing her things from time to time. That one crop top comes to mind.”

“On her, it’s a proper shirt. You are simply tall.”

“I prefer overstretched, but yes. Tall. Towering. Looming. Large. Infusion stick of a guy. Shaped as if a kid made me in play-doh and I’m a stick figurine.”

“Whatever the case may be, entirely too sexy for your own good more than anything,” Melchior laughs. Cassander clears his throat.

Balthazar’s meow cuts the moment as it stands. Their feline son is feeling neglected.

Melchior kisses Balthazar’s head again and runs his hand over his side. The cat wiggles his way out of his grip and settles between them, giving them little sad looks all the while, and places his head on a crease in the blankets. “He is so very spoiled,” Melchior declares. “A spoiled little baby.”

“I think he’s kinda neat, personally,” Cassander shrugs and scratches the end of Balthazar’s back.

“Of course you do,” Melchior says serenely. “He takes after his mother.”

Balthazar makes a mrrrp noise. Cassander chokes on a laugh.

“You are an asshole,” he says. “I am filing for divorce.”

It is a Saturday morning, after all. All is well.

#wayfarer #wayfarer if #inspo birb has come to town #cassander inteus #melchior larkspur #cassmel #cassander x melchior #wayfarer writing #my writing #oc x canon

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glitchtricks94 · 1 year

Text

Ache

Gyokko x Reader

I feel like crying, so I made him cry too. This is an angst post, hurt/no comfort I am wanting to make him bleed right now and since I can't sort my other fic, this is how we're doing it. Yes, I know I'm just having a bad day but if I'm gonna be sad, I might as well put it to use! Anyways, kick back, relax and enjoy the pain~ -Glitchtricks

He didn't think the ache would be this strong.

He never thought that humans could hold so tightly to a feeling, he thought them to be as fleeting as the clouds in the sky on a warm summer's night. Never once did he expect to miss you so dearly. Gyokko sat at the foot of the lake he found all those nights ago, strange, honeyed eyes staring at the water’s glasslike surface, sorrow washing over him as he looked on. Where he would normally be thinking of ways to cloud the liquid in a myriad of colors, his mind only focused on the being that had enchanted him so many moons ago, how he had found them on their knees simply gathering water for their own needs. The Upper Moon remembers how wide you smiled at him, kindness blinding you. He remembered how excited you were to simply meet a demon like him, explaining how his kind fascinated you. You were unusual, but not quite unappealing. He liked that. Your warmth stuck to his mind so annoyingly well, like an ink stain that cannot be removed. Gyokko didn’t think he’d long for it after you were gone. He recalls how for ages, each night, you’d be here, waiting, even calling out for a demon to approach you. Strange, but he supposed your tactics worked as less then a moment later, the Upper Moon Five found himself before you again, a delighted squeal leaving your lips. Gyokko was at a loss when you threw your arms around him, cheering about him coming back to you. He swiftly moved out of your arms, glaring at you. “Don’t touch me like that!” He spat. If only he knew how much he’d miss that familiarity.

Gyokko shook his head when he realized that tears were dripping down his chin, spattering on the vase that held his usual form. No, no he can’t think of you, he can’t lose himself like this, not over a human. He was a being of divinity, of talent and breathtaking skill, a being that…felt empty. So very empty since he saw you last. He clenched his fists, trying to shove away the pain, the agony in favor of rage, resentment. No, he can’t mourn you, you and him were far too different! So why did the bittersweet memory of you guiding him to your home come to mind? That affectionate smile of your beaming at him the entire way as you nattered on about your own life, your own form of art that took shape in the words you scribbled down in empty books and scraps of paper was all he could see, all he could hear. He couldn’t forget that, especially not the joy that you exuded from just showing him the meager poems you wrote. He didn’t know when he had shown up at your abandoned home, looking up at the sad structure from his pot. He knew you weren’t inside, so why did he cruelly hope you’d come out, greet him like you always did? He’d always found himself drawn to your presence after you began discussing a hopeful romantic novel of star crossed lovers, your inspirations being the Shakespearian tragedy of Romeo and Juilet. You had many inspiring ideas, ones Gyokko would take back to his own sanctuary to create his own art from. The way your eyes lit up when he first presented a vase to you, painted with the silhouettes of the lovers from your story was etched into his demonic heart. You were practically screaming with utter delight at the gift, being the most enthusiastic person to ever accept such a thing from him. Not even the ever so carefree Douma had ever come close to emulating such joy, however, yours could never be emulated, you were far too genuine for such a thing. Your scent still clung to each corner of your home, despite months having passed. Gyokko felt a pain in his chest as he wandered through your home, the memories of your sweetness tormenting his brain wherever he looked, the lights that used to illuminate the halls and rooms now like that of a fleeting dream. Changing to his true form, Gyokko found it easier for himself to get lost in everything that was encasing his senses. Looking to the ground, he saw one of the many bits of scrap paper you used to write your poems of love and infatuation upon, still stained with splotches of ink. He couldn’t resist, he was always weak for you. Plucking it from the floor, he began to read. “Stepping through the mist, like midnight’s spell

He afforded no opportunities to fleeHer mind was encapsulated by him, her heart his to control

Fate so harsh on the pair, he was ripped away

The tides of time carried the maiden far As night always intertwined with day.” Tears settled on the paper in his webbed hands, sorrow crashing into him at full force. Was this how you viewed him and yourself? He wished he could ask such a thing, he wished he could just hear that sweet, fluttery voice of yours just one more time, to hear you prattle on about why you chose the words you did, how you planned your tales. He just wanted you back. Gyokko carefully traced the kanji of your handwriting, your name falling from his lips in a whisper, soft and desperate. Part of him wished you’d appear before him, lovingly wrapping your arms around his large frame with a joyous titter. Wishful thinking. Slithering deeper into your home, your scent grew stronger as he reached your bedroom, which remained empty, and well kept, thanks to the care he found himself putting into the place. It was almost like a monument to you now, a tribute of sorts, perhaps even a way to say sorry despite you having vanished out of his life forever. Another wave of agonizing sadness filled the demon’s chest as he moved to your large, western style bed, a stack of old journals laying at its side. Gyokko got onto the bed, coiling around himself as the smell of you flooded his senses, new tears cascading down his face as the more painful memories began replaying in his mind like they always did on nights like this. The cruel words he spewed at you, the tears that flooded down your soft cheeks, the look of utter betrayal in your eyes as he brought down the hammer of his misguided wrath upon you, tearing away at everything you loved, everything you cherished. He remembers ripping up your pride and joy that was your novel, screaming at you about how you were nothing but a sniveling worm, how he couldn’t understand why he wasted his time with someone like you, and overall just ripping your heart to ribbons. Your pain screams still rang in his ears as you cried out, yelling at him to leave, leave and never come back, how cruel he was to you after you simply wanted to connect, how you thought you had connected with him, forging a friendship of sorts. All of it filled Gyokko with so much sorrow and regret. He never meant any of what he said, he truly would even go as far to say he didn’t wish to break your spirit like that, not when you managed to become so much to him, not even batting an eye whenever he’d appear after feeding, fresh blood staining both sets of teeth. No, you always welcomed him with open arms, telling him your stories, speaking to him enthusiastically and listening to him so intently. And he just drove you away after everything. He couldn’t stop himself from beginning to sob as everything replayed in his mind, bowing his head in shame and regret. “My sweet muse, I’m sorry…” He wept, shoulders shaking, chest aching in his remorse. “I never meant to say such things to you, you were never a worm, you were a goddess, something as divine as I…And yet, I ripped you apart…My heart, please let me apologize, please come back, please. Every moment without you is pure agony.” He pleaded, voice now breaking as he sobbed harder, knowing that you would never hear his pleas, knowing that you had vanished from his world. Gyokko was left alone, aching for you, longing for your sweet touches and honeyed praises. All he saw when he closed his eyes was your smile, and it burned him like fire. All he heard in the silence were the memories of your voice, which stung like a slice of a sword. Everything about you that was left behind tormented him mercilessly. Deep down, he knew he had earned this, he had earned such a drastic loss. Everything was dreary for him, nothing truly sparked his enthrall anymore, nothing that didn’t feel like you would have liked. The ache in his chest would never leave, for you had carved a hole in his heart, leaving a chasm that can never be filled.

#glitchwrites.notepad #gyokko x reader #demon slayer gyokko #kny x reader #kny angst #gyokko angst #angst fanfic #angst fic #I'm sad and wanted to cry so I made this #gyokko x reader angst

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autisticempathydaemon · 10 months

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For the matchups /np <3

What song are you fixated on at the moment? What lyric or verse, and why?

At the moment it’s Vienna by Billy Joel, ‘she’s always a woman’ is one of my favourites ever and Vienna just hits right as I feel like I’m behind a lot of the friends that I grew up with atm. (My fave parts are ‘you’re so ahead of yourself that you’ve forgot what you need’ and ‘ you can’t be everything you wanna be before your time’.

What is your Enneagram type?

I don’t know my enneagram sorry but I know my personality type is ENFP if that’s any help :)

Tell me about your childhood imaginary friend.

Funnily enough he was a dog, like I used to just imagine I had a dog and he’d follow me around, sometimes he’d talk and sometimes he wouldn’t and he was named after ‘Balto’ from the animated movie.

What is your go to way to fall asleep?

I don’t really have one, I usually end up waking up not remembering falling asleep in the first place. I basically just wait until I’m tired enough for it just happen.

If you had to change your name, what would it be, and why? (In tandem, if you have changed your name, why did you pick that one?)

Although I wouldn’t like to change my first name, as I think it suits me, I did change my last name to my Grandma’s maiden name after she’d told me she was sad that she couldn’t keep it when she married my grandad.

What Redacted boy holds no appeal to you, and why? Like, not the one you hate but the one who you don’t get the hype for. (I won’t judge, I promise.)

I feel awful about this one, but Guy. I don’t dislike him or anything but I’m also not necessarily excited when he gets an upload. I’m also not sure why, he just doesn’t hit the same for me as he seems to do for a lot of other people.

Tell me about that one book/movie/tv show you know all the words to.

Fantastic Mr Fox. I love it, I love the framing and the colours and the characters. They’re all very ‘human’ in different ways and the moment between Foxy and Felicity near the waterfall is so relatable I want to eat it.

Which Redacted boy are you platonically attracted to? Like- forget dating, which dude do you want to be your best friend?

SO MANY. Like the entire D.A.M.N squad. I love all the characters and I don’t mind anger but if Damien directed it at me I’d get defensive and that wouldn’t make for a good couple. Gavin, I wouldn’t really like my partner flirting with other people, Huxley I enjoy hiking but simply can’t picture myself dating him because he’s with Damien etc etc

Do you have a go-to thing you ramble about when you’re tired, and if so, what is it? (For example, my boyfriend knows I’m ready to sleep when I start talking about space.)

The signal for me being tired is actually that I go very quiet/ not talkative. But if I was to ramble about something it would probably just be about things that had happened irl, old funny story’s and stuff (or whatever fandoms I’m in at the time depending on who I’m with).

Tell me your go-to gas station and drink combo.

Red Bull. Always Red Bull. 🧎🏻

Extra’s: My favourite colour is green. I love movies, reading/writing and animals. I’m a Libra. My love languages are acts of service and physical touch but again, depending on the person.

Thank you!

As always, I love it when I am given so much information to work with! You seem so lovely and agreeable, it’s hard to think with whom you wouldn’t work well. Somehow, the “loving animals” bit convinced me, because what’s better for an animal lover than our beloved beta boy who can turn into a wolf on a whim?

Asher strikes me as the type of guy who works best with someone like himself. He works well with everyone, by his nature, but you and he would have so many similarities that being together would be wonderfully easy. It’s the big things like your extroverted natures and your compatible love languages. Yet it’s also the little things like your shared love of hiking and caffeinated battery acid (I say affectionately as a Strawberry Apricot Red Bull fiend).

You’d be the sort of couple who operate like well-oiled cogs of a machine, like one of you was a telepath, that’s how naturally you communicate and maneuver around each other. It’s a wonderfully comfortable, joyful life that the two of you have. There’s lots of alternating days of him showing you Halo and you showing him new, interesting movies, countless lectures from David about y’all having to drink something not poisoned with taurine, and so, so much love.

Song:

I confess, I messed up/ Dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around/ And I know you're dressed up/ Hey kid you'll never live this down/ You're just the girl all the boys want to dance with/ And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances

I’ve just got to give the boy a FOB song, you must understand; I also think it’s a really fun choice for y’all. I love the movie references, the fun, boppy tempo, the dramatic, theatrical way Asher would fall to his knees on the kitchen floor as he belts it out at you in true, emo kid fashion. It’s infectious, and you would be helpless to either sing or headbang along.

Runner-ups:

This was hard. Again, I feel like you could pair well with just so many people; narrowing it down to two was an ordeal. In the end, I like Anton for you because you two contrast in a lot of the ways you and Asher compare. Also, I chose Sam as a runner-up for you because you two hiking together would be really cute. Also, You/Sam is giving kind of David/Asher but in another font, and I love Dasher /lh

note: thank you so much for waiting 💕

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted #busybee matches

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

Note

Before Valentine’s Day is over:

A letter to my beloved author-nim…

Dearest Ryen,    I've been reading your work since 3Tan was a one-shot. I discovered it on AO3 on a day I was feeling very sad and very alone. I read it. I reread it. Then I read it one more time for good measure because, it was so full of everything wonderful a good writer can do, on each pass I caught something I had missed (partly also because, on my first read, I was absolutelying DYING in 3Tan Yoongi's presence and had not a single wit about me, lol). When all was said and done, I didn't feel so alone.  Your writing is always class A, but I want to give special focus to 3Tan here because it literally heals me: Yoongi has showed us so many sides of himself over the years, and your fashioning of those facets into 3Tan Yoons has to be one of my most favorite characters. I love that you can see the little glimmers of traits in who he really is and develop them out into a full-fledged written personality that feels so human and so incredibly full. Same goes for reader. Sometimes its hard to identify with the reader persona. Not here. Not only is she her own unique person (no Mary Sue to be found around these parts!), but she is incredibly relatable. She's hilarious, and sweet, and fiesty, and smart, and such a character in her own right - not just something to imprint on, and I've fallen in love with her as much as I have with her Yoongi. I also love that you decided to leave her brother untethered to any specific known figure, and that we get to imagine him as we will. Your confidence in your audience is clear in these instances, and it makes your writing so much more fulfilling and compelling.  Lastly, to top it all off, you are not only an incredible writer, but also a lovely person. You bring nothing but joy and laughter to the Tumblrsphere, and I love coming to your page where I feel I can come as I am to appreciate fandom and writing and just being a lil' human bean in this crazy world. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all you give of yourself to all of us.   Love you, Ryen!     Most affectionately,   VioletSiren90 <3 <3 <3

Oh my gosh… violetsiren, I’m about to not have my phone on me for a bit but I wanted to tell you that I read this and now have a huge, huge smile on my face.

I’ll come back and add my thoughts to this when I’m free again, but I did want you to know that you are an angel and someone that I truly appreciate being here. You just made me super happy and felt so seen and loved.

I just.. Wow.

Thank you.

Edited with my thoughts under the cut🥺❤️‍🩹

I’m glad you don’t feel alone. That’s my number one thing that I’m happy about here, because no one should ever feel like that. 3tan is here to tell people that they aren’t alone—in feeling, or experiencing, or thinking. Or even living. It’s there as a love letter and as a reminder that we’re all just people living and getting through life.

As for this Yoongi, I’m so honored you enjoy him. He’s my comfort character and I wanted him to give joy and safety to as many people as possible. But also: he isn’t perfect. He is certainly flawed and going through his own shit and is terribly bombarded by his own inner struggles. But he’s providing reader comfort despite that, and it’s just touching.

Reader is a beautiful soul in their own right!! She’s always gonna be the one that I love writing no matter if it’s a good, bad, or neutral situation. I’m so happy reader resonates with you, too. That’s wonderful feedback because I want this to be as relatable as possible!! And leaving bro up to interpretation allows you all to imagine whatever you want and keep it inclusive. The fancasts are fun and hilarious but he really can be anyone.

This will always be a safe space. Use it whenever you need❤️‍🩹 I’m just here to have fun, share what I create with y’all, and have a good ass time with whatever the hell we decide to cook up🤣 And of course!! Come as you are, there is no judgment here. Anyone can stop by and hang, I’m just here getting the popcorn and fireplace and drinks and whatever else ready😌

Thank you for such a wonderful letter. You even remembered that love letters to the characters or author was even part of a Valentine’s Day poll!! Ugh, I love that. Thank you for this and I’m so happy you’re here.

#oh my gosh #I need to come back asap and say my piece!!#violetsiren90 #*ryenfictalk #asks:3tan #lovely people #calm tag #valenryens #mailbox💌

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thedeviousdevilxx · 2 years

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I’ve never dated. I’ve fooled around, had sex, but like full romantic love or even crushing on someone not even in high, not once. Zilch. It just was not a priority. I’ve flirted and made out with strangers (to be fair I was usually high AF or drunk), but fallen deeply madly in love? Never. I honestly do not know if I’m even capable of having such feelings for another person. I’ve had close but ultimately short lived friendships. I’m just kinda incapable of intimately connecting platonic or otherwise with the vast majority of people. I also just do not like most people. I’m not an affectionate person, I really don’t even liked to be touched honestly!

And usually this doesn’t bother me so much, but sometimes I just don’t feel all that human sometimes. Like I enjoy romance, sex etc in fiction, and enjoy writing it even too but as something I’ve personally felt or experienced? Nope! and I’m kinda fine never experiencing it or ever having a romantic partner. I barely can keep friends as it is.

So sometimes Valentine’s makes me wistful from seeing cute couples and thinking, “wow it sure looks nice to have a special someone, someone who understands and accepts you”. Not really that I want that exactly, but, I am human, and we are social creatures but again, sometimes I just do not feel very human.

#mainly I don't feel human because I just do not want marriage kids/a romantic partner #and there is social shame in being forever single woman with cats ya know?#and yes I know what aromanticism is I do consider myself aromantic bisexual because ppl are attractive and I like looking and imagining lol

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rainbowintheclouds · 10 months

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

Alr I’ll be ranting about one little thing that happened yesterday with my friends, this is tickle related so if you don’t wanna see it you may ignore<3

Now, I am a very touch starved human because of my anti-social self but thanks to the universe I had friends that made friends with me. Also thank the universe that one of my friends that I personally consider my best friend, we’ll call her K, is physical affectionate just like me. There has been like one more tword event that happened with me and her so you tell me if you wanna hear that too-

anyways I was in my last class for the day and because the teacher had nothing planned, it was a free period. Like any other mf, we just talked and had fun because that’ll the only class all my friend group shares together. I’m much more quiet than my other friends so I usually just let them talk while I listen, usually standing/sitting right next to K. While they were talking, she was holding my hand and playing around with it because it’s something she does and cause of my warm body heat. After a bit, I just pull her in a hug, knowing she was okay with physical touch right now. (We have this system where I tap her hand and ask, “can I?” Which means, “is it okay to touch you right now?” And she’ll answer with a nod, yes, no, etc) She hugs be back, petting my head while still talking to the other as if nothing was happening.

And this is where the tword plays in- For any person in the tword community you most likely will know that one trope where the ler is tiggling the lee but acts casual like they aren’t just wrecking them. Yeah, that is exactly what happened-

Not even a minute later, she starts rubbing and grazing her nails on my back. Keep in mind my back is twordish- and she knows this because of the first tword event. I at first thought it was just a back massage and gladly accepted it. However, soon after she started specifically going for my spine, tracing up and down, and adding more pressure. I don’t have the biggest reactions when I get twordish but omfg it tickled- I would jolt away everytime she got to a bad spot but I couldn’t go any big distance because we were in a hug. Even with me squirming around slightly, she continued and still continued talking to our other friends as if nothing. She would go up to my shoulder blades, the back of the ribs, my sides, all while I tried to keep any noises from escaping which was easy for me because I don’t giggle much. I snort. So once the tiggles just started building up more and more, I couldn’t help it and let out small snorts here and there. I was so focused on the tword, I forgot my other friends could see all my movements. One friend, T, cut the conversation they were having together to mention wtf was happening for me. “Is Rainbow doing okay? Are they getting hurt?-“ T said, my other friend, Y, agreeing with her cause apparently they had been watching me having a spasm in K’s arms.

K giggled, still while continuing the tickles and said, “Yeah, I’m just tickling them.” T and Y “oh” from relief and chuckled at the misinterpretation. “Okay cause their face is red and everything.” T mentioned. I could see both just looking over at me. The worse part was K moving down the only covered I was using to hide my face which was her arm, exposing my pink face to them. I still tried to cover my face by following my face with her arm but it barely did anything, the wall had came down.

Then they all just went back to their conversation, leaving me to keep snorting at the hands of K. In no way did I mind it, tbh I was loving it and wasn’t exactly trying to get away, the whole time hugging my arms around K. And of course, what’s a tword situation without teases-

When the other were talking and K was listening to them, she would take the time so look down at me and said things like,

“Am I killing you? I think I’m killing you”

“You’re not even moving, do you want to be killed? You do, don’t youuu”

“You’re so ticklish, it’s so cute”

“It’s the tickle monsterrr! Tickle, tickleeee”

…

THIS IS A SWITCH/LEE’S DREAM OKAY-

Never thought I’d actually find a friend that would do this shit- let alone a friend who isn’t even part of the tword community, that I know of. Not to mention, all of this lasted for 15-20 minutes. I don’t know the exact time cause the whole time my face was in her chest or arm but I heard her say at one point that we had 15 minutes left or something. The only reason she had stopped was because it was time to go.

Now I would love to tell her that I actually do like the tickles, which I feel like she might already know- but saying it aloud to her feels like she might think I am weird soooo we’ll see. I am still happy and was happy when it was over cause tickles mixed with back massage is life’s beauty.

Thank you for listening to my Ted talk✨

#a rainbow can speak #tickle community #sfw tword community #tword community #sfw tickle community #sfw tword #sfw tickle #tickle content #tickle #tword

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kg-clark-inthedark · 2 years

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Chapter 8 of Beyond the Spheres by kg_clark on Ao3

What is it that makes someone who they are? Is it their actions? Perhaps their thoughts actually have the final say. Or maybe knowledge makes the person. You’d think with all the time I spent observing humanity from the Void I would have figured out an answer to this by now. But was it a question I ever bothered to pose up until this point?

There’s no counting the number of births and deaths I’ve witnessed. Millions of lifetimes have flashed into and back out of existence, ever brief in my eyes. In comparison to all futures forever unraveling out in front of me like frayed threads, the life of a single human always seemed comically insignificant. The only times I saw actual value in individuals, my marked, was when I foresaw that their actions would have vast ripples upon the world. They were actors in the play that the whole of history was putting on just for me, an audience of one.

These days I couldn’t feel more differently. I’m one of them now, a person, and every little moment of my life feels significant . When I look at Corvo now in our cabin, quietly packing his things for this afternoon’s arrival in Dunwall, I know for certain that he’s significant. I can feel that straight down to my bones. And that brings me back to a variation of the original question, what makes Corvo who he is?

Corvo is a man easily recognizable by his loyalty, reliability, and resilience. Anybody who’s heard the legends of his battles for the Empire or seen him in the same room as Emily, watching protectively, understands these things about him. However, there are many hidden sides to Corvo Attano that I’ve been privileged to witness. His caring spirit coexists with a cruel counterpart, dancing lovingly, keeping it in check. There is, as I’ve noted before, a deep desire for revenge lurking within him, ready to come out whenever he or a loved one is wronged. However, he’s also patient and subtle. As I’ve paid closer attention I’ve noticed he often second guesses himself more than he lets on. He’s sensitive, so very sensitive.

It’s that understanding of his sensitivity that sets my teeth on edge, even this morning, as I recount my behavior over the last week while I silently pack my belongings. I can’t push him away like that again. Ever. His petrified expression when I was materialized back into the apartment from the Void, when he came out onto the ship deck frantically searching for me the other night…that’s a fear of his that I need to acknowledge, to prevent myself from triggering as much as possible. Of course, after the perilous lifetime of loss that he’s experienced, he’s ever wary of its threat. First there was his father’s accident, then his sister’s disappearance, his mother’s sickness, Jessamine’s assassination, and then Emily was taken twice. Even I was lost to him in a way, until recently.

As someone who’s never loved before, the full weight of all his loss is difficult to comprehend, but I’m trying to understand him better every day. I’ll accept his protectiveness, his care, his kindness, even if I don’t deserve it. Because in truth, it’s not really about me. These are aspects of himself he’s giving to me. Who am I to decide whether I’m worthy to receive them?

When we emerge together from below deck, Dunwall is looming in the distance. Its gray, high walls and cliffs shoot dramatically up from the waters. Emily is pulling Wyman excitedly over to the bow, pointing happily at the shore. Unlike Corvo, who had to acclimate to the bustling city and its dull weather, Emily has never known anything else. Dunwall is her sole home, through and through.

Corvo and I also find ourselves soon leaning against the gunwale as well, although on the port side instead. His arm wraps comfortably around my waist and I soften into his touch. I missed this.

“Are you looking forward to being back in Dunwall?” I ask. Corvo’s fingers curl into the side of my abdomen affectionately.

“In some ways. I’m mostly looking forward to having you here with me.”

“I’m happy to be joining you,” I reply, gaining a shining, almost relieved-looking smile from him. I revisit my thoughts down in the cabin - thoughts of who he is, so different from me and missing centuries of knowledge that I have, yet so skilled at understanding me at times.

“I want to thank you,” I say somewhat out of the blue. Corvo raises an eyebrow, silently asking me to reveal what it is I’m referring to. “For knowing what to say to me last night. You always know what to say somehow.”

“Well I can’t take full credit this time. Emily helped,” Corvo admits.

I look over to her at the front point of the ship, leaning so far over the edge to look at the incoming shore that Wyman feels the need to pull her back. They both laugh as she sticks her tongue out and feints a jab at his stomach to make him flinch.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I told her a little bit about what was going on. She’s who I talk to about things and I was in a bad place,” Corvo explains. I can’t help the twinge of guilt that arises at his last sentence, but I swallow it down as he continues. “I only told her partial truths, that you’re being threatened by members of a cult and that I’ll be protecting you. She got my head out of my ass and started me thinking more about how guilty you must have been feeling about everything because of my involvement.”

“How would she have guessed I was feeling that way?” I ask.

“Well she used to feel similarly because of everything I’ve done to protect her.” Corvo pauses, as if just the thought of her feeling that way harms him. “She thought she had done something wrong, as if she herself was the cause of my hardships. She doesn’t feel that way anymore though,” Corvo explains. Sounds familiar. I glance over at Emily one more time. Her and I have more in common than I originally thought.

Corvo then adds with some hesitation, “Once again, I hope you don’t mind that I told her a bit about you.”

“Of course not. She’s your daughter,” I assure him. “Whatever you speak with her about is up to you. I figure soon enough you’ll want to fully tell her who I am…or was. That’s fine with me as well.”

“Eventually, yes, but not until she gets to know you more. She did tell me yesterday that she likes you though,” Corvo says, a bashful expression forcing its way onto his face. “So that’s a start.”

“Uh oh, you’re really stuck with me now if Emily already approves,” I jest, flashing him a teasing smile. The one he gives back to me doesn’t match though, and is instead warm and affectionate and so unbearably sweet that my teeth almost ache just looking at it.

“That’s my hope.”

Right. Of course Corvo wants to be with me for a long time. I had already assumed that. Never once have I seen him pursue a short term relationship. He wouldn’t have made the commitment to protect me from such a powerful threat just in hopes for a fling. And I’m moving in with him today, for Void’s sake.

Yes, I knew all of that, so why does hearing him say it out loud have me smiling like an absolute buffoon? I spend the next few minutes imagining a future, frustratingly unverifiable through my now-limited eyes, in which the two of us remain together - A future where everything goes right, where his arm stays right here wrapped around me, holding me close to him where I belong.

For a moment there I almost forget the Void exists at all.

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#beyond the spheres fic #dishonored fanfic #dishonored fan fiction #corvosider #human outsider

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beyondtheplenty · 1 year

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//02 Madness and the Tango

Distraction and curiosity are the two ultimate sins, outward signs of that impatience which has always prevented man from rediscovering the gate of Paradise. (0)

The simpleton man, the sheep, no longer satisfied by the everlasting noise, reaches unknown land behind the edge of the world. What new emotions does it make it possible to feel? (1) The story of the past swims between two shores, comes to a halt between two temporalities, leaves behind two philosophies. (2) Is there some secret understanding between them? (3)

One of the most beautiful things that our era is teaching us is to approach with light and simplicity the very complex things previously believed to be the result of chance, of noise, of chaos, in the ancient sense of the word. (4)

Thus my story will have a flavor of the present. (5)

Madness measures the distance that exists between foresight and providence, between calculation and finality. (6) Over the horizon, the great Land of Ceres stands on its site. A Palace of Faces constructed of Shadows of what once was, and of what once was could be. Here, free, is the dance. (7)

There, stands a statue of gold. Seen from outside, the statue looked like the funeral stone of a beautiful young man. (8) I know it, I see it, I feel it, I am illuminated by it, burning. The wine dark sea and divine life. The adjective, placed to one side, at a distance from the names and notions of philosophy is enough for me as a parable. Yes, the divine is there; I touch it; these things are improbable miracles; I never stopped loving the world and seeing that it is beautiful. (9) A profound truth about nature, about life and humanity shines forth here. (10) The most interesting person in the world, all the greater for intervening everywhere. (11) Desire.

Madness here was not about truth or the world, but rather about man and the truth about himself that he can perceive. (12) Between them, it outlines a meticulous meshing. (13) A thing more than merely black and white, noise and silence.It takes shape, volume, and Form. An elementary stitch or thread of real human relations—never straight but made of multiple arabesques, twists, curls, or helixes in the bedroom or the living room, or in the squares—this quincun cial chain resembles a staff where the notes would occupy pretty much the same place, enabling one to hear a familiar form in a regular rhythm, gallop, tango, bebop, minuet; the monotonous murmuring emanates from the line. (14) Everything begins with the dance. (15)

Madness of pain, excess of suffering, dance (16) They dance in a circle, waving spears and toys. (17) They dance and sing in choirs. (18) Let us return to the stagemaker, the magic bird or bird of the opera (19), the sheep and the man. These two hardly needed to speak to each other. (20) These two states require two thoughts; these thoughts demand in their turn to be thought together. (21) Two states are to be defined. (22) His deeds are those of an adventurer who responds to a sense of challenge, to whimsy, to curiosity, and to pleasure. (22.5) We evoke these two shadows, we do not call to them. (23) The big sealed jars were opened, the new wine flowed. (24) A bird with the same constellation as a brain. (25)A bird supports its fleecy wingspan in the felted air. (26)

A sting pricked them to their very souls, and thus were events unleashed. (27)

It is a world that is self-sufficient, highly tensioned, even convulsive, wrapped up in itself, with no curiosity about any other manner of existence. (28) The first is scattered, and the second one turns. (29) Two souls converge, entwining in an embrace that defies distance. The beautiful soul is not content with the state of nature; it affectionately dreams of human relationships. (30) The integrating force is born here; we don’t know very well how. Synthesis is born there, the synthesis of the multiple. (29) Every step, every pivot, and every swivel of one's feet becomes an orchestration in response to the leader's unspoken cues. Another must indeed desire to be assured in one’s own desire, floating. (31) What is this unity, mobile and floating? (29) Sensitivity is heightened, attuned to the subtleties of their bodily expressions. The impressive thing here is the fidelity to the physical model. The impressive thing. The beautiful soul is not content with the state of nature; it affectionately dreams of human relationships. (32) I would be that our physics models hardening, cooled liquids, crystallization, cell formations, spiral formations might be inferred as well by what we know of social processes. (29)

And the same for time: beatitude runs from generation to generation, so that the devout inhabits the unfurled omnitude of space and history. Accompanied by joy, experience opens this space—which goes from there to elsewhere and can go from Earth to God—for the construction or dilation of the soul, by opening up or piercing a passage, a threshold, a door, a port through which to reach one of these exposed places. (33) The interplay of pauses and progressions, moments of tension, akin to suspended breaths in the fabric of time, followed by the release—a rhythmic exhalation—akin to a sigh of respite. Experience traverses these places and is exposed. Between nothing and everything, it launches a space and a time, like a free and floating branch. (33) The music, with its haunting melodies and rhythmic cadences, stirs the depths of the soul. The multiple is primitive. It is everywhere differentiated, floating, fluctuating, chaotic. (34) I prefer to call these two states, unitary and multiple. (35) Ecstasy expresses an end to this voyage, the establishment, temporarily stable, or, rather, a distancing from the equilibrium around this exposed point, in its neighboring regions, a differential of time. Programmed, the bestial instinct closes in on itself, positioned. (33)

But in a sense of the word which, with time, has been lost: the aesthetic of a mesh of powers concentrated in a figure, a body, a voice. (36)

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